To Charm a Bluestocking

by Renée Dahlia

  A sharp whistle pierced the noise. Nicholas spun in the saddle towards the noise. The older Van Percy stood among the mob. He waved his arms towards a side street. The crowd roared and changed direction to head away from the line of police. The police shifted in response. They surged, chasing the crowd. Nicholas kept his eye on Van Percy. The villain climbed up a brick fence post at the corner of the side street. The rioters raced past him and down the street. Van Percy perched very still. The shifting crowd was a diversion.

  Van Percy reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pistol. It happened quickly and Nicholas had barely a second to respond. He reached across and slapped Koekje’s horse on the flank. It shied sideways. Koekje’s hat flew off his head as he kept his seat on the bolting horse. A shot rang out. It hit Koekje’s hat as it fell from his head to the ground. The hat landed in the space left by Koekje’s upset horse. Nicholas’s action had prevented Koekje being shot in the chest. Koekje dug his heels into his horse. The horse surged forward into a gallop. Past the line of officers. Towards Van Percy’s pistol.

  Nicholas followed. Being on horseback gave them a speed advantage. Koekje reached Van Percy before he could reload. Koekje’s batton flew out and hit Van Percy direct in the face. He fell from his perch on the fence into the garden behind. Nicholas grinned as Koekje swung off his horse to arrest the surgeon’s brother.

  He turned to watch the rioting crowd as they raced on down the side street. He gasped. His horse tugged at the reins. The crowd headed towards their favourite pub hangout. Nicholas yelled at the line of officers. He spun his horse around and galloped back to the next side street. He wanted to approach the pub from the rear entrance. To stay clear of the rioting crowd. To give Daan, the publican, some warning.

  Nicholas pulled his horse to a halt in the laneway behind the pub. He left the loyal gelding untied in the pub’s small courtyard. It was usually reserved for storage with just enough room for one riding horse to stand and rest. Sweat poured down his arms. His hand slipped on the door handle. He thumped his shoulder against the door and it crashed open.

  The blood drained from his face as he skied to a halt in the doorway. Josephine sat in the corner laughing. Her innocence didn’t compute in this fraught situation. He rushed over to the table and grabbed her by the sleeve.

  ‘You have to leave. Now. By the back door.’

  Chapter 14

  Josephine berated herself as she sat with her friends in their favourite pub. Was it idiotic to be tied up in knots over this? Just because Nicholas had disappeared without word for three days. Three days. She thumped the table with her fist and glared at the back wall.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ asked Marie.

  ‘Yes. No. Damn it,’ she said.

  ‘What has he done?’ asked Claire with a sly look on her face. The sight of it made Josephine want to stamp her feet. Instead, she ripped a page from her notebook, crumpled it in her hand and flung it at Claire who laughed and caught the offending ball.

  ‘Men! Who needs them,’ said Claire.

  ‘Come now, Claire. There’s no need to be harsh before you know the problem,’ said Marie. Her soft voice should have soothed Josephine. Instead, Josephine feel foolish. Foolish to pine over Nicholas. Or was it? They’d rolled around naked on the floor of her room, and then he’d just disappeared.

  ‘Maybe he is hurt,’ she whispered. She hadn’t wanted to state her worst fear aloud.

  ‘Who? St. George?’ asked Claire. ‘Why? Why do you say that?’

  Josephine sighed and rubbed her temples.

  ‘It’s been three days. He hasn’t arrived for our daily walk, and he hasn’t left a note,’ she said. Silence hung in the air. Marie reached out and patted Josephine’s arm in a comforting gesture.

  ‘Well. Isn’t that typical of a man? To just go off to somewhere unknown and not even think to tell anyone,’ said Claire.

  ‘Do you think so?’ asked Josephine.

  ‘Probably.’ Claire shrugged. ‘The whole thing was fake anyway. Perhaps he figures the job is done.’

  Josephine closed her eyes and sank her head into her hands. Could it be? If Claire was right, it was damned rude of him to just leave. She growled under her breath and sat up straight. Better to think him rude than injured, or worse. She bit her bottom lip. She turned towards Claire and opened her eyes.

  There he was. Resplendent in his riding breeches and boots. Snow fell in a fine flurry off his greatcoat. He had a dark grey woollen scarf wrapped around his neck against the cold weather. His hair was wild, buffeted by the outdoor wintery blast of wind. He looked alive and vibrantly real. She slumped a fraction in her seat as he marched towards her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up.

