Page 87 of The Best Marquess

“I’m here,” said a voice behind him, and Finn turned in acute relief to see Nicholas Gordon marching down the front steps of the townhouse. The tall, brawny Black man had been a champion fighter in his day, and still looked like he could conquer all opponents in the ring. “Octavia said you might require my assistance. Bad news, I take it?”

“The worst, sir,” said Pippa, biting her lip. “A peer has gone to Golden Square to close Bliss. Forcefully and permanently. People we care about very much might be hurt.”

Nicholas cursed. “Let’s go. Not a moment to spare.”

The four of them climbed into Finn’s carriage, and they were soon on their way. While it wasn’t a long journey, the sheer number of people in London and the associated carts, horses, hackneys, carriages, mail and stage coaches, phaetons and curricles, meant even a short distance could take forever.

“I feel so wretched about this,” said Lady Campbell miserably from where she sat next to Nicholas and across from him and Pippa in the rocking, swaying carriage. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t tweaked my husband’s nose…”

“No,” said Pippa firmly. “You are not responsible for his acts. Besides, he wouldn’t even know where to go if it wasn’t for my damned grandmother.”

“Are you the owner, then, Pinehurst?”

Finn nodded brusquely. “I am. And if Campbell or the others have harmed anyone there, or caused any damage, I’m afraid there will be harsh consequences. No, I will not wait for a constable or magistrate.”

“Good to know,” said Nicholas, flexing his fists.

Lady Campbell sat forward. “While I would ask you to refrain from shooting or stabbing my husband just to avoid a worse scandal, I am certainly not opposed to a bloodied nose, blackened eye, or both. It’s long past time he received some comeuppance for his moralistic claptrap. He is no better than anyone else, no matter what he thinks, and reading romance novels or using pleasure toys is not a sin.”

“Well said,” replied Pippa archly. “Although a good many of the ton would be improved by a pair of shiners. My grandmother included.”

Finn didn’t say another word; he was too busy willing the carriage to go faster. If anything happened to Abby or Nessie…

They had to get there in time.

Had to.

Golden Square seemed so close and yet so damned far away.

Pippa braced her right hand on the carriage wall in a futile effort to limit the effect of the rocking and swaying on her roiling stomach. For a woman who hated theatrics and surprises, this was about her worst nightmare. If anything happened to Abby or little Nerissa because of Grandmother’s self-righteous spite and Lord Campbell’s puritanical nonsense…there would be no place dreary or isolated enough for them to escape her wrath.

Abruptly, warm fingers closed around her left hand, offering silent comfort. Dearest Finn. She gripped his hand in return, only the presence of Lady Campbell and Mr. Gordon halting her from making a rather emotional declaration of appreciation or crawling onto his lap to be petted. But no. This wasn’t the time or place. That would come later, if they ever reached their destination. How could this carriage still be moving? Did she need to fling open the door and cartwheel the rest of the way there?

“I never knew traveling a mile took a thousand years,” she snapped.

Lady Campbell clasped her hands together, her face starkly pale. “Part of me wants to run ahead with a flaming torch to frighten people out of the way, except I cannot run, and a swinging carriage lantern would not offer the same effect. Except to give my damned Bedlamite husband a goose egg on his forehead.”

“I understand,” said Pippa. “I cannot run either. We do have Mr. Gordon, though.”

“Alas, my days in the ring were cut short by a fall over a wooden stool that broke my ankle,” said the former fighter ruefully, even as he flexed his meaty fists. “That is why I train others rather than box for a purse now. I can knock anyone unconscious…except if they run away. Is your husband likely to run or fight, Lady Campbell?”

“I don’t know,” said the baroness anxiously. “I honestly don’t know what Campbell will do. He’s got himself into a terrible lather about Bliss and the items they sell. That whole group think they are the moral guardians of the city, and it is so very tiresome.”

Mr. Gordon’s gaze narrowed. “How many in the group, ma’am?”

“I not sure exactly, but Sir Edwin Ironside is my husband’s aide de camp. Perhaps one or two others. Oh, do forgive me, I’m a foolish old woman who is no help whatsoever.”

Reaching out, Pippa patted the baroness’s arm. This certainly wasn’t her fault, and it was perfectly obvious she didn’t condone what her husband or the other men were doing. “When we get there, we’ll make decisions based on the facts at hand.”

Finn rubbed his jaw, something he often did when deep in thought. “When I met them on Rotten Row, there were five including Campbell and Ironside. The others are more bluster, though. At the first sign of danger, they’ll crumble…at least I hope they will. Thank Christ, here’s the mews. We won’t go in the front door; I’ve got a key to the back.”

Pippa gulped. The entire journey she’d wanted the carriage to go faster, but now they had arrived, she wished for more time to plan. Yet how could they plan? They had no idea who was inside or what they had done and it was thoroughly unnerving.

The second the carriage came to a full halt, Finn didn’t wait for a footman, but yanked open the door and jumped down onto the street. He turned and helped her and Lady Campbell down, Mr. Gordon followed, then the three of them lined up behind Finn while he peered around the corner of the mews, for he knew the area best.

“Clear,” he whispered. “I’ll unlock the door, look about, then wave you over if it’s safe.”

Oh God. They were actually doing this thing, a plan without a plan. Disregarding their audience, Pippa tugged on Finn’s cravat and kissed him fiercely. “Do not do anything foolish. I’ll be very cross if you are hurt.”