Sherbrooke Twins tb-8
Page 13
James cursed as he ran to Corrie. She was struggling to her knees. “We’ve got to hurry, Corrie. Sorry, but no horses. Can you walk? Are you badly hurt?”
“Oh dear, there’s Ben, holding his arm. I got him with the pitchfork. Let’s go, James. I’m all right.”
Each of them held a gun in one hand, James nearly dragging her after him. They ran into the woods that bordered the narrow road. There was a gunshot, more yelling-this one out of Ben’s mouth-if James wasn’t mistaken, since he was screaming about how the bitch stuck his arm with that nasty pitchfork.
Well, the three bastards had only one gun and no horses. He and Corrie were better off. He wanted to go back and pound them, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they had more guns. He didn’t think they did, but who knew how Augie’s brain worked?
They ran through the woods, tripping over roots, until he couldn’t hear any of the men yelling anymore.
“Hold, Corrie. Let’s wait a minute.”
She was breathing hard, gulping in air, and nearly fell against a pine tree, her arms wrapped around her chest, the gun dangling from two fingers.
James stood there, staring at her. Her once white ball gown was black with smoke and soot, ripped and grimy, one sleeve hanging by a thread. Her hair was streaming in wild tangles down her back and onto her face. She was still grinning at him, all white teeth against the black face, still panting hard.
James laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “Well done,” he said and grabbed her hand. “They’ve got to come after us, although I can’t imagine how they’re going to do it. Ben’s got your pitchfork tong through his arm and he won’t be good for much. Damn, I wish I knew how many guns they have.”
“If they catch those wretched horses, we might be in deep trouble again, James. I saw that lead horse run off the road and head toward the cliffs, out in the open, where we can’t go.”
James frowned thoughtfully down at his boots. “I don’t think they saw the horses or where they went. But if they do manage to catch them, they could go back to the shed and get the carriage. That wouldn’t be good.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Then let’s take care of that carriage, James.”
James was weighing the risks. “It’s a matter of how much they were paid to take me. If it’s a lot, then they will try their best to get me again.”
“I hope it was a carriage-full,” Corrie said, eyes narrowing. “Failure must really taste bad if you lose a lot of money. Let’s not take the chance. Let’s get that carriage.”
It took them only ten minutes to make their way back to the cottage. Augie and the boys had pulled the blanket off the chimney. James quickly saw that the cottage, with its door hanging on its rusted hinges, was quite empty, except for the pitchfork with a bit of blood on its tip. No Billy, Ben, or Augie.
When they got to the shed, James picked up an old, rotted axe, grinned like the Devil himself, and destroyed one wheel while Corrie took the pitchfork to the other. When the wheels were in shards on the ground, James dropped the axe, rubbed his hands together, and said, “That’s slowed them down. Let’s go.”
They were off again. Not more than a minute after they’d stepped into the woods, they heard Augie yell, “Tar and damnation, curse the young ’un! The little bastid ruined the carriage. I’ll have to kick ’im into the ground when I gits me fists on ’im.”
“He gave me no credit at all,” Corrie said.
“If they try for us again, you can shoot him.”
“Yes, yes, I think that’s a fine idea.”
There was generalized cursing, nothing really original, Corrie thought, from all three of the men as James and Corrie stood quietly, listening and smiling.
James whispered near her ear, “Do you know where we are?”
“I know we took a turnoff to Clacton-on-Sea.”
“That far east,” he said. He looked down at her, saw that she was shivering like a loon, and quickly took off his coat. Corrie sighed and hugged it close. It felt as warm as bread just toasted in the oven. “Ah, that feels good, James. You know, the thing is that after all that running, after hammering that pitchfork down on the carriage wheel, I was getting warm again. I think I’m shivering now because I’m still so excited.”
“Excited, are you?” As a matter of fact, he was as well, the blood pumping madly through his veins, his head pounding, so filled with energy that he knew he could swim to Calais. But that would fade quickly. And Corrie, she’d been hanging on to the back of that carriage for a good three hours before they’d stopped. She was going to crash like a felled tree. He prayed she wouldn’t get ill.
