The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins

Chapter Two

The sky was quickly growing dark. Dinah shifted a bit, changing around how she sat on the ever-hardening ground. Her legs tingled in protest, but she didn’t dare stand to stretch them fully. Cuddled up close to her, the little girl sighed loudly in her sleep at Dinah’s movement.

They had to get away from these men. Dinah chewed on her lower lip. There had to be a way to slip off without half a dozen guns being aimed in their direction. She had no idea how, though. She had been instructed to deliver the little girl to Mr. Harding after rescuing her. Perhaps when neither of them showed up, Mr. Harding would send someone their way. She sincerely hoped he would—but she didn’t believe just waiting to be rescued was a good plan.

She needed to do something.

At times like these, one could miss opportunities if one stopped to think too long.

When the moment came, she’d know it. And she would take it.

One of the men who’d been laughing earlier with Pock-Face stood and stretched. He glanced her way. His hair was red, his eyes icy blue, and one of the largest rings she’d ever seen on a man ornamented the smallest finger of his left hand. He smiled and, picking up a burlap sack, strolled over to her.

No sooner had the man taken one step in her direction that Dinah felt Black’s eyes land on her. Since their staring contest before, he hadn’t glanced her way once. But now, though she didn’t look in his direction, she knew he was watching her most carefully.

The man with blue eyes reached her and crouched down low. He pulled open the bag.

“Has the cat gotten hungry yet?” he asked, his tone as leering as before.

Dinah kept her mouth closed.

The man dropped his gaze and appeared to be rummaging through his bag, his ring catching a bit of sunlight and shining brightly. While he searched, he whispered so low, Dinah had to strain to hear him. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. Just don’t try anything stupid like bolting, got it?”

Dinah nodded. This had to be the man who had infiltrated the group some months ago.

Blue-Eyes took an apple out of his bag and handed it to her. “Eat this, then get some sleep. We aren’t moving for a couple of hours yet, but you’ll want your strength when we do.”

It was a huge relief to know she wasn’t alone. As Blue-Eyes stood and moved back to where he’d been resting before, Dinah’s eyes landed on Black.

He was watching her closely. Though the intense hatred from before seemed to have simmered down, he still looked at her with no small amount of malice.

Dinah scowled back, willing her gaze to carry every bit as much anger as his did. This time, he was the first to look away. Dinah took a bite of the apple. Her stomach rolled over greedily. Good heavens, but she was starving. She ate through the whole fruit quickly and then did as Blue-Eyes recommended and lay down fully. The ground was far from comfortable, but it was nothing compared to how vulnerable she felt as she lay on her side. Nonetheless, not a single man approached her or even glanced her way. They had looked at her enough when she’d first been caught. But now, it seemed her appearance was old news, not nearly as important to the men as their sleep.

She forced her eyes shut but kept a close ear out for any movement.

Time stretched on. After a while, Dinah finally heard someone move. The little girl sat up. Dinah opened one eye, but only a sliver, just enough to see what the little girl was about. It was far darker now than when Dinah had first shut her eyes. The little girl looked about the group. Then she lifted a hand and beckoned silently to someone.

Footsteps moved closer, and Black knelt down in front of the little girl.

“You need to sleep some more,” he said in a very low voice.

“Sing to me again?” the little girl said.

Dinah couldn’t see Black’s expression, but he clearly hesitated, his head swiveling around to look at the other men first and then her.

Dinah quickly shut her eye, curiosity winning out over a need to let him know she was watching him even now.

“Please?” the little girl begged.

Black let out a long, near-silent sigh. “Very well. But lie down first.”

The little girl crawled around until she was beside Dinah, then lay down directly beside her. The little girl even went so far as to pick up Dinah’s arm and drape it over herself. An intense, pulsing need to protect this little girl swelled up inside Dinah. Though Dinah was careful to keep her arm limp and continue the charade of sleeping, what she most sincerely wished to do was to pull the little girl in closer, kiss her on the top of her head, and tell her that somehow, everything was going to be all right.

Then Black began to sing.

His voice was as low as she’d expected, but she hadn’t anticipated how good he would sound. She’d rarely heard a more clear, more musical voice. So lost in the lilting tone, Dinah only caught a few words; something about horses sleeping and sparrows singing. It was a lovely lullaby. All too soon, he finished and moved away.

Dinah, her eyes still closed, could barely think straight. How had a ruffian and a smuggler come to sing so well? More still, not only was his voice and tone excellent, he’d sung with a softness, a beauty that was completely out of place when compared to his dark expression and current company. Dinah held the little girl closer to her. Black was a confusion, a contradiction. She didn’t understand him—yet another solid reason to steer clear of him.

Three individuals stood up, most suddenly, in the tall grass all around them. Dinah recognized the scarlet waistcoats. Bow Street Runners, thank the heavens.

