The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Linfield, Emma

  “You didn't think any of this was going to work, did you, Miss Benson?” Cornelius cocked his head.

  “Ha! Shoot her dead!” Riphook cackled from his boat. “Troubling wench! Shoot her dead!”

  A gunshot cracked out from the blocks just North of the pier.

  “Looks like my boys are havin' a bit of fun,” Riphook jeered.

  Where the devil is Kenneth?

  * * *

  Kenneth followed the sound of what appeared to be some sort of confrontation. Is that Winchester's voice? Someone was arguing.

  Kenneth rounded a corner to find two large men blockading a carriage which he recognized to belong to Judge Roberts. Kenneth's heart soared when he saw the coach, knowing that the plan would work.

  But these two men that stood between him and the carriage presented a different problem. They were tough, one could tell by the way they carried themselves in combination with the visible scars and tattoos that accompanied a long time at sea.

  They were big, brawling, seaman types, and they argued menacingly with the Marquess through the carriage window.

  “I tell you again, gentlemen.” the Marquess sounded stressed and fearful. “I am here with His Honorable Magistrate Roberts, and you are impeding a Royal investigation, good sirs! Now if you do not make clear the way, I shall be forced to take further action!”

  Good for him, taking a stand. It is good to see so much life in Winchester, life besides parties, that is.

  “And I'm tellin' you again.” the gruff thug shot back. “Road's closed. Whole pier's closed. Now you all best get this out of here before we have to take further action.” The thugs chuckled to each other, and Kenneth could see the Marquess growing desperate.

  “Gentlemen.” Kenneth announced, stepping out of the shadows into the center of the street. “What seemed to be the issue?”

  “Worthington!” the Marquess exclaimed, his face growing bright.

  “Oy!” the first thug shouted. “He's the bloke the doc told Rip 'bout.”

  “Idiot!” the second shouted back. “Now we got to kill 'em all.”

  “So, you two gentlemen are associates of Riphook?” Kenneth casually unpinned his riding jacket, letting it fall to the street beneath him. The moonlight danced off the handle of his pistol.

  “Poor, dumb, rich man.” the first thug snarled, brandishing a knife. “I bet Rip'd like to gut you like he did that traitor Nash, but it looks like we gon' get the pleasure all ourselves.”

  “Nash is dead?” Kenneth's jaw hardened and his hand went to his weapon. The air was still and bitter; it tasted of humanities cruel tendrils slunk across the fire.

  “Dead as door nails.” the first thug spat, and lunged.

  Kenneth let the pistol belt fall from his shoulder as he sidestepped and fired with uncanny speed, sending the first thug spiraling off, clutching at his side.

  The second came at Kenneth, screaming out in a guttural tone. Kenneth moved to block his first strike, but the man hit with such power that the now empty pistol went flying from his hands, clattering against the cobblestones.

  Then they were at blows, ducking left and right, sweeping out and stepping back. The man was strong, much stronger than Kenneth, and so he tried to rely on his speed, dancing just out of reach as this lumbering giant swung again and again, forcing him backwards.

  I cannot hold my ground against him.

  Crack! The brute connected a solid strike, and Kenneth spun a full circle around before stumbling backwards. Although he had only spun round the once, the world was still moving all around him when he tripped up with his back against a brick wall.

  “Winchester!” he shouted, ducking another overhead jab. “The pistol!”

  Winchester had heard him, but so had the first of Riphook's thugs, who now looked longingly to the firearm from his place on the ground, clutching his abdomen.

  Kenneth had no time to think on the Marquess. He only had to keep dodging these goliath's punches. He was slow, but when he connected, Kenneth's world was utterly rocked.

  I cannot keep at this forever.

  “Getting tired?” the thug crackled, swinging his fists again and forcing Kenneth to duck under him and swing about. Kenneth landed two good blows to his side before stepping out of range of his great, sweeping, club of a hand.

  “Are you?” Kenneth jeered back. I am growing tired, and I fear he is not at all.

  From the corner of his eye, Kenneth saw the Marquess clambering down from the coach. The driver had leaped down from the roof after the pistol shot and tore off down the street the way they had come.

  The Marquess moved for the discarded pistol and the bag of shot. The bag he reached first.

  An explosion of bells and lights erupted behind Kenneth's ears and eyes as the thug connected another strike. It sent him reeling to the floor, and he crawled wildly away from the thug, trying to stand up.

  “Get off you devil!” he heard the Marquess shouting and saw that he and the first thug were struggling over the pistol.

  “I've got you now!” the second grabbed Kenneth up by the back of his shirt and hauled him against the wall, throwing a blow into his stomach.

  “Villain!” Winchester could be heard shouting, followed by the crack of something striking hard.

  Kenneth's vision was terribly blurry, and his ears popped and fluctuated all sorts of strange rings and pops as another strike connected with his ribs.

  “Worthington!” the Marquess shouted. He brandished the loaded pistol.

