Lies and Misdemeanours

“We have issues now,” he declared obliquely.

“Issues? What issues?” Hetty knew that he was referring to their marriage.

That morning, when they had stood side-by-side in the Head Jailer’s office and dedicated their lives to each other, was something that would always stand out in her memories. It had been as bittersweet, and heart-breaking, as it had been joyous. In spite of the starkness of their location, the special moment when he had slipped the ring on her finger and the Vicar had declared them to be man and wife was something she knew she would never forget.

“Jesus,” Charlie snapped. “Keep going, and keep your face blank.”

“What?” she frowned as his words snapped her out of her revere. It was only when she turned to look at him that she realised something was amiss.

Her gaze instinctively followed his and, when she saw what he was looking at, her stomach dropped to her toes.

There, heading directly toward them, in the direction of Derby, were four large black horses pulling an empty jailer’s cart.

“Look at me and pretend that we are deep in conversation. Don’t stop, Hetty. Don’t look at them,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

Although he tried desperately to keep his posture as relaxed as possible, his horse danced beneath the tension he inadvertently put into the reins.

“It is just a cart,” he said, although wasn’t entirely sure if he was trying to reassure her, or himself.

Hetty felt sick as she watched the horrible conveyance approach. She tried to keep her gaze averted, but found herself inevitably drawn to it again and again. It was horrible just to look at. The thought of actually sitting inside it made the apple she had enjoyed only a few minutes ago start to churn in her stomach.

The cart not only looked horrifying, but it was a stark reminder that they were not yet far enough away from Derby to be safe yet.

She was suddenly very grateful that he had managed to persuade her to change her outfit because the cloak felt like a mental barrier from the fear of being found at any moment. Not only was it considerably warmer than her dress, but it was a completely different colour and, when topped with the hat, made her look nothing like the woman who had been chased out of Derby with a condemned prisoner.

“Morning,” the driver called as he passed.

Charlie nodded. “Morning,” he replied.

Hetty, unwilling to speak, merely doffed her cap the way she had seen her brothers do on countless occasions. Thankfully, the cart had passed by the time she dropped her hand back into her lap, and she wasn’t required to speak.

She daren’t look behind her to see if the jailer suspected anything. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he said anything else to her, or the cart stopped so the driver could take a closer look at them.

She glanced over at Charlie, and watched his cheeks puff out on a sigh. Some of the tension eased from him, but he was still tense and nervous as he

scanned the road ahead. He rolled his eyes at her, but made no attempt to offer her any words of comfort. They both knew that danger was far too close for either of them to start to relax.

Charlie knew she was looking at him, seeking reassurance, but he wasn’t sure that he could manage to say anything right now. His heart felt as though it was lodged in his throat somewhere, and refused to budge. He struggled to swallow past the sudden dryness in his throat. In all of his life, he had never been as worried as he was now. Not even when he had been convicted and sentenced to death, and been dragged back to the cells had he really absorbed just how bad his situation was. Not even when he had been dragged through the condemned prisoner’s process on the morning of his supposed execution, had he felt this sick with nerves. He glanced down at the fine tremors that shook his hand and clenched his fist in an attempt to quell them. He hadn’t realised that the ordeal had bothered him so much, but it was evident that there were lingering issues that had yet to be dealt with.

It was a relief, in a way, that he had something else to think about; like getting to the safe house, because it kept his thoughts away from the ordeal of being on the gallows.

“We have to ride a bit faster,” she said quietly. “There isn’t enough distance between us and them.”

“We are not far away from Afferley now,” Charlie declared firmly. “If we keep going, we can be there tomorrow. It means that we will have to ride for as long as we can today, and are going to have to stay out overnight to make sure that we aren’t followed.”

“We can’t stay out overnight,” Hetty gasped. It was bad enough being outside in daylight. The thought of having to spend several long, cold hours out in the darkness was something she just couldn’t contemplate.

“We have to,” Charlie said flatly. His tone brooked no argument. “I will protect you, Hetty. Anyone who crosses our path from now on is going to regret the folly of it.”

As he spoke, the almost ruthless pleasure on his face sent a shiver of unease through Hetty. It looked as though he almost relished the challenge of being able to pitch his wits against Meldrew’s. It made her want to shake him, to reinforce the dangers they were in so that he understood, and didn’t take ridiculous risks with his life.

Had he learned nothing from being on the gallows?

“Charlie,” she sighed only to lapse into silence when he speared her with a hard look.

“Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for her to say anything else. He nudged his horse into a canter, and left her to stare after him.

Hetty watched him go for several moments before, with a sigh, she followed. If she had to, she would ride morning, noon, and night to leave Derby behind, but still couldn’t see the wisdom of spending a night outside.