Page 57 of From the Ashes
I heard Lincoln's voice mere minutes later. "Be prepared to leave quickly," he told Seth and Gus, both sitting on the coachman's seat.
Seth responded but I couldn't hear his words and then Lincoln rejoined me inside. I blew out a long, ragged breath, and released my hands. I'd been clutching them so tightly my fingers ached. My relief didn't surprise me, but it did irritate me somewhat. I didn't want to care for his wellbeing as much as I did.
We waited in silence. No sounds came from the direction of the hospital. Occasionally one of the horses snorted or moved, rattling the harness, but even those noises were muffled through the thick fog.
I'd never been very good at waiting. Doing nothing while others worked was an excruciating exercise in patience. It must have been even more difficult for Lincoln, however. Being a man of action meant he rarely had to sit and wait, yet he managed it without fidgeting, sighing or shivering. I failed miserably.
He leaned over and lifted the blanket on my lap higher. "Don't get cold," he said before sitting back again.
I inched the blanket to my chin. It didn't help. The longer I sat, the colder I became. My toes and fingers turned numb and my face felt as if frowning or smiling might crack it. How did Lincoln manage to remain so warm? He looked so…inviting. Mere weeks ago I would have curled up on his lap and nuzzled his throat. He would have wrapped his warm arms around me and—
The coach rocked as the horses moved. Gus said something to soothe them, but his voice was cut off by a shout.
"Go!" The door opened and Mannering burst in. He smacked into the other side of the cabin and fell onto the seat beside me. He spoke but I could hardly understand a word. He'd lost his teeth."He'th coming!" he repeated.
"Stop! Thief!" came the cry from outside as the coach lurched forward. I recognized Dr. Bell's voice.
"You didn't tie him up," Lincoln said, more accusation than question.
"I did. Had to releath him, though. Couldn't leave him like that all night to be found in the morning by hith underlings. How ignoble for the poor fellow." He opened his jacket pocket and pulled out some papers. "Thith ith what I found. It may or may not be of uthe to you, but it wath all I could find of relevanth."
"Thank you," Lincoln said, placing them inside his jacket.
The coach suddenly swerved and we all lurched to the side. Mannering's body acted as a cushion for me, and Lincoln managed to put out a hand to stop himself slamming into the wall. He righted himself, shaking out his hand.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" came Seth's shout. Gus echoed the question, with more colorful language. Who were they talking to?
"Get down!" ordered a stranger.
"Charlie," Lincoln said, helping me to sit up, "are you—"
The door was flung open and two uniformed policemen scowled at us. Both held truncheons and the one at the back carried a lamp. "Get out," said the front one. "You're under arrest."
Chapter 12
"Hands on your head," the policeman said. "You two, miss."
"What is this?" I asked before Lincoln took control in his, er, unique way. If we could talk our way of the situation, we must try to do so first. "We're just minding our business."
"Without lamps? And when something's amiss up at Barts?" He jerked his head back the way we'd come.
I looked through the rear coach window to see a glowing arc of light, swinging back and forth. A moment later, another two policemen emerged through the fog, trailed by Bell. They must have been near the hospital and heard Dr. Bell's shouts then signaled to the other constables using their lamp.
"Miss, set the blanket aside slowly and step outside," one of the policemen said.
I got up but Lincoln caught my hand. He gave a small shake of his head. Did he want to overpower them and escape? We could do it quite easily. We outnumbered them and we had a corpse with incredible strength on our side. But I couldn't stop thinking about the dangers, not only to us but to the policemen. While I had no love for their kind, I didn't want to be responsible for any harm befalling them. Overriding that concern was my worry about Mannering. If something happened to me, who would send him back?
"You two!" Dr. Bell gasped, as much from surprise at seeing us, I suspect, as from his exertions. "I should have known you weren't journalists. Give back my papers this instant!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked, stepping out of the carriage. I glanced over my shoulder and winked. Then, to Mannering, I mouthed 'Run.' To the policemen and Bell, I said, "Thank goodness you came when you did." My voice shook and I clutched the constable's lapels with trembling fingers. "This horrid man has been forcing us to do his bidding. He made us lie to you earlier today, then forced us to drive to the hospital tonight."
"What utter rot," Bell snapped. He glanced behind me and swallowed hard. "My God," he whispered. "Itisyou. Mannering…tell me…how? I must know. Who did this to you? Who succeeded where I have failed?Tell me!"
I was suddenly shoved in the back so hard that the policeman and I fell to the ground. He landed with anoomph, and I on top of him. I looked up in time to see two other policemen racing after the retreating figure of Mannering. They would not catch him.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but perhaps it was too soon. We were still under arrest.
Lincoln helped me to my feet and the policeman dusted himself off. Seth jumped down from the coachman's bench.
