It was hard to keep track of what happened next. A wall of bodies surged in, fists began flying, and several tables were overturned, spilling liquor across the floor.
"Take that, you bloody bastard! And that!" I broke a bottle over one assailant's head and kicked the other where the sun didn't shine. An ugly face appeared in my line of vision, and, figuring I could only improve it, I punched the face in the nose. My knuckles throbbed in protest, but I told them, "Shut up!" and grabbed the poker from the fire, waving it around me wildly.
Someone jumped on me from behind, and I flailed around, trying to shake him off. The one thing neither of us had counted on was the already scale-tipping weight of my prominent backside, and we toppled over backwards. Thankfully, the fellow cushioned my fall, as I landed smack on top of him. He let out a pained oof.
"Next time, don't underestimate the power of a generous derriere!" I told his prone form as I bounced back to my feet.
I waded back into the fray. Someone had broken a stool, and was using the pieces as clubs. I couldn't see Captain Carter, and hoped he was holding his own. It was impossible to tell who was fighting, who was trying to hold the fighters back, and who was trying to pick everyone else's pockets. I lost my top hat at one point, and at another, I found myself holding someone's rifle, only to lose it a second later.
Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the throng. "Let me go, you bloody bastardo --"
I swung a fist towards the person's stomach, but he grabbed my wrist before it could make contact.
"It's me," whispered Captain Carter. "This way!"
He tugged me out a side door, and we sprinted down an alley.
"We... could've... taken them," I panted. Alright, so maybe I hadn't really kept in shape after returning from Brazil. Sitting eating chocolate instead of dancing at balls will do that to a person!
Captain Carter slowed. "Let's see how long it takes them to notice we're gone," he said jovially. He pulled me over to a window where we had a prime view of the brawl continuing in the pub.
"Your face is kind of a mess," I told him, eyeing the blooming bruises around his eyes and the line of blood trickling from his nose. "Is this normally how you spend your free time?"
"When I'm not at balls charming beautiful women, yes," he said with a wink.
"Brilliant!"
A breeze ruffled my hair, and I realized that my top hat had not made it back onto my head. I quickly stuffed my hair under my collar, hoping it was dark enough that Captain Carter would not realize that he had, in fact, brought a lady to a pub and listened to her talk about hiking through the Amazon in the company of a very male boss and a bunch of Brazilian soldiers.
Inside the pub, Flynn jumped onto a table and held up his hands. "Hold it, hold it! Where'd they go?"
People lowered their makeshift weapons and glanced around in confusion. The pickpockets slunk off surreptitiously. One man took the opportunity to pick his nose.
"They've gotten out! Go after them!" someone shouted, and with a collective roar, the crowd surged out the front door and took off down the street, hollering at the tops of their lungs.
"Time to go," Captain Carter suggested cheerfully. We snuck around to the front, where I had left Prince Albert tied up.
"Come on, nice horse, come on," I said in what I imagined to be a very soothing voice. "Come quietly so we don't get our backsides kicked."
Prince Albert stamped a hoof and pinned his ears back in a thoroughly undiplomatic manner. I tugged on the lead rope, but he stayed more firmly planted in place than Empire House.
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."
~~~~
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!