Lies and Misdemeanours

by Rebecca King

Charlie lifted the pile of clothing and held them out to her. “I have brought you a cloak too. Not only will you not draw attention to yourself by scandalously riding through villages flashing those gorgeous legs of yours, but you will be warmer with the cloak, and considerably more comfortable riding without the skirts,” he reasoned - not for the first time. “The jailers are looking for a man and a woman. If you change, and I wear a cloak, there are effectively two men riding together. People won’t notice us. They will remember a woman who was flashing her legs and riding astride though.”

  He stared pointedly at her legs hidden beneath the folds of her skirts.

  She took the clothes off him, and disappeared into the trees.

  It felt strange to draw the breeches over her legs. She had seen her brothers in long trousers on many occasions and, of course, many men wearing breeches, but had never really thought anything of it before. Now that she too was wearing them, she wished she could put her dress back on.

  The course material against the smooth, tender flesh of her inner thighs felt harsh and unfamiliar. This was by far the most uncomfortable thing she could do. She looked down at the sight of her long legs so clearly displayed for the world to see, and sighed in dismay.

  How on earth Charlie thought she might convince anyone she was man was anyone’s guess.

  Still, he is right about being noticed, she thought as she tugged on the surprisingly snug boots, and drew the coarse cotton shirt over her head.

  There was nothing she could do about her breasts; they had to remain within the tight confines of her corset. She was awkwardly aware of the snug fit of her shirt as it pressed against the lush mounds God had graced her with. It was almost a relief when she drew the cloak around her to hide her blushes. She could only hope and pray that they didn’t need to stop off at a tavern, and she would be required to take the wretched thing off.

  As far as she was concerned, nobody; neither man, woman or child, was going to see her thus, without a cloak.

  With that thought firmly rooted in her mind, she nodded to nobody in particular and stomped out of the clearing with the folds of the cloak held closed with determined fingers. Her dress was tucked under her elbow but, as she walked toward him, Charlie was already shaking his head.

  “I am afraid that has to stay,” he nodded to her dress.

  “I am not leaving my shawl,” she argued. “It is my warmest one.”

  “I will buy you three new shawls once this is over. It cannot come with us because we cannot be caught with anything incriminating on us. If they hold up the shawl to their ‘witnesses’, it could be recognised. As it is, with this hat tugged over here like this -,” he drew a large brimmed hat over her head. “This cloak over here covering, well, practically all of you, nobody is going to suspect a thing.”

  He tugged his own hat on, and stood back to admire his handiwork. He groaned in disbelief. She was dressed up like a highwayman, but without a tricorn, and had numerous folds of clothing covering her from the top of her gorgeous head to the tips of her heavy boots, yet she still managed to look teasingly seductive.

  He coughed uncomfortably and turned toward his horse before he did something that would shock them both.

  As he led her horse toward her, he tried to block out all thoughts of just how soft the field looked, and how wonderful it would be to spend the afternoon rolling around in it with her. When his body began to respond to the images that flashed through his mind, he handed her the reins, and lingered long enough to help her into her saddle, before he mounted his own horse in one swift motion and wheeled it in the direction of the safe house.

  “Let’s go,” he growled.

  “Is everything alright?” she asked when she saw the dark frown on his face.

  Had she said something to annoy him? The swiftness of the change within him was a little alarming given that, as far as she could see, they were the only people for miles around, and everything had been fine moments earlier.

  “I am fine,” he assured her without meeting her gaze.

  A rather stilted silence settled between them as they rode side by side through the fields. He daren’t look at her for fear of teasing his already tortured flesh; and she daren’t speak to him in case she angered him even more.

  When he couldn’t stand the tension a moment longer, he looked at her. She appeared to be enjoying the sunshine and warmth of the day, and was completely at ease with her new persona. It was a little unnerving to note just how quickly, and how well, she had adapted to the new disguise, and how hot and bothered it made him. He rather suspected that he was creating problems for himself because he wanted to peel away the layers to get to the woman beneath. Now, as a result of his own ingenuity, he faced a new struggle keep his mind on anything other than the tantalising way the cloak folds had eased apart, and flashed him a teasing glance of the full length of one extremely curvy, and very long leg.

  “We really do need to talk when we get to Afferley,” Charlie declared, calmly but firmly.

  “Oh?” Hetty lifted a brow, and waited.

  “We have issues now,” he declared obliquely.

  “Issues? What issues?” Hetty knew that he was referring to their marriage.

  That morning, when they had stood side-by-side in the Head Jailer’s office and dedicated their lives to each other, was something that would always stand out in her memories. It had been as bittersweet, and heart-breaking, as it had been joyous. In spite of the starkness of their location, the special moment when he had slipped the ring on her finger and the Vicar had declared them to be man and wife was something she knew she would never forget.

  “Jesus,” Charlie snapped. “Keep going, and keep your face blank.”

  “What?” she frowned as his words snapped her out of her revere. It was only when she turned to look at him that she realised something was amiss.

  Her gaze instinctively followed his and, when she saw what he was looking at, her stomach dropped to her toes.

