Not a single voice could be heard in the carriage. Its three occupants swayed together in tandem, jolted in the same directions as the wheels met the uneven roads that led east. The silence was like a dead weight that pressed upon them, persistent and palpable, its only backdrop the continuous motion of horse and carriage.
Sidney looked determinedly out of the window, working in the quiet to calm his addled mind as his eyes moved back and forth over fields and greenery, his thumb absently tracing the outline of his lips over and over again. Every so often, a sudden intake of breath would pierce through, and he would try again to move his hand further along the seat, closer to her. Every so often, she would push it back.
----------
SOME HOURS EARLIER...
"Charlotte, it is time to leave. Go out to the carriage." Sidney stood, frozen to the third step, Linton just behind. His hand gripped the bannister, tighter, as his eyes remained fixed upon Lord Townshend.
"I believe that congratulations are in order," Lord Townshend said, all politeness, though his eyes had narrowed at Sidney.
"Oh, yes," said the landlady, "I nearly forgot. They have only just been married. What was it again? Three weeks? Honestly, you'd think it had been thirty with how they-"
"Lord Townshend," Charlotte started, "really, I can explain-"
"There is no time to explain," Sidney murmured.
"We are searching for a mutual acquaintance - a Miss Lambe, who has gone missing recently, and-"
"Charlotte, that's enough," Sidney growled, "please, don't speak another word of it to this man. He cannot be trusted."
"Cannot be trusted?" interjected the landlady in an affronted tone, "Lord Townshend? I've never heard such an accusation thrown about for as kind a man."
"Then, you had best form better acquaintances, Ma'am," said Sidney.
Lord Townshend swallowed nervously, "Perhaps we might...have a word. In private..." He darted an apologetic look at the landlady, and she looked back, affronted. "But of course, Lord Townshend. I've not the time nor the inclination to interfere with your private matters." But her tone said otherwise as she huffed softly, rushing off in the direction of the kitchens.
"What a way to speak to a Marquess," Linton muttered behind Sidney as he tracked her path, "she wouldn't last a day in service, I can tell you that."
"Miss Heywood," Townshend stepped a bit closer to Charlotte, leaning in as if consulting with her privately, "I must ask again...are you quite all right?" his eyes flashed back over at Sidney and Linton, who were continuing on their path down the stairs.
"I am perfectly fine," she said, crossing her arms, "now, say what you have to say."
"Sent you on an errand, did she?" Sidney cut through, the anger apparent in his voice as he approached them.
Townshend turned, his jaw set as he surveyed Sidney, "I don't understand your meaning, Sir."
"Oh, I think you do," he responded, darkly, "make no mistake, I know her well enough to recognise her own handiwork."
Lord Townshend swallowed again, not quite meeting Sidney's eye as he responded. "Mr Parker, I would advise you to ensure that Miss Heywood has a safe passage back to London."
"What are you planning to do to her-" Sidney cut off, his breathing picking up.
"Mr Parker," Linton came up behind him and placed a hand upon his arm, "Now is not the time." But Sidney did not move.
"Go back to London," Lord Townshend's gaze shifted between them, "for God's sake, just go back."
Sidney grabbed his shoulder, looking murderous, "I will not move from this very spot until you are honest with me, Townshend."
Lord Townshend emitted a feeble laugh, "Do you honestly think I could tell you? That they wouldn't drag me down the street if I even attempted it? Unhand me now," he gritted his teeth, "or I will write to your affianced of my little discovery. Mrs Parker, indeed."
"Do that, Lord Townshend," Charlotte admonished, "and you will only succeed in harming me."
He paused.
"Is that really what you aim to do?"
"I aim to get you out of here in one-"
"Townshend? Are you coming, or what?" Charlotte turned to see the man from earlier approach, almost cautiously. A flash of panic surfaced in Townshend's expression, his eyes wide, defeated, and she felt Linton tense up beside her. "Parker?" said the man, "what are you doing here?"
Sidney exhaled, a shallow huff of air leaving his lungs, but his expression revealed no surprise, "I'd ask the same question of you, Robert."
"Our private affairs are none of your concern."
"Oh, I would beg to differ," he growled.
"Volatile as ever, I see," said Robert, smirking.
"Our friends, here, were just on their way back to London," Lord Townshend said, "weren't you, Mr Parker."
But Sidney was no longer looking at Lord Townshend, nor listening to what he was spouting out into the room. "Bridges..." he murmured, the word sounding as if it were lodged in his throat.