“Not quite so excited as I was just a minute ago,” she said. “It’s odd, isn’t it, how powerful you feel?”
“Yes, it is, but it won’t last, Corrie. I don’t want you to get sick. Keep bundled up. Now, there’s nothing else to do, but walk.”
He stuffed both guns in his belt, took her hand, and off they went. They stayed inside the woods that bordered the narrow road. “They’re going to be looking for us, so that means we need to avoid the main road once we reach it. All we need is a town.”
“They’ll be expecting us to walk back toward London,” she said, and frowned. “They kidnapped you because they wanted to trade you for your father, James.”
“Yes, I imagine so. Unfortunately, they never spoke the name of the man who’d hired them. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the attempt on my father’s life. I should have before you heard it from others.”
“Yes, you should have told me. It’s not as if I’m some sort of stranger, James. Everyone was speaking of it.”
He stopped, faced her, and cupped her dirty face between his dirty hands. “Thank you for saving my hide. How did you know?”
“I saw the waiter hand you that scrap of paper. I know you very well, James. I saw immediately that it worried you, and so I followed you. I knew I couldn’t help you once they had thrown the blanket over you, so I waited until the carriage started up, then I jumped on the back.”
“You’ve always been an excellent tiger.”
“Yes.” He watched her fiddling with her hair. He could only marvel at her bravery. But she wouldn’t see it like that, not at all. She would simply say it was the only thing to be done and wouldn’t he have done the same thing as well? No, he would have gone after their throats, immediately. And maybe gotten himself killed.
He squeezed her dirty hand. “I was trying to figure out how to get off the rope around my ankles without Augie seeing me, and then I thought I heard something on the roof. Augie was already half-asleep and didn’t hear a thing. You gave me the time. That was clever of you. You’ve a good brain.”
She beamed. “Truth is, I nearly broke my leg getting on the roof. And you know that some of the planks on the roof are quite rotted through? I thought for a while there that I would crash through and land right on Augie’s lap.”
He laughed, then sobered very quickly. “I have some money so we’re not destitute. However, we both look like we’ve been in a fight. Try to think up a story to explain our condition.”
She shook her head, said quite seriously, “No, when we reach a farm, all we’ll have to do is make sure the wife gets a good look at you. Even with all that smoke and soot on your face, she’ll swoon and sigh and give you her husband’s food, and bed. If she looked beyond your beautiful face, she’ll get to your evening clothes. That will surely do the trick if your face hasn’t.”
“A bad jest, Corrie.”
“It wasn’t a jest, James. You just don’t realize, do you that-well, never mind. Now, a farmhouse, that’s just what we need. I don’t know what would happen if we had to walk into a village.”
They walked. Exactly twenty minutes later, they heard horses’ hooves coming toward them. James pulled her up and they stepped farther into the trees. They watched Augie, riding the lead horse, bareback, with a makeshift bridle, leading the second bay, carrying both Billy and Ben, a dirty bandage tied around Billy’s arm.
If he’d been alone, he would have tried to take one of the horses, but with Corrie present, he wasn’t about to take the chance of her getting hurt since she’d already taken too many chances. What if the roof had collapsed? What if the horse hadn’t obligingly crashed through the cottage door? What if-He was making himself quite mad. She’d survived and so had he. But no more, he didn’t think his heart could survive it.
She whispered against his cheek, “I think we can take them, James. You get Augie, who seems the most competent, and I’ll bring down Ben and Billy. Just look, they’re sliding all over that poor horse’s back. Let’s just scare them off.”
He could only stare at her. She was right. “No, it’s too dangerous.”
“Climbing up on that damned roof was more dangerous than this would be, not to mention riding in like a knight with a lance into that cottage. Give over, James. Be sensible.”
This from a girl who was wearing a ball gown in the middle of the night, on the side of a rutted road, with three bad men ready to slit her throat.
