She could barely see the lad's dark head as he wove deftly through thethrong of people tending to their marketing.

Bedevil her skirts for hampering her! The material kept wrapping around herlegs, slowing her up. Had it not been for her small size, she would have lostthe boy by now.

She ran on. He was only five feet ahead of her! Four feet! Two feet! Shelunged for him.

And crashed right into a fruit stand.

*Chapter Eight*

Three ... four... five ...

"Oh, for the love of God!" Nicholas muttered when the doorbell wentunanswered. Bloody Emery must be asleep again. Bellowing down the hallwaywould do no good. Unless his butler had his horn to his ear, it would be likeshouting for help in the eye of a storm.

Nicholas tossed his cravat to the side. He had just arrived home from anight at the theatre with Jessica, still surprised by the maidenly kiss she'dgiven him. A first, and definitely a step forward.

Yet ... there was something missing. Nothing had sparked to life inside himat the press of her lips against his, not a glimmer of a possibility or atickle of one. He'd felt nothing.

But certainly that would change over time. When Jessica came to him ontheir wedding night, her innocence would incite his senses and test theboundaries of his control.

He'd want to possess her, wholly, passionately, to ease between her thighsand know he was the only one, to stare into those violet eyes and see the loveshining clearly.

Violet eyes?

The realization of what he'd thought, of whom he had pictured beneath him,brought Nicholas up short. He shook off the image, concluding fatigue had himin its grip. The Irish lass was a distant, albeit pleasant, memory.

Really? So why have you been going to the docks every day?

To see Damien, of course.

Oh ? Then why haven't you seen him yet? If you haven't figured it out bynow, he is not the type to consort with the patrons of Puddlebys. Certainlythat's been the reason you've gone into that particular establishment at leasta half dozen times now, isn't it?

I think I lost something in there, smart ass.

You did. Your mind.

The bell chimed again, rasping against Nicholas's already frayed nerves.

"I'm coming, God damn it!"

Passing the open door of his cousin's bedroom, he paused. Jules lay curledon her side, sleeping. She napped quite a bit, the babe making it harder forher to keep the active lifestyle she enjoyed.

As much as he might silently grouse, Nicholas felt a sense of contentmenthaving her around. For a short while, he could be her protector again.

Or she could be his.

Smiling, Nicholas continued on, taking every other stair on his way down tothe foyer. He quirked a brow as he passed a snoring Emery asleep in hisfavorite chair. "Having a nice nap, are we?"

Emery gave a half snort, half wheeze and smacked his lips as if dreamingfondly about the pheasant they'd eaten for dinner.

With more force than he intended, Nicholas swung open the front door andstared at the woman framed on the threshold eyeing him as if he were a freshcut of meat from a prime corn-fed bovine.

"Yes?" he drawled in a less than friendly manner. "May I help you?"

"My, but ar-ren't ye the comely one."

The accent, although far harsher, rang familiar, considering he had beenhearing it in his head for over a fortnight, making him a perfect candidatefor Bedlam.

"Excuse me?"

"I said ye ar-re a bonny lad. Ye fair take me breath away." She shrugged."Or it could be all those hideous steps I had to climb. 'Tis not a young womanI am, if ye hadn't noticed."

He'd noticed.

Nicholas glanced outside. He counted four hideous steps. Quite a climb.

The woman held a scrap of paper in front of her face and squinted. "Is this..." She rattled off the address written down.

"You have the right place, but--"

"Thank the merciful heavens!" She swiveled her stout hips over the doorsilland into his house uninvited, something swishing in the pocket of her skirt asshe breezed past him.

"Now look here," Nicholas began, but she paid him no mind. Instead she eyedthe floor, the walls, the furniture--the valuables --before deigning to casthim a look over her shoulder.

"I'll be speakin' to the master of this house, if ye don't mind, thank ye.Now if ye'll scoot off to get him. An' while ye're at it, me brawny boy, yecan get me a wee drop of somethin' to warm the cockles of me heart. Tis coldout tonight, and I've walked a long way."

His hand poised on the knob, Nicholas leaned against the edge of the door."And may I tell the master who is calling for him at such a late hour?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Bein' sassy, are we? Well, 'tis to beexpected. Can't get good help these days. Although" --her gaze once againraked his form--"good or not, I'd keep ye. Ye are as rugged a piece o' work asever I saw." She sidled up next to him, her massive bosom coming within twoinches of his chest.

Visions of being smothered assailed him. Nicholas shivered.

"Troth, but I think ye could warm the cockles of me heart much better thana drink, and 'tis a fact I'd be likin' it more." She smiled, showing him alovely gap where a tooth should be while the rest of her teeth looked as ifthey'd been jammed into her gums.

The woman was something else. Blunt and brassy ... just like another femaleNicholas knew, one who'd left a permanent imprint of her hand on his face.

And her image in his mind.

Reluctantly, Nicholas smiled. "Thank you for asking, but I don't think itwould warm the cockles of my heart."

She heaved a hearty sigh, her bosom expanding to dangerous proportions. "'Tis a sad lot for a woman of me lusty nature to be left alone." She extractedsomething from her skirt and Nicholas discovered what had been swishing. Aflask.

Seeing it reminded him of a woman with a similar flask. Reminded him of herhair, her eyes, those lips. Reminded him of the feel of her pressed againsthim.

Reminded him he'd awakened in an empty bed.

Damn.

The woman thrust the flask in his face. "For the likes of ye, I would shareme special medicine."

