Lies and Misdemeanours (10 page)

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Authors: Rebecca King

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #romantic suspense, #mystery, #historical fiction, #historical romance, #historical mystery, #romantic adventure

BOOK: Lies and Misdemeanours
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Given that it was too dark to see if anyone was following them, they made their way out to the meeting place and settled into the shadows so that they could study the area more closely.

 

Dawn was about an hour away when Hetty climbed wearily out of bed. She was still exhausted, and worried sick about her brother and Charlie.

Having spent most of the night tossing and turning, and listening to Mabel’s snores, it was a relief to be able to get moving again and have something other than her rather melancholic thoughts to focus on.

If I have to dig a tunnel and crawl out, then I am going to get out of this blasted place and never come back,
she thought to herself as she quickly drew her shawl on and pulled back one of the shutters so she could peer out into the street outside.

Nothing moved. There were no whistles, or calls from the search parties; not even birds in the trees sang.

Hetty’s heart fell to her feet as she strained to hear any sound of the continued searches. To her consternation, she couldn’t hear anything other her own breathing.

Over the course of the night, she had grown so used to hearing the random calls and barking dogs that she couldn’t remember when they had stopped.

Had Charlie and Simon been caught? Her stomach dropped to her toes. She took a moment to rest her already cool head against the cold window frame. She sent a silent prayer heavenward that the men would remain safe, and tried to find comfort in the silence, but it was difficult given that it was impossible to tell if the convicts had been caught, or the search area had just widened.

“Mabel,” she whispered. “Come on, it’s time to get up. It will be light soon and we need to get out of here.”

The urgency in her voice seemed to shatter the old woman’s slumber because Mabel suddenly snapped awake. Although she was evidently still half-asleep, she still heaved herself out of bed and began to look for her boots.

“I am coming dearie, keep your hair on,” Mabel grumbled around a wide yawn.

Hetty stood at the window and studied the road while she tried to decide what to do. If they went out onto the main road and walked in the direction they needed to go, they would have to pass the jail. It would be right under the noses of the jailers, and the most audacious thing she could do. Unfortunately, she had no choice now because she wasn’t familiar with the town enough to know if there was an alternative back route through the alleyways that meant they could stay out of sight.

The thought that she would be able to see Simon and Charlie again, in the flesh, with her own eyes, was more than enough to give her the strength and determination she needed to get through the next few hours. She turned to face the room, and Mabel, with renewed determination.

“Right, we are going to get out of here once and for all today,” she declared as she marched across the room, yanked open the door, and waved Mabel toward the hallway. “Let’s go.”

Mabel stared at her. “What’s come over you today?”

“I am not going to be cowed by Cedric Meldrew,” Hetty snapped. “That’s all.”

Before she could say anything else though, Mabel yanked her back into the room, then closed and locked the door.

“Let’s do something about that mop of yours before we go outside, shall we?” Mabel declared pointedly. “If you leave with your hair as it is, you will be spotted as soon as you appear in the doorway.”

Hetty opened her mouth to speak only to be shoved down into the rickety looking chair before the cold fireplace. She watched as Mabel scooped up a handful of ash out of the grate and dutifully leaned forward in the chair when Mabel ordered her to. Before Hetty could object, the old woman rubbed her soot laden hands through Hetty’s silken hair, rendering it absolutely filthy, and a completely different colour.

She wished she had a mirror so she could see the outcome for herself, but had to rely on Mabel’s satisfied nod instead.

“Pin it up and cover it with your shawl.” She waited only until Hetty did as instructed before she turned to the door. “Come on then, let’s go.”

Stunned, Hetty pushed cautiously at her hair and tried not to sneeze when a dust cloud appeared in front of her face. She hurried after her friend, positive that she now had a dirty face to go with her grubby hair, but was unwilling to stop in the tavern long enough to check.

As she stepped out onto the main street, the town had already begun to come to life. Dawn had only just started to chase the night away, and cast the buildings and empty streets into shadows of different hues.

Although it was still a little difficult to see, there was enough light to guide them without a lantern.

