Lies and Misdemeanours

by Rebecca King

  In spite of the tension that reverberated through him, he casually propped his shoulders against the wall, tugged his hat low to cover his face, and waited.

  Being in Derby felt a little like putting his neck in the hangman’s noose, but he had to risk it. The thought of having to sit at Afferley, and wait for his colleagues to return was something he couldn’t even think about. Hetty needed him; and he had to be there for her.

  Thankfully, his patience was rewarded when the women appeared on the path next to him.

  Charlie pushed away from the wall and followed them across the road. He kept his distance until they were well away from the alley. As he passed it, he glanced down the narrow gap, and saw the jailers heading toward them at a half-run. A surge of jubilance swept through him when their progress was temporarily halted by the sudden appearance of an elderly woman who had come out of her yard to see what all the fuss was about.

  Determined that Hetty wouldn’t escape him this time, Charlie tugged the back of what he fervently hoped was her shawl, and watched with relief when she gasped and spun around.

  “Hello,” he smiled. In spite of the dangers of their current situation he couldn’t prevent the grin that broke out on his face as he watched stunned disbelief on her face. He felt strangely humbled at the look of sheer joy that swept over her as soon as she saw him.

  The urge to sweep her into a hug was strong, but he daren’t – not yet. Danger was too close.

  “Charlie?” She whispered. “Charlie? You are safe.”

  “Come on.” He didn’t bother to give her the chance to say anything else. He grabbed her hand and practically dragged her down the busy road.

  Mabel opened her mouth to speak only to close it again when Charlie threw her a warning look. His hand in the small of her back propelled her ahead of him. While ushering Mabel before him as fast as she could go, he dragged Hetty’s shawl off her shoulders, and threw an arm around her to pull her against his side. He shoved her shawl at Mabel, and ordered her to hide it beneath hers.

  “Change your appearance a bit,” he growled darkly.

  Mabel didn’t object, and immediately twirled the two shawls together to make a kaleidoscope of colour before she dragged them around her ample waist.

  Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest. “Keep walking straight ahead. Steady pace. Don’t stop for anything. Turn right at the top of this road. We are going to head back toward the outskirts of town.”

  “You took an incredible risk coming here,” Hetty warned in a voice that was barely a whisper. “Where is everyone?”

  “They are around here somewhere,” he sighed. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a strange noise behind them.

  Charlie risked a quick look back, and let out volley of curses that would have blistered the ladies’ ears, if they hadn’t been so darned scared at the sight of the now large group of men pelting down the road after them.

  “Go,” he ordered. “Go.”

  He pushed Mabel ahead of him firmly in an attempt to get her to quicken her pace. The older woman suddenly began to run, but was nowhere near as fast as the jailers.

  He knew that it was inevitable that the jailers were going to catch up with them within seconds if he couldn’t think of anything to get them out of their current predicament. He couldn’t leave her behind but, at the rate they were going, capture was inevitable.

  “Mabel,” Barnaby called casually from his position in the shadows to the left of them.

  “Oh, thank you Lord,” Mabel whispered fervently as she spied Barnaby, holding out a cloak for her.

  Before she could say anything else, Charlie pushed her toward his colleague, and she was immediately encased in the lengthy folds of the huge cloak. With the hood pulled up, the old woman simply vanished.

  Charlie slowed his pace long enough to nod to Joshua, who was waiting with two horses to lead the old woman to safety. Satisfied that at least one woman was safe, Charlie gave Hetty a measured look.

  He frowned and turned his head to see what she was staring at. His curse was bitter when he spotted Marcus, further down the road, locked in a raging argument with a farmer whose cart was effectively blocking the road.

  “Charlie,” Joseph whispered. “Take the right, third house to the left.”

  Charlie opened his mouth to speak but Joseph had already nudged his horse into a trot. Thankfully, Barnaby and Mabel had vanished.

  “They have gone,” Hetty whispered in astonishment. She watched the three riders, whom she knew to be Barnaby, Mabel and Joshua, walk slowly down the road as though they didn’t have a care in the world. If she didn’t know it was them, she would not have given them a second glance.

  It was a wonderful relief to know that her friend was free at last. Now that she didn’t have the added responsibility for someone else’s welfare to worry about, she was free to fret about her own – and Charlie’s. His welfare was more important than hers because she knew that if Meldrew got his hands on Charlie a second time, there would be no hope of escape.

  “Come on,” Charlie urged, and guided her to the house Joseph had pointed to.

  They hurried in that direction; aware that Marcus’ argument with the farmer had grown considerably louder, to the point that Charlie wondered if his colleague was going to start throwing punches. A grin slid over Charlie’s face when Marcus suddenly looked knowingly at him before he returned to the argument and, once again, increased the volume to a dull roar.

  The diversion appeared to work because the jailers slowed their run to a steady walk as they studied the men, and assessed the chances of a brawl starting. It was enough. Charlie put one hand in the small of Hetty’s back and hurried her down the side road.

  “What are we going to do?” Hetty cried, oblivious to the machinations of the Star Elite.

  Charlie grinned at her, apparently completely unperturbed by their predicament.

