by Rebecca King
“He isn’t even around anymore,” she protested unconcernedly, waving to the empty street behind them. She knew because she had been looking for him with each step they had taken.
When he didn’t immediately reply, Rose rubbed her bruised stomach absently. It had settled now it wasn’t upside down being beaten by his shoulder, but she knew she was going to feel tender for some time to come. It was only when she felt the warm rush of his breath against her cheek that she turned to look at him and realised that he had crossed the distance between them and was now glaring threateningly at her.
Barnaby leaned toward her until his nose was mere inches from hers.
“It isn’t him you have to worry about now,” he growled. “Unless you know exactly where you are, and exactly how to get back, you are completely at my mercy. Now shut up. I swear, if you do or say anything without my permission I will damned well tie you up and hand-deliver you to that gunman. He will shoot you just to get some blood peace and quiet and I won’t blame him one bit.”
He slammed his mouth closed with a loud snap when he realised he was on the verge of shouting again. Heaving a deeply discontented sigh, Barnaby issued her with one final glare and hitched the carriage to the harness and began to secure the straps.
“I don’t know why you have to be so surly,” she said. “I haven’t been mean to you.”
“You kept hitting my backside,” Barnaby protested. “You jabbed your elbow into my spine, and you won’t shut up!”
“Well, you were dangling me over your shoulder like I was a lunch sack,” she argued.
Seething, Barnaby lifted a warning hand and placed a finger over his lips. He wondered if all women talked this much; this one certainly didn’t seem capable of being silent for more than a minute. At this rate, he would hand himself over to Chadwick just to be rid of her.
“What are you doing?” she gasped when she watched him lead the horse out of the stable. “You can’t steal the horse.”
“What do you think I have wasted our precious advantage on harnessing the bloody beast up for then? Should I wait for church on Sunday?” Barnaby challenged.
“I didn’t see what you were doing,” Rose replied weakly. She had been watching him and knew precisely what he had been doing. However, she hadn’t realised the implications until he began to lead the animal out of the small stable. “We can’t just steal a carriage. This belongs to somebody.”
“I am not stealing it,” Barnaby argued.
“Well, that’s what it looks like,” she protested. Her eyes widened further when he led the beast and carriage into the street and waved toward it. “You will not steal that carriage.”
“I warned you to shut up.”
“Or what?” she demanded. She placed her fists on her hips, daring him to do anything about what she now suspected were empty threats. The man was nothing more than an oaf. He grunted, swore, and threatened, but in all reality he was nothing more than a blustering buffoon. When he didn’t appear inclined to pay her any attention whatsoever, and continued to try to seal the carriage and horse, she glanced around the street in an attempt to try to find a way to stop him. She could call for help, but then that would alert Chadwick to where they were. Still, she had no intention of being arrested for helping anybody steal a carriage. Not even if was to leave the area while being chased by a deranged killer.
Barnaby heaved a sigh of relief that she had at least fallen quiet for the present. He hadn’t ever relished silence before. Now, he revelled in the quietude, not least because it gave him the time to think. Once in the carriage they would be sitting relatively high up and would be vulnerable, although not if they were moving at speed. They could get to the outskirts of town far faster than Chadwick could on foot. It was perfect for their purposes. If only he could get his nemesis to agree to sit on it for a while.
“I would have a better chance of building myself a bloody ark to get out of here, and using it,” he grumbled aloud.
Thankfully, the young woman seemed to have gotten the message that she wasn’t to speak unless it was essential. He would have been delighted by his success - if it wasn’t so darned quiet. Sensing that something was amiss, he glanced up.
His curse was vicious when he saw that the place where Rose had once stood was now empty.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Rose?” he whispered. He glanced around the yard. She wasn’t there. Withdrawing his gun, Barnaby cocked it and stepped around the cart so he could study the street.
“What the-?”
He stared in disbelief at the sight of the small termagant stomping her tiny feet down the street, her back ramrod straight, her small up-tilted nose pointed snootily at the stars. What she thought she was doing was beyond him. Unless she was going to beat Chadwick with her tongue she didn’t stand a chance against one of Sayers’ henchmen. It was like watching a lamb walking itself to slaughter. There was no earthly chance that any brief encounter was going to result in anything but bloodshed. Barnaby was half tempted to leave her to her own devices and send Chadwick commiserations if he captured her. But there was something about that spirited naivety that was compelling. He just couldn’t abandon her to her Fate. She deserved better than that.
He didn’t know how, or why, and it galled him to admit it, but she had very quickly started to grow on him. Alright, so she was a bit like a wart on the end of his nose at the moment, but she gave him something more than the dangers that surrounded them to think about. Not only that but secretively, deep down, if he was in his cups and too mindless to mind his words, he would briefly admit in a roundabout kind of way that he quite liked this argumentative, strangely spirited side to her. He could do without the sniping, incessant talking, and wilful defiance, but he admired the way she was determined to go her own way and fly in the face of reason. He couldn’t allow it to continue of course, but he admired it.
“God have mercy on my soul,” he muttered as he climbed aboard the carriage.
