Chapter Four

I am startled awake by the vicious jostling of the carriage, and I look around sleepily at the little cabin. Amelie sits across from me, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the small book sitting nestled amongst the deep green folds of her dress on her lap. I eye the blue fabric cover and the golden embroidery across its spine. The title doesn't appear on the cover, and it is impossible to tell what she is reading from here.

"You read?" I ask quietly, wishing I had thought to smuggle one of my own books into a small bag for the carriage ride.

She nods and flips a page. "Books convey a wealth of knowledge I would not be privy to normally, given the perceived social limitations of my gender."

I blink, suddenly lost for words at the bold and brutally honest statement. I feel the answer resonate deeply inside of me and I dip my head in acknowledgement. I had never considered why I had such a desperate need to acquire books and I realize now it is because they convey experience and information I would never be allowed to obtain.

"I had never thought to put those words to it," I say reflectively. "What are you reading?"

Her deep blue eyes flick towards me. "James Brome's, Travels over England, Scotland, and Wales."

"Is it any good?" I ask as I shift into a more comfortable spot on my seat.

Amelie shrugs and closes the book gently, giving me her full attention. "It is dated. But it gives interesting insights as to the cultures from the perspective of an English clergy man."

"Is he an enlightened fellow or a by the book fellow?" I ask as I smooth my dress across my knees and shift, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in my tight corset.

"By the book," Amelie says quickly. "It is rather dry reading."

I cannot help the small smile that tilts at the corners of my mouth. The carriage lurches to a halt and I can hear the horses breathing heavily as if startled. Suddenly the wooden frame around us shakes violently, and I am thrown into Amelie who catches me and squeezes me into the seat beside her as she positions herself between me and the door. She manages to protect me from the worst of the bumps as the carriage creaks and cracks alarmingly.

There is a terrible scream from outside that breaks midway and ends in a gurgle. My heart pounds as the sound awakens a terror within me, I did not realize I possessed, and my hand flies to my mouth to smother the shocked noise that tries to escape my lips.

"Bandits," I breathe as the sounds of violence fill the space around the carriage.

Men yell and grunts of pain drift through the wooden walls of our carriage and I glance around the space realizing our protective cocoon is also a cage with only one real exit. Amelie moves to peek out of the curtains and the carriage rocks violently again and we are thrown to the side. My shoulder screams its displeasure as it is rammed against the solid wall, and I bite my lip hard to keep the whimper in. A terrifying crack fills the space as the sound of wood splintering comes from the front right wheel and the carriage slumps at an angle. As the carriage stills, all that can be heard is the sound of hoof beats pounding into the distance.

The wooden frame around us is on a terrifying lean but doesn't seem to want to move any further, it seems the carriage has become caught on something on the way down. I am pressed painfully against the side of the carriage, and it is fortunate the window my head is resting against did not break. I wipe my eye and my hand comes away with a stream of red.

Amelies eyes flick to my head and she moves around the wobbly carriage to look at my eye. "You will be okay, head wounds bleed a lot. Try to add pressure to it."

She checks the windows and peers through the ones closest to the ground. "A tree has halted our fall. But this carriage is unstable." She looks around and chews her bottom lip. "It would be a last resort to get out through there. We could easily be crushed if the tree gives way.

"It is unfortunate the carriage has been damaged in this manner," I say as I press my scarf to my bleeding head.

"That, or this whole thing is very organized," Amelie says as she shoves her book into the handle of the carriage door, effectively jamming it. She turns to me and presses a knife into my hand. I look at it dimly. I have no idea how to use a knife against an attacker.

"Do not use this, unless you see me go down," she instructs in a quiet voice. "And only if you cannot see a way to escape."

I swallow as I realise, the knife is not for me to use on any attackers. It is to prevent any misery that they may inflict upon me should I be taken. The carriage lurches and I brace myself on the walls as best I can. The door handle struggles, and the book is wedged enough that it is preventing the door from being opened. However, even I know the solution is temporary.

"John, get over ere'," a deep voice grunts as the door rattles again. "The damn things jam'd."

"Probably happened when the horse bolted and cut loose the wheel," a man, presumably John, replies in a smooth and well-articulated voice.

I raise an eyebrow. People with these kinds of differences do not usually communicate with one another. Especially not in a way that seems equal.

"Never mind da reason, get over ‘ere and ‘elp."

The carriage shakes as someone climbs up the side and the door creaks frighteningly as they tug together. The door groans and I can see the wood on the hinges beginning to crack through the paint.

"On the count of three," the voice of John replies. "One, two." Amelie grabs the book and removes it from the handle. "Three."

With nothing to keep the door wedged, it flies open with such force the two men topple off the side and into the dirt below. Amelie springs out of the carriage and lands between the two of them in an elegant flow of movements. I drag myself towards the open door and peek over the side, the glass a mere two hand spans from the ground cracks under my weight. I shift and place my feet on the wooden frame around it. I return my attention to Amelie who moves with amazing grace as the two heavily muscled men lumber around her.