  “Look.” He nodded to the left of them.

  About half-way down the lane, inside a small courtyard, were two saddled horses, ready and waiting to take them to safety. Just to the side of them were two riders; Brendan and Luke, who were cloaked, already mounted, and ready to run.

  Hetty was amazed when Brendan and Luke grinned at Charlie, winked at Hetty, then tugged their hoods higher before they thundered out of the yard. Charlie quickly closed the doors behind them and slid the bolt across for good measure.

  The speed in which they raced down the road immediately drew a loud blast of a whistle from the jailers who, sensing their quarry, began to shout orders as they tried to give chase on foot.

  Pandemonium on the other side of the gates reigned supreme for several moments, until the jailers realised that they were hopelessly outmatched.

  “It’s alright,” Charlie assured her as they listened to the jailers ordering everyone to fetch the horses. “Just put this on.” He dragged the large cloak off the saddle of one of the horses and draped it carefully over her shoulders. He tugged the hood up over her tell-tale hair.

  When she turned to mount the horse, he stopped her.

  “It will be alright. Just stay close to me,” he pleaded quietly. He placed a tender kiss on her lips and rested his forehead against hers. “Trust me on this, Hetty. I won’t let you down.”

  Hetty nodded. Her fingers clung to the soft material of his shirt while they listened to the sound of men running toward them. Her heart hammered loudly in her throat, and she heaved a sigh of relief when Charlie’s warm palm settled over her clenched fist.

  “Trust me,” he mouthed.

  She clung to his strength, and waited for the inevitable. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but didn’t know where to start. She couldn’t focus her mind on anything other than the horrifying possibility that at any moment the gate was going to slam open, the yard they were in would be swamped full of jailers, and Charlie was going to be dragged off to his death.

  A sigh of relief swept through both of them when the footsteps thundered past w
ithout stopping.

  “Oh, thank you Lord,” Hetty whispered as the noise receded and peace was restored once more.

  Charlie stared at her beautiful face. The urge to kiss her was strong, but the need to get out of there was stronger. He knew that the passion that shimmered between them would be allowed to surface later, once they had reached safety, and could talk about the future he knew now that they were going to share – together.

  “I don’t know about you, darling,” he whispered. “But I really don’t want to wait around to see if they are going to come back.”

  “Me either,” she replied. She offered him a quivering smile that failed to meet her eyes. She tried to turn her gaze away only for him to place a fingertip beneath her chin, and tip her face up so that he could look into her eyes.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Let’s get out of here,” she sighed. “Please?”

  “Good idea,” he murmured. He was aware that she had evaded his question, and suspected that she was far from alright, but wanted her to know that he was worried about her. Rather than challenge her, he nodded toward the horses. “I hope you can ride.”

  Thankfully she nodded. He quickly lifted her into the saddle and quickly mounted the second horse.

  With the calls from the jailers disappearing after Brendan and Luke, Charlie looked at Hetty.

  “Your mare should follow my horse. Whatever you do, just keep riding. Follow me and don’t stop. If anything happens, don’t stop to help me. I can get myself out of here. It is imperative that you do the same.” He patted the gun on his hip. “Whatever you think you hear. Whatever you think might be happening. Just focus on staying out of their clutches, Hetty.”

  Hetty nodded but didn’t speak. She had no intention of abandoning him. Not now; not after everything they had been through.

  He seemed to realise this. “Promise me now,” he demanded. He refused to leave the yard until he had her devout promise.

  “I promise,” she replied reluctantly.

  He studied her for a moment and considered whether to argue with her. For some strange reason, although she had said the words he wanted to hear, he rather suspected that she had just lied to him.

  “Come on then. Our challenge awaits us,” he declared with an unrepentant grin.

  He leaned forward in his saddle and slid the bolt back. The door swung silently open. They tore out of the courtyard, and raced toward the outskirts of town as though the hounds from Hell were right behind them.

  In some ways, in spite of the fact that it was inevitable they would be seen, it was a relief to finally be on their way toward freedom.

  “We are going to take a winding route away from here,” Charlie called once they reached the outskirts of town. “Then we are going to head to the safe house.”

  He glanced across at her wind-flushed cheeks and the long, flowing strands of silken hair that had broken free of the tight bun tucked in the nape of her neck, and felt his heart lurch.

  She looked utterly glorious with her hair cascading out behind her. Like a slender Boudicca leading her army to battle. His heart swelled with pride at her strength, and calmness in the face of crisis; her bravery and determination to do what was right, whatever the cost to herself.

  Suddenly, his horse stumbled. The sudden jolt of it beneath him forced him to turn his attention back to the matter at hand.

  It was then that his gaze was drawn to movement on the horizon behind them.

  “Damn it all,” he cursed at the sight of the ten or so jailers teeming out of the side road after them.

  He studied their surroundings, but couldn’t see anyone ahead of them just yet. He had no idea where Luke and Brendan were, but suspected that they had left the area completely by now given the speed they were riding. He could only hope that the rest of the jailers were still chasing them.

  “We are going to get cut off,” Hetty cried as she glanced behind her and saw what had brought the worried to his eyes.

