Then everything slowed down, the single man crossed at an angle and took Violet’s arm to pull her with him, a blade he held at her breast gleaming in the sun, the drops of red that dribbled from her hand as she tried to stop him, the pale of her face and the terror in her eyes. A hat of purple plumes fell from her head, the bright of her hair like a beacon in the sunlight.
Lian gripped the offender and the knife cut deep into his own flesh. Then the weapon fell groundwards, useless underfoot. He kicked it away as his good hand found his own blade.
‘Keep walking. Don’t make a sound or I will kill you. Do you understand?’ Steel found that soft spot in the assailant’s back just above one kidney and he pressed closer, heartened by the nod of the offender. Not a scene, then, but a quiet and unnoticed tussle as the world of intelligence operated right under the noses of an unmindful public.
Violet looked shocked.
‘Go home, Violet, and stay home. Mountford will see you safely there.’
Already he could see the Minister coming their way, any indolence gone now.
‘And y-you?’
He did not answer as he jerked the offender back down the path and out of the way of the group of women who stared at him in horror. The shout of youths further off had them all turning.
‘Let him go, you French bastard. He’s English and he did not do anything to you.’
As the ruffians closed in, Aurelian stopped and stood his ground. He looked as if he didn’t care one way or another about their presence, his face a mask of cold indifference. Violet could see no sign of the knife he held.
‘I’d advise you to go home before you are hurt.’
‘There’s five of us and one of you.’ The largest boy puffed out his chest and moved forward.
‘Can you walk with a broken leg? Can you see without eyes?’
The group hesitated, not perceiving in the one they were harassing any of the usual fear. Some other thing lay there, too, on Aurelian de la Tomber’s face. Recognition of what this all meant, Violet thought, for someone must have tasked them to expose him. The web just kept growing as the spiders got busier.
Lytton Staines and Edward Tully had cut across to stand beside Aurelian and the height and breadth of the three men was more than enough against the younger and smaller foes. With a click of a finger they had departed, scurrying towards a gate to the south, huddled in a tight and angry group.
Aurelian de la Tomber’s hand was bleeding badly, but he didn’t seem to have even noticed the hurt as he wiped the blood against his breeches. Violet was still shaking from the shock of her assault and an understanding that only a small line had hovered between life and death.
If he had not intervened, she would be dead.
The very fact of her narrow escape made her breathing shallow and her heart race.
Amara was beside her, weeping quietly, her two sons with their wide eyes on Aurelian as he and the others made their way towards the Stanhope Gate.
‘My God, Violet. My God.’
Amaryllis seemed stuck on the few words and when Charles Mountford joined them her sister-in-law fell into his arms.
‘The man tried to kill Violet. He had a knife.’
‘There, there, Mrs Hamilton. The threat is over now and it is better if we do not make a fuss.’
Better, Violet thought. Better for whom? Aurelian had already been exposed and nothing could stop the gossip that must follow.
‘Is everything all right, Mr Mountford?’ Lady Elizabeth Grainger and her sister sauntered over, their faces alight with curiosity, as were a few others who had stopped to watch Amaryllis crying.
‘It is now. Unfortunately the fellow suffers from fainting spells and felt unwell. He is being helped off to his carriage as we speak.’ Charles said this in a tone that was entirely believable. A man who still clung to another truth and was trying his best to contain any damage.
‘And your hand, my dear?’
When sharp eyes took in the blood at the top of her thumb Violet scraped up resolve and followed Charles’s lead. ‘I caught it on my brooch as I tried to aid him and it cut me.’
A simple explanation for complex things.
She was glad when her godfather took over. ‘So if you will excuse us, Lady Elizabeth, I shall make sure the Addington party now gets home. A cup of tea is in order, I think.’
