A Gentleman Never Tells(93)

Brent looked into her concerned eyes, and a calm feeling settled over him. “I don’t know the answer to that. I’m hoping to find out today.”

Brutus lifted his head and looked straight in front of him as if he heard something. A few seconds later, Brent heard the rumbling of wheels and rattle of milk cans.

“I hear the cart,” he said, peering around a tree. “Make sure Brutus remains quiet.”

“He will not make a sound,” Gabrielle assured him as she patted the dog’s head and rose on her knees to watch.

When Brent considered the lad and the two girls a safe distance ahead of them, he, Gabrielle, and Brutus rose and followed them. Godfrey was obviously well versed on where he was going and the shortest route to get across the city. Within a few minutes, he left the shopping district of London and was maneuvering his way across the back streets and through narrow alleys. Brent stopped trying to remember the route they were taking, deciding it would be best to hire a cab to take them back to Mayfair as soon as their mission was complete. It was easy to stay out of sight and keep up with Godfrey because of the rattle of milk cans and the squeaking of the cart’s wheels.

Occasionally the lad would stop and talk to someone, or he and the girls would wave to a passing rig or wagon, but they kept a steady pace of winding farther and farther into an area of town where Brent would have rather Gabrielle not be. But there was no going back now.

Brent often looked over at her. She and Brutus had no trouble keeping pace with him. And by the expressions on the faces of some of the people they passed, no one was going to come near them with Brutus walking between them.

Brent estimated they had been following Godfrey for a couple of hours when they came to a neighborhood of rundown tenant houses. The skies had turned dark and thunderous, but not a drop of rain had fallen. He knew better than to leave his house without an umbrella, but his mind had been too busy with other thoughts when he’d walked out the door. He hoped the rain would hold off until after he talked to Godfrey.

A few minutes later, Godfrey stopped in front of what looked to be a small barn. Brent heard him tell the girls to go on home and that he would put the cart away and wash the milk cans. The girls skipped a couple of houses down the street and disappeared.

Brent turned to Gabrielle and said, “You and Brutus stay here. I want to talk to Godfrey alone.”

“Talk to him?” she asked, taking her hand out of her muff and laying it on his chest.

He liked the warmth of her touch. “That’s why I followed him, Gabrie.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? I thought you just wanted to find out where he lived.”

Brent could see she was concerned. “I need to ask him a few questions. I want to talk to him about where he found the dogs. You and Brutus stay here, and don’t worry.”

Godfrey was coming back to the cart to get more cans when Brent was close enough to say to him, “Godfrey, I’d like a word with you.”

The lad looked up and saw Brent only a few feet away. He grabbed a can off the cart and threw it at Brent. Brent ducked and then sidestepped the tumbling can. The lad took off running.

“Stop!” Brent yelled and managed to get close enough to grab the back of Godfrey’s coat, stopping him. When the young man swung around, he surprised Brent with a fast, hard fist to the side of his mouth, snapping his head back. Brent’s hat flew off his head and he staggered. A moment later he heard Gabrielle yell, “Brutus, no!”

Brent struggled to regain his footing as Godfrey quickly bent low and rammed his shoulder into Brent’s stomach and pushed him backward. Brent stumbled over a milk can and fell to the ground. He grunted and looked up in time to see Brutus’s big front paws land on Godfrey’s chest and pummel him to the ground.

“Get him off me!” Godfrey screamed, trying to squirm away from the large dog, who growled, slobbered, and held him pinned to the ground with two saucer-sized paws. “Help me!”

“Stop fighting him, and he won’t hurt you,” Brent said, rolling to his feet. “Off! Brutus, get off!” The dog looked at Brent but didn’t move. “Off, Brutus,” he said and grabbed him by the neck scruff.

Panting, Brutus growled his complaint but hobbled off Godfrey.

Gabrielle ran up to them and dropped to her knees and hugged Brutus around his big shoulders and neck. When she looked up at him, Brent was surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes.

“He hasn’t been able to run for months,” she said with a tremulous smile. “I couldn’t stop him. He wanted to help you.”