24. Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-four

When she found Phineas, she would wring his neck.

And she would find him. She must.

She had to tell him how stupid he was.

Rosanna paced the length of the library. Using her riding crop, she flipped the curtains open a smidge. She’d recognise Pennington’s messenger anywhere. He’d bruised her cheek and torn her dress. A brute like that left an impression.

She’d been on the landing, about to follow Phineas’s order to return to her room, when a blast of fury had engulfed her. Only the night before, he’d promised her a marriage of equals, and then he had asserted his authority at the first opportunity. Instead of toddling back to take her dutiful place between the sheets, she had spun on her heel, taking each step in silence as he’d taught her. She was going to follow him to the kitchens, sneak in to find him confused and fumbling, and remind him who he was married to. Three steps down and she’d heard another voice. Heard the threat and his ready concession that she was better off without him.

Who did he think he was, treating her like a helpless damsel? When she found him, she would set him straight. Rosanna stifled a sob against her riding glove and choked her panic down. She would find him before Pennington hurt him. She would.

Felix tapped on the door. ‘Mr Brown has saddled Lovelace. And I don’t know if Miss Hartright received it, but we sent your message between staff, over the walls. Letitia went on a reconnaissance mission. There’s the man across the road, and one on each end of the lane that runs along the length behind the stables. Only the one across the street is very attentive though. The other two—’

‘Seem to think that they’ve got an easy job on their hands, and that a woman alone is weak and easy to bully?’

Felix smirked. ‘I’d wager they’re thinking something like that. I delivered a message to your brother, but I think a few others may have overheard…’

Felix jolted forwards as Johannes pushed him aside to squeeze through the doorway. In his wake, a steady stream of family followed. Elliot and Beatrice, even Ammie and Nova, all of them loud and clamouring with questions. Father brought up the rear end of the rabble. He clapped his hands twice, then again. The group settled.

‘What’s this I hear about Babbage needing a rescue party?’ he asked.

‘Pennington tracked him down and threatened me if he didn’t go with him to the bank.’ Rosanna tapped her riding crop against her skirt in a failed attempt to concentrate her nervous agitation. ‘He’s got men watching the house, and if Phineas doesn’t do what he says, they’re to come after me. And instead of asking for my help, he’s gone off to deal with Pennington alone.’

Father gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Your husband is an idiot. Other people make us stronger, not weaker. Your mother taught me that, and when is she ever wrong?’

‘Never,’ Rosanna said. From Johannes to Elliot to Beatrice, even the smaller children, all of them nodded, like they were believers in the only truth in the world. And maybe they were. They all made her stronger, even when all she wanted to do was scream at them and run away. ‘He’s not used to having people he can rely on.’

‘What’s the plan, Rosie?’ Elliot asked.

‘Any chance you can create a distraction?’ she replied.

Elliot raised a hand in salute. ‘Distraction is my middle name.’

Rosanna directed the family where she needed them to be. She set Ammie and Nova by the window, with the very important job of hollering as loud as they could if they saw the man across the way take more than a few steps. Beatrice paced the hallway with Letitia and Hugh, all of them claiming they had learnt how to fight on the stage, and the real thing couldn’t be that much harder. Elliot slunk off home, only to return with a mischievous grin and a bag full of thin cylinders wrapped in white paper. Johannes hung about in the entrance, waiting.

Father followed her to the stables. Mr Brown had Lovelace saddled and waiting, and he rubbed the horse’s flank. Her father knelt and interlocked his hands. Rosanna placed her foot in his palms, and with a jolt, he lifted her into the seat. With a fluid follow through, he rose to standing, and as she settled herself into her side-saddle, he rubbed at dirt and bits of fluff. He’d always been larger than the full moon to her, an enormous figure of determination and strength, but as she looked down from her seat astride Lovelace, he seemed older and more worried than she ever remembered him being. A thin line of grey hair tucked behind his ear.

‘I want to stay married to Phineas,’ she blurted out. ‘We’ve come to care for one another. Love one another.’

‘You want to—pardon?’

‘If you tell me any different, I won’t—’

Father raised his palm. ‘You’ve always known your own mind. If you say you want to stay, then you stay. Don’t expect us to go carolling together, but I’ll tolerate the man. For you.’

‘He baited you on purpose. He said friends would make him slow, but really, I think he’s scared of people leaving.’ Rosanna adjusted her skirt. Was it normal to be a translator between a parent and a husband? To plead a case for understanding between two people who refused to see eye to eye? ‘I’ve never understood why you rose to it, every time.’

‘He took the house on the end of the row, with the extra windows. I promised your mother those windows.’

‘I’m sure she doesn’t mind.’

‘I mind.’ Father scratched Lovelace behind the ear. ‘Once Johannes has dealt with the man across the street, we’ll run a back route to the bank. If you get there before us, you wait. Understand?’

