Chapter 16 #3
Angel laughed, shaking her head. “I’m worried that you’re just… just infatuated. This has been a wonderful adventure, and I’ve loved every moment of it with you. But what happens when real life raises its head? Can you seriously see me playing hostess to all your friends and equals?”
He snorted, slanting a glance at her. “Love, have you met me? What kind of friends do you think I have? I’m not stuffy, and I can’t abide stuck up, poncy sods who look down on the rest of the world. So, I think you’ll do famously.”
A little stunned by this, Angel considered the other reason she had given Milly for why he couldn’t possibly consider her. “I shot a man, Leo, and I hit Mercy in the head with a plank of wood. Do you really think I’m the kind of woman who is suitable to raise your children?”
“Certainly,” he said without missing a beat. “I shall never fear for them when their fierce mama is near. Besides, children can wait a bit. We’ve got some travelling to do, some adventures to have before all that domesticity.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you’re just being stubborn and trying to seduce me by making it all sound so wonderful and simple,” she exclaimed, though her heart was thudding too hard, and she wondered why she was trying so hard to change his mind—but the thought of letting herself believe in his proposal, in the marvellous future he painted, and then finding out he’d made a mistake, that was too hard to bear.
He threw another massive clod of earth to the side and paused, handing her the shovel as he stripped off his coat. Exchanging coat for a shovel, he went back to work.
His tone was patient when he spoke again, but she did not miss the certainty of his words.
“Angel. The man you shot was trying to kill me, and Mercy was trying to scratch out my eyes after trying to kill you with a knife. I think in the circumstances you acted appropriately. Any other woman, of the kind my father would deem a suitable bride, would have swooned or run in the other direction when Bill tried to stab me, and I’d not be standing here.
You’re the one, sweetheart. You’re who I choose.
There’s only one thing to discuss, and that is whether you choose me? ”
Angel opened her mouth to say yes. Yes, she chose him, but before she could speak the word out loud, the sound of a pistol being cocked made them both freeze.
Angel’s heart, already excited by recent events, kicked erratically as a large shape moved in the darkness, just outside the spill of light from the lamp.
“Reckoned I’d find you ‘ere,” said a rough voice from the darkness.
“They almost got me at The Bull, but I’d gone out for a piss, see, so I saw the constable and his men afore they got inside.
Legged it, I did. Mercy thinks I ain’t none too clever, but I’m clever enough to know why there’s the law after me. ”
Though she could hardly breathe the terror thrumming through her held her lungs in such an iron grip, Angel forced herself to think, to be calm.
“Indeed, Stan,” she said as she turned and smiled at the man. “I am most impressed. Mercy underestimated your skill and daring.”
“Aye, she did that. But it’s an ill wind, I say. Reckon I’d rather split the loot one way rather than three.”
Angel laughed and stepped a little closer to him, aware of Leo’s low growl of warning. “Oh, well, of course you would. But the thing is, Stan, the treasure is mine. Black Jack gave it to me. You wouldn’t want his ghost to come and haunt you for stealing from his beloved granddaughter, would you?”
She kept her voice light and cajoling as she moved nearer, easing closer to him.
Stan snorted. “There ain’t no such thing as ghosts.”
Angel gasped, looking appalled, her hand going to her throat. “Oh, Stan! Oh, dear, you really ought not to say such things, not in a wicked place like this, where the ghosts of so many unhappy dead walk at night. You might wake them, and stir them up and—”
She took a deep breath, then screamed, pointing over his shoulder.
Stan jolted in shock. Eyes wide with alarm, he swung around, turning the pistol in the direction she pointed. The moment it faced away from them, Angel chucked Leo’s coat over his head.
Not needing to be told that this would be a suitable moment to act, Leo threw himself at Stan and bore him to the ground.
Momentarily blinded, shocked by the assault, the pistol dropped from Stan’s grasp with a dull thud, disappearing into the undergrowth.
Angel snatched up the lamp, holding it high to cast light on the struggle.
Stan recovered quicker than she might have hoped, wrenching the coat from his head and swinging a wild punch that caught Leo in the solar plexus. Leo grunted, hunching over, but rallied with remarkable speed, driving his shoulder into Stan’s chest and knocking him backwards.