A man in the crowd suddenly stood out to them, as if he had appeared out of thin air. He was unwashed, a line of stubble along his jaw, his white breeches and waistcoat greyed and spotted with filth. He smiled, revealing a row of blackened, uneven teeth, but it was his eyes - so dark that they didn't quite look like eyes at all - that sent a numbing sense of foreboding through Charlotte. His gaze moved to her, raking over her slowly as if he were running a grimy hand along her body from head to toe.
Sidney spun around to face them, his head dipped low as he whispered urgently, "Get out, now. If I am not at the carriage in five minutes, leave without me. Linton, you know the direction."
"No," Charlotte reached for his coat, her fingers curling around the wool without a second thought, "I won't have another fight, and certainly not in your condition," she whispered in frustration.
"If it isn't Mr Parker," said the man called Bridges, "come chasing after us already?"
Sidney's eyes narrowed, and he whirled around to face the man. "That depends, Bridges. Is something weighing on your conscience?"
"My business is none of your concern," he said, revealing yet more blackened teeth as he sneered.
"Oh, I remember a great deal about your business," Sidney clenched his jaw and stepped forward, his shoulders squared, tense, "and you look fresh off the ship."
Charlotte felt a tug at the back of her sleeve and glanced up to see Linton just behind her. She shook her head once, then pointed her chin in the direction of the back door. Linton followed the trail.
"Gentlemen, please, be reasonable," said Lord Townshend, his voice quivering, "let us end this here and part ways."
"Oh, I'll go," said Sidney darkly, moving closer to Bridges, "when this man assures me that his business has no relation to me."
"Relation?" Bridges shot back, laughing, "oh, my business has no relation to you, whatsoever, unless you consider yourself related to cargo."
In a flash, Sidney had him by the neck and slammed him back against the wall. "I could watch you die a slow death right here and now," he bellowed.
He answered in a gurgling wheeze, and Sidney squeezed tighter as Bridges grasped at his arms, his wrists, trying to pry him free. "Give me one reason not to," he seethed, pounding him back into the wall.
"Get off him!" shouted Robert, who had grabbed him by the shoulders, but Sidney shook him off, elbowing him in the jaw with his free arm repeatedly until he lost his grip. Robert doubled over in pain, spitting blood onto the floor as Sidney pushed Bridges back against the wall. His face began to go from puce to a sickly grey. Taking his chance, Sidney kicked backwards and bashed a heel into Robert's knee, sending him straight to the floor.
"Miss Heywood, the carriage," Linton shouted into her ear, and he pulled at her arm with such force that she nearly fell backwards, but she regained her balance and took off in Sidney's direction. "Miss Heywood, please!" Linton shouted.
"Sidney, STOP!" she cried, "for God's sake, let the man go!"
"Charlotte," he gritted his teeth, "Go to the carriage. NOW."
"Not until you give me your word that you will not harm him."
"The carriage! NOW!" he shouted, making eye contact with her this time. "Linton-" His grip on Bridges had loosened momentarily, and a filthy palm covered his face, pushing it back, fingers seeking his eye sockets as he shoved him with as much force as he could muster, crying out in frustration.
In a moment, she had been all but picked up off the floor. "Miss Heywood, we must go!" Linton said through clenched teeth as he dragged her towards the back exit.
"What are you doing?" Charlotte cried as she was pulled through the back door, kicking at him to break free. "There will be blood on his hands if we do not-"
"Oh, please, he won't kill the man," Linton said, letting her go as soon as the door latched, his expression one of disgust, "and if he happened to, good riddance," he muttered, angrily.
"Did you not see the man's face?"
"He is holding them off," Linton said quickly as she reached out for the door handle.
"He's...what?" she paused.
"The ostler, at the stables. He saw two travellers fitting the description of Miss Lambe and Mr Arthur Parker the night before last. They hired a carriage, bound for Norfolk. Now, who do you think they might be paying a visit, Miss Heywood? Because I have my doubts it is Lord Townshend."
"And you sent me out of the room knowing that? Without even bothering to tell me?"
"Not you as well," he groaned, throwing his hands up in aggravation, "I had no idea what might be coming after them, and discovered the two of you in a bloody room, alone. At the time, I chose to manage what was in front of me. If the two of you had just behaved as you should-"
"Don't you dare blame this on me. I did my best with what I had."
"As did I," he fumed, turning abruptly to set off down the alley, "Come with me or refuse, but I have a job to do and little time to waste gaining your trust."
"Linton. Linton, where are you going," she called, walking after him, stumbling over the uneven terrain of the stable yard, "If we are to miraculously outrun these men, shouldn't we be preparing the carriage?"
He turned, "Oh, we are preparing a carriage, all right. Are you coming, or what?"
