by Rebecca King
‘Get out of the carriage,’ the highwayman ordered waving his gun toward the street.
‘You are not going to go out there, are you?’ Rosamund cried looking panicked when Clarissa’s hand dropped to the door handle.
Clarissa paused to look at her. ‘I have to.’
‘No, you don’t. They will kill you,’ Rosamund hissed, reaching out to stop Clarissa from opening the door.
‘Probably.’ Clarissa hated to think about that. Instead, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to appear as unconcerned as possible as she pushed the door open. ‘They want us to get out of the carriage and will kill us if we don’t do as they tell us.’
Rosamund waved at the gun on the floor and hissed: ‘What do we do about that?’
‘Get out of the carriage! Now!’ The highwaymen directly outside demanded, thumping heavily on the side of the carriage.
Clarissa threw him a dark glare but said quietly to Rosamund. ‘Leave it where it is.’
Without saying a word, she nudged her shawl, making sure that the gun was covered. With a warning glare at Rosamund, Clarissa dropped the step. She was relieved to find Frederick waiting to hand her down.
‘We don’t have anything for you to steal unless you are going to take the carriage,’ Frederick offered, glancing quickly at one of the highwaymen who was already rummaging around beneath the box seat on the back of the carriage.
Within seconds, the highwayman stepped back and shook his head to confirm there was indeed nothing worth taking. Clarissa jerked when one of the highwaymen, the oldest and apparently the leader, stepped closer to her. She curled her lip in revulsion when he raked her with an assessing look, as if trying to mentally calculate her value. Clarissa squared her shoulders and issued him with a withering look before copying him and curling her lip in a spiteful sneer. She stopped when Rosamund gave her a sharp nudge with her elbow accompanied by a warning glare.
Frederick coughed to clear the hoarseness from his voice. ‘I am afraid that the horses aren’t well bred, sir. They are nags, really,’ he explained when the highwaymen began to assess the carriage, horses, and people, as if trying to decide which contained the most value and which should be shot and disposed of.
‘Give me your bag,’ a highwayman demanded of Clarissa. He held a grubby hand out and waggled his fingers impatiently.
Clarissa dutifully held out her evening purse, which the highwayman rudely snatched off her. Everyone watched him rummage through the contents.
‘A handkerchief and a mirror,’ he grunted in disgust before dropping everything onto the floor.
‘I think you should know that people are talking about you. I am sure that you have read in the newspapers that you have robbed people. Nobody is going to travel anywhere in this area and carry jewels and personal possessions on them now. The longer you do this the less there will be for you to steal,’ Clarissa warned.
The man stopped what he was doing to glare at her. He squinted as if absorbing that warning. After a moment or two of contemplative silence he nodded and pursed his lips. Clarissa expected him to scorn her, or issue her with a warning, but all he did was grunt and hold his hand out to Rosamund and waggle his fingers again until she handed her bag over. Another highwayman yanked open the door to the carriage and disappeared inside while another began to rummage around the box underneath the driver’s seat. Minutes later, empty handed and rapidly getting annoyed, the highwaymen all turned to their boss, who pierced Clarissa with a dark look.
‘So, word has gotten out, has it?’ he murmured, his voice a husky growl that matched his burly stature.
His thick neck atop of which was a rotund, somewhat mean face, reminded Clarissa of a bullfrog. He had heavy jowls, and widely spaced, somewhat bulging eyes, and lips so thick they made him look like a grotesque parody of an outraged toad.
Toad, I shall call you. It is quite fitting.
‘Your exploits are all over the newspapers, or do you not read?’ Clarissa raked him with an insulting look that made his colleagues guffaw.
‘The Star Elite’s are too. They are in this area as well now because of you,’ Rosamund warned. She suspected the toad tried to squint at her but all he managed to do was look drunk as he narrowed one of his bulging eyes.
‘You have a smart mouth on you, don’t you, girl?’ Toad mused at Clarissa as he raked her with another insulting look. ‘You aren’t a well-bred aristocrat and that’s a fact.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Clarissa demanded, tipping her chin up defiantly.
