Jack Windrush Collection - Books 1-4

Chapter 2-3

Rather than scream, the woman whirled around within Pete"s grasp and kicked him solidly on the shins. A few steps behind, Jack barged the soldier to the ground and pushed the woman in front of him. "Keep running!" he ordered, but he knew they couldn"t get far. There were too many soldiers, baying like hunting dogs blood-thirsty for the kill.

A bottle whistled past them, turning end over end until it smashed against a wall and sprayed vicious shards of glass onto the paved street. Another followed, bounced from a doorway, landed on the ground and rolled harmlessly away.

"Head them off!" That was Pete"s voice. "Don"t let them get out of the street.!"

The gaunt-faced man giggled hysterically. "Look, reinforcements!"

Jack swore as another body of soldiers appeared at the end of the road.

"What"s to do, boys?" one of the newcomers yelled.

"Get these bastards," Pete replied, and the newcomers spread out across the street, grinning.

"We"re trapped!" the woman shrieked.

Jack hustled her into the recessed door of one of the black-and-white timber-framed houses. "Get in there," he ordered and turned to face the soldiers. There were eighteen now, either drunk or nearly so and they formed a semi-circle around the doorway, blocking any hope of escape.

"Now we"ve got you, you bastard." Three missing teeth defaced Pete"s grin.

"You monsters!" the woman shouted, "fight fair!"

Jack took a single step forward, so he was clear of the woman and adopted the classical prize-fighting stance his school had taught him. "I"ll fight any or all of you," he said, "but leave the woman alone."

The soldiers jeered, with Pete making obscene gestures that left no doubt as to his intentions toward the woman.

"Oh, you cowards!" the woman said. She pushed level with Jack and tossed her head back; blonde curls bounced around her face. Twenty of you against one man and a woman! No!"she said as Jack tried to hold her back, "I will not keep out of the way. "We will fight them together!"

"You"re a spunky little piece, I grant you," Jack told her, "but it would have been better if you had held your tongue!"

Her smile took him by surprise. He could feel her trembling, but whether out of fear or anger, he didn"t know. "Some things just have to be said."

"What a bold ensign," sandy hair said, his east-end London accent slurred with alcohol.

"He"s game right enough," crop-head added, "a right little fighting c**k we have here."

They remained where they were, encouraging each other with loud boasts and high-pitched laughter at their crude jokes.

"Come on, then, if you dare!" Jack challenged. He could feel the woman close beside him and lowered his voice. "Could you back off, please? I"ll need space here."

"You can"t fight them all!" she replied.

Pete led the group with an unsophisticated head-down rush that Jack parried easily. He landed a single punch that missed Pete"s jaw but landed squarely on his cheekbone. As Pete staggered, Jack swung at crop-head; his target dodged and the blow bounced from the forehead of a squat, evil-eyed man of about thirty and then the soldiers were on him. Jack grunted as a kick landed high on his thigh and then staggered as a punch landed on his shoulder. He heard the woman"s defiant shout alter to a scream.

"Leave the woman alone!" he yelled.

Jack kicked at one soldier who lunged for his groin, elbowed another that grabbed his coat and swore as something hard crashed into his leg. He did not see the arm that wrapped around his throat and pulled him backwards.

"Get in here, Jack, for God"s sake!"

Jack couldn"t resist as somebody dragged him inside the building and banged shut the door shut behind him. He looked around; the woman was already inside, and Ruth was shaking her head at him.

"You do need looking after, don"t you?" she said. "Somebody has to take you in hand."

"Thank you," Jack panted. Only then did he become aware of the various aches and pains in his body. He struggled to control his ragged breathing. "You came at the right time."

They were in a stone-flagged corridor, illuminated by the flickering light of a single candle that didn"t penetrate far into the gloom. There were darker shadows behind the low beams.

Ruth nodded and jerked her thumb at the woman. "Who is your trouble-making friend?" She shook her head and addressed the woman directly. "That was a foolish thing to do, interfering in a fight between the peelers and the redcoats."

"I am Lucinda Harcourt," the woman sounded very calm, "daughter of—"

"You can be the daughter of the Devil for all I care," Ruth said as she drew a massive bolt across the door. "But we"d better get you somewhere safe. The sojer-boys have you in their mind now, and they won"t rest until they get you or until they are locked up and sober."

"We"re safe now," Lucinda said.

Again, Ruth jerked a thumb in the direction of the soldiers in the street outside. "Not with that lot." She stepped back as something heavy hammered on the outside of the door. "See what I mean? They"ll kick the door right in to get you. If they had half the sense of a dog, they"d use the window, but… "She shrugged, "whoever said that sojers had sense? If they had, they wouldn"t join the army."