Knowing it was faster than chasing after her on foot, and better if they kept the transportation with them, Barnaby clicked the horse into a fast walk and went after her.
“I am not coming with you,” Rose snapped without breaking her stride when she saw the horse out of the corner of her eye. “I am not a thief.”
“I am not either,” Barnaby argued.
“Well, that carriage doesn’t belong to you, does it? In the eyes of the Law that means you have stolen it,” Rose reasoned.
“It isn’t stealing if I intend to ensure it is returned whence it came when I have finished with it,” Barnaby muttered in a conversational tone at odds with the desperate urge to flee that was currently surging through him. He glanced around the quiet street but, thankfully, couldn’t see Chadwick yet. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t appear at any given moment though.
“How do you intend to do that when you are planning to leave the area in the wretched thing?” Rose snorted disparagingly.
“I have the name of the street and can direct the person I leave these with to return them for me. I will pay them a few bob and send a bit to the owner to recompense him for the temporary loss of his carriage and any inconvenience it has caused,” Barnaby reasoned.
“I am not using it,” Rose persisted.
“Get on board,” Barnaby ordered. “We don’t have the time for this. The quicker we get out of here the safer we will be.”
“Where do you intend to take me?” Rose asked, one elegant brow lifted in snooty enquiry.
Barnaby sighed. He hated Fate sometimes. It couldn’t give him with some meek and feeble woman who would accede to his every order without protest. No, on this occasion, Fate was determined to have the last laugh and had landed him with the most argumentative, uncontrollable, and downright outspoken harridan known to mankind.
“Somewhere safer. Now get in,” Barnaby snapped impatiently.
She didn’t know it but Barnaby had been out on the balcony since before the ball had even started. He had known about C
hadwick’s meeting for several days and had selected his vantage point in the town carefully so he could see who the man had intended to meet. He hadn’t been able to get any closer to the coal yard to hear what was said, but had instead settled on the balcony to wait and see what happened. It had been essential that he discover who Chadwick’s contacts were so the Star Elite could arrest them later. What Barnaby hadn’t anticipated was for Chadwick to murder them.
Chadwick may not know it just yet but, as far as the Star Elite was now concerned, he was a hunted man. It was a little ironic at the moment that Chadwick was the one doing the hunting. However, that situation could be remedied just as soon as Barnaby had stashed his wall-flower tyrant out of sight, preferably protected by one of his colleagues rather than himself.
“What is your name?” Barnaby asked. He glanced about them and decided to allow the woman to vent a little of her discontent by continuing to march toward freedom. If that meant leaving her to stomp down the street in a huff then that was fine by him. At least she was quiet for now. It was a situation he knew wouldn’t last, but he was prepared to mollify her just a little if it meant securing her compliance in getting out of town.
“Rose Higginbotham,” she replied. Although she was aware of his scrutiny, Rose refused to look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze forward and continued to walk. Where she was going she had no idea, but she just couldn’t bring herself to get onto that carriage with him. Not only would it be conceding defeat, but she couldn’t embark on a journey just anywhere with this man. Heaven only knew where she would end up. He was far too distracting for her to spend any more time with than was necessary. She suspected he could charm anybody with a single smile if he put his mind to it. Unfortunately, he seemed to have an acute disliking for Rose, and found her more irritating than attractive. It made Rose more determined than ever to shake him off.
When she reached the end of the road, she quickly stepped in front of the carriage and crossed the road.
“You can stop following me, you know,” she suggested hopefully when he caught up with her.
“You know I can’t do that,” Barnaby replied. He waited a couple of more minutes until it was evident that she was slowing her pace a little. “Are you ready to get on board now?”
“I told you I am not going to be involved in stealing anything from anyone,” Rose bit out through clenched teeth.
Before Barnaby could reply, a darkened shadow suddenly jumped out in front of her. For the second time that night her scream was stifled by a hard hand clamped over her mouth. This time, though, it wasn’t Barnaby, it was Chadwick. Rose fought hard by kicking out wildly with her legs. She twisted and writhed in a valiant attempt to break free. Chadwick grunted and staggered as he tried to drag her toward the alley and failed miserably. His curse was blistering when Barnaby took him down in a flying tackle.
“Get onto the carriage,” Barnaby bellowed as he slammed a beefy fist into Chadwick’s face. He didn’t waste the time to make sure she was doing as instructed and began to pummel the man beneath him so he couldn’t pose any further problem to them.
Rose watched in horror as Chadwick landed several blows on Barnaby that forced him to move away. When he did, Chadwick slammed a fist into the side of Barnaby’s jaw so hard that his teeth smashed together. Barnaby growled and threw several punches back. When he saw Chadwick reach for his gun, Barnaby redoubled his efforts to disarm the man and the fight swiftly turned brutal.
Rose saw the flash of the wicked looking weapon beneath Chadwick’s jacket, and knew she had to do something before Barnaby was shot. Rummaging around in the back off the carriage, her hand brushed against a long metal bar with a bend at the end. She had no idea what it was for but it was heavy enough to suit her purposes. Jumping off the carriage she charged toward Chadwick, hefted the bar high above her head and brought it crashing down on the back of his head with all of her might. He fell to the ground without a murmur.
