He left his friend digging around in his pockets for another penny for each of the children and hurried after Poppy before she vanished again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Poppy didn’t even bother to glance at the huge lumbering carriage that rolled past and splashed mud all over her skirts as she crossed the busy coaching yard. She was too busy rummaging around in her bag for her ticket, all the while trying to decide whether she had time to get something to eat before her carriage departed for Cumbria. The last thing she wanted to do was miss it because she would then have wait for the next one tomorrow. As far as she was concerned now, the sooner she got out of London the better. She was sick and tired of the constant noise, choking smog, and crowded streets, and yearned for the fresh air and open space of the countryside.
The last few days had passed so incredibly slowly that it felt as though her life back in Cumbria, or what was left of it, was a world away from where she was now. Since leaving the hovel she had found rather dubious lodgings in a tavern not so very far away from where she stood. While it had been dry, relatively warm, and offered better food than what she had eaten at the hovel, it was noisy and overlooked an industrial wasteland which belched out thick plumes of smoke and haze that added to the smog that had settled over London, and didn’t appear to want to lift. The constant comings and goings of the other lodgers at all hours of the day and night had made rest virtually impossible. As a result she had, disconcertingly, spent many, many hours thinking about Luke Brindley.
Where was he? What was he doing? Would she ever see him again?
Today’s choker had seemingly come out of nowhere and appeared suddenly only ten minutes ago. It was so thick that she struggled to see the tavern door at the far end of the yard. She had been in London long enough now to know exactly what it was when it descended, but had quickly learned that nobody seemed to know how long it would remain. Still, life continued unabated. She wondered if people in London ever saw daylight during the winter-time. Today, it was only ten o’clock in the morning, but felt, and looked, more like dawn.
Before she went inside she took a moment to study the yard. A thick layer of smog gave everything a somewhat surreal haze that was eerily disturbing and, eager to get inside she turned away with a shudder. Clutching her ticket tightly in cold fingers, she eyed the doorway to the tavern and mentally ran through the money she had left in her pocket. She had enough to purchase a meal and there was just enough time to eat it as long as she ate quickly. It wasn’t that she
was in a rush per se, it was just that she was horribly aware the coaching inn was not far from the hovel. Even Clarence, as lazy as he was, would be able to walk to it if he had decided to look for her.
Since she had left the hovel she had kept her head down in her lodgings and had only ventured out when the smog was thick enough to protect her. As a consequence of her new life of subterfuge and hiding, she felt a veritable prisoner in her own, somewhat temporary, home and hated it. Wherever she ended up, it was going to be nice to be able to walk around in a place that wasn’t shrouded in constant gloom.
“’Ere, watch out,” a drayman cried as he dragged a box across the yard inches from her toes.
She jumped back just in time to avoid a painful injury and threw the man an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she murmured as he stomped past with a scowl on his face.
Once the coast was clear she tried once more to get to the doorway of the tavern without sustaining personal injury. Suddenly, a large cloaked figure dressed entirely in black loomed out of the haze and swept toward her with frightening speed. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of a ghostly hint of face hidden deep within the depths of the over-large hood, but she didn’t get to see any of the features before they were upon her, and slammed into her before she could move out of the way. Winded, she hit the ground with a heavy thud. Struggling for breath, all she could do was stare blankly at the sky for a moment. She was barely there for a moment before a loud rumbling noise snapped her out of her daze.
“Watch out!” a voice cried from somewhere in the region of her feet.
Before Poppy could summon the energy to move she was suddenly hauled high into the air. She had the vague sense that she was dangling inches from the ground for a split second before she was hauled against something solid and held secure while she was swung to safety.
“Are you all right?” Luke demanded. With his arms locked around Poppy’s waist he kept her still while he studied the figure in black. He watched it disappear swiftly into the gloom without a backward look and cursed at just how close they had come to hurting Poppy.
“My bags,” Poppy murmured. She struggled against his tight hold so she could search for her bags. Her heart raced with fear as she scoured the shadows for signs of her precious belongings. She needed them. Without her clothes and money she had no future. Panic began to build. Desperate to get her bags before a coach ran over them, or someone else appeared out of the fog to help themselves, she lunged toward them and snatched them up.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Luke snarled. He hauled her back into his arms just as another carriage tore into the yard mere inches from where she had stood. He eyed her bags which were now soaked and caked in mud, and promised himself right there and then that he was going to take a look inside, even if he had to sit on her to keep her out of the way while he did.
“Let me go,” Poppy gasped. She shoved roughly at his hands and took several steps away from the busy entrance of the tavern so she could assess the damage to her bags. “Oh dear,” she whispered when she felt them squelch beneath her fingers. Sensing movement, she glanced up and felt her stomach drop to her toes to find herself looking straight into Luke Brindley’s gorgeous eyes.
Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the darkly garbed figure dressed entirely in black who now stood several feet behind him, just inside the entrance of the yard. Now that the figure was motionless she was able to see that deep inside the voluminous folds of the cloak was a woman. A woman who, right now, was studying her with such evil intent that Poppy took a wary step back, and braced herself in preparation for another strike.
Who was she? What did she want? Poppy clutched her bag tighter and watched the woman’s eyes drop to study it before the dark gaze slid insolently up to meet Poppy’s.
“What?” Poppy demanded with a scowl. She had no idea who this person was but had no intention of letting them believe she was an easy target. To her utter horror the figure surged forward again. Poppy stepped sideways, out of the way in case she intended to try to knock her over again. “Go away,” she protested.
“What is it?” Luke demanded harshly. He turned around and immediately saw the person who had very nearly killed Poppy moments ago.
“Give me the bag,” the woman snarled in a hoarse voice that was nothing short of evil.
“No,” Poppy declared flatly.
“Give me -”
“So, we meet again,” Luke murmured to the woman as he planted himself firmly in between both ladies. He had no idea what was in that bag that was so appealing to the woman but she wasn’t going to get her hands on it before he did. Luke eyed the woman’s cloak. She didn’t look like an ordinary mugger, so Luke wanted to know how she knew what Poppy had in there to want it so badly. His gaze locked with the woman’s, silently challenging her to accost him the same way she had Poppy. He poured every ounce of lethal menace he possessed into that steady stare. He was fairly certain she wasn’t anything to do with his investigation with the Star Elite. She was dressed no better than Poppy, but did that make her an opportunistic thief, or someone else?
The yard was practically littered with people from all walks of life, most of whom carried bags just like Poppy’s. There was no reason for this woman to target Poppy specifically unless she was after something in particular.
“I should have you arrested,” Luke drawled meaningfully. “You very nearly killed her.” He nodded to Poppy.
The woman stared at him and opened her mouth as though she intended to speak, but seemed to have second thoughts and closed it again without uttering a word. Instead she turned around and stepped blindly in front of a departing carriage that barely missed her. By the time the carriage had left the yard, the woman in black had once again vanished into the smog.
“I hope this time she doesn’t come back,” Poppy breathed tearfully.