  ‘You have to leave. Now. By the back door.’

  ‘You can’t just rush in here and grab me,’ she said. She shook her arm, lifted her chin and tugged away from him. Anger pulsed in her veins overtaking the sheer relief at seeing him. How dare he just disappear then march in here and make demands. Her heart beat in a fury of conflict. He pulled her closer until she slammed into his chest. She bared her teeth at him and fought for her freedom.

  ‘Yes, I can. You need to leave NOW. Get up and come with me.’ His voice was terse. Each word short and sharp, infused with an urgency that sent a red hot pulse searing through her body. She punched him on the arm and tried to step on his foot.

  ‘Goddamn it, woman. You have to get out of here,’ he said. He lifted her from her feet, and she kicked out at his legs as he carried her out of the back door into the laneway. His horse stood there, loyal. He set her down into the light dusting of snow.

  ‘Please,’ he said. His breath came hard and rapid. ‘Go. Go down this laneway. You’ll be safe that way. Stay away from the port road.’ Josephine gave him a shove. He stood there like a brick. Only his heightened colour and panting chest moved.

  ‘What do you mean, safe? You can’t just push me around like this.’ She sucked in a huge breath and looked wildly around her. Claire and Marie skied to a halt beside her. They must have followed. She could only hear her blood rushing in her ears.

  ‘What the heck is the noise?’ asked Claire. Could Claire hear it too? What? She rubbed her eyes.

  ‘That sound is why you have to leave. There is a riot. It is heading for this pub. Go. Run. I have to warn people.’ Nicholas turned and ran back into the pub. Josephine and her friends stood in the rear laneway. Josephine heaved out a huge breath and shook out her hands.

  ‘Well,’ said Marie. ‘That was forceful and unexpected. From the noise, I guess he is right and we should get out of here.’

  Josephine froze to the spot. Her blood pumped and she stared around; not seeing anything. A new noise infiltrated. A noise like nothing she’d ever heard before. Voices joined into a mob that escalated as it neared them. It drowned everything around and echoed off the buildings. Oh. That noise. Holy hell!

  Josephine glanced at her friends as they hitched up their skirts. Together they ran down the laneway, along the canal and up onto a bridge. A big whoosh went up and the sky behind them lit up red. They spun in unison to see fire leaping from the windows of the Ship and Anchor.

  ‘Nicholas!’ Josephine cried out. ‘He’s in there.’ She ran back towards the pub.

  ‘Wait.’ Claire’s voice rang out high-pitched and pierced through the mob’s noise. The horse, fully saddled, galloped past. His ears pinned back in terror. The beast nearly knocked Josephine down as she rushed towards Nicholas.

  The snow came down heavier. Her feet slipped as she turned the corner back into the rear laneway. Flames leapt from the upper level windows of the pub. The sound of the fire and mob dominated everything. Josephine slid to a halt, her breath rapid as she stared at the flames. Marie and Claire arrived next to her. Their chests heaving for breath. Josephine shook her head slowly. The building was lost. She could only hope that Nicholas had made it out safely from the other side. Into the angry mob. Oh! It hit her with a force. He couldn’t have survi
ved. Tears streamed down her face as she sank to her knees in the slushy snow. Shattered as the pub burnt.

  Suddenly a figure staggered out of the flames. It was an indescribable sight, hellish and on fire. The figure collapsed into the snow. Josephine leapt to her feet. All three women raced over to the fallen person. They furiously dug at the snow to put out the flames that licked at the lump of clothing. The heat from the fire enveloped them. The snow melted, hindering their efforts.

  ‘Pull,’ said Claire. Together they dragged at the body. Someone screamed as the body came apart into two pieces.

  ‘Oh! It’s two people,’ shouted Marie. The intense heat from the building made it impossible to breathe. Josephine’s lungs screamed for air. All three pulled hard to drag both bodies along the laneway. A resounding crash rang in the air as the roof collapsed. The eve above the door started to hang in a precarious fashion. Josephine put all her efforts into dragging the two poor bodies away from the fire. Together, they managed to get them to the end of the laneway. Far enough to be safe from the burning building. The snow on the ground extinguished the flames. The two bodies lay askew covered in wet blackened clothing. The three friends dug frantically to cover the two bodies in snow to prevent any further burn damage.

