The Light Within the Storm #AStormOfFanFiction

4. How to Escape an Angry Mob

I may have growled a bit in frustration. "Hurry up, you dumb, stubborn --"

"Hey now," Captain Carter said, "that's no way to speak to Prince Albert."

I pulled off a shoe and threw it at him. "Come help me! You got me into this mess, you and your stupid cheating ears!"

There was a shout from down the street. "There they are! This way, men!"

Before I could yell at Prince Albert again, strong hands grabbed me around the waist and lifted me up.

"Hey! Put me down!" I protested, kicking. The hands deposited me on Prince Albert's back, and a minute later their owner swung up behind me. Captain Carter leaned forward, pressing me onto the horse's neck, and grabbed onto his mane.

"Hiyah!" he shouted, digging his heels into the horse's flank. By some miracle, the horse listened, and took off like a shot just as the mob arrived at the hitching rail.

I wouldn't have thought the shaggy little beast had the energy left in him to sprint away into the sunset, like some majestic steed in a romance novel. Actually, if star crossed lovers ever tried to ride off on Prince Albert while embracing lovingly, they would fall off and be trampled almost immediately. As it was, I was clinging onto Prince Albert's neck with all my might, every stride that he took jostling me around. Captain Carter was still behind me, and I could hear him whooping as the mob was left in our dust.

Wind rushed into my eyes and made them water. I blinked away the tears and looked up from the ground rushing past. We were racing down the waterfront, startling a flock of seagulls that cawed and swooped up to fly alongside us. We were flying. I threw back my head, laughing, feeling the wind rush through my hair, and let out a whoop to rival Captain Carter's. I'd take this over a carriage any day!

It seemed like we had run all the way to Scotland by the time Prince Albert finally slowed back to a walk.

I patted his neck. "Good horse. I think we lost them." He was making whooshing sounds as he sucked air in and out, and he didn't even have the energy to snap at my fingers.

Captain Carter sat back, putting space between us again. Some corner of my mind missed his warmth, but I squashed the thought back down. "Enjoy that?" he asked.

"It was wonderful! I don't see why people believe riding in carriages is the fashionable way to go. Riding is much more fun."

"Strangely enough," Captain Carter pointed out, "most polite members of society do not put fun above appearances. But I am impressed that you managed to hang on."

I twisted around and squinted at him. "Maybe a little warning next time?"

"Next time, hopefully the angry mob will not discover us so quickly because someone was making a ruckus." I jabbed an elbow back into his ribs and he grunted. "Besides, I could not pass up the opportunity to let you experience a real gallop, Miss Linton."

I froze, and my hand shot up to my hair, which had come untucked from my collar. I said a word that would've made Aunt Brank cut out my tongue. "Someone in the fight stole part of my disguise."

Captain Carter let loose another one of his ready laughs. "You really think it took me that long to see through that?"

"How long did it take?"

"I could tell it was you as soon as I saw you at the horse market. You may not make much of a young lady, but you make even less of a gentleman."

"Shut up!"

There was a moment of silence.

"So you took me to a pub and started a fight knowing I was female?" I asked.

"I suppose you could look at it that way."

"You aren't much of a gentleman either!"

He laughed softer this time. "No, I'm not. That's why I've stayed in the army instead of going to lounge on some country estate."

"Good. Country estates are boring, anyway."

There was another moment of silence, but one that was warm and companionable instead of the iciness I was used to.

"Are you going to tell my aunt?" I asked.

I twisted to look at him again, where he was still sitting behind me. He rubbed the spot on his chin where his beard used to be. "Given what I've done tonight, that would probably reflect rather poorly on myself. So I'd rather not tell, if that's alright with you."

"Well, that is what I'd prefer, but you really are a cad!"

He shrugged. "Did you really do all those things you were telling me about? In Brazil?"

I huffed. "Of course I did! I wouldn't just make something like that up. I still have mosquito bites to prove it!"

"Then --" his eyes widened. "When I saw you in Egypt, you weren't just there on vacation, were you?"

"Not unless you'd consider hunting a group of bandits a vacation. And I know my employer didn't, because he'd have a coronary if anyone suggested he ever take a break from working."

"And this boss, what's his name? How did he hire you?"

"He didn't know I was female when he hired me. I had sort of impersonated a man and tried to vote at the time." I felt a small smile on my face. "He still refuses to admit I'm female, hence the male disguise. He's a bloody bigot, but he does sign my paycheck." And he does a lot more than that, if one catches him in the jungle heat...

"Miss Linton, I already held you in high regard, but I see now that you are even more extraordinary and wonderfully unladylike than I believed."

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Foozler: a bungler, or one who does things clumsily

I really enjoyed looking up these old Victorian-era insults. Vote and comment if you're enjoying the story so far!