Authors: Dark Moon
Casting a quick look about him, his eye fell on his own carriage. Thank God it hadn’t been moved yet. He and Will walked toward it slowly.
“Wot do you want ’ere?” came a surly voice from the dark. A figure emerged from the back, a very large man with a scarred face and an ear that looked like a cauliflower. Out of the corner of his eye, Giles could see no sign of Joanna and the children, but who knew how long the man had been standing there watching?
“We’ve been sent by his lordship to take this coach,” said Giles. The man either bought the story or he would regain consciousness sometime this afternoon with a very bad headache and a lump on the head.
The man was silent for a moment, as if weighing these words. “Where’re you takin’ it?” came his unexpected response.
“We’re not allowed to say.” Giles was deliberately laconic. It seemed unlikely that Lord Beeson would want this man to know where the carriage was being sent.
“All right.” The man stepped back and gestured to the carriage. “Bobby said it was to be kept ready to go, and it is.” The man seemed proud that he had followed his orders correctly. Giles began to wonder whether he was simple, but did not waste any time thinking about it.
Giles cast a glance back to the door, behind which he knew Joanna stood with the children. The man had done nothing to indicate he knew there were others in the stable.
Shrugging with feigned indifference, Giles started forward, motioning for Will to follow. As Will moved, apparently the chest and carpet became visible to the man.
“Wot’s that stuff doin’ there?” he asked, suspicion clear in his voice.
Now it was obvious he suspected them of stealing.
“We were told to bring that chest and carpet out here to be picked up by the junk man,” said Giles in what he dearly hoped was a reasonably disinterested tone of voice. “We left it inside so it doesn’t get rained on, because we don’t know when they’ll come for it.”
Now he had the man’s attention. He could almost see the calculations working through the slow brain as the eyes narrowed and the expression became thoughtful. Then a slow smile spread across the man’s ugly face.
“Aye, leave ’em ’ere,” the man said. “I’ll move ’em back if it starts to rain.”
Giles shrugged. Unless he missed his guess, Lord Beeson was going to be short one Oriental carpet and one chest of drawers in a matter of hours.
“Let’s go,” Giles said to Will as they continued on to the carriage. Giles prayed that the man would leave them so that Joanna and the children could come out of hiding, and considered their options in case he did not.
The carriage stood facing the wide door, so it would be a simple matter to drive it from the stables. He and Will climbed to the box. The man showed no signs of moving, staring with a rather vacant, covetous expression at the carpet and chest, too close to where Joanna and the children hid behind the door for Giles’s comfort.
Giles made a great show of fiddling with the reins, but the man just stood there. Finally, with a great sigh of exasperation, Giles chucked the horses forward. Well-fed and somewhat rested, they ambled pleasantly toward the door, posting-house nags that they were. Just as the carriage came abreast of the door to the stable, Giles brought it to a halt. “Get them in,” he hissed under his breath to Will, who gave the slightest of nods.
“One of ’em’s pullin’ wrong,” said Giles, in a loud aggravated tone. He leaped from the box and moved quickly to the front horse away from the side where he hoped Joanna and the children could climb in unnoticed.
He and the man reached the horse’s head at the same time.
“Check the bit. It may be her mouth is tender, but we’ve no time to delay. Of course, it could be her shoe. But if it is, you’ll have to get us a different horse, because we can’t be hangin’ around here all afternoon,” Giles nattered on, the corner of his eye watching the faint crack of light through the window flap as the far carriage door opened.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with the bit,” the man said, inspecting it.
“Well, check the shoe then,” said Giles. He bent over, seemingly to adjust the way his breeches cuffed his knee, watching surreptitiously as shadows crossed the crack of light inside the carriage. The carriage rocked slightly, and Giles held his breath, praying that the man, bent as he was over the horse’s hoof, would not notice. After a moment, the crack of light closed up, and all was darkness inside the carriage again.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with the shoe, neither,” said the man, who stood and dusted off his hands as if that was the end of it. Just then Will materialized at Giles’s elbow.
“Well, let’s just go, then,” said Will gruffly with a look that spoke of success.
“All right, climb up,” responded Giles, pulling himself to the box. Will climbed up beside him and took the reins.
