XXVII

"Laws are spider webs through which the big flies pass and the little ones get caught."  Honore de Balzac

----

XXVII.

Peter stared blankly out of the window of the carriage; his mind long lost to the roads of south-west England. He had no idea for how long they had been travelling. It could have been weeks. It could have been months. The days blended into one another and it was easy to lose track when one's focus was elsewhere.

Adam's article had done its job. Word was everywhere. Of course, their care was not for Belle's safety, but for the Duke of Ashwood's one thousand pounds. But Peter did not care a wit, for if that money led to Belle's safe return then it would have been worth it.

Every man in Southampton and Exmouth seemed to know Belle's name, but they had not seen her. She was not there. Though they were travelling with the Bow Street Runners, Adam, Peter, and Alex were the ones to run about each harbour questioning and bribing captains and harbourmasters for information.

And they learned nothing.

Peter was a wreck.

Alex was dangerously silent.

Adam had to be the optimist. He had to assure both men that the fact that nobody had seen Belle at these ports meant that she had not left the country from them. She had to still be in England.

Peter prayed that she was, and that she was unscathed. But he knew as the days passed, that the likelihood that she was unharmed slowly but surely diminished. That man, whatever his name was, would be damned to hell for whatever he did to her, and it would be done to him tenfold.

"Have you slept, Peter? You look terrible," Adam murmured sympathetically.

"I can't sleep," he muttered in reply. Peter did not remember the last time he had slept.

"We'll find her," Adam promised him.

Peter's eyes unwittingly flicked to Alex, as they seemed to whenever Adam made such promises. This was where Alex's silence frightened Peter. Alex said nothing, but he did not need to when his eyes spoke for him. He had been in Belle's position before. He and Belle had met in these exact circumstances. He knew what it was to be taken, to be smuggled on a ship, and to endure the horrors that man subjected his fellow man to. Alex knew it all.

Their luck changed when they reached Torquay. Of course, Belle's story had reached the port. But the whispers were different. Belle had been sighted in Plymouth only a week earlier. As soon as Peter had received that information, he had not needed to hear another word. The men piled into the carriage and the driver was ordered to take them directly to Plymouth without delay.

Belle had been in Plymouth. Belle was still in Plymouth, as Adam would positively say. She had been sighted a week ago. Peter needed to think coherently.

"It is December," Adam said, seemingly reading both Peter's and Alex's minds. "There are few, if any, ships crossing the Atlantic at this time of year. It is highly likely the man will be hiding her until they can seek passage across."

"For the right price, a smuggler would risk an Atlantic crossing at any time of year," Alex said intensely. "We are a valuable cargo."

A chill ran down Peter's spine and Adam paled as he looked upon Alex sympathetically.

Sometime along the journey, when Adam nodded off, Alex whispered something to Peter. "You must tell Susanna that I love her, and that I am sorry."

Peter's eyes narrowed.

"I will be hung for what I will do to that man if I get my hands on him." For a man who had black eyes, Peter had never seen them so dark.

"You will have to beat me to it," he replied vehemently. It was clear that Alex had ten years and perhaps four stone in weight on Peter. But he was no less serious.

Alex's dark eyes flicked over Peter's person, before he simply nodded, and returned to his startling silence.

Peter felt like to hope was to tempt fate when the carriage finally rolled into the port village of Plymouth. The harbour was nearly at capacity with tall ships stationed for the winter, and the town was busy with villagers and navy men alike.

Their first port of call was the harbourmaster, as it had been in each port they had visited. A donation of five shillings had secured them the information that no ships had departed the harbour bound for the Caribbean in the last month. As Belle had been sighted a week ago, that had to mean that she was still in Plymouth, or at least, still in England.

"It is Belle Desjardins you seek?" the harbourmaster inquired. The man was dressed in clothing much finer than his station, or his rate of pay. It was clear that his brass buttons were paid for by his many bribes of captains intending to smuggle goods in and out.

Peter shuddered to think of people as cargo.

"Yes," he confirmed. "She was sighted in Plymouth a little more than a week ago. Do you know her whereabouts?" Peter could not help but sound utterly desperate. He probably looked like a madman with the bruise-like shadows under his eyes.

"I don't know," replied the harbourmaster. "Do I?"

