Page 72 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
Matthew leapt at him, and they tumbled to the ground hard, knocking the wind out of both of them. After a stunned moment, Matthew realized he was on top of the fellow, and wrenched the reticule out of the crook of his arm. He jumped up, leaving the man, still gasping for air, on the ground.
A bloody cutpurse.
From above, Matthew could see the man a bit better. Not a man, Matthew realized as he sucked in each breath as if through a very thin straw. A burly, dark-haired youth of fourteen or fifteen years wearing the shabby clothes of a street urchin. He leaned over the lad. “Off with you,” he panted, “before I have you thrown on the gallows.”
“Please…sir…” the boy choked.
“Go,” Matthew ordered. Glancing behind them, he saw a stout couple rounding the corner.“Now.”
The boy stumbled up and staggered off into the darkness. Matthew leaned against the tree, still trying to catch his breath. Perhaps he’d tackled the boy too violently. They’d gone downhard. It was lucky the youth hadn’t landed on a rock and cracked his head open.
The couple hurried up to him, and he could now see that they were an older, matching pair, small and rotund. Even their clothes matched, her brown pelisse seemingly made of the same material as her husband’s coat.
“Where did that scoundrel go to?” the wife demanded, hands on her wide hips, her face twisted in anger. “Had a knife and sliced my purse straight off my wrist, he did!”
Matthew held out the reticule, which appeared to be of the same brown fabric as the couple’s outerwear. “Madam.”
“Where is he?” The man scowled into the darkness as if he’d set off in pursuit at any moment, though he hadn’t pursued the boy when he actuallyhadthe item he’d stolen from them.
“He’s long gone,” Matthew said.
“Well,” the woman said, “at least I’ve got my reticule back.” Holding it in front of her, she eyed the cut strap, which hung limply to its side.
The man patted the woman’s arm. “Let’s go home, dearie.” He tipped his hat to Matthew. “I thank you for retrieving it for us, sir.”
“My pleasure,” Matthew said. The woman clutched the reticule to her chest, and, arm in arm, they rumbled off, muttering about the wicked cutpurse’s audacity.
Matthew strode back the way he’d come just to double-check for any sign of Miss Cherrington but found nothing except the couple who’d been tupping against the tree were now seated propped up against it, the man holding the woman tucked in his arms, her pink silk skirts shimmering softly in the dim light of the hazy nighttime sky. They looked to be asleep, and Matthew left them to their rest.
When he arrived back at the orchestra, Winthrop, Jameson, and Cole were returning at the same time, and the sight of Cherringtons and Porters that greeted him made him sigh in relief. Harriet was among them.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jameson muttered in his ear, and Matthew looked down to see that his knees were caked in mud and several wet leaves were plastered to his coat. He brushed the leaves off quickly, but there was nothing to be done about the mud.
“I’ll tell you later.” Matthew approached the group, and the ladies parted to make way for him, politely ignoring his soiled state. “I found her searching for us in the portrait room,” Charles Cherrington explained.
“Praise the Lord she was unharmed,” Mary breathed.
Matthew bowed to Harriet, who looked…yes, unharmed, but also pink-cheeked and rather windswept. Which was odd, considering the breeze was quite light—only gusting to six to seven miles per hour from the southwest tonight. “I’m glad you are all right, Miss Cherrington.”
Her pink cheeks went darker. “I am fine. Truly, I didn’t mean to cause anyone worry. But I…I couldn’t find anyone for the longest time.”
“We wereterrified,” Esther said dramatically.
Harriet smiled at her sister. “Well, you shouldn’t have been. You knew I’d find you, didn’t you?”
“No,” Esther whispered, wide-eyed. “We thought you’d been abducted. And held for ransom! Or maybe robbed and compromised and left nake—”
“Well,” Mary interrupted crisply, “it is an excellent thing none of that happened and you are hale and in one piece.”
“A very excellent thing!” Miss Appleby exclaimed.
Charles passed a hand over his sweat-beaded brow. “Now that all the excitement has come to a close, I think we should head home. It’s getting quite late.” He turned to Matthew and his friends. “Thank you for helping us search for my sister.”
“Anything for Miss Harriet,” Cole said meaningfully. Matthew shot him a look and said, “Of course. It was our pleasure to help.”
The sisters followed with their thanks, along with Lilly and Jo—who he couldn’t look in the eye as she murmured goodbye, the word landing in his gut like a brick—leaving Harriet for last.
He hadn’t proposed tonight. He’d have to wait until they saw each other again, which would be… “Will I see you at the Houghton House ball on Wednesday, Miss Cherrington?”
