Daniel shot me a look and shook his head, but I remained firm. There was something not quite right in all this, something that did not come together precisely. A discussion with the director would be in everyone’s interest.

Mr. Fielding bent a fierce glare on me. “Do you truly understand, Mrs. Holloway? Or Kat, if I may call you so. Do you know what it is to be small and scared, overpowered no matter how much you fight? Knowing you’ll never see your friends again? Locked away so men can put their filthy hands on you whenever they like? And you’re too small to fight ‘em off, as much as you try?” He broke off, his bitterness vast. “The whole lot of them should be strung up by their balls. Even worse are the madams and procuring gents who pander to them.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “I am sorry, Mr. Fielding. I did not realize.”

“Of course you didn’t. Why would I want you to? Do you know how I was rescued from that life? The piece of excrement with me one night was an enemy of Carter’s. I’d managed to smuggle a knife into the room, and I stabbed the bastard with it, but not hard enough. I was a tiny chap, and he was beating me to nothing when Carter and his bullies broke in and killed him. I laughed. Fell down, I was laughing so hard. Carter had compassion in him—somewhere—and he liked that I was cheering on his lads. Carter took me home with him. At first I assumed I was out of the frying pan and into the fire, but no. Thank God. Daniel was already living with Carter, and was healthy and happy. He explained to me that Carter was a decent chap, not that I believed him at first. But I learned.”

The Lord had certainly been looking out for Mr. Fielding that night, I decided, if in an unusual way.

“I am so sorry,” I repeated. I had no words of comfort. I knew, that again, but for the grace of God and a mother who’d worked her fingers to the bone to keep me fed, I could have ended up like him. So Daniel could have, and if not for my dear friends and my own determination, so might Grace.

“Don’t bleat compassion for any them, Kat,” Mr. Fielding went on. “If I break the director’s neck, do not try to stop me. I admire you, and I don’t want to do you harm.”

I held on to my patient tone. “I agree that if the director had anything to do with the bawdy house, he should be speedily punished. But we must first find out. Beating down an innocent man is not the thing, Mr. Fielding.”

“Not the thing.” Mr. Fielding’s voice was acrid. “Not the thing, is it? Where did you find this woman, Daniel?”