Brazen and the Beast (The Bareknuckle Bastards #2)(28)

She gasped as he walked away, bobbing and weaving through those lingering in the square. “I played just as fair as you did!” She followed behind. “You promised me information.”

“I don’ ’ave information.” He sped up, slipping down an alleyway off the main square, leading deeper into the Garden.

He turned a corner, and Hattie hurried to follow. “Wait! Please!” This man had grown up on the streets of Covent Garden. He knew about Beast. She caught sight of him at the far end of another alley, making another turn.

He spun back around when she came around the corner. “Leave off!” Then resumed his retreat. Down a second alleyway. Turned into a third.

Frustration grew. She was going to lose him. “Just tell me where to find him!” she called after him. Another turn. Another.

He was gone. Lost to the labyrinthine streets.

“Dammit,” she whispered to the dusk, her heart pounding, the only sound on the empty street her breath harsh in her lungs. He’d been her chance. “Dammit.”

“I know where to find ’im, lady.”

“Aye, me, as well.”

She whirled to meet the words.

Two other men, approaching from behind. Larger than the one she’d pursued. One wore a cap low over his brow, hiding all but the tip of his nose. The other had a shock of orange hair, bright enough to see in the fast-dimming light. He smiled, baring rotten teeth. But it wasn’t his teeth that made Hattie shiver. It was his eyes. Full of greed.

She took a step back. “I don’t require your help, thank you.”

“Och, wot a lady,” Cap said. “So polite.”

“And the accent—like she was born in piles o’ money,” Teeth replied. “Enough money that she can pay us back for wot she lost us this afternoon.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t—I’ve never set eyes on you before.”

Cap sucked his teeth at that. “Nah, but ye broke our man. ’E could’ve worked another hour if you ain’t come ’long.”

The card man. He hadn’t been working alone. He’d been working for these men. These men who wanted their money here and now in this empty alleyway where she’d been stupid enough to land herself. She cast about for a solution. “I’ll give you what I offered him. A crown.”

“A crown, she says,” Rotten Teeth spat.

“She lost us wot, three times that?” came the ridiculous reply. Impossible. It would take the gamesters days to earn that amount.

It didn’t matter. “I don’t have that.” She reached into her pocket. Extracted her remaining coin. “I’ve six shillings, tuppence.”

They were nearly upon her.

“Aw . . . She don’t ’ave it, Eddie,” Cap tutted.

“Wot are we to do, then, lady?” Eddie asked. “Maybe you could work it off? Mikey don’t mind big girls.”

She lifted her chin. Pulled her shawl tight, one hand disappearing into the folds. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Or wot?”

“Maybe she’ll scream,” Mikey said, yellow teeth flashing as though he’d like that, the monster.

“She can,” Eddie said softly, close enough to touch her if he tried. “But she won’t find no savior ’ere.”

Her heart pounded, fear and fury warring within. Fury won out. “Then I shall have to save myself.”





Chapter Nine


He didn’t like her in the Garden.

Beast headed for the market, keenly aware of the setting sun—of the way the place could turn from friendly to dangerous in an instant, especially for the daughter of an earl, too full of Mayfair no matter how much time she’d spent in the Docklands. She’d as well be from the other end of the world as here, where darkness came like a promise, and brought with it all manner of malice.

What if she’d left before he got there?

He increased his pace, hurrying to get to her before the last rays of light settled, weaving in and out of buildings and down alleyways, making the final turn and nearly crashing into a tiny body speeding the opposite way. He reached for the child who threatened to ricochet off his legs and land herself in the muck, taking in her empty basket and threadbare cap.

“Bess,” he said once she was stable again, the drawl of the streets thick on his tongue. “What’s got you racin’?”

Her eyes went wide. “Beast!” she said. “I ain’t told her nuffin’! I thought she’d make a good mark for me last blooms.”

Hattie.

He looked to the empty basket. “Looks like she was that.”

The girl nodded, her cap going further askew. “Aye. Bought the lot. And for thruppence.”

He was unsurprised by Hattie’s generous spending, but made a show of looking impressed. “And now, moppet? Where’s the lady?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t tell her ’ow to find you. I’d never.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Her chest bowed out with pride. “Left ’er in the square, I did. Told her no one beats you.”

He imagined Hattie hadn’t cared for that. He reached into his pocket and extracted his bag of sweets, offering it to Bess. When she popped one into her mouth, he chuffed the girl beneath her chin and said, “Good work today, Bess. It’s getting close to dark. Best find your mum.” The duo would have another early day tomorrow—up at dawn to collect their blossoms and then back to the square to sell them.