Chapter 15 #2
Milly gazed at her with wide eyes, her knuckles white in the darkness as she clutched the handle of the shovel. Angel grasped her arm and squeezed in a silent show of encouragement before glancing up at Leo, who was waiting on the roof, poised to jump. He nodded.
From inside, raised voices erupted in alarm as smoke began billowing up through gaps in the roof tiles. The barn must be filling with smoke at quite a rate.
Angel grabbed for the rope she’d left tied to the pickaxe and crouched down to the right of the door, about three feet from the wall. She pulled the rope tight, angling it so it would not stop the door from opening.
Milly stood a little to her right, farther from the wall, the shovel held aloft as the shrieks from inside became increasingly loud and furious.
Suddenly, the door flew open.
“Bill, take the brat and get away—”
Mercy’s voice, choking and coughing, was still audible enough as Bill lumbered out, spluttering and looking about in the darkness as he hauled Toby along with his good arm.
“—don’t let that skinny bitch get her hands on him or I’ll make you sorry.”
Toby thrashed, legs kicking furiously as Bill hurried out—and tripped over the rope.
The man fell hard, emitting a bellow of pain as he fell upon his injured arm.
Toby, suddenly free of his iron grip, scrambled up and away, eyes wide.
Bill stumbled to his feet, determined to follow, only to hit the ground again as Leo leapt down from the roof, catching him about the neck and pulling him down.
Bill howled with pain and fury, but rolled to the side, reaching to his boot and pulling out a dagger.
He swiped at Leo, who scrambled out of the way, feet slipping on the muddy ground.
“Here, love!” Milly called as Toby glanced around in a panic. At hearing the familiar voice, he turned towards her, not seeing Mercy who had sidestepped the two men wrestling on the ground and run past them.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Mercy snarled, lunging for him, but before she could take a hold, Milly ran forward and brought the shovel down hard on her arm.
Mercy shrieked, staggering back, clutching her arm against her chest.
Milly grabbed hold of Toby, holding the boy protectively beside her.
“Get Toby away,” Angel shouted to Milly. “Go back to the gig and, if anything happens, get to safety!”
“But—” Milly protested, but Angel gave them both a hard shove.
“No buts.”
Milly nodded, taking Toby’s hand and hurrying him away as Angel turned back just in time, smoke blurring her eyes as she saw Mercy barrelling towards her, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl.
There was no time to sidestep, and Angel went down as Mercy’s fingers sank into her hair, yanking hard and then slamming Angel’s head into the ground.
Angel saw stars, the shock of pain, of being attacked with such violence cowing her for a moment, and then fury took over.
If she wanted to fight dirty, Angel would oblige.
Black Jack had not been shy about teaching a young lady some very nasty tricks.
She surged forward, head-butting Mercy’s nose with all the force she could muster.
It hurt. It hurt so much Angel felt sick with it, but the woman screamed and fell back on the wet ground, clutching her nose as blood and rain cascaded down her face.
“You bitch! You broke my nose,” she shrieked as Angel staggered to her feet, or at least she assumed that was what Mercy was saying.
She raised a hand to her forehead, which throbbed like the very devil, but there was no time to wail about small hurts now.
A bellow of rage made Angel turn in time to see a dagger flash, and Leo dancing backwards out of its way, but she could spare no breath to be afraid for him either as Mercy reached out and snagged Angel around the ankle, tugging her foot out from under her.
Angel gasped as she hit the ground again, the air knocked from her lungs.
She fumbled for her pistol, stowed in the deep pockets of her skirt, but Mercy lunged at her, and it appeared Bill wasn’t the only one with a knife.
Angel scrambled away, tearing her stockings on the uneven ground and scraping her knees.
Just in time, though, as the dagger stabbed through her wet skirts and tore the fabric but missed skin by a hair’s breadth.
A crash behind them took Mercy’s attention as Leo threw Bill into the barn door. She flinched as it splintered, lurching on its hinges and falling drunkenly to the ground as Bill gave a bellow of rage. Shaking himself, he retrieved the dagger he’d dropped when he landed and went after Leo.
Before Angel could blink, Mercy came at her again, blade flashing, and Angel kicked out, catching her in the chin.
She fell back, dazed for a moment as Angel got unsteadily to her feet, backing away as she reached again for her pistol.