  One of the bodies groaned and together Marie and Josephine rolled it over. It was Nicholas, his face charred down one side. Josephine dropped to her knees and kissed his forehead. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She grabbed his wrist and felt for his pulse. Faint, but there.

  He opened his eyes and croaked ‘Jo’. Josephine looked up at her friends.

  ‘He’s alive, just. The other?’

  Claire tried to find a pulse in vain.

  ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘I hate to say this, but that building is going to collapse, and there is a riot on the other side of it. We can’t stay here. I think we have to leave that guy and get St. George to safety,’ said Marie.

  ‘I agree,’ said Claire. ‘I’m confident this man is dead. We can leave the body for the authorities to find. There is nothing more we can do for him.’

  The building continued to burn and flames licked the sky behind them. The sound of the mob receded in Josephine’s ears as her whole attention focused on Nicholas. She had to get Nicholas to somewhere they could treat him. She blinked to focus her vision and looked wildly around.

  ‘We can fashion a stretcher using some of these fence palings,’ said Josephine.

  ‘Oh yes, I remember doing that back in first year,’ said Marie. Marie marched into the neighbouring yard and came back with two brooms.

  ‘Here, these might work. It’ll be easier than trying to kick the palings off the fence. We can wrap that other man’s coat across them and Jo and I can pull while Claire holds St. George in place.’

  ‘It’s a shame we didn’t catch that horse,’ said Claire. They worked rapidly together to create their makeshift stretcher and rolled Nicholas carefully onto it. Josephine and Marie grabbed a broomstick each and started to drag the stretcher along the canal roadway towards the bridge. Claire walked beside them holding Nicholas by the shoulders, ensuring that he stayed on the stretcher and that his mouth was open and he could breathe. It was slow, difficult work as they progressed to the end of the laneway.

  With a great crash the burning building collapsed behind them. Burning pieces of wood and embers flew in all directions. Most landed in the laneway on the patch of ground they had just vacated. A small burning piece of wooden roof tile crashed into Marie’s skirt. She leapt in fright. Claire clutched at the stretcher. Together they put in a big effort to drag their patient further from the fire.

  ‘Marie, you are on fire!’ Claire said as they reached the next cross street. Josephine clung onto the stretcher. Her fingers dug into the coat holding Nicholas. Marie swatted madly at her skirt to put out the flames. Nicholas rolled off the stretcher onto the ground as Josephine’s sole grip gave out. He groaned as he hit the ground. Claire helped Marie put out her skirt. Josephine leant down to help Nicholas. He moaned, a deep wail of agony, before he passed out again.

  Marie rolled in the snow to ensure that she was completely free of fire but she was now soaking wet and cold. The wind rushed along the canal. A cruel reminder of winter. They tried to regather the stretcher. The small crash had caused one of the broomsticks to break.

  ‘We aren’t going to get far now,’ said Marie.

  ‘You two stay here with him. I will run to the end of the street and find a horse to assist us,’ said Claire.

  ‘I think Marie should go. She is faster than you,’ said Josephine. She didn’t want to leave Nicholas.

  ‘You are the tallest, so you are most likely the fastest,’ said Marie. Josephine heard the tiredness in Marie’s voice. It was easy to take swipes at each other now that the shock had worn off and the cold seeped in.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Claire, ‘I’ll go.’ She raced off.

  ‘We should try again,’ Marie said. Josephine nodded and tried to silently communicate encouragement to Marie. She must be frozen to the skin, yet Josephine admired her tenacity to continue.

  ‘Yes. We don’t know how long she will be, and we can’t stay out here. It’s freezing. He will die if we can’t get him treated and warm,’ Josephine said. She knew there was a good chance that he would die anyway. He had a severe burn on his face, and burns were notoriously difficult to treat. Thankfully the pain had rendered him unconscious. Together they tugged at him and rolled him back onto the makeshift stretcher. With one side sagging thanks to the broken broom handle, they made slow progress. Josephine gritted her teeth as her arms started to shake.

  Although it felt like hours, it had only been a few minutes of desperate effort when Claire charged up on horseback.