"And just who are you?" Lucinda straightened her skirt and bounced her curls back. "I"ve lost my hat! Oh," she looked at Jack as if expecting him to run out and fetch it for her. "Did you hear me? I"ve lost my hat!"

"I"m the woman who saved you from getting raped." Ruth was very blunt. "Now follow me and don"t do anything foolish, if that is possible." She flinched as there was another massive crash against the door. "We"d better hurry; that door won"t last forever."

Lifting the candle, she headed along the corridor with her skirt swishing around her bare feet. "Come on, Jack; you, Lucinda, you can come or go as you choose. I don"t care which but if you stay the sojer boys will have their sport with you."

Hitching her skirt, Lucinda followed as Ruth led them through a succession of dark rooms and to another door. "This will take you to a lane that leads to Broad Street," she said. "Now you"re on your own."

"How can I thank you?" Jack asked, but Ruth shook her head.

"Just get out." She opened the door wide and pushed him between the shoulder blades. "Go now."

Broad Street was nearly empty, with only a handful of people walking and a stance for hackney-cabs on the opposite side of the road.

"I think I"d best take you home," Jack said.

"I think I will decide where I go," Lucinda told him.

"Come on." Jack ignored her protests, took hold of her arm and led her to the cab stance. "Where do you live?"

"That is hardly your concern." Lucinda shook herself free.

"Miss Harcourt isn"t it?" The middle-aged cab driver leaned across. "If you care to step inside, sir, I will take you both to the young lady"s house."

"You know her?" Jack asked.

"Everybody in Hereford knows Miss Harcourt," the driver said. "In you come, Miss Harcourt and I"ll see you safely home. You too sir, if you care to."

No! Women will blight my career; I should walk wide of this one.

No! Women will blight my career; I should walk wide of this one.But Jack knew he couldn"t do that. He was a gentleman by instinct and training. As such, it was his duty to protect women; even women such as this vocal hedgehog who everybody except he knew. "In you go, Miss Harcourt." He gave her an ungentle push inside the cab and followed her in. He raised his voice. "Take us to Miss Harcourt"s house, please driver."

"You"ve no right to do this," Lucinda protested, "I will tell my father."

"You can tell the Queen and the Archbishop of Canterbury if you wish,." Jack was tired of the company of Lucinda Harcourt. "It matters not a dot to me."

That was true, he told himself. In a short time, he would be with his regiment and out of range of the spleen of any Hereford civilian. Jack leaned back against the leather cushion; he would soon be an ensign of British infantry, and then he would climb the ranks and regain his former prestige and position, somehow. All he needed was a few b****y wars and the chance to prove himself against a foreign foe. He stared out of the window as they growled through the dark streets of Hereford.

There always seemed to be some enemy on the fringes of the British Empire. He wished he had grown up a decade earlier when he could have tested his mettle against the Afghans, the Kaffirs or the Sikhs. Now the Sikhs were defeated, and the Afghans were l*****g their wounds behind the Khyber Pass. There was still the Kaffirs to fight, but there was little glory in chasing n***d savages across Africa. Jack grunted involuntarily; he needed a more worthy foe than that to earn his spurs and start the climb back to respectability. He closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever lead his men to face the French; another Peninsula campaign would be b****y and glorious, with General Jack Windrush—

"Here we are sir, Miss Harcourt," the driver"s voice interrupted his imaginings. "The Harcourt residence."

"I"ll take you to the front door," Jack said.

I may as well do the thing properly.

I may as well do the thing properly."I am sure I know the way." Lucinda"s glare could have curdled milk.

"All the same," Jack said cheerfully, "a job half done is not done at all." He slid out of the cab, asked the driver to wait for him and walked at Lucinda"s side.

The Harcourt"s house was neo-classical, with Doric columns displaying the master"s wealth and power. Jack waited while Lucinda skipped up the flight of stairs that led to the front door. Before she was halfway, the door opened, and a large man with an impressive set of white whiskers appeared.

"Who the devil are you, sir," he said to Jack, "and what do you mean by bringing my daughter home at this time of night?"

"I am Jack Windrush, sir," Jack said, "and I am endeavouring to bring your daughter home in safety."

"I"ll be damned if you are," Harcourt said. "Jack Windrush, eh? I"ll remember that name, mark my words. Now be off, or I"ll set the dogs on you!" He grabbed Lucinda by the shoulder and hustled her inside the house. The door slammed shut.

For a moment, Jack stood still. Major Welland had warned him to keep clear of women, and by God, he was right. He had met two today – one had picked his pocket, and the other was a flighty, prickly piece of pure trouble. Both were reminders that his career lay in a world of military glory and not in domestic disharmony.

"Where to, sir?" The cab driver asked.

"City Arms Hotel," Jack said. "I have a coach to catch at five tomorrow morning."