Horseshoes clipped against the stones. Rosanna pressed her heels into Lovelace’s side. She hung back a little in the shadows until Elise came into view. She’d dressed in a black habit, just as Rosanna had asked, and not a blonde curl showed beneath her hat, the same style that Rosanna was wearing. The men at either end of the street would see nothing more than a streak of horse and a too-confident woman.

‘You have so much explaining to do,’ Elise said.

‘I cannot wait to tell you everything, but first we need to help Phineas.’ Rosanna reached out to her friend, who reciprocated and squeezed her fingers.

‘I’ll go this way.’ Elise nodded straight ahead. ‘Then I’ll ride down Honeysuckle Street to catch the other man’s attention. Once both men are in pursuit, you make your escape. I’ll lose my hat so that they can see their error, and hopefully run for fear of what Pennington will do to them.’

‘You do know that once you start riding fast down the street, it’s all people will talk about. You will never recover your reputation,’ Rosanna said.

‘I’ve often thought that a reputation is an overrated thing. Are you ready?’

The lethargic quiet of morning chirped and hummed into the expectant tension that hung between them. Rosanna, breath crumpling in her lungs, swallowed hard. She would find him. She would.

A high-pitched squeal rent the air, and then, above them, light scattered and cracked as one of Elliot’s firecrackers exploded. The faint white streaks sat stark against the grey smog of a London morning. Elise adjusted her position in her seat, then threw Rosanna a grin. ‘On my mark…’ she whispered. A second cracker fractured the air. ‘Go!’

Lovelace nickered as Elise and Starby sped out of sight. Rosanna leant forward and rubbed her horse’s mane. ‘You’ve got this, my girl.’ Another crack and fizzle as one of Elliot’s creations shot into the morning sky, and horseshoes echoed at the opposite end of the street. Rosanna cast a look up at the townhouses standing side by side, one which held her past, the other her future. She squeezed her knees against Lovelace’s flanks, and the two of them bolted into the day.

Rosanna leant low, contorting her body to balance out the uncomfortable combination of her saddle and her speed. Around her, London shuffled itself awake in a blur as she left Honeysuckle Street behind. Carts and drays, newspaper boys and bootlicks, flower sellers and beggars fell away and like the ticking metronome of the city, Lovelace’s hooves clipped against the stones.

Finally, she reached the bank. Rosanna swung off Lovelace and landed on the pavement outside, where Father and Johannes were already waiting. As Rosanna looped Lovelace’s reigns to a tethering post, Father rubbed a line of sweat from his brow, and half-bent to draw a deep breath. Johannes laughed and patted their father’s back, possibly enjoying his competency over Father a little more than was polite.

‘It’s still closed,’ Johannes said. ‘How can we get inside?’

‘Rosie, I can’t break into a bank,’ Father said, his puffs easing. ‘Even for me, that’s too far. If we were caught, the outcome for the family would be catastrophic.’

‘Mrs Babbage? Can I help you?’

‘Mr Robinson!’ Rosanna cried, scarce believing her luck. The young clerk had helped her make her way to the clerk’s office a few weeks before. ‘Are you starting work early?’

Robinson nodded. ‘I’ve been working hard at my ledgers. I’m hoping to make my way up a little in the bank. Maybe earn a little more in wages. Mr Babbage has been ever so helpful in giving me advice.’

‘Phineas came in early, but I was asleep when he left. I missed him and thought he might like a short break for some tea and a proper breakfast. Especially since my family here is available when they are usually not… Is there any chance you could show me down to his office again?’

‘I’m not supposed to…’

Rosanna smiled, then swayed. ‘I know he won’t be cross with you. He’ll be ever so appreciative. I just know it.’

‘Once more won’t hurt, I suppose. But this can’t become a habit,’ Mr Robinson said emphatically. He led the way through a side door, along a dimly lit hall, and down a set of stairs.

‘Mrs Babbage…’

‘Yes?’

‘This is your brother. And your father.’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Do you by any chance have a sister?’

Behind them, Lawrence growled, menacing as a lion.

‘I do,’ Rosanna said, the lightness in her voice betraying her fear. ‘She’s seventeen, and not yet debuted.’

‘I am nineteen, and I haven’t debuted either. That is, I mean… I’m not so good with society. I avoid it when I can,’ he confessed.

‘My sister Beatrice is very confident. Perhaps you can join her dramatics club?’

Mr Robinson rolled his mouth to suppress a smile. ‘Perhaps I might.’ At the doorway to the clerks’ offices, he glanced across the room, frowning. ‘He must have stepped out for a moment. He’s normally at his desk right here. He works with Mr—Mr Taylor!’ Robinson waved. ‘Have you seen Mr Babbage?’

Fury propelled Rosanna across the room and between the desks. A flick of her riding crop wiped the smug smile from his face, and Taylor, who she would bet ten years of her allowance was not Taylor but the fiend who had started all of this, let out a yelp. ‘You dare to threaten me?’ She levelled her crop at his chest. ‘Where is my husband?’

His hard eyes narrowed. ‘Safe.’