“No one move,” one of the men said, aiming his gun at the reclining smugglers.

The other two individuals cocked their guns as well, the noise echoing about the silent field. One of them glanced Dinah’s way.

Mr. Harding. Dinah’s shoulders dropped. He had come.

Slowly, all the smugglers rose, hands up high. Dinah, too, scrambled to her feet, pulling the little girl up beside her.

Pock-Face was the last to his feet, getting up ever so slowly. With a sneer, he lunged forward, putting his shoulder deep into Mr. Harding’s stomach. Mr. Harding doubled over. Chaos erupted around them. Several guns fired. Blue-Eyes caught Dinah’s gaze and pointed off toward the road.

“Go!” he yelled.

Dinah didn’t need to be told twice. She took hold of the little girl’s hand, and off they ran. This time, she didn’t bother to stay down low and avoid being seen. They hardly had reason to care about moving quietly. They both ran as hard as they could, crashing through the brush and grass. They reached the road, but there were no horses Dinah could see. Mr. Harding and his men must have known a better place to hide their mounts than the man with the cart had. Dinah faced herself and the little girl toward London and pushed forward. She wasn’t about to wait around to be told to return home.

Footsteps told her someone else had reached the road.

Dinah glanced behind her and saw Blue-Eyes.

“This way,” he called, motioning the other direction.

Dinah stopped, her brow dropping. “Town is this way.” She was sure of it.

Blue-Eyes shook his head. “You must be turned around. It’s this way.”

Dinah never got turned around. Why was he wanting her to go the wrong way? A tingle of uncertainty slipped up her back. She pulled the little girl closer to her. “Town is this way, and that’s where we’re headed.”

Black appeared suddenly, between her and London. His rifle was raised, and it was pointed not at her but at Blue-Eyes.

“The lady’s right,” Black said. “And I suggest you let her leave.”

Blue-Eyes lifted his rifle, cocking it and aiming it at Black. “She’s coming with me.”

Dinah’s stomach flipped. Both men stood, suspended in the stand-off.

“Just walk toward me,” Blue-Eyes didn’t lower his rifle as he spoke, “and I’ll do as I promised and keep you both safe.”

“He’s just another smuggler,” Black said, drawing Dinah’s gaze his way. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

The little girl clutched at Dinah’s skirt and let out a small whimper. Dinah felt the same way. Who was she to trust?

Blue-Eyes did have a kind smile, and hadn’t he already said he’d keep her safe? It was just the sort of thing a Bow Street Runner working for Mr. Harding would do. But then her mind flitted back to the way Black had sung to the little girl. What sort of smuggler would take the time to sing a little girl to sleep?

Somewhere, deep in her gut, Dinah knew whom she needed to trust. Holding tight to the little girl, she took a single step toward Black.

Blue-Eyes cursed loudly, swinging his rifle toward her. The blast of Black’s gun exploded through the night air and Blue-Eyes dropped to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Black didn’t even glance Dinah’s way as he ran past her and tackled the man. The scuffle that ensued was quick and ended with Blue-Eyes on his stomach on the road, his hands tied behind his back and his rifle too far away for him to reach.

Dinah stood nearly motionless as Black righted himself and finally looked her way.

Dinah opened her mouth. “I take it you are . . .” The terror of the night was making it hard to speak.

He gave her a firm nod. “I’m Crow.”

Thank the heavens.

“And you,” he stalked toward her, his tone hard, “must be the one Mr. Harding sent to quietly slip in and get Adele out of here.”

Despite all she’d just been through, Dinah’s jaw tightened, and her lips pursed. “Perhaps if you’d done a better job at distracting the others, we could have gotten away.”

He stood near her now, a finger coming out and pointing at her chest. “Do you have any idea what you just ruined? The months it has taken me to infiltrate the group this far?”

Dinah shoved his hand away. “We just stopped criminals tonight, sir, and saved a little girl’s life. Not to mention we escaped with our own lives.” There had been a time only moments ago when she hadn’t been certain she would.

He pulled his hand away and rubbed it over his face. “Months wasted,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Well, nothing he said was going to make her feel bad about all they’d managed to do that night. She’d followed her instincts and, as usual, they’d not failed her. Though she was going to have words with Mr. Harding about the men he paid to drive carts. But for now, she was already hours late getting home.

“Pardon me, sir,” Dinah said, even as the man before her continued to mutter. “But I need to return home immediately. Where are the horses?”

“How should I know?” he barked.

Well. She would be informing Mr. Harding that she was never working with Crow again, not if he was going to act so rudely.

Mr. Harding appeared at that very moment. “I’ve got a horse for each of you right here.” He held the reins to two mounts, stretching them out toward Dinah and Crow. “I’ll take Adele from here.” He passed the horses off and then knelt before the little girl. “Your father misses you. If you come with me, I’ll see that you are returned to him as soon as possible.”