Hetty heaved a sigh of relief at being able to get on their way again, and hurried in the direction of Hemsley.

“Oh, Good Lord,” Mabel whispered as they turned the corner into the main street, and spotted the gallows still outside the jail.

They shared a look before they ducked their heads and hurried past the macabre structure.

“Keep going,” Mabel urged as they walked past the jail, and headed deeper into town.

“What do we do?” Hetty whispered as they turned the corner at the end of the road and saw a group of jailers walking toward them.

“Keep walking,” Mabel sighed. “We have got to go in that direction. We can’t go all the way around or we will get lost.”

“We have to pass them,” Hetty whispered.

“We can’t turn around and hurry away. That will look suspicious,” Mabel chided.

“’Ere, where are you two going?” One of the jailers suddenly called.

Hetty froze in mid-step, and turned wide eyes on the group of men as they walked toward her. She shared a look with Mabel, who suddenly looked wary.

“We are off to work,” Mabel replied. “We are going to be late if we don’t get a move on.”

Lost for words, Hetty nodded and ducked her head to move past them only for one of the jailers to block her path.

“Where do you work?” The man demanded suspiciously. He ducked his head so he could see Hetty’s face.

Hetty looked up at him and frowned. She didn’t know the town, so didn’t know any of the tavern names. Her mind raced. She looked askance at Mabel, but daren’t speak. It took all of her strength to keep her face as blank as possible while she waited to see what they were going to do.

“We work for the Sunderland’s across town. I am their housekeeper. This here is Dotty, their scullery maid. If we don’t go now we are going to get our wages docked,” Mabel warned darkly.

She grabbed Hetty’s elbow and shoved her roughly around the group of men. “Unless you are going to arrest us for going to work, you need to get out of our way and let us get on with it.”

This time, when they tried to resume their journey, the men let them pass. However, they remained where they were and watched the women walk down the road.

“We don’t look suspicious, do we?” Hetty whispered. “Why did they stop us?”

“We don’t look suspicious,” Mabel assured her. “They are just stopping everyone.”

“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this,” Hetty chanted quietly as they hurried away.

“Shut up,” Mabel growled. “Just keep walking. Stay calm. Keep quiet. Everything will be alright.”

When they turned out of the end of the road, Hetty took the opportunity to glance behind her. To her consternation the jailers were following them.

“Oh no, they are coming after us. What do we do now?” She glanced worriedly at Mabel, who looked equally as panicked, but neither of them stopped walking.

“We should have gotten out of town yesterday while there were lots of people around to hide in,” Hetty whispered harshly. “Why are they following us? Why us?”

She watched Mabel glance suspiciously at her hair, and sneezed.

“Please don’t do that again,’ Mabel moaned. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Your hair colour is coming through the soot. When you move, a dust cloud settles over you.”

Hetty’s stomach flipped. She had never felt so helpless in all of her life. Not even yesterday, when she had done what she had to protect her husband and brother.

“Keep walking. Just keep walking.”

“Oi!”

“Keep walking,” Hetty whispered and locked arms with Mabel, whose step faltered as the sound of the order behind them.

“Oi! Wait up.”

The women looked at each other, but continued to walk.

“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” Mabel growled.

They came to a main road that was becoming increasingly busier as the day began in earnest. A large brewers cart rumbled toward them, mere feet away. The sound of footsteps running up behind them made Hetty panic. She grabbed Mabel’s elbow in a firm hold as she studied the road in front of her in search of a way out of danger.

“Come on, run,” she cried suddenly. She didn’t stop to see if Mabel was going to comply. She dragged her friend behind the brewer’s cart, dangerously close to another cart right behind it.

“’Ere, watch out,” the driver cried as Mabel and Hetty dodged in front of his horses, and wove their way around the miller’s cart heading in the opposite direction as they raced down the opposite side of the road.

She glanced at Mabel, who struggled to keep the pace that Hetty had set. It was evident that the speed they were going was far too much for the older woman and, in spite of the fact that everything within her screamed at her to run and keep running as fast as her legs could carry her; she slowed her pace to a fast walk.