"It has been far longer than five minutes," Charlotte said, pacing outside the Parker carriage on the main road, "What if we missed him?"
She was met with a knowing sigh, as Linton opened his pocket watch one last time to triple check.
"Linton, I don't know what to do. What if he has been hurt again?" she paused, considering.
"Stay calm, Miss Heywood. He had only one opponent standing when we left, and the man was rather blue in the face, as I recall. There is no need to worry quite so much. Townshend will cause him no harm."
"He might be speaking more with Lord Townshend, perhaps. Getting information?"
"Precisely," Linton said, approaching the carriage. "Now, you had best get on board. And I," he swallowed in apprehension, "had best prepare to hold my stomach."
"Right..." Charlotte said, deep in thought. She opened the carriage door and stepped inside while Linton spoke briefly to the driver. The door blew backwards, flattened by a sudden gust, its hinges creaking at the motion as the wind pulled it away and released it to come crashing back again, with greater force. She sat down quickly, looking out to the ever-changing crowds of new arrivals that seemed to flood the town every twenty minutes, and her stomach dropped so suddenly that she hadn't quite registered the cause. "Linton," she called out, feeling as if the voice that emerged belonged to someone else, "Linton, get inside."
"In a moment, Miss Heywood," he called out.
"Linton, it's time!"
Sidney Parker emerged from the sea of new arrivals on the main road, running in their direction, waving an arm onward, and Linton bolted for the carriage door. In a flash, he was seated across from Charlotte, pounding his fist twice on the ceiling. The carriage took off down the street, gaining speed as the figure of Sidney Parker approached, running full tilt, the figures of Robert and Bridges behind him as he slowly gained on the carriage.
Charlotte reached a hand out through the opened door as he huffed, taking one last shallow breath before jetting the final length to the carriage door. He took her hand and she pulled as he leapt into the air, landing diagonally across the floor at her feet - his legs still dangling outside the carriage as the door swung about on its hinges.
"Charlotte," he panted heavily, not moving from his position on the floor, "Can you see them? Are they on our heels?"
She looked out of the back window and watched as the men changed direction, heading back towards the stables at The Red Lion, and she grinned. "Well, they won't be for very long, I can tell you that."
Sidney glanced up at her, perplexed.
"Miss Heywood and I," Linton chimed in as he brushed at his coat, "may have, perhaps, located their carriage."
"You-" Sidney squinted up at Linton, still panting as Charlotte latched the carriage door, "You what?"
"Yes, it would appear that both of the rear wheels have been compromised, Sir," he said, calm as ever as he spotted a smudge of grease on his index finger and began to rub it away.
"Loose rivets. It won't be long before the wheels come off, entirely," she glanced over at him, a hint of pride in her expression.
"You loosened the-"
"Of course we did," said Linton, "we had to find some way of holding them off."
"Even so, depending on where it happens, they may not be delayed for very long."
"True," Charlotte conceded, "they might hire a carriage to follow us, but it will still take some time to do - and is not every second an advantage."
Sidney lodged himself in a corner of the carriage, clearly starting to feel the pain brought on by the afternoon's events. "Now, to figure out a way to deal with Robert Campion," he said, pausing briefly to squeeze his septum.
"Campion?" Charlotte said.
"The man who approached us while we spoke to Townshend also happens to be Eliza's brother-in-law. That, matched with Bridges..." he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it irritatedly, "why couldn't she have just gone to Gretna Green."
"These men...you know them."
"Not well, but yes," Sidney said, darkly, "Robert Campion is known for trading in Antigua."
"So you were competitors."
"He doesn't trade in sugar, Charlotte-" he looked at her ominously, "he specialises in something far more profitable."
Her heart rate started to pulse up through her neck at such speed that she felt dizzy from it. She stilled, a range of possibilities flooding her mind - but one, far more horrifying than the rest, remained. "Georgiana-"
"Is, for whatever reason, likely headed to Mrs Campion's estate," finished Sidney, "and if we don't reach her in time to prevent whatever heinous act Eliza has likely instigated, Bridges, and Campion, will reach her first."
Charlotte blinked, then shook her head in refusal of the idea, "But, Georgiana is a free woman. She is an heiress. Surely, she would not be-"
"Not be what? Taken hostage? Captured and shipped off to God knows where? Is that what you think wouldn't happen?"
Her mouth opened as if to retort, but she did not yet have the words - only the pricking of tears that she tried desperately to ward off. "If he...if Bridges were to-"
"Charlotte, I can't think about that right now," he blinked rapidly, his eyes shining as the sun drew patterns on his face, "please, don't make me think."
She swallowed, holding back until she no longer could.