"Is dis the one we need?" A man with sandy blonde hair and a missing right ear asks.

"It doesn't matter Eric. Kill everyone." Says a man in a fine pressed suit with slicked back black hair.

My eyes fall to the blood stains splattered all over his white shirt and I swallow, my gaze catches a bloodied leg off the side of the carriage. Thankfully the rest is hidden by the twisted wood above it. I grip the knife in my hand tightly as the man with sandy blonde hair spots me.

Amelie launches herself at the well-dressed man and they dance around each other with daggers in their hands. I am transfixed by the way they move, it is like an elegant high stakes dance and watching her move as she spars with her opponent has my heart racing and my stomach in knots.

My attention is suddenly diverted as Eric moves towards me with an evil grin. "Well, ain't you lovely." He spins his knife in his hands and grabs lewdly at the front of his pants. "Ever been wit a real man lil dove?"

I crinkle my nose, and fear like I have never felt before kicks at my chest. I try to back away, but my rapid movement causes the carriage to sway alarmingly and the tree holding it up groans before it finally gives way. The whole thing crashes to the ground and a rain of glass showers me. Covering my head, I frantically search for cover and only manage the meagre protection from the thick curtains. As everything settles, I glance around, hardly daring to believe my luck. A large crack has opened in the bottom of the carriage, and I kick at it, trying to widen it enough to get out. As the wood splinters I catch sight of a deep green dress as the man with sandy blonde hair is pulled to the ground with a thud. The carriage shakes and only then do I realize he must have been scaling the side.

John grabs Amelie's ash blonde hair and jerks her backwards, his suit smudged with dirt and more blood, very likely from his now streaming nose and busted lip. Amelie pulls a knife from her dress and sticks it in his leg. He bellows in pain and jerks her hair violently but refuses to let go as Eric climbs to his feet and moves towards me.

I glance back at Amelie through my little fist sized peep hole as she drops to the ground and moves so fast, I can't really be sure how she has done it, but her thighs are around his neck and her stockings are revealed all the way to her garters. She holds his head firmly, preventing him from pulling away and in just a few moments he is slumped and unconscious. Suddenly my view is blocked by a dirty face and sandy blonde hair.

He grins revealing yellowed teeth and several black gaps where they are missing at the front. "Ello girly."

I scream and jerk backwards as he jumps up the side of the carriage and reaches for me. He grabs the front of my dress at the chest and the fine material rips, revealing the corset underneath. I grope around in the broken glass for the knife I had dropped in the fall. My hand finds a particularly large shard and I slice his forearm with it. He hisses with pain as blood wells from the wound and an arm slips around his neck from behind and Amelie throws them both from the carriage to the ground. They hit it hard, but she never lets him go and his eyes bulge as he struggles weakly. It seems to take an agonizing amount of time before he stills.

She climbs out from under him and calls out, "Elizabeth!"

"I am okay," I call back, abandoning my attempts at trying to get a large enough hole in the wooden floor and try to pull myself out through the doorway. The gap is so high I can only just grip it and my feeble attempts at pulling myself up through it are almost laughable. I sigh in frustration, sure I would have more success if I wasn't weighed down by a dress half my weight.

The carriage rocks again and my head snaps up as Amelie's head pops into view. "Are you okay?"

"I am alive," I reply, not yet willing to assess how this situation may have affected my mentality. She reaches out for me and together we are able to haul me from the wreckage, she guides me safely down the side and checks me over.

I suck in a pained breath, and she locks eyes with me. "Those ribs will need to be checked," she declares. "It is possible it is just bruising, but after a fall like that, we need to be sure." She looks around at the seemingly abandoned roadside. "We cannot do it here."

I nod and eye the sandy blonde man with distaste even as he lays deathly still. "It would be my preference not to disrobe here."

She settles me on the ground and leans me against the underside of the ruined carriage. "Stay here, I need to see to the horse."

My eyebrows shoot up as I become aware of the struggling creature. I can see its hooves from here as they try and fail to get firm purchase on the ground. The poor creature must be trapped on its side still attached to the wagon.

Amelie moves over to the creature and calms it with a soothing voice. I cannot see what happens, but there is a snap, and the horse is quick to struggle to its feet. It tries to bolt, but Amelie swings onto its back and pulls it in using what remains of the tangled reins. It rears and whinnies in terror and with a calm voice she reassures the beast that it is safe and slowly its movements become less agitated. Once the horse has settled, she guides it to a tree away from the wreckage and returns to me,

"All the attendants are dead," she says in a flat voice. "It is best you do not move around the back of the carriage. It is not something you need to see."

"Thomas?" I ask quietly. She nods and I feel a prickle of tears. "He was so young."

