CHAPTER 22

I felt numb as we made our way back to Ma's house. The papers in my pocket felt heavy against my chest. I was the heir to a grand estate, two properties and interests, a lord-in-waiting.

The streets leading up to Ma's were empty. Even the chickens that sometimes roamed were nowhere to be seen. My gaze darted to the shadows now and then, the urge to turn back and run was high. That uneasiness wouldn't go away.

"John!" A figure emerged from the alleyway beside Ma's house. I gripped Hannah's hand and pulled her closer to me. "John, thank goodness! I've been watching for you."

"James?" I frowned. He didn't look drunk, and he wasn't smiling. "What's the matter? You been drinking again? Where's your ma?"

"She's at home," he said, wiping a hand across his brow. "And I'm not drunk. John, there's trouble. Those blokes…the ones who were arguing with us at the picket line the other day when you were gone. Probably them that worked to break the strike…they're here. Looking for you."

"Looking for me? What for?"

"Not sure. They were asking questions and wouldn't leave your ma alone, not ‘til I came out." He swallowed, his gaze darting to the shadows behind us. "I don't think they're far, John. Probably somewhere down the street waiting until you and the lady are alone. They look mean as the devil."

"We need to get you inside," I said to Hannah.

"Would she be safer at my place?" James asked. By now, we were passing the few houses left until home.

"If they're watching, it won't matter, but I don't want your family in danger. Best Hannah stays with me."

James stood at the gate as I knocked on the door and waited. Every instinct screamed at me to run, hide, to do something, anything, but stand there waiting.

"Ma, Ma it's me. Open up," I said.

A couple of moments later, I saw a light in the window and she opened the door.

"Johnny! What…what's going on?"

"No time to explain. Just get inside, lock the door, and don't open it for anyone," I said. I pushed Hannah ahead of me, nodding at James as I closed the door and slid the bolt across. "Johnny, what's going on?" Ma asked, her voice trembling.

But I didn't have time to explain. The sound of footsteps approaching, heavy and purposeful, reached us, even over the sound of Ma's heavy breathing. I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the stairs.

"Hannah, you both get up there with Maggie. Don't come down, you hear? You stay up there. No matter what, you stay there. Quick!"

Ma stumbled, but Hannah caught her by the arm and helped her up the narrow stairwell. I ran up the steps to help her get Ma up to the landing, and they hurried into my room. Maggie stirred a little as Hannah reached for the door.

"No matter what, stay."

The door slammed shut. I took the steps two at a time until I reached the bottom. With a lick on my finger, I snuffed out the candle and tossed it aside.

"John Ingham! Open up! We know you're in there!" A gruff voice said. My blood ran cold.

I could hear the crack of wood splintering as the door shuddered. They were breaking down the door. I grabbed the metal bar that sat beside the door; hefting it into my hands. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was something.

My hand fumbled against my pocket. The envelope was still there. John Ingham. Oliver Nicholson. Lord of Frogmere Manor. I looked at the door as it shuddered again. The name didn't matter. Nothing mattered at that moment except protecting those I loved.

"Lady Catherine," I murmured. The smirk. One step ahead of us, no doubt.

The door crashed to the floor. I ran for the back door. Careful to make sure they'd seen me first. I scrambled on the muddy dirt outside and over the fence into the yard next door. I heard yelling behind me and footsteps. Another fence. I went over and found myself in the alley beside the row of houses.

I stuck to the shadows, gripping the bar in my hands. Heart hammering, palms sweating, I glanced between the fence and the end of the alley.

And then I saw him. James, his sleeves rolled up and something in his hands. I moved towards him just as someone tried to climb the fence.

"What the hell are they playing at?"

"I don't think this is about the strike, old friend. This is about something else," I replied.

"Come back here John, we've got a special message to deliver," one of the men said as he landed on his feet. He held a club in his hand and tapped against the palm of his hand.

"You're going to owe me an explanation in the morning. No excuses…" James said.

The man with the club came into view as he left the shadows. A burly man with a pockmarked face and a sneer that could curdle cheese.

"Got you now, you little bastard! Always a pleasure to teach any of you a lesson," he sneered.

He lunged towards us. I pushed James away and swung the bar too late. The club hit my arm, sending me to the road. He stepped closer to take another swing. I kicked out with my leg, catching him where it hurt. He let out a surprised yelp, and I scrambled, hauling myself to my feet and running down the road towards the river.

Footsteps heavy on the road were joined with cursing. If they caught me, I'd be done like Peg, only this time it would be for good. Lady Catherine like her games and she didn't intend on losing.

I dodged between houses, my breath rasping in my throat, my legs burning with exertion.

"I got you."

I turned my head to see James appear from another alley and run beside me.

"This way," he gasped, pulling me towards an alleyway.

We plunged into darkness as I followed James, ducking under washing lines, scrambling over discarded crates, our footsteps echoing as we raced through the labyrinth of narrow streets. The voices were getting closer. Each turn we made, I thought they would step out and grab me.

Suddenly, James came to a halt. He pulled me to a stop behind him, his hand clamped over my mouth as his hot breath brushed my ear.

"Quiet," he hissed.

We huddled in the shadows as I listened. Footsteps approached the end of the alleyway, slowing, hesitant.

"Which way you reckon he went?"

"No idea. Didn't they used to call you ‘eagle eye' Tom on account of seeing everything? You're not seeing much now."

"You offering I give you a taste of this?"

"Enough." A third voice cut into the others. "He's nowhere in sight, so we head back and report to Lady Catherine and let her decide."

"We could just go back to the house. Bet he'd run back if his ma and the girl were in trouble."

"Lady Hannah isn't to be harmed. She was clear on that. Like a rat, he'll return home—watch and wait."

They moved on as the sound of their footsteps drifted down the road. Long after the sound of their boots on stone faded away, I stood there, my chest heaving, my body trembling. I still held the metal pole tightly but finally let it clatter to the ground.

"Thanks, James," I wheezed, leaning against the damp brick wall.

He nodded, his face pale in the moonlight. "No problem. But you owe me that explanation. What the hell is going on, John? Those men…they were talking about you like you'd done something terrible."

"It's a long story, James," I said, pushing away from the wall. "And this ain't the best place or time. Come on."

"Where to?"

"Depends on what I need to know."

"You don't happen to know a good solicitor who'll work and get paid later?"

James stuck his hands in his pocket. "I might."

"I'm serious."

"Me too. Remember two years back, when the strike lasted a month? I needed money, so I did a man a favour helping him get some things."

"I don't think I want to know."

James grinned. "That's the spirit. Come on, sounds like a late-night visit is in order as long as you want to do whatever it is?"