The Smuggler and the Society Bride (8 page)

T
he cry resonated deep within her…an echo of the one she'd heard issuing from her own throat that infamous night. Praising the Lord it was still full daylight and certain there must be other people about, she looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the scream.

Hearing a second cry, she looked down the hill toward the port and spotted a girl outside a small stone hut, struggling in the grip of one man while another loomed close by. The girl, she realized suddenly, was Laurie Steavens, little Eva's sister.

Honoria looked quickly up and down the street again, but found it deserted. She might run back into the draper's shop, the closest dwelling to the spot where she now stood, but could she persuade the merchant to come with her to the girl's aid before the man holding her, with the help of his accomplice, carried her off?

Honoria didn't think so. All the pain and anguish of struggling vainly in a determined man's grip flooded back, and she knew she couldn't simply turn away and abandon Laurie.

Wishing herself back on the beach where she might find some wrecker's driftwood, or back in wooded country, where some convenient nearby tree might offer up a limb she could use for a club, after a moment's hesitation during which she
debated whether or not to proceed with no weapon at hand, Honoria charged down the hill.

There were only two men, she thought as she hurried closer, and there must be sailors about somewhere in the port below. If she halted a safe distance away and added her screams to Laurie's, surely they could rouse someone to come to her aide.

‘You, there,' she yelled as she approached. ‘Release that girl immediately or I'll have the magistrate on you!'

Though the man didn't loosen his hold, he did turn toward her. ‘What's it to you, wench, if we want a little sport?' he called back in slurred voice. ‘Prepared to pay 'er for it, ain't we, Hal?'

The fact that one of the reprobates bore her beloved brother's name incensed Honoria even further. ‘Since she does not appear to be interested in accepting your offer, let her go.'

The man called Hal, tall and skinny, squinted at her appraisingly. ‘Golden-haired gel looks mighty fine, Davy. How's about I take her 'n leave you this one?'

The second man sounded as bosky as the first. In fact, he swayed on his feet when he turned, almost falling over.

If they were both cast away, a good shove on this steep slope might be enough to dispatch them. With no help yet in sight, Honoria took the chance of coming closer. ‘It's the two of you that will be leaving. Come, Laurie!' She darted to the side of the girl away from the ruffian, grabbed her other hand, and jerked hard on it.

The first man held on with surprising strength, while Hal lurched in her direction. ‘You come along, too, sugar-tit. Ol' Hal'll make you happy.'

‘Miss, step away afore they grab you!' Laurie cried.

But Honoria hadn't grappled in impromptu wrestling matches with her older brother for naught—sessions which would have earned her a vociferous scolding if Mama or her governess had learned of them. She might not have Hal's science, but he'd taught her to give a fair accounting of herself.

So when the ruffian Hal got close enough for her to smell his liquored breath, Honoria struck him a right uppercut with as much force as she could muster.

She must have hit bone, for her fist hurt like the devil, while the ruffian went down like a felled tree. Taking advantage of the other man's surprise, she tried once again to pull Laurie free.

But the second man was stronger than his friend—or held his liquor better. After a moment's surprise at the fate of his accomplice, he snarled, ‘Nay, you'll not take my woman, bitch.' Tightening his grip on Laurie, the man swung one ham-like fist at Honoria.

Resting her weight on the balls of her feet like her brother had taught her, she easily dodged the blow. But then her attention was reclaimed by Hal, who was struggling to his feet with a roar of rage.

Suddenly, Laurie's attacker was seized from behind by a man who stripped his hand from Laurie with a blow from one fist, smashed his chin with a crosscut left from the other, then pushed him backward down the steep slope. Howling, the man rolled over and over, landing against a rock some twenty feet below them.

Pivoting to face the crouching Hal, he snarled, ‘Need ye my attention, too, mate?'

Babbling something incoherent, Hal put up his hands and backed away, stumbling down the slope toward his friend.

Fists at the ready and one eye still focused on the ruffians down the hill, their rescuer turned to them.

‘Miss Laurie, are you all right? He didn't strike you, did he? Or you, Miss Foxe?'