It was taken out of their hands. At that moment, a huge boom of thunder sounded. Lightning slashed down, once, twice. The horses reared, terrified, throwing all three men to the ground. Another boom of thunder, another streak of lightning and the horses were off, racing madly, right down the road, away from them.
Ben was moaning, holding his foot, weaving back and forth. “Damn ye, ye bloody bugger!”
“Well, me bloody ’orse threw me too,” Augie said, walking gingerly toward Ben and Billy.
“No, not the ’orse,” Ben yelled. “Billy’s the bloody bugger wot landed on me foot! I’m goin’ to carve yer gullet out fer ye, Billy!”
“Ye’ll not be able to catch me fer a good month, so shut yer trap. Besides, we was already wounded by that little chit who shouldn’t have been there, the good Lord knows. Maybe she were some sort of ghost come to torment us.”
“Ye’ve got a right big ’ole in yer brain,” said Augie in disgust. “The truth of it is that a little girl done brought us low. T’weren’t no ghost even though she was wearing that white dress.”
Billy said, “Don’t she know ’ow she’s supposed to garb ’erself? Coming after the three of us dressed like that, her shoulders white and bare as Ben’s ass when ’e’s in the bushes. Boggles the brain, it does.”
“Now that’s a thought,” Corrie whispered.
James was trying very hard not to laugh. They watched the three of them arguing in the middle of the narrow road. They watched until the skies opened up and rain flooded down.
It needed only this. James said, “Willicombe’s mother was a little late in her prediction. It was supposed to rain around midnight.”
“I can’t imagine Willicombe having a mother,” Corrie said, then winced when Ben cursed the rain and his foot blue. Billy joined in, cursing Corrie for the pitchfork in his arm. Augie stood there, hands on hips, watching his two companions in obvious disgust.
Since the leaves protected them a bit from the deluge, both were loathe to get out into the open. They stood another five minutes until the three men managed to hobble down the road.
“We’re all going in the same direction,” Corrie said. “Well, drat.”
“That settles that,” James said. “We’re going to angle back toward the coast. There’s bound to be a fishing village of some sort not too far from here.”
“All right. At least we won’t have to worry that those three buffoons will creep up on us. You know, James, we could get them now. What do you think?”
He shook his head. “Too much risk.” Then he stopped cold. “If we could get Augie, maybe we could make him tell us who paid him to kidnap me.”
Her eyes shone even as she was blinking furiously to keep from being blinded by the rain. “They certainly won’t be expecting us, now will they?”
Lightning struck again and they heard a man yell.
“Let’s go, Corrie. We certainly can’t get any wetter than we are now, well, not much more.”
They ran out of the woods and down the road after their villains, rain lashing against their faces, no moon now, only bloated black clouds. They could barely see the road ten feet ahead of them.
They came upon them quickly since Billy’s foot was evidently hurting him, and Augie and Ben had to support him, Ben with only one good arm.
They slowed, listening to the men cursing.
“I never heard that word, James. What does-”
“Be quiet. Don’t you ever say that word, you understand me?”
Corrie wiped her hand over her eyes and shoved her hair back from her face. “But it sounded like tit-”
“Be quiet. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”
Three minutes later, James moved quite close to the three, raised his gun, and fired directly at Augie’s arm. A shot and a yell and more cursing.
As James thought, Ben dropped Billy to the ground, and Augie didn’t know whether to grab his arm or draw his gun, and so he did both. The shot brought down a tree branch. Billy, hobbling, and Ben holding his arm, went for the underbrush.
They’d disabled all three of them.
“Drop the gun, Augie,” James called out, “or the next bullet will be through your head. I have two guns, you know, so don’t doubt me.”
“Young ’un! Is that really you?” Augie’s hand was protecting his eyes, desperately trying to see James through the heavy rain. “Why would you want to shoot ole Augie now? I ain’t done nothin’ really bad to ye-not even wot I was paid to do-I jest worried ye a bit, gave ye jest a bit of a tap.”
