“If they are taking us anyway,” Augusta said, “then perhaps I will choose where my feet go, rather than waiting for a man to pull me.”
Before Charity could grab her, Augusta shoved the door latch and pushed it open.
“Augusta,” Charity said sharply, and she reached for her sister’s arm, but Augusta was already half out, her boots hitting the road.
Matilda cried out, panic breaking through at last.
“Augusta, no….”
Charity’s heart slammed against her ribs. She could not let Augusta walk into a fight, not when she had promised herself she would not lose them again, so Charity lunged forward and pushed out of the carriage after her, not thinking of her ownsafety, only of her sister’s stubborn, furious back as she marched towards the men with her head high.
“Augusta,” Charity called, and she tried to catch up, her skirts tangling around her legs. “Come back, you are…”
“I am just fine, thank you,” Augusta responded.
It baffled Charity how much danger that Augusta had just willingly put herself into and felt helpless.
Thankfully, the men were busy in conversation with Duncan and had not yet noticed the both of them.
“What will make you stop this madness?” Charity found herself pleading.
“Well, for one thing, you stop ordering me around. And that your husband to be stops ordering us around as well,” she said. “I am not a child, and I can make my own decisions.”
“Make your own decisions elsewhere,” Charity got hold of her arm and tried to pull her back towards the carriage door.
But they had finally been noticed. The man who had been circling their carriage was upon them in an instant.
“My, my, my….” He grinned, “Who do we have here? His Grace did not mention that he was hiding such pretty young girls in there…”
A chill went down Charity’s spine, and Augusta realized then as well that she had made a terrible error.
They were in great danger now.
“Talk to us with respect,” Augusta said to the man.
“Respect, huh?” The man towered over Augusta. Charity tried to pull her back, but Augusta instead spat at the man.
All hell broke loose then, and suddenly the man retaliated by swinging his arm out to strike Augusta.
But before he could strike, the man fell towards the floor. A bang had followed before.
Duncan had shot at the man’s leg, rendering him unable to stand.
“Get behind me,” Duncan said, suddenly in front of them. “I had asked you not to step outside.”
The frustration in his tone was evident. Charity felt Duncan’s arm press back lightly, pushing them both away as he stepped forward into the man’s space.
“Now, don’t injure my men,” the head thief said. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Malcolm took his gun out as well, pointing at the men.
“If you move another inch,” Duncan warned, “I am going to shoot you down, and the rest of your men as well. Do you want that, or do you value your life?”
Charity realized that the men, while daunting, were not armed with a firearm of their own. Or they would have shot back by now.
Suddenly, they did not seem so outnumbered anymore.
Malcolm lunged in from the side, catching one man with a short, hard blow that dropped him. Even the driver had leapt down with a club in hand, swinging at another who had tried to come save the one who had been shot in the leg.