The Highwayman's Daughter (18 page)

How long she stood there, shaking with grief and terror, she couldn’t tell, but her misery was interrupted by a coarse voice.

‘That’s her! The Mardell girl. Get her!’

Cora swung around and saw three burly men bearing down on her.

‘Get her!’ one of them shouted again.

Wasting no time, Cora hoisted up her skirts and pushed through the throng. The three men dived into the crowd and did the same, but it was easier for one person to push through than for three, and this gave her a head start. She was under no illusion that she could outrun them and it seemed her only chance was to outwit them. If only she could reach Tyburn village, there would be plenty of places for her to hide.

When she was clear of the other spectators, she ran as fast as she could. She had no idea who these men were, but they clearly knew who she was. But why were they after her? Because of Uncle George’s fabled treasure? Just as well she’d thought to arm herself. She felt for her pistol in the pocket of her dress. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might leave her ribcage altogether, and she felt nausea rise in her throat.

Glancing over her shoulder, she checked to see if the men had caught up with her, and when she spied nothing, she dived into an alleyway. As she did so, her veil caught on a nail and was ripped off. She bolted down the alley, searching for a way out. There had to be a door, or a gate. Or at least a window she could climb through. Nothing.

With frantic hands she searched the brickwork in case she’d overlooked something, a hole or a gap to squeeze through, but the walls were solid and unyielding. At the end of the alley stood an old beer barrel. Hoisting up her skirts, Cora climbed onto the barrel and try to pull herself up on to the roof of one of the houses, but the roof tiles were slippery with moss, and she fell back down.

She heard a scuffing noise behind her and turned slowly, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She was trapped, and the only way out was blocked by the three men. One of them, a bow-legged, swarthy man, was holding the black veil in his hand.

‘No way out, li’l lady,’ he said, as they advanced slowly, menacingly. ‘You’ll have to talk to us.’

‘What do you want?’ She pulled her pistol out of her pocket and tossed her head in challenge. The men stopped, uncertain. Then one of them produced a knife. Grinning from ear to ear and showing off a set of blackened teeth, he tossed it from one hand to the other and caught it deftly. ‘Ho, the lady’s armed. What d’you say, lads – reckon she’ll fire?’

‘I will,’ said Cora. She pointed the pistol at each of the men in turn, willing her hand not to tremble. She’d never fired on another person before.

‘We only want to talk to you about Gen’leman George’s treasure,’ Blacktooth said.

‘I don’t know anything about that.’ Cora took a step backwards as they advanced on her again. What was the matter with them?
I’m pointing a pistol at them, for Heaven’s sake!

‘Aye, and William Pitt’s the king o’ England,’ Blacktooth said and spat a slimy string of tobacco juice on the ground. ‘We think you do.’

Cora shuddered with revulsion. ‘I don’t know where you get your information, but you’re wrong. There is no treasure, and if you come any closer, I’ll shoot.’

The men exchanged a quick look; then Bow-Legs laughed and pulled open his shirt, baring his chest. ‘Go on, then. Let’s see what yer made of.’

Cora swallowed. This time her hand trembled visibly

‘No treasure?’ Bow-Legs smiled, but his eyes remained firmly on her pistol hand. ‘’Ear that, Jimbo? Reckon the lass is telling the truth?’

Jim shook his head. He was a little younger than the other two, with greasy red hair and pimples on his cheeks. ‘I reckon not. George told me so hisself not long ago, and I reckon ’e’d know whether ’e had treasure or no.’

‘That was just the drink talking,’ said Cora. Panic mounted as she took another few steps backwards. ‘He liked his drink, and he liked telling stories.’

‘Don’t get clever with me, li’l lady,’ snarled Bow-Legs. ‘If Jim ’ere heard tell of treasure, I’ll take ’is word for it any day over the word of some harlot.’

‘Even if there was treasure, why would he tell me?’ asked Cora.

‘Because you’re Ned Mardell’s girl, and everyone knows ’e doted on you. We saw you kissing him and all. Lost him to the gallows? Poor lass, eh, but I reckon the three of us can make up for that.’

Suddenly, fast as a snake Bow-Legs knocked the pistol out of her hand and pinned her against the wall, his foul breath so hot on her face she had to cover her nose with her hand. She knew very well what he had in mind, and the thought of the likes of him touching her was nauseating.

