Effie attempted to pull away from him to no avail. He was far too strong. She glared up at him, summoning her best effort at ladylike outrage. “How dare you accuse me of theft?”

“You took one of his lordship’s books. I saw you.”

“You most certainly did not.” She made another equally unsuccessful effort to free her arm. “I’ll thank you to release me.”

His grip on her only tightened. Effie gave an involuntary cry of pain. “It was you I saw last week in Ellis Street, wasn’t it? That nosy woman with the veil?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have a way of walking. I knew I’d seen it before. When the master finds out—”

Effie pulled at him with all her might. “Unhand me!”

“Oh no,” he said. “I’m taking you back to the house. His lordship will deal with you. Or I can call the constable. It’s your choice.”

Effie dug in her heels. “Let me go, you great oaf!”

Parker dragged her several steps. “The book’s under your dress, isn’t it? Devious slut. I’ll retrieve it myself when I get you back to the house.”

“I’m warning you,” she said.

“Or how ’bout I retrieve it now?” He made a grab for the fabric of her skirts.

Effie’s mind stilled at the physical threat. Her senses sharpened to a knife’s edge, even as her pulse slowed and her respiration grew steady. Years of Academy training ignited in her as instinctively as breathing.

She had warned the man.

Rather than pull away from him, she came closer, gripping him by the front of his coat. As he lunged forward to grasp her skirts, she bent her knees, shifted her weight on her hip, and using his own great bulk against him, tossed him straight over her shoulder.

Parker landed on the ground with a resounding thud. Dust from the alleyway puffed up around him.

Effie lingered only long enough to see if he would remain down.

He didn’t.

He was back up with surprising speed for such a large man, coming at her again, too furious to employ strategy.

She deftly sidestepped him, delivering a sharp elbow to his spine as he passed.

Parker staggered forward, uttering an inarticulate roar of rage. Regaining his balance, he turned on her, his face contorted in a ferocious mask. He made another clumsy lunge.

Effie avoided him again. As he moved by her, she hooked his ankle with her foot, bringing him to one knee.

Panting heavily, the butler regained his footing. “What manner of female—”

“One whose business is no business of yours,” she said. “I’d advise you to—”