Chapter 17 #2
“Tell me what to do,” Edwina told him, ignoring the boy and woman for now. Whatever their purpose, they had to wait.
Murry gritted his teeth. “I need something to…” — he grunted beneath the opposing force – “secure this. Some rope, a leather cord…anything.”
Edwina swept the surrounding area with her gaze, but before she could manage to find something useful, the woman shoved a voluminous garment into Edwina’s arms. Without breaking her stride, she continued toward Murry while pulling a sash from around her waist in one fluid motion.
“This should do the trick,” she said, already tying one end around the doorknob. Once this was accomplished, she pulled the other end tightly upward, toward a mounting bracket that held a large lantern, except she couldn’t quite reach.
“I can’t hold them off much longer,” Murry hissed.
Edwina turned, searching the courtyard with her eyes until she spotted a wooden bucket that stood beneath a water pump.
Tossing the garment she’d been handed, Edwina ran to collect the bucket, then raced back to the woman. She set the bucket beneath the spot the woman was trying to reach, then placed her right hand on the woman’s shoulder and positioned one foot on the bucket’s thick edge.
Empty as it was, the bucket tilted slightly beneath Edwina’s weight, and she sucked in a breath. She quickly brought up the second foot while setting her left palm against the wall for added stability. And expelled a sigh of relief when she found her balance.
Moving her hand away from the wall, she caught the mounting bracket and held on tight.
“Please hurry,” Murry groaned.
“Keep it as tight as you can,” Edwina told the woman while taking hold of the sash’s loose end. She wound it around the mounting bracket, tying it through several times to ensure it would hold. “All done.”
She leapt to the ground in time to see Murry carefully backing away from the door, as though prepared to rush back in to secure it. For now, however, the sash seemed to hold.
“We have to go,” he said, not taking his eyes off the door, behind which the men still shouted and yelled. “They’ll get through eventually or else they’ll retreat to the front of the building and circle around.”
“Surely your pistol will be enough to deter them if they do,” Edwina said, reminding him that he had a weapon at his disposal.
“It’s the one Henshaw fired upstairs so it’s no longer loaded.”
Murry’s revelation increased Edwina’s panic. The threat he’d issued earlier had been empty and probably wouldn’t work twice. “Dear God.”
“Like I said,” Murry told her, “we need to leave.”
“There’s a hackney waitin’ fer ye in the street,” said the boy while the woman snatched up the garment Edwina had tossed aside earlier.
“The cloak you requested,” she said, addressing Murry while throwing it over Edwina’s shoulders. A hood was promptly pulled over her head.
“Thank you, Mrs. Greene.” Murry’s hand caught Edwina’s, urging her to come with him while adding, “I’ll be sure to repay you later.”
They started toward the street.
“There’s really no…”
The last of what Mrs. Greene said was lost to the street noise as they left the courtyard. Pedestrians strode on past, ignoring Edwina and Murry who crossed the pavement and approached the awaiting carriage.
“Number 5, Portman Square,” Murry informed the driver. He handed Edwina up into the cabin, then climbed in behind her and pulled the door shut. “You’ll receive a hot bath and clean clothes when we arrive at Croft House, after which we’ll send for your brother.”
He dropped to the opposite bench and the carriage set off.
Edwina sank against the squabs, tears of relief filling her eyes. They’d done it. They’d evaded capture, possibly worse, but what did that mean, exactly?
She’d no idea, but she realized she was shaking all over. Not from cold, but because of the awful awareness of what might have happened to her had Murry not arrived when he did. The killing she’d done without even blinking.
Although she’d managed to wipe Mr. Grover’s blood from her hands, she could still feel it there. Sticky and wet.
“If it’s any consolation,” Murry said, his voice gruff, “you did what you had to back there.”
The understanding she found in his words nearly undid her. He’d clearly sensed the cause of her distress, though only part of it.
A quivering breath vibrated all the way up her throat. She would soon return to Wrengate House, to Sebastian.
