Page 74 of Disciplined by the Duke
Her chest swelled. She was one of the few people privileged enough to have seen behind his mask, to know his warmer expressions. He nodded minutely, trying to reassure her. She took a deep breath. “I didn’t see who attacked me. Whoever it was came from behind.”
“Well, we have the duke’s word for it,” Tall Guard said. “That’s all the proof we need.”
“But . . .” The innocent man gave up on his protest. Liz recognized the bleak look in his eyes. Life had already taught him that fairness played no part in it. He was powerless and knew it.
She looked over at Mandy. Hands still tied in front of her, linked behind two other bound prisoners by a length of rope. Liz bounced up and down on her toes. She understood all about feeling powerless. “Marcus,” she whispered.
Glancing over her head, he must have seen what she had. They needed more time.
“I want the two of you fine men to personally deliver this ruffian to the magistrate.” Marcus pushed his victim into the arms of Tall Guard. “We can’t risk him getting away.”
The other guard scratched his cheek. “We can’t leave right now. After the executions, we’ll take him in.”
“Do you know who I am?” Marcus’s voice was so deadly, a shiver crawled down Liz’s spine. And she knew it was all an act. “I want this man taken in now, and you would dare to defy me? I’m thirteenth in line to the crown, personal friends with the Prince Regent. I can have more than just your jobs if you refuse my request.”
Neither man spoke. Tall Guard swallowed. Eyes wide, they stared at Marcus like he was Moses himself come down the mountain to smite them. A cart slowly rattled past, large barrels stacked high, the horse straining at its leathers. The creak of shifting wood roused Tall Guard from his stupor.
“Right.” He cleared his throat, tugged at the waist of his coat with one hand, and gripped the lad at the back of his neck with the other. “Right. This sort don’t deserve to wait for the slow hand of justice. I know what you’re saying.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You do?”
The man nodded grimly. “Martin, take this scalawag to join the others. Assault is a cap’tal crime, and the man must pay.”
Liz clutched Marcus’s arm. “Your Grace, I can’t identify that boy as my assailant. Perhaps—”
“Don’t you worry, miss.” Martin grabbed the boy’s arm, his friend the other. Realizing what was about to happen, the young man began to struggle. “The duke here saw him do it. That’s good enough for us.”
“Jesus Christ,” Marcus muttered. Craning his head to look towards Amanda and his friends, he frowned. “While I applaud your initiative, gentlemen, this speedy of a judgment isn’t necessary. Taking him to the magistrate is all that I require.”
“It’s no problem, Yer Grace.” Tall Guard pushed his prisoner through a gap in the crowd. “Just you remember that Martin and Smuthers are eager to do your bidding. This lout won’t hurt no more women.”
Liz tugged on his sleeve. “Marcus! What are we going to do? We can’t let them—”
Marcus swore. “Of course we can’t. What the hell is wrong with this country? Executions without trials. Corrupt government officials.” Lips pressed tight, he turned in all directions, his head twisting left and right. “There.”
“What?” Liz rolled onto her toes to see what he was looking at. “Where?”
Putting his hands to her ribs, Marcus lifted her to the horse. “You’ll be safer up here.”
Uncaring of the proprieties, Liz sat astride, leaning forward to gather up the reins. “Safer for what? What are you going to do?”
“Make a distraction.” Marcus shook his head, his lips twisting wryly. “A distraction for my distraction.” He squeezed her calf. “When this crowd turns into a mob, you stay up there. Don’t lose your seat.”
“But . . .” It was too late. He was already walking away. Liz twisted. The guards were halfway back to the hangman’s platform. Back to her sister. Rothchild gesticulated to the lone guard. The man stood with burly arms crossed over his round chest. He shook his head, not looking impressed. With him standing half a head taller than everyone else, Dunkeld’s auburn hair was easy to pick out as he inched closer behind the guard.
She prayed under her breath. Whatever Marcus had planned, he’d better do it now. She found him in the crowd, talking to the driver of the cart that had passed. The man nodded, took something the duke handed him. Striding to the back of the cart, Marcus lifted the latch. With a nod to the driver, he stepped back.
And all hell broke loose.
With a vicious swipe of his crop, the driver struck his horse, and the animal reared, yanking at its harness, the cart lurched forward, and the barrels rolled out the back of the open cart.
A gunshot rang out, and if Liz hadn’t been focused on Marcus she never would have noticed the eruption of dust at his feet. He shoved his hand into his coat pocket, a glint of metal catching the sun. When he removed his hand, it was empty.
The crowd panicked. A man ran into her horse’s head, and the beast skittered sideways. A fleeing woman tripped, her prone form quickly swallowed by the mass of people running for their lives. Liz swallowed a deep breath when a young man reached down and pulled the woman back to her feet.
The driver screamed, like he was out of control, but Liz saw him tug on the left rein, steer the rampaging horse and cart into the center of the crowd. Head right for the prisoners.
One of the loose barrels cracked into the side of a building. Frothy brown liquid gushed from the hole that opened up. Another barrel rolled into a laborer, knocking him down. Rubbing his leg, he pushed to his feet, and hobbled as quickly as his injured leg would take him out of the square.