Page 81 of The Marriage Method

Silas’s black gaze leapt to Nell’s face. He gave a visible start. “You.” Dawning understanding registered in his eyes. “You’re a friend of hers?”

“I am,” Nell said. “So, you’d better take care what you say next.”

The noise of the market rose up around them. Shoppers were gathered at the stalls further down the way, too busy with their bartering to notice the altercation taking place at the mouth of the alleyway.

“Or else what?” Silas slid a look to Nell’s empty hands. “Don’t have no cane this time, do you?”

Nell drew herself up in preparation for a fight. “I don’t require one.”

As they spoke, Effie circled around Silas, her parasol in hand.

The bully boy didn’t mark her. His gaze was riveted on Nell and Miss Brent. Effie had been too far ahead of them to attract his notice. “Mrs. Pritchard’s looking for this one,” he said, dipping his chin at the girl. “Hand her over and you can go on your way. It’s more than you deserve.”

“Why don’t you go on your way?” Nell returned. “While you’re still able to walk?”

Silas barked a scornful laugh. “You reckon I can’t take on a couple of troublesome females? What d’you think I do all day and night long? The two of you ain’t nothing.”

“The three of us,” Nell said.

Effie jabbed the sharpened steel tip of her parasol between the bully boy’s shoulder blades. “You overlooked me,” she said. “A stupid error. But then, you’re not a very bright man, are you?”

Silas froze. It was only for an instant. Pivoting with extraordinary speed for such a large man, he grabbed the silk stalk of the parasol and yanked it with all his might, pulling Effie nearly off her feet.

Rather than submit to falling toward him, Effie released her grip. Silas staggered back, unchecked, propelled by his own momentum.

Nell leapt aside, dragging Miss Brent with her into the alley, before he could tumble straight into them.

Silas dropped the parasol as he struggled to keep his balance. It clattered to the ground. “Bloody women,” he cursed, narrowly preventing himself from falling. “More trouble than any of you are worth.” Regaining his footing, he again turned on Nell. Whatever tissue of patience he’d had was gone. His expression held all the subtlety of an enraged bull. “I’ll have that girl now if I have to bust all your heads in the effort.”

Behind him, Effie strode to retrieve her parasol.

Silas lunged for Miss Brent.

The girl let out a startled cry.

Alerting Nell with a short whistle, Effie tossed her parasol over Silas’s head.

Nell’s hand shot up to catch it. She flicked the parasol round as if it were a fencing foil and, with the same precision with which she wielded a needle, dashed the razor-sharp tip across Silas’s brow. A line of blood sprang up in its wake, falling straight into the man’s eyes.

His hands flew to his face. A stream of oaths followed.

Nell’s heart raced. She’d practiced fighting for years, with every manner of weapon, but she’d never before drawn blood. Well. Not to this degree anyway. “The carriage!” she called to Effie.

“It’s there,” Effie called back. “This way!”

Nell grasped Miss Brent’s arm. “Hurry.”

Silas lunged at them again blindly as they passed. This time he wasn’t reaching to retrieve Miss Brent. It was violence he was after. His fingers were closed into a fist.

Nell moved to push Miss Brent out of the way. The action put Nell briefly in Silas’s path. Only a split second, but it was long enough. His fist connected with Nell’s shoulder with all the power of a steam locomotive.

Pain tore through Nell. She fell back against Miss Brent.

“Nell!” Effie ran to her.

Silas continued his advance with murderous intent. Blood streaked his face. “I’ll teach you,” he snarled. “You upstart, meddlesome b—” His words died away on an inarticulate grunt. Then his eyes rolled up and he crumpled into a heap on the ground.

Behind him, Miss Jean stood, a cloth shopping bag clutched in her upraised hand. It sagged under the weight of something heavy inside. “Are you mad?” she asked them, her breath coming fast. “Do you know who that is? It’s Mrs. Pritchard’s bully, for God’s sake!”