“We have to get out of here,” Hetty gasped.

They needed to find somewhere - anywhere - they could hide out for a while until the jailers left the area. She glanced behind them but, to her horror, saw three jailers heading toward them, and three more on the other side of the road.

“This way,” Mabel gasped and hurried down a side alley. “I can remember going this way once before. I was a child mind but, if I am right, this back alley takes us out to the right side of town. We should be able to cut through it, and won’t have to double back and risk passing them again. If we can get to the river, we can find a way down the towpath to the fields. We are at least heading in the right direction.”

Hetty couldn’t argue. She had no idea where they were. If it wasn’t for Mabel, she would be hopelessly lost by now, or sitting in Derby jail awaiting a visit from Meldrew.

Relieved that the older woman was with her, Hetty kept quiet and followed.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Charlie hefted the coal sack over his shoulder, and tried to appear nonchalant in spite of the tension that reverberated through him. Thankfully, the coal merchant was behind the house and didn’t see him. He kept his back toward the jailers as they ran past in pursuit of two women who were practically running in the opposite direction.

Although he had only briefly caught sight of their quarry, he felt fairly certain he knew who it was.

He frowned and watched the jailers disappear down an alleyway between two shops. He could only presume that the alley would come out at the back of the shops, and the women would appear beside him at any moment. If they were trying to avoid their pursuers, they had just succeeded in leading them in a large circle. That was fine; and would work, as long as the jailer’s didn’t double back on themselves.

A thrill of anticipation swept through him at the thought that there were two women the jailers were looking to speak to, and two women who he desperately needed to see with his own eyes.

In spite of the tension that reverberated through him, he casually propped his shoulders against the wall, tugged his hat low to cover his face, and waited.

Being in Derby felt a little like putting his neck in the hangman’s noose, but he had to risk it. The thought of having to sit at Afferley, and wait for his colleagues to return was something he couldn’t even think about. Hetty needed him; and he had to be there for her.

Thankfully, his patience was rewarded when the women appeared on the path next to him.

Charlie pushed away from the wall and followed them across the road. He kept his distance until they were well away from the alley. As he passed it, he glanced down the narrow gap, and saw the jailers heading toward them at a half-run. A surge of jubilance swept through him when their progress was temporarily halted by the sudden appearance of an elderly woman who had come out of her yard to see what all the fuss was about.

Determined that Hetty wouldn’t escape him this time, Charlie tugged the back of what he fervently hoped was her shawl, and watched with relief when she gasped and spun around.

“Hello,” he smiled. In spite of the dangers of their current situation he couldn’t prevent the grin that broke out on his face as he watched stunned disbelief on her face. He felt strangely humbled at the look of sheer joy that swept over her as soon as she saw him.

The urge to sweep her into a hug was strong, but he daren’t – not yet. Danger was too close.

“Charlie?” She whispered. “Charlie? You are safe.”

“Come on.” He didn’t bother to give her the chance to say anything else. He grabbed her hand and practically dragged her down the busy road.

Mabel opened her mouth to speak only to close it again when Charlie threw her a warning look. His hand in the small of her back propelled her ahead of him. While ushering Mabel before him as fast as she could go, he dragged Hetty’s shawl off her shoulders, and threw an arm around her to pull her against his side. He shoved her shawl at Mabel, and ordered her to hide it beneath hers.

“Change your appearance a bit,” he growled darkly.

Mabel didn’t object, and immediately twirled the two shawls together to make a kaleidoscope of colour before she dragged them around her ample waist.

Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest. “Keep walking straight ahead. Steady pace. Don’t stop for anything. Turn right at the top of this road. We are going to head back toward the outskirts of town.”

“You took an incredible risk coming here,” Hetty warned in a voice that was barely a whisper. “Where is everyone?”

“They are around here somewhere,” he sighed. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a strange noise behind them.