Mercy grunted, lifting something from the ground as Angel drew the gun.
She tried to steady her breathing but in the next second the pistol flew from her hand, struck away by Mercy, who’d picked up an old threshing flail and brought it down hard.
Thank God it hit the pistol and not her hand, but Angel stumbled back as the pistol tumbled into the dark undergrowth and disappeared.
Mercy advanced, swiping the flail back and forth as Angel looked around for a weapon. An ancient-looking bucket was all she could find, and she grabbed at the handle, swinging it in a high arc and letting it go. It fell, clouting Mercy hard on the head.
Mercy cursed, but it only slowed her for a moment.
Devil take the wretched woman, Angel thought in despair, staring at the febrile light in Mercy’s eyes, the murderous rage of her expression, her lips pulled back in a feral snarl.
With her face bloody and bruised, she looked like something crawled up from the depths of hell, and Angel steadied her nerve, determined not to be dragged back down with her. Black Jack would never forgive her.
Behind Mercy, at the periphery of her vision, Angel saw Leo deliver a blow to the head that sent Bill staggering backward. He swayed for a moment and then fell and moved no more.
Heart pounding, she realised Leo was free to help her, but Mercy didn’t know that. She was still advancing on Angel with determination, the flail in one hand and a knife in the other.
Angel glanced about her, searching for anything to deflect the knife, and found only a short piece of wood that might once have been a floorboard.
Mercy leaped at her, first with the flail, then the knife swiping out, and Angel held the wood before her, protecting herself as Mercy slashed the knife and flung the flail madly around.
“No, you don’t!” Leo shouted and grabbed Mercy around the waist, swinging her away from Angel.
Mercy dropped the flail in her shock, screaming abuse at Leo, but she still had the knife.
Though the angle was too awkward to hurt him badly, she slashed at his arms and Leo cursed in pain, letting her fall.
Angel took advantage of the woman’s momentary lack of balance and used the old plank, swinging it with all the force she could muster.
It hit Mercy’s hand, sending the knife skittering away into the dark.
Enraged, and apparently out of her senses, Mercy threw herself at Leo, fists flailing, scratching and kicking, screaming curses and trying to bite him.
Leo did his best to hold her at bay but looked to Angel in horror.
“Leo, hit her!” Angel shrieked.
Leo looked equally appalled. “I can’t hit a woman!”
His decency cost him, though, as Mercy raked her nails viciously across his cheek.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake—” Angel muttered crossly, picked up the piece of wood again, and clouted Mercy over the head. She fell, not out cold but dazed, slumping on the ground, breathing harshly.
Leo stared at Angel and gave a soft laugh. “I think I love you,” he said, grinning stupidly.
Angel blinked, trying to think past the ringing in her ears, the rushing of her blood in her veins.
She was shaking now, but despite everything, his words made her heart erupt, a happy bolt of lightning that surged inside her, making her want to laugh and cry all at once, but then she remembered another of Black Jack’s rather too unvarnished bits of wisdom.
After a fight, men can be excitable and agitated, so you should treat them with caution. They might do—or say—things they might not otherwise do.
In other words, Angel, my pet, keep your hand on your ha’penny, or you might end up losing more than you bargained for.
“We’d best get her tied up quick before she gets her breath back,” Angel said, hurrying to the pickaxe to undo the knot she’d tied, but the rain and her trembling fingers made the job impossible.
“Here,” Leo said, handing her back her dagger.
She took it from him, looking up. “You didn’t use it,” she observed, for though she’d had little opportunity to watch his fight with Bill, she’d never seen him reach for the weapon.
He shrugged. “I don’t like knives.”
Angel shook her head but smiled as she cut the rope. “You’re too good, too honourable, to be around villains. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“I’m still standing,” he observed wryly. “And I did fight in the war, you know.”
“You did?” Angel stood, staring at him.
His eyes grew sombre, the laughter and merriment that always danced there fading for a moment. “I did. And I will never take another life so long as I live, if I can help it.”
Angel gazed at him for a long moment, sensing his regret. She nodded, understanding. She reached up and touched his cheek gently, inspecting the bloody scratches. “So long as you don’t lose your own for being too noble.”
“I’m not as decent as all that,” he remarked, sounding far more like his old self. “I’m rather fond of myself, you know.”