  ‘Hey, look what I found. All saddled up and just standing around the corner eating a tree,’ she called out as she got closer. She slid from the saddle and shook out her skirts that she had hitched up around her hips as she rode astride.

  ‘Thank God,’ whispered Josephine. Her whole body ached with exhaustion. She could see Marie shaking with cold.

  ‘Let’s make one final big effort and get him up on the horse. My house is only a few blocks away and we can get there quickly once he is up.’

  Chapter 15

  On arrival at the house, Betsy gasped at the sight of the three bedraggled friends and Nicholas slumped over the horse.

  ‘Quick. Gather the staff. Marie needs a warm bath and we must treat Nicholas. We will need Cook’s help to carry him,’ Josephine said. Now that they were here, she could feel another surge of energy to get her through the next stage of this disaster. Betsy raced off to the kitchen to get help. She came back with Cook and a man who helped carry Nicholas off the horse and into the front room. Josephine gathered up blankets and other supplies. Betsy wrapped one around Marie’s shaking body and guided her down to the bathing room. Thankfully this old house had been refitted with decent plumbing and a bath could be had without the need for servants to carry hot water.

  Josephine checked Nicholas for a pulse. It was there, but very weak. His greatcoat was saturated from the snow, so she tugged at the arms to get him out of it. She had to get him warm. Then she could assess his injuries. The coat must have shrunk in its wet state. She pulled with all her might, bracing one leg against the chaise lounge.

  ‘Well, that’s the horse sorted. I’ve tied him up out the front with a blanket as a rug and his gear next to him. Hopefully his owner will find him,’ said Claire. She burst out into hysterical laughter.

  ‘Oh my … oh. Oh. What on earth are you doing to him?’

  ‘Removing his coat,’ Josephine said tightly. As if it wasn’t obvious. What else would she be doing? And why did Claire find it so amusing?

  ‘It looks ridiculous,’ she said. She took a few breaths to get her laughter under control. ‘Maybe you should just cut it off him?’

  ‘Oh, of course. That would make more sense. I think the wool has shrunk,’ said Josephine
. ‘There should be scissors in Betsy’s sewing box, just over there.’

  Claire rummaged through the box and found a pair of scissors that might do the job. She came over and started hacking at the coat. ‘Gosh, it is very wet. We will have to remove all his clothes, I think, in order to properly diagnose him.’

  ‘Yes. He has that obvious burn to the face. I think being dragged and rolled through all that snow has helped cool that down. But I’m concerned that he remains unconscious,’ said Josephine. Thanks to Claire’s outburst, Josephine could take a breath. Try to get rid of the panic. She’d had extensive training and could put it into use here, if she could just stay focused on him as a patient. If she thought of him as her Nicholas, she might fall apart. There would be time for that later.

  Together with the scissors they made short work of his clothes. Josephine noted Claire’s raised eyebrows as they peeled off the final layer to expose his chest and abdomen.

  ‘I think we’ll leave his drawers on,’ Josephine said, although she was rather curious.

  ‘Aren’t you a little curious? Or perhaps you already know, and don’t want to share,’ Claire teased.

  ‘Can you concentrate?’ Josephine stared at her friend. Amazed she could make silly remarks at a time like this.

  Claire sighed. ‘I’m sorry. Comments like that help me concentrate without getting emotionally overwhelmed by the situation.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Josephine. ‘At least it looks like the facial burn is the worst of the injury. Shall we try to roll him and examine his back?’

  ‘Yes, let’s do that. Then we can get him warm and put a poultice on that burn. We should check his skull too. He might have a head injury that would account for his lack of consciousness,’ said Claire, clearly more comfortable discussing work. They rolled him on his side to examine down his back, and found a large bruise down one side. They poked at it and decided that he probably hadn’t broken a rib but it did look rather nasty. It looked like his greatcoat and gloves had protected most of his skin from the fire. Several other large bruises had started to form but nothing that wouldn’t heal. Claire pulled the remaining wet clothes from under him while he was on his side. Josephine let him roll onto his back and they quickly wrapped him on fresh blankets. With his torso wrapped up warm, Josephine attempted to tug off his boots. They were stuck fast. Claire used the scissors to remove them and the reason for the difficulty became immediately apparent. His ankle was hugely swollen, perhaps broken. They propped it up on some pillows and quickly cut off his trousers and wrapped him up in blankets.