Stan swore as his head smacked the ground, but it didn’t seem to slow him down. Bigger and heavier than Leo, he tried to use his bulk to his advantage, but Leo was quicker. They grappled, boots slipping in the damp earth, each man straining for dominance.
Stan got his hands around Leo’s throat, squeezing hard, his face screwed up in concentration as he tried to crush the life out of him.
Angel gasped, searching for something—anything—to help. Her fingers closed around the shovel’s handle, ready to clout Stan if necessary but Leo twisted, breaking Stan’s grip. He smashed his fist into Stan’s jaw and the man reeled back but recovered quickly and went for him again.
Taking her chance, Angel smacked him in the back with the shovel. Pain sang down her arms as it seemed to connect with a brick wall, not a man, and Stan turned towards her with a snarl. With a shriek, Angel danced back as Stan lunged for her, but Leo intercepted him, dragging him away.
The two men rolled, fists flying, grunts and curses filling the air until a shrill whistle cut through the night.
Gasping, Angel turned to see movement all around them, lanterns bobbing in the darkness as another whistle rang out.
“There, get them!” called a voice, which seemed to be taken up by everyone around them.
Stunned, Angel could only watch in disbelief. Stan, who was apparently more used to being chased by officers of the law—which Angel presumed these men must be—stumbled to his feet and legged it.
More whistles shrieked as men peeled off to give chase.
“Hold there! In the King’s name, drop your weapons and stand away from the grave!”
Angel gasped, daring to move closer to Leo, who was getting slowly to his feet. In the dim light of the lantern, she gazed up at him. His clothes were torn, he was covered in mud and blood, and his right eye was swelling shut.
“Oh, Leo, are you quite sure you want to marry me? I’ve brought you nothing but trouble,” she said desperately.
But he only laughed and reached for her hand. “Don’t you worry, love. We’ll be all right.”
The yellow glow of the lanterns moved closer, illuminating perhaps a dozen men advancing on them in a ragged line.
At their head strode a burly fellow with a battered tricorn hat and a staff of office—the headborough.
Behind him, two parish constables and several sturdy townsmen armed with cudgels and old muskets looked more than eager to do their duty.
“What’s this, then?” the headborough demanded, surveying the scene, which Angel suddenly realised looked dreadfully incriminating.
The open grave and the scattered shovels were going to be hard to explain away.
“Grave robbing, is it? And fighting over the spoils, eh? Lord above, you must be desperate, or foolish beyond permission to try that here. Don’t you know it’s criminals buried here, not one of them with a farthing to bless themselves with?
Not by the time they was laid in the ground, leastways. ”
Angel glanced at Leo, who was uncharacteristically quiet, and tried to explain. “No, sir, you don’t understand—”
“Save it for the magistrate, miss,” snapped one of the constables, grabbing her by the arm none too gently.
“Take your hands off her.” Leo’s voice rang out, cool and clipped, and an uneasy silence descended over the assembled company.
Angel stared at him in shock. He sounded like a stranger suddenly, like a man she might be afraid of if she didn’t know him so well.
The headborough, who had recognised the cultured tone the same as the rest of them, eyed Leo, taking in his muddy coat and dishevelled appearance, and the air of command that clung to him although he looked thoroughly disreputable. He nodded at the constable, who released Angel.
“Would you like to explain yourself, sir?” the headborough asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Not to you,” Leo replied, and Angel gazed at him, startled by the sound of his voice, so very changed from what she was used to. “You’d best take me to whoever is the authority around here if you don’t want to find yourself in a rather difficult situation.”
Though she had always known him to be a gentleman, no matter what he was pretending to be, she had never heard him speak like this. Arrogance and a sense of power radiated from him, his voice icy with contempt, making him sound like… like a nobleman. Her stomach knotted with anxiety.
There was a discreet cough from one of the constables.
“Mr Ludlow, sir—”
Having gained the headborough’s attention, the man drew him to one side. The two engaged in a rather urgent conversation, and though Angel could not hear a word of what was said, that they were talking about Leo was obvious from the way they kept sending anxious glances in his direction.