“They’re in,” Will whispered below his breath, chucking the reins over the horses’ backs. They started to move forward and Giles started to breathe again, not certain he had taken a breath since he had first seen Joanna in this place.
Painfully slowly, the horses moved forward. The sun moved faster, Giles thought. Glaciers were reckless and precipitous. These horses were sluggish. Just as he thought he would go mad, Giles saw the high wall of the property slip past them. They were in the alleyway and so far there was no pursuit.
“Turn to the left as we reach the street,” said Giles to Will. “When we get away a few blocks, stop and I’ll get in the carriage. Good work in the stables, Will. I’m surprised that fellow didn’t notice anything.”
“He was too set on filchin’ that chest and carpet to care what we did, Sir Giles,” replied Will, his mind on the narrow turn. “By the way,” he continued as the turn was safely negotiated. “I took the liberty of filchin’ the ropes from the chest myself, in case we’ve got more trouble comin’.”
“Good man, because we are not clear yet,” responded Giles. “Some of the lower windows were undraped and open. Anyone could have looked out and seen us, and some might know this carriage was not supposed to be leaving yet.” Giles leaned over the side of the carriage and looked behind him. He could see no one. They were now on the small side street. Not too much further on, the street gave onto the main boulevard that the house fronted. “When we get to the boulevard, turn right, away from the house, so we don’t have to pass in front of it. Once we are on the boulevard it will be harder for anyone to assault us in broad daylight on a busy street.”
The attack came without warning. Giles only had time to note that it was Teddy coming at him before the man had hoisted himself in one fluid movement onto the box. He carried a riding crop in one hand and a large pistol in the other. A shout from Will caused Giles to look around, in time to see Bobby hurling himself at Will.
Giles swung back around toward Teddy, his fist coming up in reflex. Teddy had lifted the riding crop and was bringing it down at Giles’s face. Like lightning, Giles reached out, catching the crop in his fist, but sustaining the crushing weight of the blow against his shoulder. For an instant they hung suspended, then, finding the strength from he knew not where, Giles heaved Teddy back. At that moment, Will, in lifting his hands to ward off a blow from Bobby, jerked wildly on the reins. Both horses reared, whinnying, throwing the still-moving carriage off balance. His purchase slipping, Teddy made a wild grab at Giles’s arm, dropping the pistol as he did so. Teddy fell backwards, bringing Giles down on top of him. They landed on the rough cobblestones with Giles’s full weight against Teddy’s chest. Giles could hear the wind being knocked out of the man, and he knew he had only a matter of seconds to get the upper hand. He jammed his fist into his assailant’s stomach, just as the man struggled to draw in a breath. Giles slammed another blow to his jaw, while Teddy brought his knee up hard into Giles’s gut. Giles doubled over from the pain, but brought his arm hard against Teddy’s throat, throwing his whole weight against it. He could feel the man struggle beneath him, but his struggles became feebler as his face turned purple. At last his eyes dimmed and he went still. Giles sat up, whipping his neckcloth from the pocket where he had stuffed it earlier. Swiftly, he tied Teddy’s hands tightly together, noting that the man’s chest rose and fell slightly. Good. He didn’t want him dead. Not that easily.
Will had dropped the reins and the horses had quieted and halted, the carriage righting itself. Giles could hear shouts from Will, above on the box. At least the man was still alive. As Giles stood, willing his muscles to hold him up, the door to the carriage opened and Joanna all but tumbled out, her face ashen.
“Giles!” she screamed. “What is it?”
Giles reached down and picked up the pistol from the ground where it had fallen. He tossed it to Joanna. “Take this and get back inside,” he shouted, “Toss me one of the ropes Will put in because my neckcloth won’t hold this one long if he wakes up. There’s one more up there fighting Will and I don’t know if they alerted anyone else at the house. If anyone but me or Will opens that carriage door, shoot him!”
Joanna nodded, and pulled herself back into the carriage. A second later the door opened and she handed out a rope.
Giles made quick work of securing Teddy, hands and feet, and then he ran around the back of the carriage, noting that no one seemed to have come out into the street to see what the commotion was all about. When he reached Will’s side he could see that his man was taking the worst end of a bad beating. Will’s head was lolling to one side and his nose was bleeding copiously again. Bobby had drawn back his fist to land one more, killing blow to Will’s head. In an instant, Giles was upon him, grabbing at both of his legs from below and twisting sharply. As he had hoped, Bobby was thrown off balance. The last blow never landed. The man fell backwards, and Giles had only enough time to step to one side as the heavyset man hurtled down, smashing on his side against the cobblestones.