‘No, please, I beg you! George told me nothing. You must believe me.’ And even if he had, she would never betray his trust to these men.

‘Well, maybe you do, maybe you don’t, but we’re gonna have a whole lot of fun finding out, aren’t we, fellas?’

Jim and Blacktooth grinned.

‘And it starts right now,’ said Bow-Legs. Twisting the black veil in his hand, he flung it over her neck like a makeshift noose and pulled her close, as if to kiss her.

Gagging, Cora acted on instinct and kneed him in the groin. He dropped to the ground like a felled tree, groaning. Before the others had time to react, Cora elbowed Blacktooth in the eye. Howling, he clutched his face, and Cora kicked him on the shin, then swung to face Jim.

Jim was faster. He caught her by the wrist, twisted her arm up behind her, and slammed her head against the brick wall of the alleyway.

Cora screamed with shock and pain. Then everything went black.

Jack galloped through Tyburn village, his horse’s hooves kicking up a cloud of dust behind him. Frantically he looked for any sign of Cora, but saw no one except a boy loitering by a horse trough.

‘You there! Did you see a lady in a yellow dress come this way?’

The boy pointed to an ale house across the street. ‘Yes, m’lord. She went down that way. Chased by three men, she were. Didn’t look too friendly.’

He surged forward with only one thought. Cora was in danger. He’d come to the hanging hoping that she might be there, showing support for another member of her highwayman fraternity. But no sooner as he’d spotted her in the crowd, she’d turned on her heels and run, followed by three burly men.

Jack spurred his horse in the direction the boy was pointing, and unsheathed his rapier. His blood ran cold when he saw Cora lying on the ground in a heap of yellow silk with her black curls spilling out over the dirt. Three men were standing over her; they must have been debating amongst themselves what to do next and didn’t notice him at first.

Raising his rapier, Jack spurred his horse forward and bore down on them. At the sound of the horse’s hooves, they turned and Jack saw their eyes widen as they recoiled. Unkempt and unwashed, these men were mere ruffians, and whilst it was easy enough attacking a woman, an armed man on a horse was quite a different matter.

Halfway down the alley he reined in the horse and allowed it to dance a little, its flailing hooves presenting as much danger as his rapier. ‘Leave the lady alone, or it’ll be the worse for you,’ he shouted. His words echoed off the walls of the narrow passage, making them sound louder than they actually were. The men jumped.

‘What the …?’ One of the men picked up a pistol lying on the ground, but Jack saw him and pulled out his own.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he growled. ‘I bet I’m a much better shot than you’ll ever be, even left-handed.’

The man hesitated and Jack nudged his horse into motion. ‘Go on, get out of here!’ he bellowed. Two of the men did as they were told without further thought, fleeing past him in fright. The third, who was still clutching the pistol, stood his ground for a moment, bolder than the others.

‘This ’ere ain’t no lady, s
ir
.’ He hawked a large gob of spit, which landed on the ground beside Cora.

Jack felt his temper flare with unexpected force, but he managed to control himself. ‘When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,’ he said coldly and whipped the pistol out of the man’s hand with a few deft moves of his rapier. Then he pointed the weapon at the man’s throat and saw him swallow nervously. ‘Now get yourself out of here before I decide to see just how much pressure the skin on your filthy neck can withstand.’ To emphasise his words he swiped the tip of the blade sideways, and the man gasped, touching the wound instinctively and then staring in horror at the smear of blood on his fingers.

‘It’s a scratch,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll live. Now, get you gone!’

The man bolted, staying close to the wall, and as he passed he shot Jack a look of pure hatred.

When he was certain that the men were gone, Jack knelt beside Cora. She was as still and pale as death, and his insides twisted in agony.

Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

In just a few short days she’d become the single most important person in his life, and he hadn’t even noticed it happening. Lusting after her had turned into wanting her respect, her affection, and a need to protect her. If she’d have him, he would commit himself to her, and devil take convention.

His lips moving in a silent prayer, he felt her neck for signs of life and relief washed over him when he detected a faint pulse. A dark contusion was forming on her temple, her hands were cut and bruised, her dress torn and she had lost one of her shoes, but she appeared otherwise unharmed.

