Caroline chuckled. ‘Or maybe they should make it harder for people to get married in the first place,’ she began, only half joking, but was interrupted by a shout from the lads ahead of them.
‘Hey, darky!’ one of them yelled, followed by snorts of laughter from the others.
‘Whatdid you say?’ Caroline’s steps faltered.
She threw a horrified glance at Grace, expecting to see a similar shock on her face. But her new friend, apart from briefly compressing her lips, seemed almost not to have heard the boy. Her smile had vanished though, replaced by a mask of calm, her head held high.
Fury fizzed through Caroline’s veins on her behalf and she choked out, ‘How … How dare you? Apologise to my friend right this minute.’
The boy who’d spoken jeered at them, taller than the others and wearing a leather-patched flat cap. ‘Not a bloody chance,’ he spat back at her, adding another coarse slur that left Caroline shuddering.
‘Then I’ll march you home to your parents,’ she said crossly, ‘and tell them exactly what you just said to me and my friend.’
‘My dad wouldn’t give a stuff,’ the lad told Caroline, still grinning as he stepped clear of the shadows. He only looked about twelve or thirteen, but his manner was swaggering, like a much older boy. Clearly the ringleader, she decided.
‘What’s your name?’ Caroline peered at the gaggle of lads behind him, trying to see if she recognised any of them. One boy looked vaguely familiar. ‘And yours?’
‘No, what’syourname?’ the ringleader demanded, his tone belligerent. He hooked his fingers in his belt, staring at her. ‘Perhaps you should walk with us instead. We’ll make sureyou get home safe,’ he added, and again the boys snorted and giggled.
Caroline was alarmed. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard me.’ He came menacingly towards them, the other lads at his back. ‘A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking about the village after dark. Especially not withher. You’ll get yourself a reputation.’
The lad reached for her, and Caroline stumbled backwards with a cry.
‘Careful … You all right?’ Grace helped her back to her feet. Then she turned to glare at the boys. ‘Get lost, do you hear me? Go home and stop making idiots of yourselves.’
The ringleader snarled something under his breath, eyes narrowed dangerously on Grace. But before he could do anything worse, someone came quickly along the lane behind them. A young male voice called out roughly, ‘Hullo, who’s there? What’s going on?’
With muttered oaths, the boys scattered, disappearing over walls and through gates into the dark, frosty fields beyond the lane.
Caroline turned to see the eldest Treedy boy appear behind them at a trot, his face lit up in the moonlight.
‘Oh, thank goodness,’ she muttered, sagging with relief. ‘It’s Jack, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Miss.’ Jack Treedy swiped off his cap and smoothed back his unruly hair. ‘I saw them village boys crowding you and heard a shout. Were they bothering you?’
‘They were rather,’ Caroline admitted, a little shakily. ‘Thank you for coming to our rescue.’
‘It weren’t nothing. And you, Miss? Are you all right?’ Jack asked Grace, his admiring gaze fixed on her face. ‘Iknow that lad with the cap … Tommy Skellin. He’s a bad sort. Aye, and his dad too. Got no respect for anyone, them two.’ He pulled a disgusted face. ‘I can go after Tommy if you like, bring him back to say sorry for scaring you.’
‘Oh, I was never scared,’ Grace told him airily, though Caroline thought she detected a note of strain in her voice. She threw one last scathing look across the field, where shadowy figures could still be seen moving as the village boys tried to make their way home without being caught. ‘Just a parcel of brats with big gobs, aren’t they? Not worth the shoe leather.’
With a shrug, Jack replaced his cap. ‘Let me walk you home, at least,’ he insisted. ‘In case them little beggars come back, eh?’
‘Thank you,’ Caroline said, with a quick glance at Grace, who looked away but did not protest. ‘We’d be very grateful.’
There seemed little point in refusing the lad’s company. Caroline would have preferred a cosy chat with Grace on the walk home, as it was rare at the farm to get anyone on their own for long. But the run-in with those horrid boys had rattled her, there was no denying it.
The three of them set off up the frosty lane towards Postbridge Farm, the moon glowing high above them.
With a murmured, ‘Brr,’ Grace threaded her arm through Caroline’s and drew her jacket closer for warmth. ‘Nippy, isn’t it?’
Caroline had tilted her face to the silvery moon, which she’d thought so beautiful and magical when they’d left the Harvest Supper. But her earlier happiness had evaporated. The moonlight seemed colder now, its beauty at odds with the nastiness Grace had just faced. She glanced at hernew friend and, with a feeling of unease, guessed it could not be the first time Grace had faced such comments. It was all so unfair. Yet Grace had stood up so bravely to those boys, brushing off their vile insults and menacing looks as though they were unimportant. She really was an amazing girl, Caroline decided.
‘Yes, but we’ll soon be home,’ she pointed out.
‘Mmm.’ Grace grinned, one eye on Jack as he strode manfully ahead, scouting out the fields on either side of the lane for any signs of the gang of boys. ‘Shame,’ she whispered in Caroline’s ear. ‘I was rather enjoying our night out.’
