“Aaahh!” she screamed in faux hysteria, then gave him a mighty shove.
At that moment, the carriage jerked to one side, as Jacob presumably was forced to avoid some obstruction on the street. Rather than tumble across Chloe’s lap as planned, Mr. Bunyan stumbled across the carriage to thump against the inside window.
The coach hurtled down the road even faster.
“What is this?” Mr. Bunyan sputtered, eyes wide. “Who are you people?”
Behind him, Chloe’s hand reached up toward his coat.
Elizabeth gave a winning smile to distract him. He recoiled as if a cobra had just flashed its fangs at him. Which, to be fair, was often how people described Elizabeth’s smiles.
Mr. Bunyan gasped in terror. “You’re not… You’re notWynchesters?”
Elizabeth blinked. “That was quick.”
Usually it wasn’t until wellafterany given maneuver that their villainous targets realized they’d been hoodwinked. But the Wynchesterfamily had taken on so many new clients as of late, and developed such a following, that Elizabeth supposed it was only reasonable for a felonious blackguard to live in fear that he should one day find himself flat against a carriage window in the middle of—
With a scream, Mr. Bunyan leapt across the carriage, shouldered open the door, and threw himself onto the crowded pavement.
“Shite.” Chloe shook her fist at the swinging door. “A runner.”
Jacob stopped the horses at once. “Go.”
Chloe clutched her chest. “I can’t. Elizabeth?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Chloe was breastfeeding a baby every three hours like clockwork, which did not currently allow for sprints through the park to tackle miscreants.
Justice was up to Elizabeth.
Mindful of her sometimes rebellious joints, she scrambled out of the carriage and raked her gaze over the milling throngs. She stood in front of an entrance to Green Park. Now, where on earth was…There, trying his damnedest to disappear amongst the trees and picnickers, was Mr. Bunyan. She lifted the handle of her sword stick and took off after him.
“Stop, thief!” she called out.
Mr. Bunyan glanced over his shoulder, made an expression of pure fear, then dashed between two trees in an obvious attempt to lose her.
He was taller and narrower and no doubt faster than Elizabeth, with his long legs unencumbered by petticoats. But the park was packed with people. Mr. Bunyan kept getting jostled and tripping over tree roots, which gave Elizabeth an opening to follow and the opportunity to regain lost ground.
As her shadow fell across Mr. Bunyan’s fleeing feet, Elizabeth twisted the handle of her walking stick.
“No swords!” came her brother Jacob’s distant shout.
Curse her brother’s squeamishness! He must have tied the horses and followed in pursuit.
Elizabeth sighed and secured the handle guarding her blade. She leapt over a patch of geraniums. Arm and cane outstretched, she poked the fleeing Mr. Bunyan in the back of the knee with her sword stick.
He crumpled like a puppet with cut strings.
Elizabeth threw herself on top of him, flopping about bonelessly to pin him in place. Help would arrive soon. For her, not him.
Chloe was catching up to them, one arm stretched tight across her bodice.
“What the devil is going on?” asked a confused bystander.
Right on cue, Chloe pretended to trip over a yellow geranium and conveniently fell right on top of Mr. Bunyan. Elizabeth rolled out of the way just in time.
“Oof,” emanated from Mr. Bunyan’s lungs as the wind was knocked out of him. He did not seem to recognize Chloe.