‘Bless you, Mr Gabe!' Laurie cried. ‘No, he didn't hurt me none.'

‘Nor me, Mr Hawksworth. I do thank you for the timely arrival. If you make this a habit, it's a good one.' Despite her attempt at a light tone, now that the encounter was over, Honoria found her heart pounding and her breathing shaky.

Her remark earned her only a curt nod. ‘Let's get you ladies away from here. Miss Laurie, can I see you home first?'

Laurie must have been suffering an aftermath of nerves, too, for silent tears were slipping down her face. Despite her obvious distress, she shook her head. ‘No, sir, I can get back home on my own. I'll just not take the short cut down by the harbour.'

She turned toward Honoria. ‘Miss Foxe, I won't never forget you coming to help me, but you shouldn't have. 'Twere much too dangerous. If one of them miners had caught you—well, don't know how I could have lived with myself. But I do thank you. You, too, Mr Gabe. I best be going. Ma's expecting me and I don't want to worry her.'

After dropping them both a quick curtsy, she grabbed her shawl off the ground where it had fallen during her struggle and set off for the pathway that ran north behind the draper's shop.

Despite her calm words, Laurie still looked frightened. And the girl would almost certainly have bruises on her shoulders and wrists, Honoria thought, unconsciously rubbing her own wrists at marks long since healed.

Despite her initial success against the brigands, she was overwhelmingly thankful Mr Hawksworth had appeared when he did. Fear curdled in her belly as she remembered the unfriendly eyes she'd seen staring at them from within the stone hut. With the second rogue making a recovery, she'd have been hard pressed to fight off two of them, and somehow she knew the men within the stone structure—a beer hall, she now realized—wouldn't have come to her aid.

Like Laurie, she was more shaken than she wanted to admit. When, oh when, would she learn to think twice before leaping into a situation?

But what else was she to have done? Stand by and see Laurie molested by that drunken lout?

‘Let me escort you back, Miss Foxe,' a voice interrupted
her. ‘By the by, what in the name of Heaven were you doing here? I thought you were going back to the vicarage!'

‘I was, when my errands were complete.'

‘I'll walk you back now, then.'

She might be happy about his fortuitous intervention, but with her emotions so unsteady and given her strong attraction to him, it would be wiser not to accept Mr Hawkworth's escort. Lest she do something foolish—like throw herself into his arms and burst into tears.

Rallying her courage, she tried to put a note of belligerence in her voice. ‘Thank you, but that won't be necessary. Unless the entire populace of Sennlack is full of brigands who attack innocent women?'

Mr Hawksworth sighed out a breath. ‘Needs a keeper,' she thought she heard him mutter before he said, ‘Miss Foxe would never forgive me if, after suffering such an upsetting experience, I didn't see her niece safely to the vicarage. I shall accompany you, whether you want my escort or not.'

She shrugged an answer and set off walking up the hill. If she kept her distance, she might buy enough time to pull herself together so she wouldn't disgrace herself in front of him.

With his longer stride, he soon caught up with her, but for a few moments said nothing. Finally, as if he couldn't remain silent any longer, he burst out, ‘Admirable as it was of you to want to help, whatever possessed you to try and intervene without assistance? If I hadn't happened to be returning to the
Gull
just then, you might have been dragged away and—'

He broke off, flushed, while another wave of fear made Honoria's stomach queasy. Before she could settle it to reply, he'd continued, ‘Didn't your aunt warn you to avoid the kiddleywinks by the harbour? You shouldn't ever walk that way alone, even in daylight! The miners aren't a bad lot, generally, but on pay day with some drink in them… They wouldn't care a pin for the fact that you were Miss Foxe of Foxeden Manor—only that you were a pretty wench.'

His criticism was actually welcome, for it fired an indignation that put an end to the detestable weakness that kept pulling at her. ‘What was I to do, then?' she countered. ‘Just stand by and watch while they made off with Miss Steavens?'

‘Why didn't you call on the draper for aid? His shop stands nearest the hill.'

