Chapter Fifteen
After ensuring the enemy hadn’t sabotaged The Silk Knuckles Saloon while she’d followed Edward around London, they cut across the lawn, scrambled through the shrubbery, and entered the church.
The intimidating building with its stone-faced statues of angels and saints seemed to judge Franny.
Fighting to take in a full breath of air, she gasped.
A lad whose chin probably hadn’t yet touched a razor, approached with a friendly, “Good day.”
“Good day,” Edward cheerily called. “We are looking for Vicar Williams.”
The lad looked Franny over, and his cheeks turned scarlet. His gaze dropped to his feet. “He is out back in the garden.”
What had the abhorrent man of God said about her to make this youth so ashamed in her presence?
“Are you the person who alerted the Thames Waterman?” Edward asked.
The lad slowly lifted his gaze. “I am. I ran as fast as I could.”
“Thank you,” Franny said. “You saved my gymnasium.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Is it true that I also saved Pete the Trojan?”
It seemed the shy lad had an interest in pugilism.
“You did,” Edward said.
The boy’s eyes lit up and his grin consumed his countenance. Yes, indeed. He had the look of one obsessed with the sweet science.
“Did you see any suspicious characters around The Silk Knuckles the night of the fire?” Edward asked.
“No.” The lad shook his head. “I used to watch the gymnasium a lot. I mean, before the fire.” He sighed. “But now I just attend to my duties.”
Undoubtedly, the nasty vicar took pleasure in snuffing the boy’s vitality and spirit. Franny should do something to protect him. Suddenly, a brilliant idea hit her. “Mayhap you could keep an eye out again and let us know if you see anyone skulking about. In return, I could give you boxing lessons.”
The boy’s eyes widened.
“Miss Valentine is quite skilled.” Edward pointed to his nose. “See this here.” He turned his head from side to side, displaying his profile from different angles. “She did this. I used to have a pretty face.”
Franny quite liked Edward’s more rugged features, especially when he grinned like he was right now. A childish giggle burst from her. Edward snorted, then chuckled.
The boy backed away. “Vicar Williams will be none too happy. He says women who fight have fallen further than Eve.”
Edward stiffened. The lethal fury radiating from him was so terrifying that it tempered Franny’s anger. They both needed to calm themselves since it wasn’t this unfortunate lad’s fault that the vicar was a prig.
“You don’t have to tell him,” Franny said. “It shall be our little secret. What is your name?”
Nibbling on his lip, the boy looked around the nave. There was no need, because the three of them were the only people in the church.
“Charlie,” he whispered. “I’ve always wanted to learn to box.”
Edward held a finger to his lips and mouthed, “We won’t tell a soul, Charlie.”
*
Vicar Williams turned from the flowers he pruned to frown at Edward and Franny. Undaunted, they approached unapologetically.
“Good day, vicar,” Edward said.
Franny couldn’t find it in herself to greet the man, so she returned his glower.
“I’m Edward Robinson with the magistrate’s court, and I want to ask you a couple of questions about the fire at The Silk Knuckles.”
“I already answered Mr. Baker’s questions,” the vicar said.
“Baker is an arse,” Franny said. And you’re a pompous bluenose.
Frowning, Edward sent her a pleading look. “Sir, I am following up. Please repeat what you told him.”
The vicar’s pale, thin lips formed a straight line, and just when Franny was about to throttle the words from him, he spoke. “I saw the flames and sent the boy—”
His name is Charlie, Franny thought fiercely.
“—to get the watermen. They arrived and put out the fire.”
“Did you see anyone strange lurking around the building?” Edward asked.
“Beyond the usual sinners that frequent that establishment?” The vicar wrinkled his nose as he flicked his wrist in The Silk Knuckles’ direction.
Rage so intense it made Franny’s eyeballs feel too large for their sockets shot through her. She lunged for the vicar, but Edward grabbed her around the waist and pulled her backward.
“Do you have any idea who started the fire?” Edward asked, a dangerous fury in his question, as his impressive strength held her in place.
“No,” the vicar said. “But leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’.”
Of course, he’d throw a Bible verse at them.
Fanny struggled in Edward’s grip but he held firm.
Too bad. The vicar wasn’t the only one who could use the Bible against people; if he were a smaller man with a weaker grip, she’d happily give the vicar a beating of biblical proportions.
Sometimes the Lord’s vengeance came through the hands of his people and not through divine address, Franny thought with satisfaction. At least in this case.
“Well that may be. And speaking of which, vicar, I will need the younger Mrs. Brown’s address,” Edward said.
The vicar’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“That is my business,” Edward said.
“I do not give out my parishioners’ information, especially to a godless one like her.” Williams pointed a long, spindly finger at Franny.
Edward’s jaw clenched until Franny thought his cheekbones might slice through his taut skin. It seemed she wasn’t the only one in that garden who posed a threat to the clergyman.
“ ’Tis not for her, it’s for me. And, since you insist upon knowing, it’s for the younger Mrs. Brown’s protection,” Edward said.
The vicar squared his shoulders and lifted his imperious nose. “She has the Lord and her husband to protect her. What could she possibly need from you?”
Franny would not spend one more second listening to this man’s poppycock. “Someone is beating on her,” she said. “In fact, it probably is her husband.”
“Shite.” Edward hissed in a breath.
If Edward was upset with her for telling the truth, so be it.
“ ‘Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands as unto the Lord’,” the vicar bellowed in a sanctimonious tone.
“ ‘For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the savior of the body. Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything.’ ”
Franny rolled her eyes. The drivel wouldn’t work on her since she wasn’t one of the vicar’s sheep.
“You would look the other way while one of your flock is being beaten?” she asked. “And by a bully who is bigger and stronger than her? How can you claim to be a man of God? How can you look in the mirror at the end of each day?”
“Leave my church immediately,” the vicar said. “And stay away from my parishioners. Both of you.” His eyes contained hellfire. “If you want a war, demon-possessed woman, I will give you a war.” He raised a fist. “And I will win because I have God on my side.”
“You bloody arrogant arse!” With every intention of inflicting pain, Franny lunged at the vicar.
Edward captured her fist, locking her arm behind her.
“Let go of me,” she spat from between clenched teeth.
The lawman effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder. “Come on, Athena,” he said. “You can fight the good fight another day.”
If he was comparing her to the goddess of war it was an apt reference, because she was not afraid to inflict bloodshed in this battle. “How dare you!” She pounded on Edward’s back as he carried her away from the upside-down, gloating vicar.