“Drop the gun, Augie, this is the last time I’ll tell you.”
Augie dropped the gun, although the chances were good that it had held only one bullet and was now quite empty. But better not to take any chances.
“Good. Now, Augie, I’ll not put a bullet in your head if you tell me the man’s name who hired the three of you to kidnap me.”
Augie, despite the rain, tugged on his ear, sent curses toward his feet, then sighed. “A man’s got to guard ’is reputation, lad. If I tells ye ’is name, me reputation will be in the dirt.”
“At least you’ll be alive.”
James aimed the gun at Augie’s head.
“No, ye can’t do that, can ye?-jest shoot me in the noggin’ like I was a bad man-well, niver ye mind about that. No, don’t shoot me. Well, damnation. Aw right, the bloke wot gave us the blunt, ’e said ’is name was Douglas Sherbrooke. Niver ’eard that name afore, so’s I can’t tell ye who the cove is. Now ye won’t shoot me, will ye, young ’un?”
Both James and Corrie gaped at him. Corrie said, “But that doesn’t make sense, James.”
“As a twisted jest, it makes perfect sense.”
“How old was this man, Augie?”
“A young ’un, jest like ye are, me lord. Hey, I heard that little gal’s voice. I wants to wallop that little gal’s arse but good. Ruined it all fer us, she did. Nearly burned down that lovely cottage and stuck that bloody pitchfork into Ben’s arm. Not a lady, she ain’t, a real disgrace to her folks, I’d say, going out like that without no chaperone, wearing white to make us think she were a ghost. As fer the ’orses, wot she did ain’t-”
“Stop whining, Augie. She got you fair and square. If you don’t think she’s a lady, you can call her my white knight,” James said.
“It’s a disgrace, it is, ’er doin that to three growed men. Meybe if she’d been me kid, I could o’ taught her how to nobble ye fine lords, nip groats right out of yer pockets, ye niver the wiser. Ye got guts, little gal, not much brain since ye rode that nag right into the cottage, but ye got guts, lots o’ guts.”
“Okay, Augie, the truth is that Corrie would make a horrible pickpocket
. It’s her face, you see. You know exactly what she’s thinking. She’d end up sitting beside you in gaol. Now, you can yell for Ben and Billy to come out of hiding and then the three of you can take yourselves off.”
“Yer a good lad, that’s wot I told me boys, now didn’t I?”
“I don’t know what you said, Augie, since one of your friends hit me over the head.”
“Well now, these things ’appen, these little puddles o’ mud in life.”
“Leave, Augie. Go away. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
Corrie called out, “How much did this Douglas Sherbrooke pay you, Augie?”
“Little gals shouldn’t concern themselves about men’s business, but it were a good ten pounds to take ye, and another thirty when I gives ye over to this Sherbrooke bloke.”
“I hope you haven’t spent the ten pounds,” Corrie said. “I wonder what this fellow will do to you when he discovers you’ve failed to deliver the goods?”
Augie groaned at that thought, then whistled for Billy and Ben.
Corrie, a lovely sneer on her face, and James, close to laughter, eased back into the woods, and watched the three men stagger back down the road.
“Now what?” Corrie said.
Lightning struck a tree branch. It fell, smoking, not three feet in front of them.
“Oh dear, is that some sort of bad omen, do you think?”
“I think it means that it’s best to get back toward London. Augie and his boys aren’t completely down, and they will lose out on thirty pounds and their reputations if they don’t deliver me. Let’s not take chances. You keep as warm as you can, Corrie. I don’t want you to get ill.”
“This night is surely a misery,” Corrie said, and pressed close to James as they began walking down the road in the opposite direction from the three villains.
She began whistling a ditty she’d learned from one of the Sherbrooke stable lads. James laughed, couldn’t help himself. He prayed she didn’t know the words. Oddly enough, he couldn’t think of another time when he’d laughed quite so much as he had on a night he firmly believed was going to be his last.