  There, heading directly toward them, in the direction of Derby, were four large black horses pulling an empty jailer’s cart.

  “Look at me and pretend that we are deep in conversation. Don’t stop, Hetty. Don’t look at them,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

  Although he tried desperately to keep his posture as relaxed as possible, his horse danced beneath the tension he inadvertently put into the reins.

  “It is just a cart,” he said, although wasn’t entirely sure if he was trying to reassure her, or himself.

  Hetty felt sick as she watched the horrible conveyance approach. She tried to keep her gaze averted, but found herself inevitably drawn to it again and again. It was horrible just to look at. The thought of actually sitting inside it made the apple she had enjoyed only a few minutes ago start to churn in her stomach.

  The cart not only looked horrifying, but it was a stark reminder that they were not yet far enough away from Derby to be safe yet.

  She was suddenly very grateful that he had managed to persuade her to change her outfit because the cloak felt like a mental barrier from the fear of being found at any moment. Not only was it considerably warmer than her dress, but it was a completely different colour and, when topped with the hat, made her look nothing like the woman who had been chased out of Derby with a condemned prisoner.

  “Morning,” the driver called as he passed.

  Charlie nodded. “Morning,” he replied.

  Hetty, unwilling to speak, merely doffed her cap the way she had seen her brothers do on countless occasions. Thankfully, the cart had passed by the time she dropped her hand back into her lap, and she wasn’t required to speak.

  She daren’t look behind her to see if the jailer suspected anything. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he said anything else to her, or the cart stopped so the driver could take a closer look at them.

  She glanced over at Charlie, and watched his cheeks puff out on a sigh. Some of the tension eased from him, but he was still tense and nervous as he
scanned the road ahead. He rolled his eyes at her, but made no attempt to offer her any words of comfort. They both knew that danger was far too close for either of them to start to relax.

  Charlie knew she was looking at him, seeking reassurance, but he wasn’t sure that he could manage to say anything right now. His heart felt as though it was lodged in his throat somewhere, and refused to budge. He struggled to swallow past the sudden dryness in his throat. In all of his life, he had never been as worried as he was now. Not even when he had been convicted and sentenced to death, and been dragged back to the cells had he really absorbed just how bad his situation was. Not even when he had been dragged through the condemned prisoner’s process on the morning of his supposed execution, had he felt this sick with nerves. He glanced down at the fine tremors that shook his hand and clenched his fist in an attempt to quell them. He hadn’t realised that the ordeal had bothered him so much, but it was evident that there were lingering issues that had yet to be dealt with.

  It was a relief, in a way, that he had something else to think about; like getting to the safe house, because it kept his thoughts away from the ordeal of being on the gallows.

  “We have to ride a bit faster,” she said quietly. “There isn’t enough distance between us and them.”

  “We are not far away from Afferley now,” Charlie declared firmly. “If we keep going, we can be there tomorrow. It means that we will have to ride for as long as we can today, and are going to have to stay out overnight to make sure that we aren’t followed.”

  “We can’t stay out overnight,” Hetty gasped. It was bad enough being outside in daylight. The thought of having to spend several long, cold hours out in the darkness was something she just couldn’t contemplate.

  “We have to,” Charlie said flatly. His tone brooked no argument. “I will protect you, Hetty. Anyone who crosses our path from now on is going to regret the folly of it.”

  As he spoke, the almost ruthless pleasure on his face sent a shiver of unease through Hetty. It looked as though he almost relished the challenge of being able to pitch his wits against Meldrew’s. It made her want to shake him, to reinforce the dangers they were in so that he understood, and didn’t take ridiculous risks with his life.

  Had he learned nothing from being on the gallows?

  “Charlie,” she sighed only to lapse into silence when he speared her with a hard look.

  “Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for her to say anything else. He nudged his horse into a canter, and left her to stare after him.

  Hetty watched him go for several moments before, with a sigh, she followed. If she had to, she would ride morning, noon, and night to leave Derby behind, but still couldn’t see the wisdom of spending a night outside.

  She wished now that she knew him a little better. Heaven only knew what must be going through his mind. Being faced with a jailer’s cart, after everything he had been through already must be downright horrifying, yet he had met both with a steely determination she had never seen before. Whatever thoughts, fears, doubts or worries he might have were completely hidden beneath a cold, hard, ruthlessness that was completely alien to her.

  She wasn’t sure whether to be frightened by it or not.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hetty sighed as she eyed the ramshackle old building Charlie suggested they stay in overnight.

  It was worrying just to look at. The moss-coloured stones, sagging walls, and battered door, sat amidst a veritable wilderness of overgrown weeds and bramble bushes that were as imposing as the building they surrounded. While the vegetation assured them that the house hadn’t been lived in for many years¸ it was going to be a challenge for them to get inside.

  “It doesn’t look safe,” she whispered. Nevertheless, she picked her way through the dense undergrowth, and eyed the dangerously sagging roof warily.

  “I know, but at least it will give us somewhere to get out of this wind for a few hours. The horses need rest, and so do we.”

