Page 2 of By Any Other Name

“Steady on.” His teeth flashed in a smile, and she saw that his merry eyes were a bright blue. “Are you all right?”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” Her mind was a blank and her cheeks burned. She pasted on a bright smile. No, that was probably too girlish a thing to do. Rylla pulled away and rushed out the door.

The night air cooled her cheeks, and her stomach quieted. She shoved the hat onto her head and strode away. To her dismay she wobbled. Oddly, her brain seemed foggier now—though at least her stomach was no longer rolling. She had planned to visit another club, but she thought perhaps she should go home.

She started up the steep slope, her feet slipping on the damp cobblestones. The fog had grown thicker. Suddenly a figure stepped out of a doorway in front of her. He held something in his hand and he reached out, grabbing her wrist.

“Give me your money. Now!”

Chapter Two

Gregory Rose frowned slightly as he watched the young man hurry toward the door. He had noticed the fellow earlier, when he had heard that odd throaty laugh that affected him like a fingernail running up his spine. Gregory had almost expected to see a woman. Instead, there was only a table of men, one of them a lad of medium height wearing a too-large greatcoat. His dark blond hair was slicked back, and he had the sort of large-eyed, pretty features that guaranteed he had been the victim of upper-form bullies.

It was easy to see that the youngster was a lamb in the company of wolves. Gregory had kept an eye on the boy, suspecting that the young man’s companion was a sharp. There was something else about the lad that bothered him, though he could not determine what. Gregory had smothered a smile at the expression on the boy’s face when he downed his first drink. A cigar later had turned him a mite green, but at least his stack of coins hadn’t dropped.

When he left the table, the young man had staggered and Gregory had had to catch him to keep him from falling. He had realized then that the boy was not only inebriated but even slighter than he’d thought.

Back at the table, the boy’s former companion gave a sharp upward nod with his chin. Gregory turned and saw a rough-looking fellow lever away from the wall and walk out the door. Frowning, Gregory grabbed up his coat and followed.

Outside, he spotted the slender young gentleman heading up the hill. The other man followed quickly. Both men disappeared into the fog. Gregory hurried after them. He heard a shout ahead of him and broke into a run.

“Hey!” Two figures struggled in the fog. The larger man glanced back at Gregory’s shout. He shoved the smaller one to the cobblestones and took off running. Gregory reached the boy. “Are you all right?”

The lad nodded, gasping for air, his hand to his stomach.

“Can you stand?” Gregory took his arm, pulling him up. When he released him, the young man swayed. Gregory grabbed his arm again. “Here, don’t pass out on me now.”

“No, no, I won’t. I’m all right.” His voice was breathless and high with fright, but it had the same throaty rasp Gregory had heard in his laugh earlier. The sound skittered across Gregory’s nerve endings in a decidedly unsettling way.

Gregory started up the street, his hand under the young man’s arm, trying not to think about the effect the stranger’s voice had on him.

“He hit me!” The young man sounded more indignant than frightened now, but his steps were unsteady. He sagged against Gregory’s supporting hand.

“My rooms are just ahead.” Gregory tightened his grip. “You can rest there a bit.”

“What? No! No, I cannot.” Despite his words, he leaned more heavily against Gregory. Gregory was beginning to wonder if the lad would be able to make it to his building.

“It’s fine.” Gregory was not sure what he was reassuring the boy about. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” His tone was vague.

“Yes. I am Gregory Rose.” When his companion made no reply, Gregory said encouragingly, “And your name is . . .”

“Oh! Rolly. My name is Rolly.” He perked up at this feat of memory, but soon he was sagging again.

Gregory plowed up the hill, taking more and more of the other man’s weight, though the difference in their heights made it difficult. They were almost to his door when Rolly stopped.

“I—I feel odd.”

Gregory eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not about to be sick, are you?”

“I’m—I’m—” Rolly’s eyes rolled back, and he went limp.

“Bloody hell!” Gregory wrapped his arm around Rolly tightly, holding him up. What the hell was he supposed to do with him now? Half carrying, half dragging the boy the last few feet, Gregory opened the door to his building and pulled him inside.

It would be easier to drape Rolly over one shoulder and haul him up the stairs that way. However, Gregory was afraid Rolly really would empty the contents of his stomach if he did that. With a sigh, Gregory picked him up in his arms as though he were a child and began to climb the stairs. Thank goodness the chap was small.

He propped Rolly up with one arm as he unlocked the door, then propelled him inside and over to the sofa. Rolly’s head lolled back, his arms falling to his sides.