More whistles sounded, and a harsh horn trumpeted the arrival of a police wagon. Hugh took her hand and strode forward, quickly putting distance between them and the warehouse—and her group.

"Hugh, you must stop. I have to go back!"

He ignored her.

When she tried to dig in her heels, he easily pulled her along. "Hugh! My cousins and my friend are still back there."

"They're fine. But if you go back in your condition, you'll get arrested."

"In my condition?"

"Drunk."

"Well, since you've addressed it, I will tell you that, in mycondition , the idea of going back to save my friends feels imperative and quite achievable."

"Will no' happen."

The alley finally ended, and they reached a cabstand. So Hugh was sending her home for the night? Perfect. She'd let the cabbie go a block, and then she'd get out and return.

As ever, a score of drivers geared up to jockey and wrangle for the fare. But Hugh held up one finger with a look that subdued even this lively bunch, then pointed to the nicest-looking cab. The chosen cabbie eased his vehicle over, all obliging.

Hugh tossed Jane inside, then turned to direct the driver to his mount on the next street over. When she realized Hugh was accompanying her, Jane opened the opposite door and heedlessly climbed out.

"Damn it, Jane." He loped around the carriage after her, swooping her to his side with his arm around her waist.

She was being carried again and could do little more than drunkenly blink behind her mask.

"Your friends are safe," he repeated as he tossed her back in, keeping a fist in her skirts as he joined her. He slammed one door, then reached over her to slam the other. Once they'd begun to roll along, he finally relaxed a fraction.

He'd never forget catching sight of her inside, then seeing her disappear in that swarm of people. Never, not as long as he lived.