As Giles leaned down to pull him up, Bobby’s leg shot up, trying to aim a kick at Giles’s groin. Giles grabbed the man’s foot and twisted it hard, causing him to cry out and turn his body to lessen the pain. Now Bobby lay face down and Giles dropped to sit on his back, still holding the man’s foot twisted at an unnatural angle.
A shadow fell over him and Giles looked up, startled, fearing reinforcements from the house. Instead, he looked into the calm eyes of Tom who held the other length of rope in his hand which he proffered silently to Giles.
“Bless you again, boy,” said Giles, grabbing the rope and tying the man’s arms behind him. “I don’t know what I would have done next. I’m about done for, you know.”
Tom smiled, and waited while Giles made short work of it.
Giles struggled to his feet, placing his hand on Tom’s head. “Get back into the carriage and take care of your Aunt Joanna, please, Tom. I’ve one more of these miscreants to deal with and I’m sure she’s frightened to death.” He hobbled a bit when he walked and was quite sure he’d be crippled for days.
“Auntie is watching him,” said Tom simply, taking Giles’s arm as if he’d help him walk.
“Oh, God!” Giles bolted around the carriage, only to run smack into Joanna who was coming around the other way, the pistol held out before her as if it were a cross in front of a vampire.
“Giles!” she screamed, jerking the pistol to one side as he knocked into her. “I might have shot you!”
“I
thought I told you to stay inside the carriage!” he thundered, grabbing her arm and propelling her back toward the carriage door. “That man is still alive and he is not above figuring out how to knock you down, even tied up!”
“No, he couldn’t. He was quite unconscious still.”
Giles just stared at her, then, recovering himself, walked over to where Teddy lay, breathing shallowly but still unconscious. Giles turned a wry smile on Joanna. “I am grateful that you wanted to help, my darling, but the next time we are attacked by cutthroats, I would appreciate it if you’d just let me handle it.” He gave up and threw his arms around her, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair which had come loose from its mobcap.
“I couldn’t let them have you again,” he murmured against her neck. “Now,” he said, pulling away, “back in with you this instant. I’m going to heave these two up onto the box with me. I’ll put Will down with you if I can move him. We’re headed straight for my solicitors’ office. Pray that these lowlifes did not alert anyone else in the house before they ran after us. I think someone would have been here by now if they had. One of them must have seen the carriage leaving from one of the windows.” Gently he disengaged the pistol from her grasp and, tucking the weapon into his waistband, he led her to the door of the carriage. Tom was there ahead of them, climbing in and holding the door open for Joanna.
“You’ll call us if you need help, or if anyone comes, won’t you?” she asked, climbing in, anxiety shading her eyes.
“Well, you’ll know if anyone comes, because all hell will break loose again. But, yes, I’ll let you know if I need you,” he said, touching her cheek softly and slamming the door shut behind her. He would not, of course, but better to get her back in than stand around discussing it.
Climbing up onto the box, Giles found that Will was barely conscious. His nose had stopped bleeding and he had to be helped, half-carried down from the box. Giles’s shoulder screamed with the effort, and he was vaguely aware that this was the same shoulder he’d laid open to the bone only a few months ago. Well, he had too far to go this day to worry about it now.
He got Will into the carriage, Joanna pulling as hard as he pushed. She clucked and exclaimed over all the blood and was busy ripping up her cotton petticoat when he closed the door again.
Lifting Teddy and Bobby, dead weights both of them, felt as if it might very nearly be the death of him. Only the thought of what the courts would do to Lord Beeson and his establishment, once these men gave their confessions, got them heaved up onto the box.
Giles took the reins into his hands and clucked the skittish horses forward. The whole attack could not have taken as much as five minutes, yet it seemed a lifetime since they had driven through the gates of hell. It also seemed it would be a long, painful drive to the solicitors’ office near Lincoln’s Inn. Giles hunched forward, favoring his shoulder as best he could, and prayed that he would not lose consciousness.