"This is a young lady's life we are discussing," Adam hissed as he went to slap another five shillings into the harbourmaster's hand, but Alex stopped him by grabbing his arm.

Alex stepped in front of Adam, standing directly in front of the harbourmaster, engulfing him with his intimidating height and brawn. "Your money will not buy this man a conscience," Alex said, eerily calm. "Tell me where the lady is."

The harbourmaster recoiled as he felt the weight of Alex's presence. "I am but a humble businessman," he stammered.

"You are a weed," spat Alex, "and if you do not tell me where the lady is, I will drown you."

"You ... you wouldn't do that! You'd be hanged! The Navy are but a shout away!"

"I would strangle you with that pretty cravat before you could shout for your mother."

"Gentlemen!"

Their attention was captured by the voice of Detective Hayfield, who was flanked by Detective Radcliffe as they marched down the pier. Alex took a subtle step backward from the harbourmaster.

"We've found her," Detective Hayfield told them seriously.

His tone was not one of elation, but of caution. It immediately put Peter on edge.

"Where is she?" he demanded to know.

"With the magistrate," Detective Radcliffe replied. "It seemed the wisest course of action for an investigation into Miss Desjardins' whereabouts in this port, and it turned out to be the correct one. Miss Desjardins was arrested and has been remanded until a judge can be brought from London for trial."

"Arrested?" gasped Peter.

"For what?" cried Adam.

"Attempt to kill and causing grievous bodily harm."

***

Peter stormed into the magistrate's office and found it to be a small stone building with very simple furnishings. A small man sat behind a desk laden with papers, and the sudden intrusion of three men and two Bow Street Runners made him drop his teacup which shattered into pieces on the wooden floor.

"You would knock!" cried the magistrate.

"Mr Ennis," Detective Hayfield said, stepping forward. "Allow me to introduce the Duke of Ashwood. Miss Desjardins was in his custody."

"The Duke?" repeated Mr Ennis, his eyes widening. "So, you are the one offering the reward?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, Peter saw Alex ball both of his hands into fists. His own jaw clenched.

"I would very much appreciate if Miss Desjardins could be promptly returned to my custody," Adam spoke formally, pleasantly, and was much more amenable than either Peter or Alex would have managed to be.

"I am afraid that is quite impossible," Mr Ennis said regretfully. "She has been placed under arrest. A judge has been sent for and we expect him in the coming days. She is to stand trial for her charges. Fear not. I doubt she will be convicted of the attempted murder. She will not be hanged. I expect transportation for what she did to that man." The magistrate shuddered.

"Transportation?" exclaimed Peter, losing his composure. After everything, she could not be shipped off to the bloody colonies! Whatever Belle had done was absolutely deserved. Peter was certain.

"What does that mean?" hissed Alex.

"It means she will likely be transported as a convict to Australia to serve hard labour," clarified Detective Radcliffe.

"Mr Ennis," interjected Detective Hayfield, "there has been a misunderstanding, and there could be a grievous miscarriage of justice. Miss Desjardins was kidnapped from her home in Hertfordshire by a man intending to smuggle her as a slave. As I am certain you are aware, this is an illegal practice."

Mr Ennis sighed. "Yes, yes. I have had this from the lieutenant who was with her when she was arrested. I sympathise with the young woman's plight. She is lucky, to be certain. She was accused of murdering the man! That would have meant her execution! She is fortunate that her husband survived the attack."

Flashes of violence flooded Peter's mind as he imagined what could have transpired leading up to Belle defending herself. And that is what it would have been. She would have been defending herself from that man. "He is not her husband!" he snapped.

"Theirs was not a legal union," clarified Detective Hayfield upon the magistrate's confusion. "Miss Desjardins is a victim of a great crime. If her captor survived, then it is he who will be brought up on charges of kidnapping and smuggling."

"And he will be when the doctor releases him," confirmed the magistrate. "Though I do not know when that will be. The girl rendered the man impotent." He shuddered at the thought.

All five men gasped at the revelation and gravity of what this meant. Peter was quick to decide that impotence was only the beginning of what that man deserved.

"It was cleared done in an act of self-defence," Adam insisted.

"Belle was held by this man for God knows how long!" Peter cried. "He'd attacked her, abused her, for years, before she escaped him. And here she is, taken by him again, and she manages to fight him off! That is the only explanation. You ought to be congratulating her, not arresting her!"

