Page 30 of The Unfortunate Debutante
Large, pale eyes landed on her, and she could see lust in them. “We just want the girl,” he said with a leer.
“The girl is with me,” Mr. Martin asserted. “Let us pass.”
The man with the pointy nose started cracking his knuckles in an exaggerated fashion. “You may leave, but not with the girl.”
Emma fumbled with her reticule and pulled out her overcoat pistol. She tucked it against her side. She would never be a willing participant to what these men wanted. She would die first. Besides, she wasn’t the helpless woman they thought her to be.
The first man swung at Mr. Martin, and he ducked easily. While he was low, he punched the assailant in the stomach, causing him to double over. Another man lunged at Mr. Martin as the third grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him.
Taking her pistol, Emma slammed it into his face, causing his large, pointy nose to gush blood. She reared back again and hit him in the side of the head. This time, he crumbled to the ground.
Mr. Martin was still fighting with the assailant, both throwing punches at each other. She removed the dagger from the pocket of her gown and plunged it into the man’s leg. He roared in pain and reached for the wound as she yanked it out.
Without saying a word, Mr. Martin grabbed her hand, and they started racing down the street. He didn’t stop until they arrived at the stone wall outside of Mrs. Gupper’s townhouse.
His breathing was labored. His eyes were closed. But Emma knew that she had fueled Mr. Martin’s anger, and she couldn’t rule out that he might take that out on her. She slipped her hand out of his hold, took a step back, and held firmly to her pistol.
Mr. Martin opened his eyes, his unrelenting gaze latching onto hers. “You foolish, witless girl…” he started.
“Stop!” she ordered. “You have no right to speak to me like this.”
His mouth dropped. “No right? You almost got us killed back there!”
“I did no such thing,” she retorted. “In fact, I would like to point out that I took out two of the attackers, and you only took out one. I believe a thank you would be in order.”
“Thank you?” he growled. “You want me to thank you?”
She shrugged. “It would be the polite thing to do.”
Advancing towards her, his eyes sparked with fury. “Whatexactlywas so important that you risked going into a public house in that part of town?”
She tilted her chin to look up at him. “It matters not.”
“You are unbelievable!” He pointed towards the ground. “You will tell me this instant what you were doing at that public house.”
“I will not,” she answered, returning his ire.
Mr. Martin spun back around and took a few steps away. She heard him muttering curse words under his breath, and she pressed her lips together to refrain from smiling.
He turned back around and surprised her by asking, “Will youpleasetell me why you went to The Tubby Wench?”
Despite his boorish tone, Emma now knew that she had no reason to fear Mr. Martin. She even felt safe around him. Which was odd, especially since he insulted her constantly. She placed her pistol back into the reticule around her wrist.
“As I mentioned previously, I intend to write an article for the newspaper about the Corn Laws…”
“Which is rubbish.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for that,” she remarked dryly. “By going there today, I have arranged for a meeting with the members of an Anti-Corn Law movement.”
Mr. Martin stared at her in silence for a long moment. Finally, he inquired, “When?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Martin. If you recall, you weren’t willing to help me when I asked earlier today.”
“That’s different,” he stated, stepping closer to her. “These rebels are dangerous.”
“Do you believe starving, desperate men to be dangerous of their own volition?”
“Clearly.”