“Thank you,” Barnaby gasped as he drew in several deep breaths of air. Glaring at the back of the man’s head, Barnaby pushed to his feet and took a moment to catch his breath.
When he looked at Rose, he realised then just how terrified she was. Without a murmur, though, she had risen to the challenge and just saved both of their lives. He didn’t give a second thought to what he did; he hauled her against him and simply held her.
“Are you alright?” he murmured as he leaned back to look closely at her.
Rose nodded toward Chadwick. “Should we take him to the magistrate?” She didn’t want to touch him, or stay around him any longer than was necessary, but if they had to take him to the magistrate then she would prefer to do it while the evil man was unconscious.
“Not at the moment. We still need to get out of here, Rose. He has company,” Barnaby murmured.
When she looked at him questioningly her gaze immediately fell to the bruises she could see on his neck and face. “He has hurt you.”
Barnaby touched several sore spots. “It is fine,” he dismissed.
“Have I killed him?” She hated to ask but couldn’t shy away from the possibility. There was a very real chance that she might be the one who went to gaol if she had. The thought of that made her want to cry.
“No. He is unconscious,” Barnaby assured her. “Look, we need to get out of here.” He glanced up and down the street and swore when he realised they were no longer alone.
“Who are they?” Rose whispered as she eyed the four vicious looking thugs now lined up along the end of the street blocking their exit.
“Chadwick’s men,” Barnaby sighed.
“What do we do?” Rose whispered, stepping back nervously when the men began to move toward them.
“We need to leave the area,” Barnaby reported. He looked at the heavy iron she held. “Keep hold of that and don’t be afraid to use it again.”
Rose nodded without hesitation. She would if she had to.
“Damn it, there are more of them,” Barnaby murmured bitterly. He nodded to the new group of men now standing at the opposite end of the street.
“We are surrounded,” she whispered in horror. “What do we do now?”
Barnaby knew they were going to have to fight their way out of this situation, and needed to do so before Chadwick woke up and gave his men orders to kill them.
“I am going to have to drive fast to get us out of here,” Barnaby whispered. “You need to hang on and hit out at anybody who tries to clamber on board. Keep them off us, Rose.”
Rose nodded and readily climbed aboard the waiting carriage. “What do we do with him?” She nodded toward Chadwick who had yet to even twitch.
“Leave him. They won’t allow us to leave the street with him if we do try to take him. Besides,” Barnaby said as he hauled himself onto the seat beside her. “We will waste too much time trying to manhandle is worthless carcass. Let the magistrate deal with him if he is still here in the morning. Hang on.”
Before Rose could understand what he intended, Barnaby slapped the horse hard on the rump with the reins. Jerking in shock, the animal lunged into action and began to gallop wildly down the street.
Rose gasped when the clatter of the horses’ hooves on the cobbles was accompanied by several popping noises behind them. She watched in horror as the men a few yards in of them lifted their guns too.
“Get down!” Barnaby ordered, hunkering over the reins. Tugging hard, he flicked the reins to keep the horse going and ploughed through the line of men trying to shoot at them.
Rose kept her eyes open, but they were going too fast for anyone to even get near the carriage. She squealed when they rounded the corner at the end of the road so quickly that the carriage tipped onto two wheels. When she opened her eyes all she could see was the cobbled street rushing past at terrifying speed.
“We are going to be killed,” she gasped as the carriage bounced along and righted itself.
“Not yet,” Barnaby bit out through clenched teeth. “Not tonight.”
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br /> The wind dragged the pins out of her hair which tumbled free in a wild abandon about her shoulders, but she was oblivious to everything apart from the mild annoyance caused by having to flick the heavy tresses out of her eyes. She daren’t let go of the seat for long for fear of falling off it and ending up beneath the wildly spinning wheels.
“Will you slow down, for Heaven’s sake? We are going to end up dead, and it won’t be Chadwick’s fault,” she snapped. Her only response was a loud bang behind her followed by an explosion of brick dust off the house they flashed past.
“Stay down,” Barnaby ordered.
“Was that gunfire?” Rose gasped in horror. She tried to glance behind them to see where the gunman was but everything was such a blur that she could see nothing.
Barnaby swore loudly, grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her down onto the seat when she didn’t do as she was told.
“Sit still and stay down.” He couldn’t hold her head down, and cursed when she immediately popped back up again. He gave her a filthy glare.
“They are shooting at us,” she cried in outrage when another shower of brick dust fell over them.
Barnaby grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her down again. “Stay there,” he snarled in a fit of rate that was uncharacteristic.
Rose suddenly found her face pressed against his thigh, inches from his manly parts.
“Look, if this is all some sort of sick joke, I think you must stop now,” Rose protested as she pushed herself upright, her cheeks flushed. “Why do I need to stay down? You are sitting upright.”
Ignoring her, Barnaby glanced over his shoulder at the road behind them as they swung around the next corner. Chadwick’s men were racing after them on foot and were doing a far too credible job for comfort. He hadn’t put as much distance between them as he had hoped and unless he could find another way of getting them out of the area they were going to get caught.