attire. A gentleman adjusts his pace to a lady's."
For some reason, Daniel had a hard time thinking of Miss Georgina Meredith Hanover as a lady. Perhaps it was because she was a full head shorter than he, and he was too aware of soft round curves instead of the battleship attire of the ladies he knew. She was too young, too mischievous, too full of laughter to be one of the proud matrons he considered ladies. She was more like Evie—a lady in name only.
Except that his thoughts about Miss Hanover were anything but sisterly.
Damn, but he had trouble keeping his mind where it belonged where women were concerned. Why in hell he had taken on a female photographer was more than he could imagine, but the deed was done and he couldn't undo it. The rustle of stiff satin against whatever getup she wore beneath that gown reminded Daniel only too well of the feminine hand on his arm, even if that haunting scent of lilies didn't surround him. He was damned glad they had almost reached their destination.
Georgina was studying the tiny wooden structures with interest. He bet she had never seen this side of town. Her carriage driver would have made it a point to avoid it when he drove her anywhere. Most of the streets were too narrow for a carriage in any event. Trash littered the dirt space between the two rows of houses, blowing up against the unpainted walls and catching on wooden steps. Here and there someone had made an attempt at cheerfulness by planting geraniums in tin cans and setting them on the steps, but the spot of brightness only served to make the surroundings more dismal in comparison.
Boys played a rough and tumble game of kick-the-can in the middle of the street, and Daniel placed himself between Georgina and the game and skirted around them skillfully. One of the boys shouted a word of greeting, and he lifted his hand in acknowledgement, but he didn't stop to talk any more than the boy stopped his game. Sociability wasn't a priority on this side of town.
"It smells," Georgina muttered as they stopped in front of the narrow one-story shotgun house that was their destination.
"There's no sanitation. No indoor toilets, no yards for privies. I won't tell you what they use." Daniel lifted his knuckles to knock at the weathered door without looking at the expression of wide-eyed horror on his companion's face. He didn't have to see it to know it was there.
The door burst open before he could lower his fist against the wood. A small figure darted from the interior, colliding with Daniel's legs before skittering around him and out into the street, shouting "Douglas!" at the top of her lungs and in a tone of terror.
Daniel staggered, momentarily unbalanced as the collision shifted his weight to his weak leg, but the cries from within forced him forward. Leaving the woman on his arm outside, he stepped into the dim interior.
Clutching her fingers over her mouth to stifle a scream, Georgina glanced after the young girl running and yelling down the street in the direction of the older boys, then back to Mr. Martin, who had just disappeared into the shadows of the interior. She could hear a woman's screams and a man's thundering voice, and she was paralyzed. She had never been in such an unpleasant situation before, and she didn't have experience or etiquette to rely on.
So she relied on instinct. Stepping into the tiny front room, she watched a big ruffian in a derby hat and shapeless sack coat raise his hand to the pretty woman she recognized from her father's factory. The woman cringed, and a younger girl beside her screamed in fury and terror.
Before Georgina could react, Mr. Martin grabbed the bully's collar and jerked him backward. The newspaperman was considerably more slender than his opponent but his action caused the bully's fist to miss its connection. Georgina bit her hand in horror as the bigger man turned in a fury to whip his powerful arm in Mr. Martin's direction.
Daniel dodged, kicked upward in a vicious
For some reason, Daniel had a hard time thinking of Miss Georgina Meredith Hanover as a lady. Perhaps it was because she was a full head shorter than he, and he was too aware of soft round curves instead of the battleship attire of the ladies he knew. She was too young, too mischievous, too full of laughter to be one of the proud matrons he considered ladies. She was more like Evie—a lady in name only.
Except that his thoughts about Miss Hanover were anything but sisterly.
Damn, but he had trouble keeping his mind where it belonged where women were concerned. Why in hell he had taken on a female photographer was more than he could imagine, but the deed was done and he couldn't undo it. The rustle of stiff satin against whatever getup she wore beneath that gown reminded Daniel only too well of the feminine hand on his arm, even if that haunting scent of lilies didn't surround him. He was damned glad they had almost reached their destination.
Georgina was studying the tiny wooden structures with interest. He bet she had never seen this side of town. Her carriage driver would have made it a point to avoid it when he drove her anywhere. Most of the streets were too narrow for a carriage in any event. Trash littered the dirt space between the two rows of houses, blowing up against the unpainted walls and catching on wooden steps. Here and there someone had made an attempt at cheerfulness by planting geraniums in tin cans and setting them on the steps, but the spot of brightness only served to make the surroundings more dismal in comparison.
Boys played a rough and tumble game of kick-the-can in the middle of the street, and Daniel placed himself between Georgina and the game and skirted around them skillfully. One of the boys shouted a word of greeting, and he lifted his hand in acknowledgement, but he didn't stop to talk any more than the boy stopped his game. Sociability wasn't a priority on this side of town.
"It smells," Georgina muttered as they stopped in front of the narrow one-story shotgun house that was their destination.
"There's no sanitation. No indoor toilets, no yards for privies. I won't tell you what they use." Daniel lifted his knuckles to knock at the weathered door without looking at the expression of wide-eyed horror on his companion's face. He didn't have to see it to know it was there.
The door burst open before he could lower his fist against the wood. A small figure darted from the interior, colliding with Daniel's legs before skittering around him and out into the street, shouting "Douglas!" at the top of her lungs and in a tone of terror.
Daniel staggered, momentarily unbalanced as the collision shifted his weight to his weak leg, but the cries from within forced him forward. Leaving the woman on his arm outside, he stepped into the dim interior.
Clutching her fingers over her mouth to stifle a scream, Georgina glanced after the young girl running and yelling down the street in the direction of the older boys, then back to Mr. Martin, who had just disappeared into the shadows of the interior. She could hear a woman's screams and a man's thundering voice, and she was paralyzed. She had never been in such an unpleasant situation before, and she didn't have experience or etiquette to rely on.
So she relied on instinct. Stepping into the tiny front room, she watched a big ruffian in a derby hat and shapeless sack coat raise his hand to the pretty woman she recognized from her father's factory. The woman cringed, and a younger girl beside her screamed in fury and terror.
Before Georgina could react, Mr. Martin grabbed the bully's collar and jerked him backward. The newspaperman was considerably more slender than his opponent but his action caused the bully's fist to miss its connection. Georgina bit her hand in horror as the bigger man turned in a fury to whip his powerful arm in Mr. Martin's direction.
Daniel dodged, kicked upward in a vicious
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