  Charlie looked over at her. He didn’t say as much to her, but her lips had started to turn blue at the edges, and her teeth were clattering together like a pair of castanets. She was frozen, and so was he. It was only a matter of time before she became ill and, given the dangers they were in, that was the last thing either of them needed.

  “I am sorry if I sound ungrateful,” she said quietly. “I just don’t like the look of that roof.”

  She eyed the sagging tiles a little balefully and, as if to emphasise her point, one of the tiles suddenly broke free and disappeared into the tangle of bushes at their feet.

  They shared a look, but remained silent as they forced their way through the thicket and made their way inside.

  “Look on the bright side,” Charlie muttered as he waited for her to join him. “It has been standing for at least a hundred years. There is no reason why it should collapse tonight, of all nights.”

  Hetty rolled her eyes and inelegantly puffed out her cheeks as she yanked her cloak away from some particularly determined brambles, and turned to study the room before them. She was grateful she had breeches on now because the coarse material protected her legs from being scratched by the cruel spikes of the foliage. Now though, it also had to protect her from the mess on the floor.

  Hetty had to admit that it was nice to be out of the wind, but the way it echoed around the hollow walls was disturbing. The low, almost mournful howl, felt strangely sinister. She shivered, and drew her cloak around her a little tighter.

  Charlie began to loosen the girths on the saddles. “I won’t take the saddles off, just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

  Hetty stared at him with wide eyes. “Do you really think we might need to?” She glanced around them with a frown. “How do you expect to get out of here in a hurry?”

  “We will manage,” Charlie assured her. He patted his horse before he turned to hers.

  Aware that Hetty was watching him warily, he sighed. “There is no reason why they would look this far,” he assured her. “If they do, we will deal with it.”

  He didn’t want to scare her, but couldn’t hide the truth. Just because they hadn’t seen anyone yet, didn’t mean that they weren’t out there – still looking; still waiting for that golden opportunity to capture their quarry.

  “The whole country is going to be on the look-out for us,” Hetty whispered morosely. “You are not just an escaped convict. You are a condemned convict.”

  Rather than answer, he nodded toward what appeared to be the old sitting room.

  “It’s not too bad,” he said reasonably.

  She sighed as she studied the dusty room. Other than a thick layer of dust, and a few determined weeds that had grown through the roof, it was dry and reasonably warm. It would have to do because it was the best they had come across.

  “It will be fine for tonight,” she said quietly. She was so tired that she didn’t think she could sit on the horse for another minute, but wasn’t going to point out her intimate discomforts to him right now.

  “It’s going to get dark soon,” he declared with a glance outside. “We can’t have a fire, I am afraid. What food do you have left?”

  “I have an apple,” Hetty replied, glad for the change of subject. She removed the apple from her pocket and held it while she dug around inside the other pocket of her cloak. “Some cheese, a piece of ham, and some of the bread.”

  Charlie dug around in his pockets.

  “I have the leftover cheese too, and a bit of pie left. It isn’t a banquet, but it will be enough to last us overnight. We can replenish our supplies in one of the villages we pass through tomorrow if we need to. Hopefully, we should be at Afferley before then.”

  Hetty was ravenous, but then didn’t want to eat. She glanced cautiously out of the window, but couldn’t see anything except trees and, of course, the bushes directly outside the window. Above them, she could see darkened sky, which was gloomy now because of the impending storm and encroaching dusk.

  “We
haven’t left a trail for anyone to follow,” Charlie assured her when he saw the lingering fear on her face. “We should be fine for now. Get some rest while you can.”

  Hetty nodded and moved over to find a space on the floor. She was grateful for her cloak, and used it partly to pad the stone floor a little. Once settled, she tucked the rest of the heavy folds around her.

  Charlie sat beside her and divided the remaining food into two equal portions.

  “There is no water I am afraid, but we can see if we can find a stream in the morning.”

  They ate in silence. Not a sound could be heard; not even the gentle hoot of a solitary owl broke the stillness of the night. It was almost too quiet, and did little to ease her growing certainty that something was wrong.

  “I don’t like this,” she whispered.

  “The food?” Charlie asked with a frown.

  Hetty slowly shook her head. She tried to warn herself that she was being foolish, and there really was nothing to worry about, but something deep within her refused to ignore her unease. Once she had finished the last of her food, she made her way to the window, and studied as much of the surrounding woodland as she could.

  “What is it?”

  The sudden warmth of his breath against her cheek, along with the sound of his voice directly beside her, made her jump. She spun around in alarm, and gasped when she realised just how close he was. She hadn’t even heard him move.

  He clamped a hand across her mouth to stifle her scream.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s alright. I am just worried about Simon, that’s all,” she lied.

  She glanced at him before she resumed her seat. His nearness unnerved her as much as the situation they were in, and she just had to put a little distance between them so she could think properly.

  Until now, whenever he had drawn near, she had been excited and full of anticipation. Now, she was nervous and wary, only couldn’t quite understand why. After all, he was her husband. She had no reason to fear him. He had done nothing to frighten her in any way. There was no reason why she should be unnerved by him now, not after everything they had been through.