Chapter Eighteen #2
They ate what they could, George manfully removing a spot of mould from the cheese, and afterwards searched the room again for anything that might be used as a weapon.
There were some crumbled stones near the wall, but they were too small to be of any real use.
A broken plank, however, might serve, and George patiently showed Bella the best way to hold it and where she should aim if she needed to incapacitate one of their gaolers.
Throughout the lesson he used his hands to adjust her grip and move her into the right position.
They were rough against her skin, but also gentle and precise, and more than once she had to drag the attention of her treacherous body back to the matter at hand.
She noticed on occasion that his breathing quickened or that he cast a long glance towards her, but there was nothing more.
There seemed to be a silent agreement between them that whatever had begun between them must wait to be examined properly under the light of the outside world.
As evening drew in and the grey light entering through the small grimy window began to dull, Bella's stomach began to twist nervously.
They were really going to attempt this. It was not a novel and there was no guarantee that the heroine would make it out unharmed, or even make it out at all.
She found that she was less worried for herself than she was for George.
She knew him well enough by now to understand he would play the hero given half a chance and tell her to run while he stayed behind.
Bella made a firm resolve that she would do no such thing.
If they escaped, they would escape together.
When the clank of the lock came again, George arranged himself on the floor in an attitude of pitiful misery and let out a long groan that was so convincing Bella found herself looking twice.
When the door finally opened and their disobliging server entered, she threw herself into her own part of the performance.
"Oh, please, you must help us. You must help us. My companion is gravely ill. Please bring medicine or send for a doctor. Oh, I think he is dying. Please, sir, won't you help?"
The man looked confused, this deviation from his usual routine clearly throwing him off course, and he set down the tray before taking a cautious step towards George.
Bella clasped both hands dramatically to her chest and let out a wail, the height of which even Mina could not have hoped to reach in one of her worst childhood tantrums. All three men jumped.
"For pity's sake, stop your caterwauling," snapped the first.
"But he is dying!" Bella cried, pitching her voice even higher and dropping to her knees beside George, pressing her hands together in supplication. "Can you not see how terribly ill he is? Oh, what if it is contagious? What if I catch it and die? Please, you must fetch someone."
"It's nothing to me if he croaks," said the one standing furthest back.
The younger of the two had taken a step over the threshold and was twisting his cap nervously in his hands. "Sly ain't gonna be happy if we let him kick the bucket before he's even decided what to do with 'em, and you know we'll get the blame."
Bella let out another wail, causing all three men to turn sharply towards her. She had managed to bring real tears to her eyes and felt quite proud of her performance.
"Oh, for God's sake," said the third man as he strode properly into the room. "I've had enough of this. Let's have a look at him. Told you we should've got fresh water for 'em. If he's sick in here, who's going to clean it up? Muggins, that's who."
By then all three men were inside the cell and standing around and eying George warily as though he were a mangy dog they did not know what to do with. The first crouched down and caught George roughly by the shoulder.
"All right then, Mr Captain. Let's have a look at you."
George moved so quickly that Bella scarcely saw what happened.
One moment he was slumped on the floor and the next his fist connected with the man's jaw and sent him sprawling sideways.
The other two reacted at once, one lunging for George while the younger man turned towards Bella.
She had already taken up the plank, remembering George's instructions, but for one terrible second every rational thought left her mind.
Then the man reached for her and Bella reacted with blind instinct, swinging as hard as she could.
The plank caught him across the shoulder rather than the head, but it was enough to make him stagger and swear. He stared at her in furious surprise, and Bella had to bite back the apology that sprang to her tongue.
"Now don’t you think to be difficult, miss," he said with a growl.
That was all the invitation she needed. This time she struck him across the side of the head and he crumpled to the floor like an old dishcloth.
Bella stared down at him, her heart thudding wildly, before George called her name and dragged her attention back to the room.
He had managed to overpower one of the other men who was slumped against a wall and was blinking blearily.
But the man responsible for delivering their meagre meals had recovered and was now grappling with him on the floor.
George struck him hard, but the man was broader and heavier and managed to force him backwards.
Bella looked at them and then down at the plank.
In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought, and raised it above her head.
For what seemed like forever there was no clear place to strike without risking George.
The two men rolled across the floor, all elbows and boots and grunts of effort, until the larger man managed to force George onto his back and straddle him.
His hands closed around George's throat.
The captain gripped at his wrists, trying to wrench them away, but the man was heavier and had all his weight bearing down upon him.
His face had begun to redden. "A little help, Princess," he managed hoarsely.
Bella did not hesitate. She stepped closer, tightened both hands around the plank and brought it down squarely on the man's head. He went limp at once and slumped bonelessly across George's chest.
For several moments neither of them moved.
Three men lay in various states of unconsciousness around the room and Bella was still gripping the plank tightly in both hands.
George gave a breathless laugh from somewhere beneath his attacker and told her to remind him never to vex her while she was holding a blunt object.
Bella pointed out that he vexed her constantly, which only made him laugh again as, with some effort, he shoved the man off him and rolled onto his side before pushing himself to his feet.
He was still breathing hard when he reached her, and before Bella had quite realised what he intended, he caught her face between his hands and kissed her hard and fast. It was over almost as soon as it had begun, leaving her staring up at him with the plank still clutched against her skirts.
"What was that for?" she asked, a little breathlessly.
George glanced towards the door. "You are a marvel, that’s all, Miss Bella Darcy of Pemberley." He took the plank from her and dropped it to the floor, then reached for her hand.
Bella caught his sleeve before he could pull her away.
"The key." George stopped and looked back at the men.
They searched them quickly, Bella finding a handful of coins and a filthy handkerchief before George finally pulled a heavy iron key from the pocket of the youngest guard and held it up in triumph.
He pulled her out into the hall and quickly locked the door behind him.
The passage beyond was narrow and dark, but after several yards it opened into the rear of a much larger warehouse.
George stopped so abruptly that Bella nearly walked into him, then caught her around the waist and pulled her back into the shadows before she could step fully into view.
The place was busier than Bella had expected.
After so long in a confined space, with just one person for company, she had imagined the building to be equally dusty and drab.
But this place was full of noise and activity.
Lanterns hung from the great wooden beams overhead, throwing uneven pools of yellow light across rows of barrels, crates and sacks piled almost to the ceiling.
Men moved between them, some carrying boxes towards a set of wide doors at the far end while others rolled barrels across the rough floor or stood in small groups checking lists and calling instructions to one another.
Bella caught sight of bolts of cloth spilling from an open crate, bottles packed tightly into straw and several smaller boxes whose markings had been scraped away.
Somewhere beyond the main doors came the dull clatter of cart wheels and the shout of men striving to be heard over the sounds of the industry around them.
George drew her farther back into the passage and bent close to her ear, telling her to stay behind him and do exactly as he did.
If he stopped, she stopped. If he told her to hide, she hid.
Bella would ordinarily have objected to being ordered about in such a manner, but there were at least a dozen men between them and the nearest visible exit, so she merely nodded and tightened her fingers around his.