Outside, Cox cursed and bellowed at the protesters.
“Make way there. Hoi, stop that! This ‘aint the Regent’s coach, you numbskulls! Stand aside!”
The carriage gave a terrifying jolt as the horses reared in the traces and tossed their heads. Lucy made a grab for the handle by the door, missed, and was bounced off the seat and onto the floor. While she sat there, shaken, the door was forcibly wrenched open, and she screeched in alarm as a dark, unmistakably male arm reached into the carriage and grabbed her ankle.
She began to kick at the assailant as vigorously as she could. “Get off me, you cur!”
“Damn it, Lucy, stop that! It’s me. Will!”
Lucy stilled in shock as she recognized the voice. “Arden?”
She peered at the indistinct figure in the doorway.
“Yes. You need to come with me. Quickly. This mob is getting out of hand. We’re only a few streets away from the theater. We can take shelter there.”
“What about Cox, and the coach?”
“Cox can handle himself, but he can’t protect both you and the horses. We need to get out of here now.”
“He’s right, miss,” Cox shouted down from above. He was struggling to keep the horses under control. “You go with Lord Ware. I’ll wait this out and meet you at the theater after the performance.”
Lucy shot a brief glance up the road; it was entirely filled with people, an unstoppable human tide.
Arden extended his hand, and she clasped it. He pulled her to her feet then looped his free arm around her waist and swung her down without bothering to let down the step.
The crowd engulfed them as soon as her feet touched the cobbles. She was crushed against Arden, stumbling against the hard wall of his chest, but he steadied her with his hands on her elbows.
“It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
He turned, craning his neck to peer over the crowd. “This way! Come on.”
He took her hand in a grip that was almost painful, and Lucy ducked her head, following him blindly as he began to push his way through the crush. The throng was terrifyingly thick. There was barely any space to move, but he weaved his way expertly, jostling with his shoulders to forge a path.
Lucy almost gagged at the unpleasant odors surrounding them. The vast majority of the protesters were men, and the stench of unwashed bodies mingled with the oppressive smell of stale beer, pipe smoke, and coffee. They were all so tightly squeezed together that she couldn’t even lift her arm to push herself away.
An elbow caught her in the ribs and she let out a cry, then she stumbled as someone else jostled her from behind. She would have fallen and been trampled underfoot, but Arden caught her, his firm grip never leaving hers.
“Careful!”
A crash of thunder directly overhead made several people shriek, and Lucy glanced upward just as the heavens opened and a torrent of raindrops was unleashed from the clouds.
She cursed soundly under her breath.
The mood of the crowd changed almost instantly from anger to desperation. People started to push in earnest, all keen to escape the sudden downpour, but the street was too narrow to allow such a large crowd to disperse quickly.
Just when Lucy didn’t think things could get any worse, a troop of mounted soldiers appeared at the far end of the thoroughfare, and the air filled with cries of alarm.
“Bloody Hell!” Arden growled. “The militia. We need to go.”
The soldiers began to push their horses forward, swinging what looked to be wooden truncheons or cudgels at whichever unfortunate beings happened to be in their way. Panicked protesters started to run, scattering down the narrow side streets and squeezing into shop doorways. One man climbed a lamp post to escape, and another pulled himself up and over a set of tall iron railings.
Arden tugged her hand and pulled her down an alleyway so narrow there was barely enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. They’d escaped the crowd, however, and Lucy took a relieved gasp of air as they stumbled forward.
“Where on earth are we?”
“Feather Lane,” Arden panted, seemingly as out of breath as herself. “This way.”
He still had hold of her hand, and they dashed forward through the blinding rain. The buildings that loomed either side of them did little to shield them from the torrents. They turned a corner, but instead of carrying on, Arden stopped at the base of an unremarkable building and drew her down a set of slick stone steps, as if descending to a basement or scullery.