“Where’re Milly and Toby?” Angel whispered to him, still feeling uneasy until he looked down and smiled at her, his warm expression just the same as always.
“Hidden away if they’ve got a bit of sense. Don’t worry, we’ll meet up with them once this is all sorted out.”
“Sorted out?” Angel repeated, her voice somewhat higher than usual, though she kept the volume down. “We’re being arrested for grave robbing.”
She stared at him, uncertain whether to be alarmed or reassured by the amused expression that settled over his handsome face. “I know, love. You certainly know how to show a fellow a good time.”
“Leo! It’s not funny,” she exclaimed, wanting to shake him.
His lips quirked. “Oh, it’s a bit funny,” he insisted. “And about to become farcical if I know anything, but bear with me, love. It’ll all come out right in the wash, you’ll see.”
Cautiously, the headborough returned to them, eyeing Leo doubtfully. “Well, er… yes. If you’d both come with me, and… and we’ll see if we can’t get things, er… straightened out.”
Leo assented with a bored sigh. “As you wish, Mr Ludlow. Miss Everdene.”
Angel stared in consternation as Leo offered her his arm, just as if she were about to take a turn about the heath with him. Too bewildered to do otherwise, she took it, and Leo escorted her, flanked by a dozen armed men, until they arrived at the constable’s cart.
Here, Leo frightened away any of the constables foolish enough to consider helping her up into the cart, by dint of glaring at them, and lifted her by the waist as if she weighed nothing at all. Climbing in after her, he demanded that they provide her with blankets, as the night was cold.
“We’ll collect them on the way, sir,” Mr Ludlow said firmly before climbing up beside the driver. Six of the constables climbed into the cart with them to guard them en route to the nearest gaol or watch house, or so Angel presumed.
A man ran up, panting and breathless, just as the cart was about to move off.
“We’ve got him, sir. The big fellow. He tried to run, but your man here gave him such a thorough beating he weren’t up to it,” he said, gesturing to Leo with a grin.
“Excellent work, Jenkins. Take him to the watch house and keep him under guard until I return.”
“Yes, Mr Ludlow.”
With that, the fellow ran off again, and the cart jolted into motion.
“Well, at least Stan didn’t get away,” Leo said in satisfaction.
“Never mind him, what about us? Are we being taken to the watch house too?” Angel asked in an undertone.
Leo shook his head. “Doubtful.” He slid an arm around her, tugging her closer and Angel shivered, grateful for the heat of his big body as she snuggled against him.
“Where, then?”
“Farther afield, if I had to guess. I should get some sleep, Angel, it’s been the very devil of a day, and you’ll need your wits about you in the morning.”
Angel glowered at him, certain he was being mysterious on purpose. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Never mind that. Have you considered my question?”
“Oh, yes,” Angel said sardonically. “Between watching you dig up a grave, being held at gunpoint, and getting arrested, I’ve had plenty of time to consider.”
“Excellent! And?” He gazed at her expectantly.
Angel made a sound of frustration. “Oh, I could hit you.”
He pouted, and she laughed.
“Oh, or kiss you,” she relented, lowering her voice so the men dozing in the cart couldn’t hear her.
He grinned and tugged her a little closer still.
Angel sighed, resting her head upon his broad chest. Suddenly everything hurt.
All the scrapes and bruises she had been ignoring began throbbing at once, and the chilly night air seemed to bite through her clothes, which were damp and muddy.
Despite Leo’s assurances she could not help but worry about the amount of trouble they were in.
She frowned in consternation as she realised they were no closer to getting her grandfather’s treasure either.
In fact, every minute was taking them farther and farther away.
Feeling worn to the point of weeping, it was difficult to keep her voice steady as she whispered to Leo, “What shall we do about… about you know?”
He shrugged, and she felt the movement rather than saw it, as her eyes were growing heavy. “We’ll get it, sweetheart. Don’t you worry. You’ll have your grandfather’s inheritance, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Angel sighed, praying fervently that wouldn’t be the case, and allowed herself to give into exhaustion and fall asleep in his arms.