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He swerved, watching as she stepped out of a warehouse doorway and beckoned to him, her cheeks flushed, her entire body sagging with relief as he strode to her side. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Stacie." His own relief was absolute, and he gathered her against him, savoring the sheer joy of holding her, knowing she was safe. "Are you all right?"
"I am now."
"How long have you been waiting here alone?"
"Only a quarter hour or so. Breanna rushed the note off to you to avoid my having to linger here for an extended length of time."
Damen's sigh ruffled her hair. "Thank God for your cousin's cautious nature. I left my office the minute Graff brought me her message." His gaze fell to Anastasia's bags, which were hidden behind the open warehouse door. "Why are you packed? Where are you going?"
"With you." Reluctantly, she eased out of his embrace, gave an uneasy glance around. "Is your carriage nearby? I'd prefer if we talked there."
His jaw set, but he didn't press her. "It's just beyond these buildings, off to a side. I came alone, just as Breanna asked. Let's go." Without another word, he picked up her bags and led the way, weaving through the crowd until he reached his waiting phaeton. He tossed the bags inside, helped Anastasia into her seat, and climbed into his own. Then, he turned, gripped Anastasia's shoulders. "Now—tell me what's happened."
Anastasia drew a slow, shuddering breath. "I don't know where to begin. Yes I do. Damen, I'm in danger. I need somewhere to hide, somewhere Uncle George can't find me."
Thunderclouds erupted on Damen's face. "What has that bastard done to you?"
"Nothing—yet. Please, I'll explain everything. But first I need to know if you'll…"
"There's nothing to discuss on that score. You'll stay with me."
Another surge of relief shot through her. "Thank you."
Damen tipped up her chin, his silver-gray gaze scrutinizing her. "Why did we meet here? Are you being followed?"
Reflexively, Anastasia looked around. "No. Uncle George is probably first finding out I've gone. I asked Wells to wait as long as he could before giving him my note. We're meeting here to substantiate the story I made up."
"Which is?"
"In my note, I told Uncle George I was leaving England immediately. I said I was on my way to Philadelphia, that you'd foreseen some problems with the completion of our bank and that you'd advised me to sail home and oversee things." She clutched Damen's arms. "If he should come to see you at the House of Lockewood, if he should ask you any questions…"
"I'll confirm your story. You're on your way to the States." Damen's knuckles caressed her cheek, his insides growing colder by the minute. Medford must have done something brutal to incite this type of fear in a woman like Anastasia—a woman who'd never cowered in her life. "What did your uncle do? How did he frighten you like this?"
Anastasia wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, clearly still battling major shock.
"Stacie—did he hurt you?" Damen demanded, fear knotting his gut.
"No. Not yet. But he will. Rouge will. Rouge and whoever the man is who's paying him."
"Paying him? Paying him for what?"
"For me." Anastasia's shaken gaze met Damen's. "Uncle George intends to sell me. To an affluent bidder. In Paris. Through this Rouge. Just like the other women he's sold … that Bates has gotten him … like that illegal cargo that went down … we thought it was opium, or jewels—but it was women. And now I'm scheduled to be next…" Her voice broke, and her entire body began to shake. "My God, Damen. My own uncle…"
Damen swore under his breath, his fingers unconsciously biting into Anastasia's shoulders.
Women. The merchandise Medford had been selling, shipping to Paris, was women.
Bile rose in his throat.
Abruptly, urgency supplanted worry, and a self-imposed calm settled over Damen—a calm born of necessity.
"Stacie, listen to me." His palms framed her face. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let it. Your uncle won't get close enough to touch you, much less ship you to Paris. I want to hear every bloody detail of what you and Breanna heard, to understand exactly what your uncle's been doing and with whom. But later. Right now, all I want is to get you to my Town house where you'll be safe. I don't want to give George one extra second to realize you're gone. All right?"
She gave a definitive nod.
"Good. Let's go."