‘By the time I could have returned there and convinced him to assist, they would have already absconded with her. We both screamed for help—there wasn't anyone else near! Don't you think I would have called on someone, used some weapon, if any had been available? Despite what you seem to think, I'm not completely witless!'

‘I'd better not comment about that,' he retorted. ‘You should know enough not to tangle with men full of a drink that inflames other needs.'

‘I had no idea the hut was a tavern—all I saw was Eva's sister being attacked by ruffians. And having drink in them is supposed to excuse their detestable behaviour? What beasts men are!'

‘I suppose we are, some of the time,' he admitted. ‘But before you convict all men of being complete villains, you must know that Laurie Steavens augments her wages from the inn with…other activities. Activities that involve the exchange of coin for, ah, services of an intimate nature.'

When his words penetrated, Honoria stopped abruptly. Staring at him, she said, ‘You mean she…'

‘Yes, I'm afraid so.'

Heat suffused her face. Had she been a bloody fool, chasing away Laurie's clientele? She shook her head, disbelieving. ‘But she…she doesn't look like a—a fancy woman.'

‘You, being acquainted with so many, would recognize one,' he replied drily.

Her flush deepened, but as she ran through her mind the events that had transpired, her conviction strengthened. ‘Fancy woman or not, she
was
struggling to get away. Even if she is a
woman in the trade, she should still be able to refuse. No woman deserves to be forced against her will.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Coming from a lady of quality, that's a rather charitable view of one of Eve's daughters. Most believe they get what they deserve.'

Honoria was about to reply when the memory took her.
‘Need more than that cold fish Anthony Prescott, don't you? I'll give you what you want. What a fast piece like you deserves…'

Her breath coming faster, her skin gone clammy, she stumbled and almost fell, trying to shut off the memories.

As if from afar, a voice said, ‘Are you all right, Miss Foxe?' A hand clasped her elbow, steadying her.

‘Y-yes, I'm f-fine,' she said, shaking off the hand and trying to still the trembling as she came back to herself.

‘We're almost at the vicarage,' Mr Hawksworth said, concern in his eyes. ‘Can you walk the rest of the way? I'd offer to carry you, but I suppose that wouldn't answer. If you wait here, I can fetch a gig from the inn.'

She shook her head. ‘No, I'm all right now. Please excuse my—my missish reaction,' she added, almost cringing with embarrassment at having appeared so weak before him. ‘You were right, I was precipitous in intervening. Thank you for coming to my aid, even though you knew…what was going on. And now you must think me ignorant as well as brainless.'

‘No, you were right: Laurie was trying to break away. I, too, believe that no woman should ever be forced, regardless of her occupation. Ah, here we are at the vicarage. Won't you go in and let the housekeeper brew you some tea? If you'll forgive my saying so, you look a bit pale. As well you might after suffering such a distressing incident.'

‘No, my aunt will be expecting me. I'll just get my horse and head back to Foxeden.'

‘Are you sure you want to ride back? I could commandeer a gig and drive you.'

‘That's most gentlemanly of you, Mr Hawksworth, but unnecessary.' All she wanted to do now was get back to the safety of Foxeden, so she might sort all this out. And escape Mr Hawksworth's company before she made any bigger a fool of herself.

To her relief, the vicar's manservant must have spied them as they approached the barn, for he came out, leading her horse. After he assisted her to mount and she'd secured the sack with the plants she'd dug earlier from the glen, she looked back at the captain, who stood watching her.

‘Thank you again, Mr Hawksworth, for your assistance and…information. I shall certainly take more care in future. Good day to you.' With a nod of thanks to the vicar's servant, she urged the mare into motion.

She felt the stare of Mr Hawksworth long after she rode away.

After a mile or so, the mare's steady gait and the fresh wind blowing in Honoria's face began to soothe her nerves and settle her agitated mind. Though it still seemed so hard to believe.

Eva's sister—a prostitute! Honoria had seen Barques of Frailty on parade in Hyde Park in their fancy equipages, attended by a crowd of wild young bucks. Or flaunting their fine gowns and diamonds in opera boxes, while she giggled behind her fan with her faster friends over rumours of which rotund lord had which jewel-bedecked charmer in keeping.