“I’m glad of it,” he praised, wishing he could pull her into his arms and offer her comfort. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice soft.
He had to be gentle and open, to make it possible for her to tell him the truth. So many young ladies would lie, for they did not wish to be judged, to be shamed.
“He did try,” she admitted before she gave a wry, satisfied smile. “But luckily the heel of my shoe met the top of his foot (gentlemen didn’t wear boots to balls) and he did not like it.”
His lips twitched, relieved, for she seemed very pleased with herself. But even that could not stifle the inner fury in him longing to break every bone in the lord’s body. “I’m glad to hear that you have a fierce stamp. It’ll serve you well in this life, but it seems that you have many nefarious gentlemen about you.”
“Yes,” she replied. “You warned me, but it would’ve been helpful if I had known their names.”
“I did not know their names,” he sighed. “They were wearing masks when I heard them, and I was called away to take care of a very serious incident. At the time I could not pursue who they were and they left the house before I had the information that I would’ve liked.”
“I’m sorry for it,” she said. “For now, we do not know who the other three are. We certainly know who one of them is.”
“I want to know who it was,” he said softly.
“Why?” she queried, surprised.
“Because he hurt you,” he growled. “I want you to tell me who hurt you so I can make sure that he doesn’t ever hurt you or anyone else again.”
She lifted her chin. “The sentiment is most appreciated Mr. Courtney, but it is not necessary.”
“Oh, I think it is,” he replied, his voice lower than he intended. “I think someone like that should meet a quick walk out to the river and find that the bottom of it is full of things that have no hesitation in eating scum.”
Her eyes widened. “You do have a way with words.”
He gave her an elaborate bow. “Thank you, my lady.”
“You must call me Elizabeth,” she breathed.
“Elizabeth,” he replied, letting his hand fall to his side. “I can call you that if you wish, but I am still at a loss as to why you are here if you don’t wish me to beat the bastard down in an alleyway. After all one would assume that you would think that was what I was for.”
“Is it?” she queried. “The beating of people in alleys. Is that what you do?”
“Not anymore,” he admitted.
She stared at him, not with horror, but curiosity. “But once upon a time?”
“Oh yes.” He took a single step across the distance between them as he admitted, “Once upon a time I was the most excellent beater of men in alleys. It is the only way that I could have survived.”
The hardness slipped from her face, and her gaze searched over his visage. “You survived a great deal, did you not?”
“Oh, indeed, my lady,” he said with no wish for sympathy. “One does not climb their way up from St. Giles to own a place like this without doing things that would make even the most nefarious man in the Fleet shudder with horror.”
“But you are so good,” she protested.
He tensed. “Am I?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“Perhaps that is my weakness then.”
She took a step toward him and insisted, “I think it is what makes you great.”
“You think I amgreat?” he echoed.
“It is why I am here,” she explained without apology. “You warned me when you did not have to, taking a risk to do so. That is not the act of a small person. That is the act of a great person. And yet… somehow you knew not to go to my father but come directly to me.”
He nodded, ready to explain. “It is not often wise to go to other men to protect ladies because sometimes they don’t actually care about their women’s well-being.”