Charlie risked a quick look back, and let out volley of curses that would have blistered the ladies’ ears, if they hadn’t been so darned scared at the sight of the now large group of men pelting down the road after them.

“Go,” he ordered. “Go.”

He pushed Mabel ahead of him firmly in an attempt to get her to quicken her pace. The older woman suddenly began to run, but was nowhere near as fast as the jailers.

He knew that it was inevitable that the jailers were going to catch up with them within seconds if he couldn’t think of anything to get them out of their current predicament. He couldn’t leave her behind but, at the rate they were going, capture was inevitable.

“Mabel,” Barnaby called casually from his position in the shadows to the left of them.

“Oh, thank you Lord,” Mabel whispered fervently as she spied Barnaby, holding out a cloak for her.

Before she could say anything else, Charlie pushed her toward his colleague, and she was immediately encased in the lengthy folds of the huge cloak. With the hood pulled up, the old woman simply vanished.

Charlie slowed his pace long enough to nod to Joshua, who was waiting with two horses to lead the old woman to safety. Satisfied that at least one woman was safe, Charlie gave Hetty a measured look.

He frowned and turned his head to see what she was staring at. His curse was bitter when he spotted Marcus, further down the road, locked in a raging argument with a farmer whose cart was effectively blocking the road.

“Charlie,” Joseph whispered. “Take the right, third house to the left.”

Charlie opened his mouth to speak but Joseph had already nudged his horse into a trot. Thankfully, Barnaby and Mabel had vanished.

“They have gone,” Hetty whispered in astonishment. She watched the three riders, whom she knew to be Barnaby, Mabel and Joshua, walk slowly down the road as though they didn’t have a care in the world. If she didn’t know it was them, she would not have given them a second glance.

It was a wonderful relief to know that her friend was free at last. Now that she didn’t have the added responsibility for someone else’s welfare to worry about, she was free to fret about her own – and Charlie’s. His welfare was more important than hers because she knew that if Meldrew got his hands on Charlie a second time, there would be no hope of escape.

“Come on,” Charlie urged, and guided her to the house Joseph had pointed to.

They hurried in that direction; aware that Marcus’ argument with the farmer had grown considerably louder, to the point that Charlie wondered if his colleague was going to start throwing punches. A grin slid over Charlie’s face when Marcus suddenly looked knowingly at him before he returned to the argument and, once again, increased the volume to a dull roar.

The diversion appeared to work because the jailers slowed their run to a steady walk as they studied the men, and assessed the chances of a brawl starting. It was enough. Charlie put one hand in the small of Hetty’s back and hurried her down the side road. 

“What are we going to do?” Hetty cried, oblivious to the machinations of the Star Elite.

Charlie grinned at her, apparently completely unperturbed by their predicament.

“Look.” He nodded to the left of them.

About half-way down the lane, inside a small courtyard, were two saddled horses, ready and waiting to take them to safety. Just to the side of them were two riders; Brendan and Luke, who were cloaked, already mounted, and ready to run.

Hetty was amazed when Brendan and Luke grinned at Charlie, winked at Hetty, then tugged their hoods higher before they thundered out of the yard. Charlie quickly closed the doors behind them and slid the bolt across for good measure.

The speed in which they raced down the road immediately drew a loud blast of a whistle from the jailers who, sensing their quarry, began to shout orders as they tried to give chase on foot.

Pandemonium on the other side of the gates reigned supreme for several moments, until the jailers realised that they were hopelessly outmatched.

“It’s alright,” Charlie assured her as they listened to the jailers ordering everyone to fetch the horses. “Just put this on.” He dragged the large cloak off the saddle of one of the horses and draped it carefully over her shoulders. He tugged the hood up over her tell-tale hair.

When she turned to mount the horse, he stopped her.

“It will be alright. Just stay close to me,” he pleaded quietly. He placed a tender kiss on her lips and rested his forehead against hers. “Trust me on this, Hetty. I won’t let you down.”

Hetty nodded. Her fingers clung to the soft material of his shirt while they listened to the sound of men running toward them. Her heart hammered loudly in her throat, and she heaved a sigh of relief when Charlie’s warm palm settled over her clenched fist.

