Page 10 of A Season for Scandal

“Stop!” I shouted. Or I tried to shout. My chest was heaving rather spectacularly from the running, and the word came out as more of a wheeze, but it was enough to cause Scullen to swing round.

He had his arm raised, and almost struck me as he spun.

“Miss Bloom,” he grunted, his eyes narrowing as he took me in. “Don’t know what you’re doing here. No place for a lady. I’m handling some business.”

His gaze flicked to the girl, who through some instinct had started to crawl in my direction. In Scullen’s eyes there was a heat that told its own story. He would hurt the child, and he’d enjoy doing it.

I straightened up, undoing the clasp on my capacious leather handbag, curling my fingers around the small pair of secateurs that I kept in there habitually. They weren’t much of a weapon, and I was very aware that my knees and my hands were trembling, but it was better than nothing.

I forced my voice to remain calm and even. “I think there has been some mistake,” I said.

The glower on Scullen’s face deepened. I was clearly becoming an inconvenience.

“No mistake when there’s no-good thievin’ bastards about.” Scullen spat on the ground next to the girl, who let out another sound of distress.

“But this girl isn’t a thief,” I said, injecting my tone with surprise.

Scullen’s eyes snapped to mine. “Saw her myself. And this is none of your business, you nosy bi—”

“Mr Scullen,” I snapped frigidly, and it was enough to make him pause in the step he had unthinkingly taken in my direction. “If my employee forgot to pay you for your goods, then I’m sorry. I will rectify the matter immediately.”

Hoping I wasn’t making a mistake, I let go of the secateurs and instead withdrew a couple of coins.

“I believe this should cover it, with a little extra for the inconvenience, of course.” I held the coins out in the palm of my hand.

Scullen’s glare moved between my hand and the girl. I could see the dilemma playing out on his face. He wanted the money, but his blood was up now. He wanted the fight too. He was like a shark moving in for the kill, and I saw, too clearly, the realization dawn that he could have both.

Should have gone for the secateurs, I thought as a slow, cruel smile spread across the man’s face. I knew a moment of utter helplessness, a feeling I was not familiar with, and one I didn’t care for at all.

“Is there a problem?” a cool voice asked from behind me, and I swung round to see a slight, well-dressed woman emerging into our pool of light.

She was around my age, with light brown hair and a sweet face dusted with a smattering of freckles. She stood easily, poised, but there was a sharpness in her dark eyes. The sight of her squaring up to Scullen would have been laughable if the moment wasn’t so terrifying.

“More meddlesome baggage,” Scullen rumbled. “Why don’t you interfering females just f—”

“I believe my wife asked if there was a problem,” came another voice. This one was clipped and cultured, and it belonged to a man of such golden beauty that I swear he illuminated the dingy alleyway with the force of his good looks alone. He was also built like a Greek god, and more than matched Scullen in height. His tone was frostily polite, but his face was set in firm, dangerous lines.

Clearly deciding the odds had shifted, Scullen spat on the ground again, snatched the coins from my hand and stomped away, muttering a lot of uncomplimentary words under his breath.

The woman let out a huff of annoyance. “I had it under control.”

The man chuckled, his arm going round her waist. “I knew that, and you knew that, but I thought I’d just expedite the process.”

I was distracted from this interesting scene by the young girl, who had scrambled to her feet and was about to take to her heels again. I wrapped my hand round her arm and felt her flinch.

“No, no,” I said gently, removing my fingers. “You’re not in trouble. What’s your name?”

She looked up at me with wide brown eyes brimming with suspicion.

“They call me Scout, miss,” she said finally.

“Well, Scout, as a general rule around here, it’s not a good idea to try to steal from Scullen.”

“He’s a bad man,” Scout said, rubbing her hand absently along her arm where I’d touched her.

“Yes,” I agreed. “And I would keep out of his way if I were you. Now, do you know Bloom’s on Oxford Street?”

If she was surprised by the change of subject, she didn’t show it. “Place with all them flowers?” She pursed her lips.