Her medicine smelled one hundred and fifty proof, and a single whiff nearlyknocked Nicholas out--just like another liquor had done to him.

Double damn.

He put a hand in front of his face to ward the woman off. "How gracious ofyou to offer, but I'll have to decline. I have my own medicine, and somethingtells me yours and mine won't mix. Now or ever."

"Suit yerself." She slapped the metal container to her lips and took a swigthat would lay a horse out on its back. Screwing the cap back on, she returnedher medicine into the black gulch whence it came. "Well?"

"Well?"

She rolled her eyes. "Bonny ye are, but not much rummagin' around betweenthe ears now, is there?"

Nicholas was too amused to take offense.

"There's no time to be prattlin'. I need to see the master of thehouse--and I need a chair. Pull that fancy one over for me weary bones to restupon." She pointed to a chair only five feet from her.

Nicholas wasn't sure why he didn't put an end to the lunacy instead ofpulling the chair over.

She plunked down and flapped eyelashes that looked like bat wings at him.His stomach heaved and dipped.

"May I relay a message to the master?" he asked in his most subservienttone. This should be interesting.

"Aye. Tell him the puir girl is sittin' in the gaol. 'Tis not a place for afemale to be--not when the men have that look in their beady eyes, if ye kenmy meanin'."

A creeping suspicion settled in the pit of Nicholas's stomach. "What girl?And what look?"

The woman sighed heartily, as if what she spoke of should be patentlyobvious. "Sheridan Delaney's the name, and the look is the kind a man getswhen his mouth is sayin "good-bye' but his trousers is sayin 'hello.' "

Nicholas blinked. "Are you trying to tell me Sheridan Delaney ... is injail?"

" Tis a long time ye have in the uptake, me boy. Now, ye must wake yermaster and save the lass from the likes of them spalpeens."

Nicholas pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose tostave off the headache he knew was coming. It was going to be a long night.

The bloody girl was behind bars. Not an auspicious way to begin her visit.Nicholas was starting to understand his cousin's looks and giggles inreference to the elusive Sheridan Delaney.

He glanced up the stairs, thinking about Jules, knowing she'd want to hearabout the fix her friend found herself in. He didn't have the heart to wake her, nor did he want her worrying. He could run to the jail and secure thegirl's release before his cousin was the wiser.

Nicholas sighed, resigned to his fate. "Where is she?"

"Southward."

Good Lord, what was the chit doing in Southwark? The place was overrun withcriminals. Even the law was on the take. A person could get shivved in theback, drop dead in the middle of the street, and people would step over thebody.

Nicholas moved to the chair Emery slept in and shook him awake. It took afew moments for his butler to focus and blink up at Nicholas with eyesmagnified fifteen times through the thick rims of his spectacles.

"Yes, sir?" he croaked, and then cleared an abundance of phlegm from histhroat.

"I have to go to Southwark, Emery."

"You're going to the park, sir?" A puzzled frown pulled his woolly grayeyebrows together. "Isn't it too late?"

"I'm going to Southwark, not the park."

"You won't be back before dark?"

"Southwark, man!" Nicholas scanned the area for Emery's horn. As usual, theblasted contraption was nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath, he leanedclose to Emery's ear and enunciated every word. "I will return shortly. Pleasetake ..." He glanced at the woman he assumed was Sheridan Delaney's maid. Thegirl must have poor eyesight to have picked this one. "What's your name?"

"Aggie. But ye can call me sweet lips if ye like." She winked.

Not if his life depended on it. "Emery, please show Aggie to the servants'quarters."

"Here now!" she huffed. "I ain't no servant. 'Tis a guest I am."

Nicholas was not in the mood to argue. "Beg pardon." Then he said to Emery,"Take Miss Aggie to the guest quarters. And do not say anything to Lady Thornton should she awaken. I don't want her knowing her friend is in trouble."

"On the double? Yes, sir!"

"No, I didn't... Oh, the hell with it."

Nicholas arrived at the building meant to pass as the lockup for theBorough of Southwark, with its dank walls, dank air, and dank people. He couldimagine the fear rattling through Jules's friend, Sally ... or was it Sydney?Whatever. It really didn't matter. It wasn't as if he'd be using it. A generic"miss" would suffice.

He chuckled as he thought of the prim and proper graduate of the BainbridgeAcademy, accustomed to tea parties and shopping for fripperies, caged like acommon thug.

He pictured her adorned in some frou-frou outfit on a hard cot fearing themoment someone would speak to her, a giggling blond with fluff for brains. Howelse could she have gotten into such a predicament?

Nicholas stalked to a wide desk sitting atop a tall base, requiring theperson standing in front of it--him--to cock his head back to glare at theperson sitting behind it--currently, a myopic moron with a bulbous nose.

Clearly, the lofty pedestal was another tactic meant to intimidate thegeneral public and extend the long arm of the law.

The man behind the desk didn't even glance up, which annoyed Nicholas.Therefore, the first order of business was to irk the man in return.

Mimicking his butler, Nicholas cleared his throat loud enough to wake thedead, rattling mucus the way Damien had taught him long ago when they hadcontests to see who could spit the furthest.

That did the trick.

"May I help you?" the man inquired in a tone that clearly communicated, MayI hit you?

"I'm here to retrieve a Miss Sheridan Delaney from your graciousestablishment."

"Take a seat," he mumbled, returning his attention to something on hisdesk. "I'll be with you when I'm finished."