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Victoria reached out, grabbing the frame of the window and pulling herself to wobbly feet. Eva grabbed her hips to steady her and Victoria stuck her head out the window.
The whipping wind stinging tears into her eyes, she tried to look up at the driver’s seat from the odd angle.
A man in a brown jacket sat atop the driver’s perch. Not Mr. Drewson’s black livery. Her head swiveled toward the rear of the carriage. An elbow jostled into view. An elbow in a coat with a mismatched patch on it.
Damn.
She fell back into Eva and wedged onto the seat next to her. “Not Mr. Drewson. And there’s someone in the back—not ours.”
“Shit.”
Victoria’s eyebrows lifted. She didn’t think her aunt knew how to swear. “Exactly.” She looked to the handle of the door clanking loose with every jostle of the carriage. “Do we jump?”
Eva shifted to the opposite window, peering out. She lifted herself slightly onto her feet for a better view and winced, falling back onto the bench.
Victoria grabbed her arm, steadying her bouncing form. “You’re injured.”
“My leg got caught. It’s not right.” Pain etched into her eyes, pain that Eva was trying to suppress. “I don’t think we can jump. We’re moving too fast and I don’t want you hurt.”
“I don’t care if I get hurt—whoever just stole our coach—they didn’t do it for fun.”
Eva nodded. “We can try, but they’re just going to stop and pluck us off the road. But I agree—better to fight than to go meekly. If we can get out, maybe someone will see us and help.”
The steely fortitude in Eva’s voice squashed any fear in Victoria’s chest.
Better to fight.
Her legs bobbing, balancing against the rocking of the carriage, Victoria lifted herself to the window again, looking at the passing fields. “We’ll need to pick our spot—the horses can’t keep this pace for long. A soft landing would be helpful.”
How far had they gone since their footmen and driver had been removed? Two miles? Four? More?
The carriage started to slow and Victoria dropped back onto the bench, gripping Eva.
So much for jumping.
Just when the coach should have rolled to a stop, the carriage door opened and a vile-looking blackguard looked up at them as he ran alongside the coach. He had a scraggly brown beard that stretched down to his chest. Greasy. The whole of him slimy with beady eyes.
The man jumped onto the carriage step while the wheels continued to roll forward. His look honed in on Victoria and he reached past Eva’s legs to grab onto Victoria’s skirt.
Eva kicked at his arm, throwing a hand in front of Victoria, pinning her back onto the cushions. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
The man hacked out a wretched laugh as he leaned in farther with his upper body and shoved Eva to the side of the carriage. “It don’t work like that, lady.”
He grabbed Victoria’s ankle and yanked her off the cushion, dragging her toward the door.
With a screech, Eva lunged forward and attacked his head, clawing at him even as he dragged Victoria out of the carriage.
“Fuckin’ wicked bitch.” The brute turned toward Eva and punched her hard in the face, sending her flying back against the cushions. With a brutal yank, he ripped Victoria clear of the moving carriage and let her drop hard onto the ground.
Victoria rolled across the road with the momentum, over and over, the dirt in the road spinning into a cloud around her.
Her body stopped, and it took a long moment to right her mind.
Splayed on her belly. Dirt seeped into her open mouth, mixing with the metallic warmth of blood on her tongue. Every muscle screamed.
So much for a soft landing.
It took long seconds to wedge her forearms flat onto the ground under her chest, then she heaved herself upright enough to see anything but the dirt still clouding the air around her.
