“Your Grace!” Phoebe screamed the words this time.
Chapter 14
Francis heard the scream. It tore through his anger and his focus on returning to the carriage. He whipped round, taking hold of Lady Ridlington’s arm and pulling her back. Whatever had made her scream had frightened her.
“What is it?” he asked, still with his hand on her arm.
“Look out!” she cried, pointing behind him.
He heard the woosh of someone trying to strike through the air. Reminded of the days in Montmartre where thieves had tried to take his wallet. He struck up with his arm as he spun round.
He managed to block the blow that was coming his way. With his forearm against the forearm of their attacker, the knife hovered in the air, glinting in the lamplights from nearby.
Francis acted quickly. He reached for the knife as he kicked out, colliding with the man’s shins and knocked him away. He took the knife cleanly into his grasp, before the man approached again.
This time, the man walked toward Lady Ridlington, instead of Francis, clearly judging her as the easy target. Francis stepped in front of her, pushing Lady Ridlington further back. She clung onto the back of his jacket, her head peering round his arm as the attacker moved forward.
“Stay back,” Francis warned the man, adjusting the knife in his grasp, but the attacker didn’t seem to notice the words. His eyes slipped to Lady Ridlington, then his face altered into one of surprise.
Oh no…he can see she is not a boy.
With the knife safely in his left hand, Francis lashed out with his right, punching the attacker clean in the nose and breaking it. The man fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, clinging to his nose and wailing in the air.
As the adrenaline of the fight settled, Francis became more aware of his surroundings. There were other people in the street looking their way, intrigued by the fight, their outlines only just visible in the long shadows of the growing night. Lady Ridlington was two steps behind him, breathing heavily, evidently with fear. The man on the ground continued to wail about his nose as he attempted to get back to his knees.
“What were you after?” Francis asked, pocketing the knife to ensure it could not be used again. “Money?”
The man nodded.
“We should call a constable,” a voice went up in the street. “You there, boy, fetch a constable!” A gentleman ordered a young lad.
“A constable?” Lady Ridlington’s high pitched voice terrified Francis. If a constable got involved in this matter, then her disguise could be blown, and the Viscount could find her.
“No!” Francis said the word surprisingly loudly, turning his head round to the gentleman who had called for the constable and was quickly approaching. “No constable will be necessary. Thank you for the kindness, but the matter is resolved.” He kicked out at the thief’s arm who fell back on the floor, holding his bloodied hands up in surrender. He clearly had no intention of getting up again.
“I must insist, besides, my footman has already gone to fetch the constable,” the gentleman said as he reached their sides.
Hearing this, Francis whipped round and grabbed Lady Ridlington’s hat, pulling it further down over her face to ensure she could not be seen.
“Are you all right?” the gentleman addressed Francis.
“I am fine, thank you for the concern, but the constable is really not necessary.”
I have to get Lady Ridlington out of here. As soon as possible!
“He will be on his way already, I do not doubt it,” the gentleman said, gesturing down to the thief with a cane. “Good reason for it. Someone likes him deserves to be locked up.”
“Any other time I would agree with you, but if you would forgive me, today I have somewhere else to be.” Francis took hold of Lady Ridlington’s arm and ran down the street with her, pulling her after him.
“Wait! You there? Why are you running?” the gentleman called after him, but Francis had no intention of answering him or going back. He merely focused on the path up ahead and the carriage at the end of it that was waiting for them.
Lady Ridlington was struggling to keep up, so much so that Francis switched his hold from her arm to her hand, pulling her forward with their hands clasped together.
He just had to get her out of there, now.
Once he reached the coach, he shouted for the coach driver to be ready to go, hardly caring anymore if he saw Lady Ridlington dressed as a boy or not. They had to get out of there before a constable arrived, that was the only thing that mattered now.
“James! We’re leaving, now.”
