Louise Gouge - A Lady of Quality

“I fear, Miss Hart, that too much has been made of my part in the event. I merely accompanied Lord Greystone on the adventure. For some charitable reason I know nothing about, he had taken in the little chimney sweeps, and when their former master kidnapped them, Greystone was determined to have them back. After a Bow Street Runner located them in a disreputable tavern on the Thames, the three of us went there to rescue them. Greystone was the true hero, for he entered through an upstairs window and brought the lads out. While he and the Runner made their escape, I held off a few ruffians with my sword and pistol. They were cowards, the lot of them, for not a one attempted to engage me in a fight.”

“Were you all that eager for a duel, then, master swordsman that you are?” The instant she said the words, Catherine cringed inwardly. He would no doubt wonder how she knew such a thing about him.

But he simply chuckled softly and shrugged. “Actually, I do like fencing, but I cannot be certain my instructor, Mr. Angelus, who owns the academy where I practice, would call me a master swordsman.”

Against her will, she detected a hint of humility in his tone rather than the pride she had expected. Had all of his arrogance during their match yesterday been mere bravado? No matter. She would never relent in her belief that he was a villain, albeit a humble one. How the two qualities could reside together in a single man, she could not guess. One thing she did know: all this talk of swordsmanship must cease before she gave herself away.

“Still, you must admit your rescue of the little boys will be a grand tale to tell your own sons.”

“Hmm. I had not thought of that.” He grew pensive, as if envisioning such a scene.

The winsomeness on his handsome face pierced Catherine’s heart. What did he dream of? Hope for? Did a titled gentleman of his wealth, who sat with the great nobles of England in the House of Lords, have any unfulfilled dreams? No, she must not think of such things, must not ask him of his ambitions as though they mattered to her. With no little effort, she thrust away every kind impulse toward him, silently hurling the epithets liar and murderer at him as the landau rolled into Hyde Park.

They continued their ride in silence, passing food vendors, grand carriages of every description and numerous well-dressed people on horseback. Catherine recognized several peers and elected members of Parliament who seemed to have taken advantage of their day off from lawmaking to enjoy the late-afternoon sunshine. Lord Winston received a few solemn nods, but no one called out greetings, although more than one lady eyed the two of them with open curiosity. With all the noises of carriage wheels and chattering people, Catherine felt no need to attempt further conversation with Lord Winston.

“Miss Hart.” His mellow voice broke into Catherine’s reverie. “May I offer you some refreshment? If I am not mistaken, strawberry and lemon ices are available across the way.” He pointed his cane toward a line of trees.

She gazed in that direction. “That would be lovely.”

He ordered his driver to the shaded area where several tradesmen had set up their carts to sell pastries, ices and even complete picnics. There he handed her down from the landau.

“Your choice, Miss Hart.” He gestured broadly toward the numerous sellers calling out to passersby to come taste their wares.

“I thank you, sir.” Catherine studied the row of eager vendors, choosing at last a lively old woman in a tattered apron selling strawberry ices and cream-covered currant tarts. While her escort selected his own food and drink and settled the bill, she strolled among the oak and willow trees toward the Serpentine River some thirty yards away. Having sat most of the day, she longed for the exercise of an invigorating walk, preferably here in the shade as soon as she finished her refreshments.

“What ’ave we here, Joe?” A scratchy male voice came from behind a wide oak. “A pretty lady with a heavy purse, and all alone, at that.”

Another voice cackled, as if his friend had made a fine joke. “And all for the taking, wouldn’t you say, Jigger?”

A violent shiver shot up Catherine’s spine. These vile men meant to attack her, and she had no weapons to defend herself. A glance back at the carriage revealed she had wandered farther away than she had thought. There stood Lord Winston looking this way and that, apparently searching for her. Was he too far away to hear her cry out in the noisy park? Was every decent person too far to help her?

Before she could scream, one of the men grasped her around the waist from behind while the other covered her mouth with a filthy handkerchief that smelled of liquor and sweat. The other man wrested her fan and reticule from around her wrist, knocking her tart and ice to the ground and tearing her sleeve.

Then he began to tear at her gown.

Chapter Six

At the sight of Miss Hart being accosted by two villains, Winston’s heart jolted with fear such as he had not felt since Father died. But while he could not save his sick, elderly parent, he could save this lady. Seizing his cane from the carriage, he called for Toby to bring his whip, and the two of them raced toward the melee.

As they quickly covered the distance, their hats flying off in the wind, Winston saw Miss Hart wriggling and twisting and cheered her courage. When the heel of her half boot connected sharply with her captor’s shin, the man howled, which served to alert others in the park that a crime was in progress. To Winston’s relief, a crowd began to gather. But to his horror, before he could reach Miss Hart, she was flung to the ground and landed hard. The impact sent her bonnet flying, and her long, dark hair fell loose from its pins and formed a silken shawl about her shoulders.

He reached the scene and slammed his cane against the skull of the man who had thrown her down. The attacker landed on his back and emitted a loud cry of agony. In one fluid movement, Winston slammed one Hessian boot down on the man’s chest, unsheathed his sword from the cane and stuck the point into the villain’s neck, drawing blood. Toby set upon the other man with his whip until he curled into a ball and screamed in pain.

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