Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(65)

Gasping with effort, Julia stepped back and regarded the pair. One was heavyset and middle-aged, and the other tall, scrawny, and much younger. The portly one removed his hat and regarded her with an obvious leer. The tip of his red tongue edged over small, puffy lips. When he spoke, the scents of tobacco and liquor wafted heavily from his mouth.

He introduced himself as if he expected her to be impressed by his title. “Lord Langate, my dear, and this is my companion, Lord Strathearn.” He removed his hat, revealing a sparse patch of pomaded and cologned hair. “Let me say you are even more delectable at close range than at a distance.”

“Thank you,” Julia said warily. She positioned her small hat on her head and pinned it to the neatly coiled hair at her crown. “If you'll excuse me, gentlemen—”

They crowded closer to her, backing her against the door. Langate's pebblelike eyes gleamed greedily as he glanced over her slender figure. “Being familiar with the city and all its delights, Strathearn and I decided to offer our services to you for the evening.”

“That's not necessary,” Julia said in a clipped voice.

“We'll take you for an excellent meal, madam, and then a tour in my carriage. You'll find it quite enjoyable, I assure you.”

“I have other plans for tonight.”

“No doubt you do.” Langate licked his thick lips and smiled, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. “But surely you could be persuaded to change them for a pair of gentlemen who admire you so greatly.”

“I'm afraid not.” Julia tried to push past them, only to be crowded against the door once more.

Langate's hand came to her shoulder, then spread over her chest. “Perhaps you need a little inducement.”

To her shock, she felt him fumble at her bodice, his short, pudgy fingers depositing a small wad of bills into her cle**age. Shuddering in revulsion, she jerked back and fished the money out of her dress. Her face turned scarlet as she opened her mouth to call for help.

Before she could make a sound, however, a dark whirlwind descended on them. Julia blinked and froze while swift movement took place around her. The two men who had crushed her against the door were suddenly gone, plucked away as if by some gigantic Olympian hand. The wad of money dropped from Julia's fingers and scattered over the floor. Dazedly she stared at her rescuer. It was Damon, his face a cold mask, his eyes lit with murderous fury. He had pinned the hapless lords against the wall like a pair of yapping terriers. It didn't seem that he heard their babbling apologies and explanations. They both fell silent as he spoke to them, words hissing between his teeth.

“If you approach her again, I'll rip you to pieces…and I won't stop until you're scattered from one side of Bath to the other.”

Langate's blubbery face turned purple. “We weren't aware she was spoken for,” he managed to say.

Damon released Strathearn and focused all his attention on Langate. His fingers tightened on the man's throat. “Touch her, speak to her, even look at her…and I'll kill you.”

“No need…” the man gasped, choking for air. “Please…I'll go…”

Abruptly Damon let go, and Langate collapsed against the door. Strathearn went to him immediately, looking cowed and pale as he lent a supporting arm to his companion. Together the pair made their way through the door, back into the eager throng that waited outside.

Damon turned to Julia, his eyes still glittering with rage.

“How…?” she asked breathlessly.

“I came through the back entrance of the theater. There's a crowd waiting for you there as well.”

“And for the other actors,” she said with a flicker of returning spirit.

“Mostly for you.” He gave her a hard smile. “You seem to be considered public property, Mrs. Wentworth.”

“I'm no one's property.”

“I can produce a certificate of marriage that states otherwise.”

“Your certificate is worth this,” she retorted with a snap of her fingers. “Our marriage is of questionable legality, as you're well aware. Any court would set it aside with no hesitation, considering the fact that neither of us was of an appropriate age.”

After a long moment Julia's gaze fell, and she wondered why they were suddenly so angry with each other. She softened her voice considerably. “Thank you for getting rid of those buffoons.”

Damon didn't reply, his features still tense.

“I'll have to wait here until the crowd begins to disperse,” Julia commented.

“That won't be necessary,” he said grimly. “I'll escort you to my carriage.”

She shook her head and drew back. “No, thank you. I don't think it would be wise to spend another evening with you.”

“Not even to share supper? As far as I know, you haven't eaten today.”

“I don't object to sharing a meal with you, it's just…afterward…”

As Damon saw how flustered she had become, he turned strangely gentle. He reached up to her hat and adjusted it a half-inch, his fingers smoothing back a few soft wisps of blond hair. “I didn't come to Bath merely to chase you around the bedroom—though the idea does have merit.”

“Then why are you here?”