Page 43 of Honor Unbound

Another voice joined hers, muffled, but just as outraged. The pressure at her shoulder disappeared, but her body was too tired to fight to the surface. She drifted, just below the waterline, the pain in her chest radiating out to fill her limbs.

A hand grabbed her hair and yanked up.

Marie’s face broke the surface. She coughed out water as tears streamed down her face.

“Oh, thank the Lord,” a female voice said. “Grab the ledge.” The woman picked up one of Marie’s arms and laid it on the cold stone. “Hold on.”

Marie did as ordered. She clung to the edge of the pool, sputtering and shaking and sucking in as much air as she could between hacking fits.

The woman pulled at her other arm, trying to lift her from the pool. Marie knew she should be of some use and try to climb out with the woman’s assistance, but she only had the strength to hook her elbow onto the ledge and cling.

Footsteps sounded. A shout. Arms lifted her from the pool and pulled her to a wide, hard chest. “What happened?” a familiar voice demanded.

Marie curled closer into Mr. Burton. He was so warm, and under the faint odor of refuse were the scents of cedar and pine and him. She wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and bury her nose in the crook of his neck, but her arms wouldn’t move.

“I forgot my bonnet,” the woman said. “I came back and there was a man holding her under. I yelled and he ran out, knocking me down. Oh, I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

Neither had Marie.

Someone had tried to kill her.

If this woman hadn’t come back, she’d be dead. Tears streamed down her face and she could only hope her face was too wet for anyone to notice.

“Who was it?” Burton’s voice was almost unrecognizable. “Did you see who did this?”

“He’d wrapped his face with a scarf,” the woman said. “Had a hat pulled low. Dressed in black. All I can tell you is he had brown hair.”

Another voice spoke up. “I haven’t seen anyone like that. I didn’t sell him a ticket.”

“But the gate is often unoccupied. You left it to lead me to the bath.” Burton pushed wet clumps of hair off Marie’s face. “Did you see who it was?” he asked her.

Marie shook her head. “Pushed. From behind,” she rasped out.

“No use pestering the girl now.” The woman who’d saved her plucked a towel from a stack in the corner and shooed the doorman out. She tried to shoo Burton, but he was unshooable.

“Let me dry her as best we can,” the woman said. “Why don’t you go call a hackney to take her home?”

“We have a hackney,” Burton said. “And we have the same home.”

“Oh.” The woman tossed him the cloth. “Then start drying out her hair and I’ll wring out her skirts.”

Marie let them help her to standing. She stared at her bonnet floating lazily in the pool as they worked on getting her dry. When her shivering resulted more from chill than fear, she pushed away their hands. “Perhaps the sun will do the job best.”

“Of course.” Burton examined her from head to toe.

Marie blushed when she realized how much her damp gown revealed, but there was no hint of lust in his gaze. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything in Burton’s look. His expression seemed as wiped clean as Marie’s body now was. “I am all right,” she told him.

He nodded, but no relief came to his face, not a hint of a smile.

Marie’s chest tightened. She turned to the woman. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

The woman shook her head. “You don’t need to. I come here once a week. It could have been you saving me.”

Marie didn’t think that likely. It would have been nice to think that this was a random act of violence, but it happening while she and Burton were looking into a murder, justafter Burton had thought they were being followed, well, the coincidence seemed unlikely.

She and the woman stared at each other a moment before throwing their arms around the other. Marie would probably never see her again, yet she owed the woman her life. After one last squeeze, they parted.

Burton led Marie out of the bath. When the day’s heat greeted her, she tipped her face to the sun and sighed. She would never complain about being overly warm again.