  The heavy thundering of the horse’s hooves on the hard track was recklessly thrilling, and called to a wildness that seemed to be hidden deep inside her that she had never realised even existed. For one heady moment, she wanted to shout aloud with sheer enthusiastic joy of being free, but then the darkness of their serious situation stole it away again, and replaced it with fear and worry.

  What have you done? She asked herself as she glanced behind again.

  A brief wave of hopeless desperation swept through her when she started to count the number of jailers, but lost count after eight.

  If she got caught, especially with Charlie, she wouldn’t need to worry about having to watch his execution for crimes he didn’t commit; she would be hung by the noose right next to his.

  “What do we do?” she called when they turned down one road and into another, but the jailers continued their dogged pursuit. “We are going to get ambushed.”

  “No we aren’t, darling,” Charlie argued. “Not while I have breath in my body.” He spoke through gritted teeth. His beautiful grey eyes were cold and hard. His mind raced as he plotted the route they were going to take and, in that moment, he was a total stranger to Hetty.

  The thought that he was her husband left her feeling decidedly thrilled, at the same time as a little nervous. He was handsome, fierce, strong yet worryingly tender at times. He was an enigma still, but she had no hesitation in placing her life in his hands.

  She had no idea how long they ran for. The horses began to grow tired but they continued to push them on, and raced through the countryside at breakneck speed. Field after field passed in a blur but, unfortunately, each time Hetty looked behind them, the jailers were still there.

  “They just aren’t giving up,” she cried desperately when her horse slowed to a trot and refused to canter again, no matter how much she urged it to move.

  “See if you can keep the horse going for a bit longer. There are hills up ahead. We can lose them in the trees. We need to change horses. These can’t keep running like this,” Charlie replied distractedly.

  While he was fairly certain that Luke and Brendan had been chased, and had most probably evaded capture given how well they rode, there were still too many jailers after him and Hetty.

  It made Charlie wonder if Meldrew had already brought in reinforcements overnight.

  The thought made him mentally curse the crooked magistrate for his sheer bloody mindedness. If the man had appeared in front of Charlie right there and then, he would have no compunction against shooting him dead where he stood.

  Meldrew was a criminal; nothing more, nothing less, and he should be the one being chased through the bloody countryside by half of sodding Derbyshire.

  His fury was raw, and enough to fuel his determination to keep both him and Hetty safe. At least he now had Hetty beside him where he could keep a close, personal eye on her. Her presence beside him was enough to remove at least half of the worry that had plagued him since yesterday. The other half – getting to safety – he could practically taste.

  The jailers had faded into the distance but she knew, without bothering to stop and study the area more closely, that they were not too far away.

  “Why have the jailers pulled back?” Hetty called when she glanced back only to find them considerably further away. “Are we running into an ambush?”

  She studied the empty landscape. It was difficult to tell for certain. There was simply nobody around. It felt as if everyone had suddenly vanished, and she and Charlie were the only ones in the country.

  There were no farm buildings; no carriages; not even a farmer leading his cattle to market; absolutely nothing. It was more than a little disconcerting.

  “There is a small village over that hill,” Charlie gasped. “It isn’t much, but we should be able to change the horses at a coaching inn, if we can find one. We have to go this way first though, then we can double back so that we –”

  “We are not doubling back,” Hetty declared firmly. She reined her horse
into a trot and pulled up alongside him. “I will not double back, and risk being caught by those jailers. We don’t double back. We keep going. Our horses are tired, but so will theirs be. It’s foolish to keep pushing them at the rate we are; we have to slow down and let the horses catch their breaths. Whatever we do, we are most definitely not turning back on ourselves.”

  Charlie lifted his brows and looked at her. The fierce glint of anger in her eyes warmed him, and he found himself smiling at her, in spite of the fact that this was effectively their first argument.

  “Fair enough,” he agreed somewhat cautiously.

  Right then he would have given anything she wanted. If she didn’t want to double back, even to change horses, then he wasn’t going to argue with her.

  God, she is beautiful when she is angry, he mused. She looked so vibrant, so full of vim and vigour, that he wanted to sweep her into his arms for a hug and kiss the life out of her.

  He winced at that mental analogy. Given what had very nearly happened only this time yesterday, he didn’t want to think about anyone losing their lives, and hurriedly turned his attention back to their current predicament.

  “We can’t go to the safe house right now,” Charlie declared firmly. He nodded in the direction they had last seen the jailers. “It’s too risky. We can’t bring that lot to Afferley. Sir Hugo isn’t due until tomorrow, and we can’t hold off half of Derby overnight. Wally and Simon are there. While we are being chased, they are safe.”

  “Where is it? This, Afferley.” Hetty asked as she glanced around them. “I have no idea where we are.”

  If he was honest neither did he, but he wasn’t going to say as much to her. “We are a few miles away, I think. We must find some way we can change the horses. Then we need to find a way to get to the safe house without being seen.”

  “Won’t they search this far out?”

  “I think they will now, yes. They just haven’t searched this far yet.”

  “I hope to God, Mabel and your friends are alright,” Hetty declared firmly.