The little girl looked up at Dinah; she seemed to be asking for permission. Or, perhaps, reassurance.

Dinah placed a hand on little Adele’s back. “It’s all right. I know this man, and he’s a good one. He’ll take care of you.”

Adele silently looked over Mr. Harding for a minute and then walked toward him. Mr. Harding reached out and took her small hand in his as he stood.

“Don’t worry about this mess,” he said to Crow while motioning toward Blue-Eyes, still lying on the road not far off. “My men will see to them. You go ahead and see Miss Dinah Mulgrave home and then get a good night’s sleep yourself. We’ll figure out our next step tomorrow.”

Dinah and Crow shared a look. It was immediately obvious that he cared to see her home as much as she cared to have him escort her.

“Pardon me, sir.” Dinah spoke first. “But I am quite capable of seeing myself home.”

Mr. Harding shot her a glance that clearly showed he thought her comment absurd. “It’s nearly three-quarters of an hour between here and your father’s townhouse.”

“I assure you I am quite capable.” Before her father had been knighted, she’d ridden three-quarters of an hour away from home and back again, alone, multiple times.

“And,” Crow spoke at last, “I am sure I will be of more help here, seeing to the smugglers.”

“Are you suggesting that we neglect our duties to the fairer sex, Crow?”

At those words, the man stood up straighter. “No, sir. Of course not.”

Dinah eyed the way Crow held himself, tall and straight, resolute. She doubted he ever reneged on his responsibility, no matter the inconvenience.

“Good man,” Mr. Harding said. “Now help Miss Dinah Mulgrave mount, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply—one that was as deep as it was immediate.

Mr. Harding bowed slightly in Dinah’s direction and still holding Adele’s hand, turned and walked away.

Dinah hated to see the little girl go. If she were mistress of her own house instead of needing to worry about slipping in and out of Father’s, she would have volunteered for Adele to stay with her for the night. As it was, she couldn’t imagine keeping a little girl in her room all night long without at least a maid finding out. Then all would be ruined.

“Miss?”

Dinah turned to find Crow waiting beside the smaller of the two horses, clearly ready to help her up.

Dinah walked toward him. No sooner had she neared him than he wrapped his hands around her waist and easily lifted her onto the horse. He all but threw the reins in her direction and stomped over to the other horse. It was all rather sudden, and Dinah was left sitting atop her mount, her midsection aflame with tingles where he’d touched her.

“Come along, then,” he said, his tone no less harsh than before.

Dinah drew in a breath, willing her stomach and heart to settle as she urged her horse forward and followed him down the dark road.

* * *

Dinah stayed silent as long as she could, but after a half-hour, the silence was growing unbearable.

“I know my way home from here,” she called to him. He hadn’t even shown enough common courtesy to ride alongside her but instead had chosen to ride in front of her. And at a very brisk pace, too.

“I’ll see you all the way,” was all he called back.

They turned down the street that held Father’s townhouse. Dinah’s gaze moved up the full length of her current home. They must be so worried over her. She’d never dreamed of staying away so long when she’d first slipped off earlier that afternoon.

“Stop here,” she said, pulling her own mount to a halt.

Crow stopped as well, glancing back at her with his brow low.

“If we ride any closer, someone might spot me from the window. But if I approach on foot and slip in through the servants’ door, I doubt anyone will give me a second glance.” She dismounted on her own, then looked up and found Crow also climbing down from his saddle.

“You can just take the horses and leave. I can see the townhouse from here, and I am sure I will be quite all right.”

“I’ll see you all the way,” he repeated, even more frustration in his tone than before.

Now he was just being ridiculous. She could see home, for heaven’s sake. What kind of a child did he take her to be? Not caring to push the matter, Dinah looped the reins of her horse around a nearby fence and walked quickly forward. She heard Crow do the same and fall into step just behind her.

She chose not to glance back his way.

Dinah reached the corner of the house and quickly began descending the narrow flight of stairs that would lead her to the servants’ door. Now that she was within such easy distance of her own bedchamber, exhaustion flooded through her. She would cry off tonight’s dinner party and instead spend the entire evening in her own room. Nothing sounded more heavenly than her own pillows and blankets.

Dinah reached for the knob of the servants’ door.

Except, just as she was closing her fingers about it, the door swung open. Dinah took three fast steps backward, colliding into Crow’s chest. She righted herself and stepped away from him quickly.

Lady Charlotte Blackmore burst out of the house. “Dinah, dearest, where have you been?”

Dinah’s stomach churned with guilt at Charlotte’s tone. It was firm yet saturated with worry.

“I’m sorry—” Dinah got no further before Father stormed out the door as well.

He took one look at her, at Crow, and his eyes lit as though they were on fire. In a single step, he was beside Crow, shoving the man against the wall of the house. With an arm across Crow’s chest, Father pinned him there.

“You, sir, have a lot of explaining to do.”