Recalling the murderous expression on the ruffian’s face, Jack had a nasty feeling that the three men would soon return with reinforcements. He needed to get Cora away from here, but although his quick examination had revealed only superficial wounds, he had no idea just how hard a blow she had taken to the head. Taking her home to Lampton was out of the question, at least until she had been seen by a physician.

Gently he lifted her up in his arms, and a small moan escaped her.

‘Cora, my sweet,’ he whispered, ‘what have they done to you?’
And why?

Her eyelids fluttered briefly; then she opened her eyes. ‘Jack?’

He felt her body stiffen, her hands bracing against his chest. ‘Don’t fight me, Cora. Now is not the time for sparring.’

He read the wariness in her eyes, and something else too, something deeper. He couldn’t quite decipher it, but it had his nerve endings tingling with awareness. ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said. ‘You can trust me, Cora. You do trust me, don’t you?’

A pause, then her wariness subsided, and she relaxed against his chest. ‘Yes, Jack. Forgive me,’ she added in a whisper.

‘Forgive
you
?’ He pressed a kiss to her brow. ‘It is I who must beg your forgiveness.’

As he lifted her onto his horse, picked up the pistol, and then climbed up behind her, he cursed himself. Cursed himself all the way to Hell and back again.

The blame was his, and his alone. He had tried to persuade her that she could be a lady, as if her years of living in poverty had never happened. He had revelled in catching her and dressing her up but he had not thought about the possible consequences for her. In a wool dress and a plain bonnet she could blend in with the crowd, in her breeches and coat she could defend herself – as he’d learned to his cost – but wearing the silk dress of a countess she’d been fair game.

And he hadn’t been there to offer his protection when the inevitable attack occurred.

Shame stole over him as he realised what a fool he had been.
What were you thinking, Halliford? You great big lumbering idiot.

Even if they could persuade his father to give her an allowance, it wouldn’t change the differences between them. She’d understood it of course, had tried to tell him she could never fit into his world. And he didn’t want her to change. If he tried to change her, she wouldn’t be the Cora he had come to respect and admire. The woman he had come to love.

He had loved Cora from the moment she had pointed her rapier at his throat and stared at him with a ferocity which belied her beauty. He had tried to persuade himself that he had been driven by duty. And all the while he had been blind to the simple fact that his heart would beat faster in her presence, his breath shallow, his stomach tight.

Love, he thought again and glanced down at Cora, who slumped against him with her eyes closed. He tightened his grip and pulled her closer. A lock of black hair fell across her face and fluttered as she exhaled.

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked up at him with a faint smile on her lips. Jack could only guess at what she saw, but if his expression matched what was in his heart, she couldn’t fail to guess his feelings. Her strange, pale eyes widened and her lips parted. Desire shot through him. He wanted to bend his head and kiss her till he had no breath left in his body, to never let her go.

But first he wanted her somewhere safe. The three ruffians might return and take another stab at him, and what they wanted from Cora didn’t bear thinking about. He tightened his arm around her and checked his pistol was within easy reach.

‘Jack, I … I …’ she began, but then trailed off, chewing her bottom lip.

‘Yes, my l— Cora?’ he said. Now was not the time for declarations.

‘I, er … I don’t feel well.’

‘What?’ Jack’s bubble burst abruptly. ‘Oh, dear God!’

Just in time, he swung her sideways and held her over the horse’s flank as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Again and again she heaved until it seemed there could be nothing left inside her, drawing the unwelcome attention of a few passers-by who were returning from the hanging. Finally she sat up, pasty-faced yet determined, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

‘Apologies, I would have passed you my handkerchief if I’d been fast enough,’ he said.

Cora smiled sheepishly. ‘I think I could still do with it.’

Laughing, Jack dug inside his breast pocket. ‘I’ll say this, Cora – life’s anything but dull around you.’

She glared at him and wiped her hand and her mouth one more time; then held the handkerchief out to him. ‘Keep it,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘You might need it again.’

‘I’m all right,’ she protested.

‘Cora, you’ve taken a blow to the head. How serious, I don’t know, but judging from the violence of your sickness just now, it might have caused some damage in your brain. You need to be checked by a physician.’