She gestures to the men lying in the dust on the road. "We might be able to get answers," she says in a low voice. "The blonde is dead, but the one dressed like a gentleman could still be question—." she breaks off and darts towards the man with black hair as he tips something from his ring into his mouth and begins to seize violently. He is dead before she can pry the ring from his hand.

She sits back on her knees. "Bollocks."

My eyebrow raises at her use of profane language, but I cannot help but agree that it is the most appropriate word for the situation. "So much for finding out who was behind this," I say.

She nods as she rubs a reddening mark on her jaw. "It is unfortunate."

I look around the deserted road and at the wreckage beside us. "If we stay here into the evening, we will be asking for trouble."

"We are not far from your betrothed's country house, we could ride from here. It would only take about an hour," Amelie says as she rummages through the dead attackers' clothes.

"Would it not be, unseemly to arrive on horseback?" I ask, thinking of the way Mother would respond to such an idea.

"Do you want to stay here and just hope someone friendly comes by?" Amelie asks, in a clipped tone.

I shake my head as my eyes dart around the quiet woods that surround us. For the middle of the morning, it is deathly quiet, as if even the creatures that live here are afraid to make any sound that might draw attention to them.

I look down at my ripped dress and try to pull the torn material back together in a way that might restore my modesty before I am introduced to my soon to be husband. I feel my face crinkle at the thought, and I carefully force it back into something neutral. Amelie's eyes flick down to my ripped boddice and linger there for a moment, and I swallow as heat rises from my chest into my cheeks at the look in her eyes.

"As lovely as that view is, you cannot travel the countryside like that," she says glancing around for my trunk. "It will only draw unwanted attention."

"The view is lovely?" I repeat quietly as my brows furrow at her choice of words. However, Amelie is off towards the destroyed carriage without a word, seemingly oblivious to my question.

Amelie disappears around the side of the wreckage, and I can hear her tug at the heavy trunk. I move to help but I take only one step before I recall Amelie's words about what lay on the other side of the twisted frame, and I think better of it. When she returns, she is holding a white strip of fine lace that is not mine, a short sword, and a bloodied parcel of wrapped silk. My heart jumps for a moment when I realize it is my stack of books. As she walks past the men, she plunges the sword into their stomachs, and I cannot help the jolt of surprise and the squeal that comes from my mouth.

"Almost everything in your trunk is unusable," she says as if the strange violation of the dead had not just occurred as she sets the silk wrapped package carefully on the ground. "The unfortunate driver had his own sword used against him. He was pinned to your trunk and many things in there will not be salvageable."

"He was—." My hand flies to my mouth as I realize what she is saying. "The sword, was still?"

"Not anymore, I removed the fellow along with the others and placed them with dignity under a nearby tree," she replies in such a casual way that has me certain this has not been her first confrontation with violent death.

"Thank you." I say quietly. "It will mean a great deal to their families. I will see that my father pays them a handsome sum for their sacrifice." I look towards the carriage. "Without their men, many will struggle without it."

Amelie nods and holds up the lace. "Everything else is soiled and this is not the best place for you to change. So, we will have to get creative." She pulls out a small knife from one of her hidden pockets and holds it up. "Do not be afraid, I am just going to make some cuts to the front of your dress."

"But that is the problem," I protest as I stare down at the torn material.

"Do you trust me?" she asks.

"I just met you," I say defensively but as I look into her deep blue eyes, I knew without a doubt that I did. I rub my face and say in only a lightly defeated tone, "Yes."

She steps in and with two effortless slices the frayed edges of the rips are gone leaving smooth lines where jagged had been. She holds the lace up. "Now tuck this in as smooth as you can make it."

I take the lace and do as I am bid. I frown despite myself as I look down at the lace nestled across my breasts. "This is going to raise some eyebrows."

Amelie laughs and swings herself and the silk package up onto the horse. "Everything about you raises eyebrows."

"Amelie," I say as I take the hand she offers me and swing up onto the horse with her help.

"Yes?" she replies as I wrap my arms around her firm waist.

I chew my lips as I think about how forward some of her comments have been. If she were a man, I would be absolutely certain those comments were an expression of interest. But Amelie is a woman, and women are interested in men. I shake my head, sure she is just being lavish with her compliments.

I force away the question and instead I ask, "Do you think we can get there in less than an hour?"

"Do you know how to ride a horse?" she asks twisting to lock eyes with me.

Something about proximity makes my eyes dart to her light pink lips. "Yes," I breathe.

She grins. "Then hold on."

We jerk forward in a gallop and while it is different to riding a horse solo, it is easy to get the hang of. I smile at the thought of what Mother would think. My Uncle Ronald had paid for me to have many horse-riding lessons, Mother had hated every minute of it.

To see me riding double and making no attempt to maintain a poised side saddle would likely make Mother faint. I let out a laugh that gets caught by the wind and I hold tightly to Amelie as we speed away from the destruction behind us.