"It is her word against his," Mr Ennis replied. "Unfortunately, with no physical evidence of abuse, or a witness to testify to it, the charge stands."

Peter wanted to throw something. Alex actually kicked the wall which earned him a scolding from the magistrate. How could this be possible? How could this be justice? How could a judge be summoned to sentence a poor, brutally illtreated woman to transportation as a criminal when she had endured as much as she had?

It wasn't fair. It couldn't happen. Belle deserved more than this! She had to know that there was more to life than suffering! She deserved a good life, and Peter wanted to be the one to give it to her! He wanted to show her that life could be beautiful and full of opportunity for those with ambition. He wanted to help her achieve every one of her dreams.

Instead, she was sitting in a cell suffering yet again. God, he willed, if you help her, I will never let her know another day of suffering.

"I will employ a solicitor immediately," Adam informed the magistrate.

"I want to see her," Peter demanded.

Mr Ennis seemed to look upon Peter with pity. "Alright," he allowed. "Five minutes." He collected a set of iron keys from his drawer and stepped out from behind his desk. He then led Peter, Alex and Adam through a door and down a poorly lit hallway that housed three doors, all made of iron bars.

Through the bars, Peter could see a small gaol cell, entirely stone and terribly filthy, most likely owing to the drunkards that frequented them. The first of the cells was empty. The second was occupied by a man who was sleeping on the small cot in the corner of the cell. He was mostly covered by a blanket that appeared rife with smallpox.

When they came to the third cell, Mr Ennis fiddled with the keys as he searched for the right one. Peter anxiously looked through the bars and spotted a tiny figure on the cot, like the man in the second cell. All he could see of her was her head, but he would know those black curls anywhere.

It was her.

"Belle!" Peter cried out.

"Belle!" Alex was next to anxiously call her name.

Peter expected her to stir from her sleep, to turn over and look upon them with her haunting golden eyes. But she didn't. She stayed facing the wall.

"Belle?" Peter called again, firmer this time. "Belle, it's me. It's Peter."

At that moment, Mr Ennis found the key he was after and he put it into the lock, turning it over before he pulled it open. Peter was so desperate to get inside that he nearly bowled the magistrate over. He fell to his knees beside Belle's cot and placed his hand gently on her side, before immediately regretting it. She would not want to be touched, especially not without warning.

But she didn't flinch. At least, not violently. It took a moment for Peter to realise that Belle was moving. She was shivering.

"Belle?" whispered Peter fearfully as he reached for her face. He meant to turn her face towards him, but the moment he touched her skin, it nearly burned him. "She has a fever!"

----

I'm starting to feel really bad for what I'm doing to these characters. What's wrong with me? I never feel guilty. I love drinking reader tears.

.... aaaand guilt is done. Back to enjoying the drama.

But honestly, impotence couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. F*ck you, Jean. You better pray that this author is done with you ... because you deserve that and more.

My poor baby Belle. What have I done to you? At least I sent you a good one in Peter.

Okay.

Okay.

CAN WE TALK ABOUT ASH FREAKING BARTY?!?!?!!? Omg what a final. What a FINAL! I am the biggest tennis fan and seeing our girl win at home, omg. The absolute best. I cried. I am sooooooo proud. And when they surprised her with Evonne Goolagong-Cawley to present the trophy I was just a mess (to non Aussies, Evonne is Ash's hero, and a freaking weapon of a tennis player in her heyday). To be 1-5 down in the second set and to come back, it was just magic. She is such a role model and just an awesome person.

I remember when she was a baby just starting out and now she's the best in the world. I feel like Mushu in Mulan where he's crying and saying his girl's all grown up and saving China hahahaha

Now to complete my weekend I need Nadal to win tomorrow. I will be in pieces if he wins number 21. Hoping and praying and crossing everything. I adore him and I have for yearssssssss.

Next time we speak I will have had my first day with my new class! This week I'm testing all my new students one on one and then they have their first day of school. I'm so excited ... but then also subtly freaking out as I'm expecting covid to run rampant and I've managed to somehow avoid it all this time.

I got my booster though, so if you're eligible, make sure you get vaccinated!

Vote and comment xxx