  Come on lad, he could hear his commander from the war, urging the battalion over the rise at Talavera. The enemy is there! And they wait for no man! For king and country! And whatever else it is you bloody well care about! On and up lads! Give me that bloody hill! Then as the company charged over that battle-torn valley, the bullets whipping by all around them and peppering holes in their glorious standards, Kenneth saw Leah's great green eyes urging him onwards, and he knew that he had to survive. He had to win.

  The thug swung again, and let his body go limp, dropping faster as dead weight than the thug's fist could travel. He tucked, and rolled beneath the giant's legs, popping up behind him.

  The Marquess tossed the pistol, the thug spun about, Kenneth caught the gun, and fired.

  The thug came crashing down, and the street was suddenly still again.

  “Good Lord!” Winchester huffed, catching his breath.

  “You saved my life.” Kenneth wheezed.

  “Your Grace?” Judge Roberts was timidly sticking his head out of the coach. “What on earth–”

  “Magistrate Roberts.” Kenneth gleamed with delight through his bludgeoned face. “I thank you so much for joining us. If you would excuse the interruption, I think we may yet be in time to catch the criminals we mean to.”

  “Your Grace, I...” the Judge seemed lost for words.

  “No time to waste.” Kenneth climbed up to the driver's seat and took hold of the ribbons. “Bloody good hit, Winchester,” Kenneth remarked, eyeing the unconscious thug that the Marquess had been struggling with. “Never knew you had it in you.”

  “Nor did I.” the Marquess glowed.

  “Climb aboard then.” Kenneth reloaded his pistol. “The night's work is only beginning.”

  * * *

  Leah was still standing at gunpoint. Riphook had climbed out of the boat and stood beside Cornelius. From his waistband he pulled a long, frightening knife.

  “You know what I did before I came here, Leah?” Riphook taunted, clicking his tongue. “I killed that little brat Nash.”

  “You're lying.” Leah could feel despair creeping in around the edges, but she didn't dare let herself surrender to it. She had to remain strong until Kenneth arrived with the Judge. It was almost over.

  “I 'aint.” Riphook glared. “Right about now my two boys are dealing with that meddling lovebird of yours. Then Cornelius will inherit everything, and nobody will know the truth. You've failed, little Leah, a good effort surely, but you failed.
”

  “I'm not so sure.” Leah could hear a commotion welling up behind her.

  “What the devil?” Cornelius squinted past her.

  A luxurious carriage was barreling down the pier with Kenneth on the ribbons.

  “Whoa!” Kenneth shouted, “Easy!” he reined in the horses, clobbering against the wooden pier, tearing deep ruts in the planks. The carriage came to a rocky halt and Kenneth scrambled down.

  “It is over Uncle! Judge Roberts is here!”

  “Kenneth, what happened to you?” Cornelius raised his eyebrow. Leah glanced at him and saw that he had been badly beaten. Hold on a bit longer, Kenneth, just a bit longer.

  “Stop right there, Kenneth.” Cornelius sighed. “Stop or I will shoot her.”

  Kenneth did indeed stop, but the carriage door opened and down came the Marquess and Judge Roberts.

  “Lord Wilson.” Judge Roberts called out. “I have drawn a Royal Warrant for the arrest of both you, and this, Riphook, here, beside you.”

  “I can appreciate your position, Your Honor.” Cornelius gave half a smile towards the magistrate. “But tonight will not be going the way you wish. My associate and I will be leaving now, and we will be taking Miss Benson with us. Anyone who says otherwise will be shot. Do we have an understanding?”

  “You are not going to get away with this, Uncle.” Kenneth snarled, but he could not go any closer for fear of Leah's life.

  “On the contrary.” Cornelius smiled. “Shall we, Riphook?”

  “You botched this ripe and proper.” Riphook snorted. “Let's get out of here.”

  “Stop!” Kenneth cried out, desperately. Leah could tell he was likely to make a hasty reaction. Just wait a bit longer, sweet Kenneth, please.

  “You disappoint me Kenneth!” Cornelius cried out, stepping backwards towards the boat. “You were meant to be my successor. This city would have been yours! How could you throw that away?”

  “You betrayed me, Uncle.” Kenneth sobbed out. “You betrayed all of us.”

  “Farewell Kenneth.” Cornelius moaned. “We will never meet again. Come, Leah, come now or I'll shoot.”

  “I'm not going anywhere.” Leah smiled as she heard the one o'clock bell ring out. Just in time. “And neither are you.”

  “What's she on about?” Riphook grunted, looking up from the loose lines that sashed his skiff to the dock.

  “I–” Cornelius was no doubt about to provide some smart remark, but he simply opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked confused, as if he couldn't make sense of anything at all that was happening.

  Then he jerked back, his body going rigid and his face draining pale.

  “What magic is this?” Riphook hissed out.

  Everyone watched in utter disbelief as Cornelius began to spasm, then collapse, casting aside his pistol. He flailed on the pier until he was still, and very clearly dead.

