My Lady, My Lord by Katharine Ashe

dugs into Ian’s wrists and he snapped his teeth, a gaslight nearby illuminating the crimson seeping over his lips.
    “Now look what you’ve done, wench. You’ve gone and made ol’ Pepper angry. I told you not to do that.”
    From the darkness a fist collided with Pepper’s cheek and the thief’s fingers loosened. He turned to face his attacker. An arm wrapped around his neck and dragged him from the pool of light. But Ian could see well enough what was happening. His brother and Jag were beating the pulp out of the fellow.
    Finally they backed off, leaving the footpad groaning in pain on the street.
    Gregory wiped his hands on his pantaloons and started jogging away. “Off to rally the Watch,” he called back. “Just passed them on the other side of the square. Be back in a jiff, Lady Corinna.”
    Ian ran his hand over his smarting cheek and turned to his friend.
    Jag’s brow sat low. “Are you all right, my lady?”
    Far from it at present.
    Ian nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
    “All in the line of duty, ma’am.” Jag bowed and smiled. Ian had the irrational urge to slug his friend. As a second son, John Grace had gone to war at a young age. When Napoleon was finally routed, he had returned to the sudden deaths of his father and older brother and an estate gone to seed. But the soldier still clung to him, in both his stance and integrity. Ian forgot that most of the time.
    “It’s fortunate that the two of you happened by,” he said.
    “Lucky that.” Jag peered at him. He didn’t ask what Corinna was doing in the street by herself late at night.
    Ian decided to let him wonder. He needed to get home. To his own home. He must tell Corinna nothing had happened with Abernathy. The footpad grunting in misery on the ground bore home Ian’s own ruthlessness with alarming clarity. The thief wanted to steal Corinna’s purse, no doubt, and possibly more. But Ian had wanted to steal something much dearer. Her self-respect.
    Why after so many years of tormenting her he should finally realize this in the middle of the night on a dark street in the presence of his friend and his brother and the damn blast Watch, Ian had no notion.
    “Here’s the villain,” Gregory said to the men following him. “Take him away, my good fellows.”
    The older of the two Watch officers lifted a graying brow and cast Gregory an indulgent smile, then glanced at Ian as the other went to the footpad and trussed his hands behind his back.
    “You all right with these gents, ma’am?” he asked, gesturing to Ian’s brother and Grace.
    “Yes. I am acquainted with them and my home is only there.”
    The officer nodded and watched the other officer drag the footpad off the ground and push him into motion. “Then, good evening, ma’am, milords.” He tipped his round-topped hat, and the three disappeared into the blackness.
    “Allow us to escort you home, Lady Corinna.” Gregory extended his arm.
    His brother had always liked Corinna and her family. At one time, Mowbray and Ian’s father had considered betrothing Greg to one of Mowbray’s younger daughters, but Ian’s father couldn’t decide on a suitable dowry price and Mowbray lost patience. Still, the families practically grew up on each other’s estates, celebrating holidays together and even sharing the services of art tutors and dancing masters.
    Ian hadn’t danced with Corinna only once, as he had reminded her at the ball earlier. He’d danced with her countless times when they were children, pulling her braids, getting her into trouble with the dancing master, and generally making her miserable as often as possible.
    He took his brother’s arm. “I must be quite a sight. I don’t wish to alarm my father if he’s still awake. Are you going to your brother’s house?”
    Gregory nodded.
    “Could you take me there first, so that I might make myself presentable before returning home?”
    Greg shot a glance over his bonnet. Ian turned and met Jag’s gaze with firm