Her heart stuttered at the realization of what this meant.
There would be questions. Her brother would want to know every detail of what had occurred.
A flash of memory filled her mind’s eye, of Mr. Grover’s mouth over hers, of the smoke she’d been forced to inhale.
Her stomach clenched and the shivering worsened.
If only she had that pipe with her now, to help calm her nerves.
What she would not give for a brief moment of oblivion — a chance to escape what came next.
“I can’t,” she muttered, the words clawing their way past her lips.
If Murry heard her, he didn’t respond. She glanced toward him and frowned. His eyes were closed behind the mask he still wore and he sagged against the side of the cabin as though all his strength were depleted.
The sight unsettled her. In fact, now that her senses were focused on him, she also realized his breaths were ragged. Not normal. Something was wrong.
“Mr. Murry.” She spoke above a whisper, though not quite as loud as she normally would.
He answered with a grunt while squinting one eye in her direction.
“Are you unwell?” she asked, her own concerns completely forgotten for now.
The carriage bounced over uneven ground and Murry winced. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sound like you’re in pain,” she said, searching his body for possible wounds but finding none. Perhaps he’d hurt his hands while holding that door closed?
“It’s nothing,” he muttered and shut his eyes once more. “I’ll deal with it after we reach our destination.”
The comment made her stomach tighten with increased foreboding. The tremors pricking her skin intensified. “Please don’t make me go home.”
Both of his eyes shot open. “What?”
“I cannot face my brother like this.” Oh, God. Sebastian would blame her for what had happened and then he’d marry her off to the first respectable option, just to ensure her reputation remained intact. “He’ll do what he thinks best, which will surely wreck me even more.”
“To oppose him would be to oppose Mr. Croft,” Murry rasped. He paused for a moment, then added, “I cannot do that.”
Her throat closed in response to those words, and the tears that had welled in her eyes spilled over. “My brother will never forgive me for this.”
She knew it in her heart, as surely as she knew her own name. With Ryan missing and Claire’s affliction, the family’s continuation fell upon her and Sebastian. It was vital neither compromise that, yet she’d stupidly chosen to go for a walk unescorted.
“Your brother is a hard man,” Murry said, his voice weak, “but he cares for you. Enough for me to believe that you’re wrong.”
“I’m not.” There would be rage for her to contend with if she returned home, along with the guilt she’d be forced to endure every day for the rest of her life.
And what of Claire?
How could Edwina return to her and not tell her what had transpired? Yet how could she share the experience she’d had, knowing that Claire would forevermore look at her differently?
No matter how the story got told, Edwina would be a victim. Not the heroine who thwarted the monsters, but a foolish girl whose only visit to London had ended in utter disaster.
The only way to change that, was for her to alter the narrative.
Somehow, before she returned to her family, she would have to make a success of herself. If she could only find a way in which to prove her intelligence, she might be able to blot out this awful lapse in judgement completely.
She’d write to them and ensure them she was well, then forge a new path.
But how?
As tempting as the idea was, it seemed equally impossible to achieve.
The carriage rounded a corner and she recognized Soho Square. They were approaching Mayfair fast. She’d soon lose her chance.
Keeping silent, she scooted closer to the side of the carriage. Eyes on Murry, to ensure he paid no attention to her, she undid the latch on the door, then placed her hand on the door handle. He still didn’t blink and Edwina leaned forward, peering out the window while biding her time.
It took a couple of minutes, but then the carriage approached an intersection and proceeded to slow. She waited a moment, attempted to block out the near-painful beat of her heart, then pressed down the handle and flung the door open.
In one swift movement, she’d leapt from the seat. She stood in the opening, ready to jump. Her body moved forward. She pushed off her feet. And was yanked back with so much force it felt like her brain was turned inside out.
The door slammed shut and Edwina blinked.
She was no longer standing or sitting, per se, but awkwardly sprawled in Murry’s lap.
He peered down at her with brutal criticism in his dark gaze. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”