  “Oh blast it.” Riphook turned to make a hasty retreat in his boat, now free from the dock.

  “Stop him!” Leah shouted, sprinting towards the pistol, but it was too late. Riphook was over the side and into his craft and pulling hard into the river.

  Kenneth limped up beside her on the edge of the pier.

  “I can hit him.” Kenneth said, raising up his pistol.

  “Wait.” Leah put her hand on his arm. “Look.”

  Then a mighty bellowing cry shook out from the river, and all on the pier squinted through the glare of moonlight to see.

  “Riphook!” Digby's booming voice carried out over the water. “I've come for you, Riphook!”

  Riphook seemed to pull harder and harder on his little oars, but up out of the water came Digby, who had been swimming from the other side against the mighty current with his hulking muscles.

  “No!” Riphook screamed out, but the boat was overturned, and his glittering knife flew from his hand and sank into the river.

  They watched in silence from the dock's edge as Digby seized Riphook in one of his might hands while treading water and knocked him senseless with one strong blow from his other. Then, seemingly effortlessly, the drenched titan hauled Riphook's unconscious body to shore.

  They bound Riphook and sashed him to the roof of Judge Robert's carriage, and put Cornelius's body beside him.

  “What could have caused him to collapse as he did?” Kenneth said as they lashed him in place. “I don't understand.”

  Leah knew she had to make her confession. She would never be able to speak to Kenneth again in good faith if she did not tell him now, but she had to wait for the magistrate to clear out.

  “I shall go directly to goal.” Judge Roberts said. “Your Grace, My Lord, My Lady.” he paused when he looked to Digby. “Good sir, you have all done a great service to your country tonight. I promise you that it shall not be forgotten.”

  “I shall travel with you.” the Marquess said. “For I think I have had my share of adventure for the evening.” He was clearly distraught and coursing with adrenaline and was likely unfamiliar with the sensation and thus thoroughly out of his element. He did well for a fat rich man, Leah chuckled a bit.

  “Both of you, I thank you.” Kenneth wheezed, sinking down to sit on a crate. “From the bottom of my heart.”

  “And I.” Leah said softly. “You have given me a new life.”

  “New life fer London.” Digby spoke up, and Judge Roberts nodded respectfully towards the comment.

  “I shall see it so.” He nodded sternly. The Marquess clambered up to sit with the Judge Roberts on the driving bench – something that was no doubt unfamiliar to them. “Your Grace?” he mentioned as they were turning the carriage about.

  “Yes, Your Honor?” Kenneth smiled up at the Judge. “Perhaps you should take yourself to a doctor. Consider it a court order.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Kenneth grinned as one of his eyes swelled completely shut. “I shall.”

  The Judge's carriage turned away and began to clop down the docks. Leah could hear the Judge say something to the Marquess along the lines of, “I haven't handled the ribbons since I was a lad, oh my!” and Leah gave a small laugh to see them off.

  Watching Riphook and Cornelius roll away atop the carriage, Leah felt the largest of weights removed from her conscious. She was free from all the tyranny that had haunted her entire life. It was a strange sort of happiness that welled up within her; it was a strong, beautiful confidence that she could now finally be allowed to govern herself entirely.

  “It's done.” Leah whispered, and Kenneth turned his head to hear her.

  “It is, at last.”

  “Digby,” Leah started, tearing up as she looked to the hulking hero of the day. “I am so sorry.”

  “What happens to Rip now?” Digby asked. His voice was somber and hollow.

  “He will be tried.” Kenneth grunted, gingerly touching his side. “And I do believe he will be found guilty of a great many things. Then they will hang him.”

  “Then I ain't sorry.” Digby crossed his arms in firm resolution. “That's what Nash wanted. He got it.”

  “That he did.” Kenneth nodded in agreement.

  “He mustn't be forgotten.” Leah took Kenneth's hand.

  “He shan't be.” Kenneth answered.

  “I must go see to him now.” Digby said sadly, turning to leave.

  “I shall pay for the burial.” Kenneth said. “Wherever he would have liked.”

  “Westminster Cemetery.” Leah said. Digby nodded in agreement, wiping a tear from his eye.

  “Very well.” Kenneth limped into a standing position. “I shall see you soon, Digby.” and he reached out his hand. Digby shook it and nodded, then Leah threw her arms around him in a great embrace. After they had said their goodbyes, Digby turned off and went away into the night.

  “It's a beautiful night.” Leah said after the air had settled again and they were alone on the pier.

  “It is, a brilliant moon.” Kenneth remarked, resting his injured head on her shoulder.

 
“Kenneth.” Leah bit her lip. “I have something to tell you.”

  “What is it?” he tilted up to her.

  “I killed Cornelius.”

  “What do you mean?” He seemed startled and confused. “He just collapsed.”

  “I poisoned him.” Leah admitted, holding up the small empty vial of poison that she had confiscated from the good Dr. Fowler. “When I poured the wine.”