Chapter Ten
Fanny stretched heraching back.How many hours have passed?
She thought she had slept a bit, but she’d also used the time to sort through some obvious truths. They hadn’t hurt her. They hadn’t fed her, either, nor had they allowed her a comfort break, even when she’d called for one. They must plan to move her out of the hole in which they’d stashed her soon.
But for what?
If assault was their goal, they’d have done it. They were saving her for something. She tried not to consider what. Fears for Amy haunted her, and she was less successful in stifling them. She could only pray Amy had made it home and sounded the alarm. Fanny had to believe that.
Someone had flung the door open. “Y’damned fool. Y’din’t blindfold her. She can see our faces.”
She blinked, blinded and trying to focus. She knew the voice, though. Edwards. Terror warred with rage over Horace’s dealings with the toad.
“Don’t matter. Who’s she gunna tell?” someone else growled. “Help me drag the drab out.” That one put action to words, his rough hands squeezing her arms painfully and yanking her to her feet.
“The nob wants her eyes shut, damn it.” Edwards crowded into the closet, the smell of unwashed body and garlic sickening her. The nameless brute held her while Edwards blindfolded her painfully; he slapped her when she kicked him. “Let’s get moving. They’re expecting us in thirty minutes.”
Fear accomplishes nothing.She forced herself to think.If I delay them, maybe…She tried making herself deadweight and dragging her feet. It did her no good. The ruffian lifted her off the ground, one hammy fist on each arm, and carried her out while she silently cursed her size and kicked in every direction. He tossed her over his shoulder and hauled her downstairs, where they paused. The sound of shuffling told her there were at least three or four of them.
“Put ’er down,” a new conspirator said, his voice like sharp gravel. Her tormentors dropped her to her feet. Cool air from an open door struck Fanny’s cheek.
A rough hand yanked her chin, foul breath blanketing her face. “Red hair, exactly what the customer ordered. Fresh one, too. Be tempting if she wasn’t valuable. Green eyes?” The voice belonged to the new man.
“Aye,” Edwards said.
“Perfect. Well done.” The man let her go, but she felt him lean in. “You, girl,” the gravel voice growled. “Mind your behavior. We’re going to walk out. If you do anything to resist—shout, run, kick, drag—we will go back and get that feisty little girl who tried to kick Stink here. There are some that like them young. We can get coin for her, too. We’ll take her just before we burn Rundle’s precious store down. Edwards warned him not to cross us.”
Bile rose. Fanny swallowed it. She wanted to resist in every way the monster listed, but she would go meekly, no matter how it galled, for Amy’s sake. She nodded. Silently. They put her between two of them, and she stiffened her back, ready to walk out, head high, to face her fate.
“Eli Benson will protect me,” Fanny murmured.
Raucous laughter greeted that. “Benson? The bean counter what’s helping ya? Not after the beating Stink and Ralph gave ’im.”
*
The criminal transportproved absurdly easy to neutralize. They found it, as Eli suggested, in the mews behind the wine shop, whose owner slipped Eli his spare key and disappeared, preferring to be deaf, blind, and somewhere else when trouble started. The coachman crumpled quickly and lay tied and gagged in the unmarked black carriage.
Eli watched Rob array their troops with silent efficiency before crouching with his brother in the shadow of the wine shop, behind the Happy Cock’s foul-smelling rubbish heap. Before long, light from the tavern’s rear door, open a crack, spilled into the alley. Eli lunged forward, but Rob grabbed his shoulder, gripping it so hard it hurt. “Signal,” Rob growled, reminding him to wait.
Reilly loomed over the alley, from the flat roof on the tavern’s extension. Hickock, stationed up there as well, had armed Reilly, the former sharpshooter, with a modified Baker rifle. Holliday lurked in the loft of the mews behind the wine shop; the signal was his to give. Wil, who would not be persuaded to stay away, stood with him.
Eli didn’t care for either part of that. He didn’t trust Holliday to keep Wil safe, and he suspected Holliday had other things in mind than rescuing Fanny. The inquiry agent had muttered something about catching bigger fish.
Wedged between his brother and the wall, Eli seethed with frustration. They waited for excruciating minutes while the door remained partially open.
When it finally moved, Eli’s heart stuttered. The door opened wider, and his beleaguered heart accelerated while every muscle in his body tightened at the sight of Fanny, erect and courageous, between two hulking brutes, who pushed her toward the mews.
Outraged at the sight of her blindfold, he got to his feet, ready to knock Rob over if he had to, to get to her. The kidnappers were almost even with them now.
To hell with the signa—
“Now!” Rob had one of the animals holding Fanny on the ground before Eli reached the other. Holliday ran past them, after a shadowy figure to the rear. Eli plowed into his target, who was twice his size, and knocked him against the wall. The swine bounced off it, flying right back at Eli, fists swinging. Eli ducked, using his smaller size as an advantage, and aimed the crown of his head at the thug’s middle. The man went down, and Eli spun around, frantic to get to Fanny.
She turned in confused circles, eyes covered, hands tied together. Eli ripped off her blindfold and wrapped her in a fierce hug before urging her toward the wall and out of the fray.
“Eli!” Fanny screamed, staring over his shoulder, eyes wide in terror. Her shout and the crack of a gunshot were the last things he heard before his world went dark.
