Darcy reached into his pocket and threw down a pound note on the table. Then he took my arm and half dragged me up the steps.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” he demanded as we stepped out into the night. His eyes were blazing and I thought for one awful moment that he might hit me.

“That stupid man got it wrong.” I was near to tears now. “I advertised my services as an escort. He must have misunderstood. He thought I was—you know—a call girl.”

“You advertised your services as an escort?” Darcy’s fingers were still digging into my upper arm.

“Yes, I put an advertisement in the Times and called myself Coronet Escorts.”

Darcy spluttered. “My dear naïve little girl, surely even you must have realized that the words ‘escort service’ are a polite way of advertising something a little more seedy? Of course he thought he was getting a call girl. He had every right to think so.”

“I had no idea,” I snapped. “How was I to know?”

“Surely you must have had your suspicions when you saw that club. Nice girls do not go to places like that, Georgiana.”

“Then what were you doing in it?” I demanded, my relief now turning to anger. “You walk out of my life. You don’t bother to write. And now I find you slumming it in a place like that. No wonder you’re not interested in me. I don’t take my clothes off in front of a group of men.”

“As to what I was doing there . . .” he said. I thought I detected the twitch of a smile on his lips. “I had to meet a man about a dog. And I can assure you that I didn’t bother to look at what was taking place on the stage. I’ve seen far better and had it offered for free. And as to why I disappeared and didn’t get in touch—I’m sorry. I had to go abroad in something of a hurry. I just got back yesterday. And you’re damned lucky I did, or you’d still be trying to fight off that troglodyte.”

“I would have managed,” I said huffily. “You don’t always have to step in and rescue me, you know.”

“It seems that I do. You’re simply not safe to be allowed out alone in the city,” he said. “Come on. We’re going to Leicester Square where we can pick up a taxicab, and I’m sending you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go home?”

“You have no choice, my lady. Exactly what would your family think if you were snapped by a passing newspaper-man, coming out of a seedy London gentlemen’s strip club? Now walk.”