“Trust me,” he mouthed.

She clung to his strength, and waited for the inevitable. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but didn’t know where to start. She couldn’t focus her mind on anything other than the horrifying possibility that at any moment the gate was going to slam open, the yard they were in would be swamped full of jailers, and Charlie was going to be dragged off to his death.

A sigh of relief swept through both of them when the footsteps thundered past without stopping.

“Oh, thank you Lord,” Hetty whispered as the noise receded and peace was restored once more.

Charlie stared at her beautiful face. The urge to kiss her was strong, but the need to get out of there was stronger. He knew that the passion that shimmered between them would be allowed to surface later, once they had reached safety, and could talk about the future he knew now that they were going to share – together.

“I don’t know about you, darling,” he whispered. “But I really don’t want to wait around to see if they are going to come back.”

“Me either,” she replied. She offered him a quivering smile that failed to meet her eyes. She tried to turn her gaze away only for him to place a fingertip beneath her chin, and tip her face up so that he could look into her eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Let’s get out of here,” she sighed. “Please?”

“Good idea,” he murmured. He was aware that she had evaded his question, and suspected that she was far from alright, but wanted her to know that he was worried about her. Rather than challenge her, he nodded toward the horses. “I hope you can ride.”

Thankfully she nodded. He quickly lifted her into the saddle and quickly mounted the second horse.

With the calls from the jailers disappearing after Brendan and Luke, Charlie looked at Hetty.

“Your mare should follow my horse. Whatever you do, just keep riding. Follow me and don’t stop. If anything happens, don’t stop to help me. I can get myself out of here. It is imperative that you do the same.” He patted the gun on his hip. “Whatever you think you hear. Whatever you think might be happening. Just focus on staying out of their clutches, Hetty.”

Hetty nodded but didn’t speak. She had no intention of abandoning him. Not now; not after everything they had been through.

He seemed to realise this. “Promise me now,” he demanded. He refused to leave the yard until he had her devout promise.

“I promise,” she replied reluctantly.

He studied her for a moment and considered whether to argue with her. For some strange reason, although she had said the words he wanted to hear, he rather suspected that she had just lied to him.

“Come on then. Our challenge awaits us,” he declared with an unrepentant grin.

He leaned forward in his saddle and slid the bolt back. The door swung silently open. They tore out of the courtyard, and raced toward the outskirts of town as though the hounds from Hell were right behind them.

In some ways, in spite of the fact that it was inevitable they would be seen, it was a relief to finally be on their way toward freedom.

“We are going to take a winding route away from here,” Charlie called once they reached the outskirts of town. “Then we are going to head to the safe house.”

He glanced across at her wind-flushed cheeks and the long, flowing strands of silken hair that had broken free of the tight bun tucked in the nape of her neck, and felt his heart lurch.

She looked utterly glorious with her hair cascading out behind her. Like a slender Boudicca leading her army to battle. His heart swelled with pride at her strength, and calmness in the face of crisis; her bravery and determination to do what was right, whatever the cost to herself.

Suddenly, his horse stumbled. The sudden jolt of it beneath him forced him to turn his attention back to the matter at hand.

It was then that his gaze was drawn to movement on the horizon behind them.

“Damn it all,” he cursed at the sight of the ten or so jailers teeming out of the side road after them.

He studied their surroundings, but couldn’t see anyone ahead of them just yet. He had no idea where Luke and Brendan were, but suspected that they had left the area completely by now given the speed they were riding. He could only hope that the rest of the jailers were still chasing them.

“We are going to get cut off,” Hetty cried as she glanced behind her and saw what had brought the worried to his eyes.

The heavy thundering of the horse’s hooves on the hard track was recklessly thrilling, and called to a wildness that seemed to be hidden deep inside her that she had never realised even existed. For one heady moment, she wanted to shout aloud with sheer enthusiastic joy of being free, but then the darkness of their serious situation stole it away again, and replaced it with fear and worry.

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