She shoved open the door, her eyes wildly searching the room for any figure larger than herself. The pistol she gripped followed her gaze in a crazed arc.
A young man in the clothes of a gentleman with the snarl of a feral beast stood in a half-crouch, his arm raised to protect his already bleeding head. Serious, bookworm, no-nonsense Sarah swung a fire poker at him. The young man grabbed the poker before it could crash into his skull again and pulled hard, tugging Sarah off balance. She dropped the weapon and stumbled forward. Before he could retaliate with a swing of his own, Ivy aimed the pistol just over the man’s shoulder. She pulled the trigger, hoping to embed her bullet in the wall and scare the lunatic senseless. A deafening bang caused the young girls to scream as Sarah pressed her hands over her ears and dropped to the floor in a protective ball.
Acrid smoke and the sour scent of sulphur filled the room.
‘Fucking hell!’ the man bellowed as the poker clattered to the ground. He pressed his hand against his shoulder. Though his coat was black, and the sputtering candle flickered in the wind from the room’s open window, Ivy could see thick crimson blood coating his fingers. The bullet had missed the wall and found a home in his right shoulder.
Bother. I always pull to the left.
A stupid, dull thought to have at such a time. Ivy couldn’t let her mind spin away into panic or she would be no good to the girls. This man was still a threat, even as blood seeped through his fingers.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Sarah slowly rose from her crouch, her attention fixed on the wounded man. Children spilled out of their rooms, seeking the source of such a terrifying bang.
‘Stay back, children.’ Ivy spoke in a commanding tone she barely recognised. She felt the press of little bodies filling the doorway behind her. ‘Sarah, look at me, dear.’ Her voice was calm and firm when everything inside her quaked.
Sarah turned away from the man, her owl-like eyes huge. Her chin quivered, but she pressed her lips together in a determined line.
Brave, sweet girl. I will keep you safe.
But there wasn’t time for softness, not when they clung to their courage like flotsam in a stormy sea. ‘Take these girls into the hall. Get them away from here. Now.’
Instead of following Ivy’s command, Sarah turned to a red-haired girl, only a head shorter than herself. ‘Margaret, lead the others out.’
The girl gulped in a sob.
‘Now!’ Sarah fairly screamed.
Margaret’s gangly legs poked out from a too-short nightgown, and freckles stood in stark contrast to her pale skin. Tears tracked down her cheeks, but she gripped the nearest girl’s hand, and the rest followed suit, forming a wavering chain of white cotton dresses as they skittered along the far wall, scurrying out of the bedroom like so many weeping ghosts.
‘You too, Sarah.’ The last thing Ivy needed was one of her charges being hurt by a wounded, deranged fool of a man.
Sarah crouched down and reached for the fire poker, dragging it across the floor and picking it up, then taking her side by Ivy. ‘I won’t leave you, Mum. Not with ’im ’ere.’
Someone jostled in behind her. A gangly young lad Ivy remembered from earlier in the day.
Henry something-or-other.
He had gotten into a scuffle with one of the other boys in the schoolroom. Stuck in the vulnerable state between man and boy, he had height but no muscle and was comprised mostly of sharp elbows and knobby knees.
‘I’ll protect you both.’ Henry’s voice squeaked on the last word.
Wonderful. A girl with a poker, a boy with delusions of grandeur, and a lady quaking in her half-boots. I’m sure the three of us will strike fear into this blackguard’s heart.
But there was no time to succumb to her doubts. Taking the poker from Sarah, she lifted it in one hand, holding the expended gun in the other. ‘You two stay behind me.’ And like magic, they followed her orders without argument.
The man’s gaze flitted from Sarah to Henry and back to Ivy. Lurching forward, fresh blood seeped from the wound in his shoulder. He bellowed a curse and stumbled to his knees. His face went a ghastly pale green, and Ivy wondered if he was going to heave up his accounts all over the moth-eaten rug. She and her charges shuffled away from him and closer to the door.
‘Bloody fucking hell,’ he gritted between clenched teeth.
‘Watch your language, sir. There are children present.’ Again, a rather stupid thing to say, but Ivy wasn’t thinking clearly. ‘Come any closer, and I shall brain you with this.’ She shook the poker like a sabre and took another step backwards. Sarah’s small hand pressed against her back, guiding Ivy toward the door while Henry crowded her right side.
Bless them both.
‘You stupid bitch.’ The intruder’s eyes were red-rimmed, his lips twisted into a vicious snarl. ‘You shot me.’
‘And I’ll do far worse if you try to hurt these children.’ Rage filled Ivy with false bravado. Not at the insult – it wasn’t the first time she’d been called such nasty names, and they hurt far worse coming from someone who was supposed to love her unconditionally than a stranger invading her home. It was the thought of this brute violating any child under her roof that incensed her. These boys and girls were already far more experienced in pain and trauma than anyone deserved. ‘I’m locking you in this room and sending a runner for the constable. I can reload my pistol in exactly two minutes. Unless you pick this lock faster than that, my next shot won’t be to your shoulder.’ She had cleared the door frame, and before the man could react to her words, she dropped the poker and slammed the door shut. Shaky fingers scrabbled for the keys tied around her waist, and she clicked the lock tight seconds before the handle jiggled violently.
‘You’ll pay for this, you…’