The man smirked at her and raked her with a dour look. ‘Where are you from?’
‘Why? I don’t see what that has got to do with anything,’ Clarissa protested only for the highwayman closest to her to cock his weapon meaningfully.
Another highwayman who had been on his way to join them suddenly turned on his heel and remounted his horse. Once on it, he slowly shook his head at Toad in silent warning about something.
‘Well?’ Toad prompted, without acknowledging his colleague.
‘Her father is the vicar at Wimley Marshes, sir,’ Frederick offered when Clarissa didn’t speak.
‘The vicar, eh?’ Toad nodded, as if he had expected as much. ‘Why are you out at this time of night if your father knows all about us, eh? Might he be sending you a message? Eh? Wanting us to get rid of you for him, is he?’
His men sniggered.
Clarissa glared at them. ‘I am going home. My father might be the vicar, but I don’t live with him. I am going home to my aunt’s house. But, as you quite rightly say, I am not a well-bred aristocrat and therefore don’t have any riches for you to steal.’ She held her hands palms upward in an empty-handed gesture that made the highwayman swear.
‘Is she rich?’ Toad demanded.
‘Who?’
‘Your aunt.’
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Clarissa demanded only to be met with a stern glare. ‘You are highwaymen, aren’t you? You are men who rob people by the side of the road. Are you burglars too?’ She turned to a quietly nervous Rosamund. ‘God, highwaymen in modern England, I ask you.’
‘Who is your aunt?’ Toad demanded.
Clarissa sighed. ‘She is Bettina Warnington.’ Clarissa purposefully didn’t tell the man that her aunt was a Viscountess. ‘Her husband died many years ago. I moved in with her to keep her company. She was bored, without much of an income, and needed company. Because I didn’t want to stay with my father any longer, I moved in with my aunt to keep her company. Rosamund, here, is our maid, so don’t expect any money or valuables from her either. Neither of us have anything to give you.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ Toad mused, his gruff voice hoarse to the point of being a dull croak.
He hitched his filthy breeches higher up his ample girth and grinned at her as he stepped closer. Clarissa leaned backward, away from the heady stench of tobacco and ale on his fetid breath. From how strong the scent was it was evident that the man had enjoyed plenty of both, but the smell that emanated from him, when combined with his unwashed body, was enough to make her want to wretch. When he leaned closer still, Clarissa tipped her head to one side, so she had to leer at him out of one eye.
‘You have a life. I could take that,’ Toad drawled, his leering gaze sliding slowly down the length of her again. ‘If you haven’t got anything else to offer me that is.’
Clarissa squinted at him before turning to look up and down the road meaningfully. ‘You could kill us, but I don’t think you would get as far as the edge of the village before someone saw you and was able to identify you to the magistrate. Of course, if everyone claimed that they saw nothing they would put themselves under suspicion for being complicit in your crimes.’ She watched Toad frown and sighed heavily. ‘They are helping you,’ Clarissa amended when she realised that she had lost him on the ‘big’ words.
Toad scratched his head and looked up and down the street. He scowled as he contemplated his options. When he turned t
o Clarissa, she wondered if she really had pushed him too far and he was going to put a gun to her head and kill her.
‘Boss?’ One of his friends suddenly called, his voice hushed but worried.
‘We have got to go,’ another warned, looking up and down the street with wary intensity. He suddenly paused and squinted into the dark shadows at the end of the main street, then turned to mutter something to his friend, who also turned to look at the strange shapes and shadows barely visible in the dark.
‘Er, boss?’ Another of Toad’s accomplices muttered, stepping warily toward his horse.
‘I am thinking,’ Toad snapped.
‘Boss.’
‘I said, shut up,’ Toad commanded loudly. He stepped closer to Clarissa and squinted at her. ‘I could kill you.’
‘You have said that already,’ Clarissa murmured disinterestedly. ‘But your friends need you. I think they have seen something.’ Her voice dropped several octaves and became quite sinister. ‘Or someone.’
Toad suddenly scowled at his comrades. ‘What is it?’
