Sherbrooke Twins

Corrie didn’t know how much time passed. Her arms ached, her fingers were numb.

Whining never helped unless you did it to another person, so she gave it up and hummed to herself. She held on to those straps, that was all she had to do.

She remembered when James had picked her up and tossed her into a pond near the back of her uncle’s property. Unfortunately, her breeches, stolen from the charity clothes in the sexton’s closet at the vicarage, got snagged on a tangle of reeds underwater and she’d nearly drowned. She would remember until she croaked how white his face had been when he’d realized what had happened and pulled her out. He’d nearly crushed her ribs he’d pressed down so hard to get the water out of her lungs. And he’d held the eight-year-old Corrie, rocking her back and forth, begging her to forgive him, until she’d vomited up the nasty pond water all over him.

Corrie didn’t remember if she’d forgiven him or not, the miserable sot. Of course, the next week, he’d tied her to a tree when he wanted to take Melissa Banbridge for a walk in the woods and he’d seen her following them.

She’d gotten the rope untied, but couldn’t find them. She’d slipped a half dozen frogs into his boots standing downstairs to be cleaned by the boot boy. Unfortunately, she’d heard one of the footmen say that for some reason they’d found a wagon load of frogs flying around in the mudroom and how had that come about?

Hang on, hang on, don’t think about anything but hanging on.

The temperature dropped as the night deepened. How late was it? She had no idea.

They skirted Chelmsford. She saw signs for Clacton-on-Sea, and the carriage turned sharply to the right. They were going toward the English Cha

She heard occasional voices from inside the carriage, but she couldn’t make out any words. Had they unwrapped James? What if they’d killed him with those blows on the head? No, that was crazy thinking.

Was he conscious? Was one of the voices she’d heard his? He was all right. He had to be all right. He was fine; he’d have a headache, but he’d be fine. She had no idea what she’d do if he weren’t fine. She’d take care of him, that’s what she’d do, and then she’d kill him herself for being such a fool to go out into that garden alone.

The carriage suddenly pulled off the gutted lane onto one even smaller, so narrow that a branch hit her arm, nearly jerking her to the ground.

She pressed herself closer and prayed. She heard a noise and nearly expired on the spot. It was her own teeth chattering. Good God, was she going to freeze to death before this bloody carriage got to where it was going?

Finally, the carriage slowed. She saw a small weathered cottage at the end of a lane. The horses were now walking, then Billy pulled up.

He shouted back down, “This is the place, gots to be. Not too bad atal, nice and comfy, all ’idden away. Get ’is bleedin’ lordship all ready, don’t want no trouble from the lad! Oh aye, an’ watch ’is bloody feet!”

Augie stuck his head out the window. “We’ve got ’m all tied up, the boyo ain’t going nowheres, Billy.”

“Good. If we croaks our fancy cove, we don’t get no groats.”

They’d taken James so they could blackmail his father into an exchange. Augie and Ben were talking, grumbling, and she realized they would see her for her gown was stark white and would shine like a beacon beneath that half moon.

Thank God Billy climbed down and kept to the front of the carriage. When he opened the carriage door, she slipped around to the other side and tucked herself against the back wheel. Her legs nearly buckled, and she was clutching at the wheel to keep herself upright. She was numb, frozen, more frightened than she’d ever been in her life, and she was going to save James.

“The lad weighs as much as me mither, only she weren’t tall like this fellow, jest a little fat pigeon wot liked to smack me noggin.”

“Shut up, Billy. Okay, bring ’im into the cottage. Fu

“That’d mean gettin’ yer pecker up an’ stiff,” Augie said. “When’s the last time that ’appened?”

Ben said, “It ’appened when ’is landlady beat ’im with a shoe, made him all lusty.”

The men laughed and grunted as they carried James, evidently still unconscious, into the cottage. Corrie remained hugging the wheel, watching. They would have to do something with the horses. She waited until they all went into the cottage, then stumbled on numb feet into the trees and began to work her way around to the side of the cottage. At least moving made her thaw a bit and got the feeling back into her feet.

She crouched down outside the filthy window and looked in. It was just one room, with a narrow cot along the back wall. There was a battered table and four chairs and a very dilapidated area where it appeared they cooked. The fireplace was off to her right.

She watched them dump James on the narrow cot, then pull the blanket away from him. She nearly fell over she was so angry. Blood had snaked down the side of his face.

Billy slapped his face a couple of times, then stood straight, looking down at him. “Still under the willow, our lad. Augie, ye said ’e came back to ’is wits in the carriage?”

“Aye,” Augie said. “Then when I tapped ’im a couple of times, jest to get ’is attention, our lad ’as the nerve to collapse again. ’E’ll come around in a bit. I’m ready to gnaw off me elbow, Ben. Ye fix us somethin’.”

Settling in, she thought, they were settling in. For how long? Closer to the sea, it was colder, but at least she was out of the wind. Suddenly it was dark. She looked up to see black clouds covering the half moon.

It was Augie who came out in a couple of minutes and led the horses to a small shed on the other side of the cottage.

She watched James, then watched Billy carry logs to the fireplace.

What to do?

She continued to watch James, and finally, she saw his hand move. She felt such relief she nearly shouted. She had the feeling he was looking at the men, his eyes barely slit open. He was thinking, trying to figure out what to do.

It was so cold now she was ready to tear a strip off her gown and go into the warm cottage waving a white flag.

She gritted her teeth, waited. The three men were speaking low, of nothing at all, really. She saw Augie rise and go check on James. “Still out, our boy is. I don’t like this. We’re to give ’im off to the bloke wot’s paying us our groats and give ’im off alive.”

“Ye think this bloke’ll slit ’is throat, or ransom ’im?”

Augie shrugged. “Don’t know. Ain’t none o’ our business. Mighty ’andsome young man, ’e is though, ’tis a pity whatever ’appens to ’im.”

She watched Augie check the ropes that bound James’s wrists and ankles. At least they’d tied his hands in front of him. Augie walked back to the fireplace where the two men were stretching out on the floor. “Aye, I knows I gots the first watch. Billy, I’ll roust ye in two ’ours.”

And Augie sat in a chair, looking at the fireplace. He looked all toasty warm, the bastard.

It was time. She had to do something. She smiled. As she skirted the back of the cottage, she saw now that the cottage was only about thirty yards from a cliff that gave onto a narrow dark beach. She ran to the shed and crept in. It was small and ramshackle. There were some old blankets piled in one corner, some farm implements, and piles of moldy hay. One of the bays lifted his head, but he didn’t whi