-----------
"Tell me, Miss Lambe, what is your preference?" Arthur asked. A childish grin spread upon his face as he wiped his brow in the sunshine. His coat was draped over his arm.
"I don't know exactly, yet," said Georgiana, shielding her eyes as she looked toward the imposing manor at the base of the hillside, "but Otis did once mistake me for a servant."
"Mistake you for a servant?" Arthur exclaimed with an air of incredulity.
"Arthur," she replied, annoyed, "let us not pretend that it wouldn't be the direct assumption of the majority."
"Yes, well, perhaps it might for some, Miss Lambe, but you are unmistakably a lady. It is written all about you, you know. Your speech, the way in which you carry yourself. Yes, there is very much a power about you - I'm rather shocked to hear that you aren't aware it exists, yourself."
Georgiana paused, her eyes rolling up to meet the gaze of her much taller companion as she shook her head. "Are you serious?"
He grinned back at her, "Oh, yes, on that matter, at least, I would not jest."
"Then what would you propose that we do?"
"Oh, I wouldn't know where to start. Though, I have always enjoyed a good tour..."
"You want to tour the estate?"
"Oh, yes, that sounds a lovely time, does it not, Miss Lambe?" he spoke hopefully as he offered his arm to her. "I am rather fond of country estates. Perhaps they might offer us refreshments by the end to keep us from fatigue."
"Is that all you ever think about?"
"Naturally - when it is past luncheon and I've not had a morsel."
"All right, then," she conceded, "back in the carriage. If we are to act the part, we will take the main road."
Arthur grinned in delight.
----------
SOME HOURS LATER...
Sidney awoke to lantern light, the form of Charlotte close enough to touch, her face cast in shadow. He sat up, getting his bearings as he squinted out towards the light. They had clearly stopped to switch out the horses for the second time that night, but where, exactly, they had stopped on their path through Cambridgeshire, he didn't know.
"If you cannot take turns sleeping, we will have to find someone who can," Linton's irritated voice emerged from the group of men outside, "We have no other option but to continue," he replied to one of the drivers, more forcefully this time.
Sidney fell back upon the seat, relieved, yet again, that Linton was along for the trip.
"Where are we?" came Charlotte's weary voice beside him.
"I don't know," he murmured, resting his head back against the seat before he turned to face her, his gaze lowered to her hands, her sleeve, the light forming shapes upon her dress.
She nodded, and stared down at her hands, blinking, "Sidney, I-"
"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Charlotte," he said quietly, "I just couldn't-" he cut off as the familiar tightness rose, yet again, in his throat, and the words died before he could speak them. "I didn't even thank you."
"Thank me for what?"
"Your cleverness," he said, moving instinctively nearer as he sought her eyes in the darkness, "For holding them off far longer than I could."
"Yes, well that was mainly Linton's idea - though I might have explained a few things."
He chuckled quietly, then bit his lip, feeling as if he had disturbed the silence that still loomed over them. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. I swear he hasn't left Bedford Place in years."
"Sidney-"
"Yes."
"What are we to do-" she whispered, her voice catching.
He stared straight ahead into the darkness. "We are going to find her first." She squinted back at him against the lantern light that finally landed upon her face, as it swayed in the breeze just outside the carriage.
"And what makes you so sure of that?" she sniffed.
"Because," he responded, his eyes flicking over to hers, "the alternative is too much to bear."
She nodded, her eyes overflowing briefly as she looked down to her hands, blinking away the persistent tears that kept appearing at any mention of what lay ahead. Sidney's eyes lingered on her, drawing in her sorrow, and once again, he acknowledged the feeling of helplessness that swelled within him - like a festering wound he could not contain.
The door to the carriage cracked open, and Linton stepped in, "Ah," he removed his top hat, "the horses are nearly ready. We should be on our way," he said as he tried to quell a great yawn.
Sidney blinked at the sudden break in silence, and his eyes lingered no more. "At this pace," he looked to Linton, "we might well cross over to Norfolk with daylight hours to spare."
"As long as our drivers cooperate, yes," Linton muttered.
"You were gone a while. Everything okay?"
"Fine for now," Linton said, settling back, "only that I'm afraid the excitement of a quick getaway has rather blown the wind out of my sails. I suggest you get some rest while you can. Lord knows I won't take kindly to a sleep-deprived master in the morning having been up half the night, myself."
Sidney tapped the ceiling twice, and they were off again, jolting about, to and fro, as they took on the rugged roads by lantern light. After a time, he looked over at Charlotte again in the dim glow that shifted, hypnotically - circling them both but never quite landing - and she looked back.