One of the men pointed to the end of the road, but all anybody could see was darkness. Toad cursed fluidly and spat at the ground while he tried to decide what to do.
Clarissa stared boldly at the thug with a courage she truly didn’t feel. She was shaking from head to foot and, for once, was glad that it was so dark because he couldn’t see the true level of her fear. ‘I demand that you either kill us or let us go at once,’ she said firmly. ‘Make your mind up because from the sound of it you aren’t here alone.’
Toad began to laugh a huge booming belly laugh that shattered the silence. He glared mockingly at her. ‘You are demanding something from me?’ he cried around his mirth. ‘Oh, for that, I am going to let you go,’ he drawled with another laugh. ‘You see, I am not a cold-hearted man, now am I? I could have killed you, I will admit, but for your bravery and daring, I will let you live. However, I want one thing from you.’ He tittered to himself and hitched his breeches up again before taking another step closer.
Clarissa felt sick. She slid a look at Frederick but was too worried about what Toad was going to demand of her to do anything more than wait. ‘I don’t have anything to give you.’
‘Oh, I think you do,’ Toad teased, his voice lyrical.
‘Boss.’ This time, Toad’s comrade sounded impatient.
Toad waved his friend away without taking his lecherous gaze off Clarissa. ‘Come on then, hand them over.’
Clarissa looked around. ‘What?’
‘Your dress.’ Toad rocked on his heels when Clarissa blinked at him in horror.
‘I am not going to give you my dress,’ she blustered, horrified at the idea.
‘Oh, but you will.’ Toad cocked his gun and pointed it at her. ‘If you don’t want to strike a bargain with me, I will take your life.’
‘But what will I wear?’ Clarissa demanded.
‘Both of you, come on now. In fact, all of you, hand them over,’ Toad amended, eyeing Frederick’s fine clothing calculatingly. ‘I know someone of your size who could do with a new shirt.’
‘Sir, you can’t do this. The young miss will be shamed,’ Frederick pleaded.
‘It’s all right, Frederick,’ Clarissa murmured when she saw the coldness in Toad’s eyes. She knew he would shoot Frederick just to force her to do as she was told. ‘God, you are an utter bastard, aren’t you? Your reputation for being ruthless is going to be destroyed when they find out that you have stolen a vicar’s daughter’s clothing and left her in her undergarments by the side of the road. I hope my father prays for your worthless soul because as far as I am concerned, you and your Herod’s army can be cast to Hades.’
‘Miss, you can’t intend to do what he asks of you, can you?’ Rosamund began, stepping forward to look at Clarissa with growing alarm when she started to awkwardly snatch at the laces running down her spine.
‘We have no choice, do we? Help me,’ Clarissa snapped.
‘She has to remove hers too,’ Toad warned.
‘What?’ Rosamund gasped, looking outraged. ‘God, you bastard.’ She glared angrily at the men still on horseback but none of them made any attempt to intervene. ‘You are all utter bastards,’ she announced to a heavy silence.
‘Well, you have finery on as well. Those kinds of dresses can earn us a small fortune. There is a market for them kind of things,’ Toad drawled before turning his attention to a hapless Frederick. ‘Off with ‘em.’
‘What?’ Frederick stared at the man in horror. ‘Me?’
‘Aye, you too.’
‘Boss.’ The urgency in his friend’s voice made Toad turn to three of the highwaymen who were holding the carriage’s horses steady. ‘We just saw someone at the end of the road.’
‘Who?’
The man shrugged.
‘Go and check,’ Toad ordered. ‘Don’t go far and be quick.’
While the man scuttled off to follow his boss’s orders, Toad turned to look at Clarissa who was helping Rosamund remove her laces. Clarissa glared coldly at him as she yanked at the laces before turning her back so Rosamund could return the favour. When the dresses had been removed, Clarissa snatched Rosamund’s off her and threw them both into Toad’s face. She didn’t dare even look at Frederick, who was standing beside them doing his best to cover his modesty with his boot because he wasn’t wearing any undergarments beneath his shirt and breeches. Rosamund was standing with her back to him, peering desperately into the carriage to avoid any further embarrassment.
‘Thank you,’ Toad drawled with a mocking bow before he went to find his horse.
The highwayman closest to them smirked at her before he too swiftly mounted his horse and turned to leave.
It was then that the night was interrupted by the loud blast of gunfire. Rosamund screamed and jumped into the carriage. Frederick cursed fluidly and whirled around to see who had fired the gun only to realise he was facing the women. With another curse he whirled around again until his back was to them.
Clarissa squinted down the road at the gunfire. Even in the darkness it was clear to see that one of the highwaymen was now lying in the road while two of his comrades stood over him firing their guns at someone hiding in the shadows. Toad swore fluidly because he recognised the motionless man. He wheeled his horse around only to then realise that Clarissa, Frederick, and Rosamund, were all watching him. He pointed his weapon at them but another loud blast of gunfire, accompanied by a masculine scream of pain from another of his friends, interrupted him. With a curse, Toad promptly forgot about his victims and began to bellow orders at his men instead.
‘Damn it all to Hell,’ Frederick snarled when Toad began to trot down the road, his gun drawn and pointed into the darkness.
‘They didn’t see the gun. It’s still here, Clarissa,’ Rosamund murmured quietly.
Frederick hurried to the back of the carriage and began to rummage around in the box for something he could use to cover his modesty. He stopped suddenly and handed Clarissa another shotgun with a scowl on his face.
‘I don’t know why he left that in there,’ he muttered. ‘They could have taken it.’
Suddenly, the end of the street came alive to the sound of gunfire again. Shots blasted out from all directions making the highwaymen scatter. One or two began to run back toward the carriage.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Frederick cried. ‘Get in.’
With one wary eye on the women, he began to side-step around the carriage, out of sight, where he intended to wait until the women were aboard.
‘Use my shawl,’ Clarissa ordered before snatching it off the gun, bunching it up and throwing it over the carriage to him. Frederick muttered something that sounded roughly like a muttered thanks before he quickly protected his modesty and climbed onto the driver’s seat.
Clarissa climbed into the carriage, cocked the guns, and opened the pouch of bullets. Hunkering over the weapon, she braced it on the open window of the carriage and squint
ed at the highwayman running toward them. When she was sure she wasn’t going to kill him, she pulled the trigger. The carriage immediately jolted when the horses jumped nervously. Clarissa cursed and had to steady herself again. When she looked up it was to find that the highwayman had disappeared.
On the coachman’s seat, Frederick started to panic when he saw several more highwaymen heading toward them as they tried to escape the invisible gunmen firing upon them. Without waiting for permission from Clarissa, Frederick slapped the reins and hauled hard on them so the carriage could make a sharp turn off the main street.
Clarissa grinned with delight when the highwaymen started to fall behind. At first, she thought that they were doggedly following them to escape the mysterious gunmen as well. It wasn’t until the carriage turned off the main street, and the highwaymen remained close behind, that she realised that the highwaymen were chasing them.
‘They are angry we have shot at one of them,’ Rosamund cried, peering at the riders. ‘What do we do?’
‘Shoot them again,’ Clarissa growled.
She physically shook with fear but leaned out of the window and tried to take aim once more. It was harder to aim properly while the carriage was jerking and jolting through the narrow country lane, but she pointed the gun at the closest rider and pulled the trigger anyway. While she had no idea if she had hit him, she grinned when he immediately swerved into the field and the horse stumbled, nearly unseating him. It was enough to hinder him and put more distance between them. Redoubling her efforts to put as much distance between them as possible, Clarissa reloaded the gun.
‘Keep reloading them for me, Rosamund,’ she ordered, handing Rosamund an empty gun.
Rosamund dutifully placed the pouch of bullets into her lap and, when Clarissa handed her an empty gun, reloaded it, cocked it, and handed it back. Clarissa remained where she was, half-hanging out of the moving carriage so she could keep firing at riders. Despite her best efforts, several of the highwaymen still managed to close the distance between them. When it was evident that they were going to catch up, Clarissa threw Frederick a dark glare: ‘Don’t stop for anything, Frederick.’
