"Who...who are ye?" a soft voice came from the inside of the coach. The voice of a child.

A scared child.

At that moment, a searing hot anger shot through Amy. They hadn't been wrong. They. Had. Not. Been. Wrong. And yet, in that moment, she wished so much that they had been. Better blood on her own hands than tears on the face of a child.

"It's all right," Patrick said, stepping forward, his voice gentle. "You're safe now."

The girl inside the coach, however, didn't seem to find that very reassuring, judging by the way she tried to scramble up onto the luggage rack. Patrick was about to take another step forward, when Amy held him back.

"But...I was only trying to reassure her."

"I know." She smiled sadly at him. The bloody fool really didn't see it, did he? "But ye're a man."

Understanding flashed in his eyes. With a nod, he stepped aside and held the door open for her. "Well, then I shall adhere to old wisdom and custom. Ladies first."

Giving him a grateful nod in return, Amy stepped forward and cautiously stuck her head into the carriage.

"'ello?"

It was only thanks to instincts born of years of surviving in Devil's Acre that she managed to dodge the broken-off brass knob from the luggage rack.

"Aaah! Easy, girl!"

"I won't let ye take me! I won't! I won't let 'im get me!"

"Dat's nice!" Making another dodge, Amy raised her hands to shield her head, just in case. "'cause we ain't with 'im!"

The small figure clinging to the luggage rack hesitated, hand still raised to strike. "Ye ain't?"

"No."

"'ow do I know ye're tellin' da truth?"

Amy considered for a moment how to prove that she was not, in fact, in the employ of an insanely rich, aristocratic, sexually deviant megalomaniac—then stepped aside, revealing the charming view of the dilapidated little charcoal burner's hut. "'cause dis is da place we took ye to."

There was a moment of silence.

"Oh. Right, I guess ye're tellin' da truth den."

"Glad ye think so." Amy extended her arms. "So...won't ye come out? Dat luggage rack doesn't look too comfortable."

After a few moments, the scruffy little figure in the shadows nodded and started climbing down. The foldable stairs of the coach creaked, and, an instant later, a slender foot emerged into the light, followed by the figure of a little girl. When Amy caught a sight of the state she was in, she wanted to murder someone. And, never being one to deny her wants and needs, she put that on her to-do list for later today. The girl was dressed in a tattered light brown dress, her hair in a tangle. And it hadn't gotten that way from a hardy breeze. There were several tears in her dress. One of her shoes was missing, the ankle red and bruised. Trembling, she only barely managed to keep herself upright.

"What happened to you?" Titus asked, for once not at all sounding as if he were in a joking mood.

"I...they...they came and...oh God, please..." Rushing forward, the girl threw herself into Amy's arms.

The story came flooding out. In one rush, she told them all about living in a tiny village a few miles away, a peaceful village, a beautiful village—a village under DeLacy's control. It was a story very like ones Amy had heard dozens and dozens of times from country girls lured to the city. A poor community of tenant farmers. A lord who owned all land and controlled everything, and the fear of whose power was so omnipresent that no one would dare stand by a single family who had provoked his ire and speak out against him. One day, the lord rode through the village and happened to glance out of his carriage as a girl called Grace worked in the fields. The next day, the lord's steward appeared when the girl was home alone to inform her that she had been chosen as a "personal maid" to His Lordship.

"I t-told dem I didn't wanna go with dem," Grace sobbed, "b-but d-dey..."

"I know." Amy hugged the girl close. A bit too fiercely, probably, but the girl didn't seem to mind. Neither did Amy, as long as she could shield her from dose bloody friggin' bastards! "I know."

"What will me Mum and Dad think? Dey'll be 'ome by now, and when dey see I'm gone, dey'll...dey'll..."

"Don't worry!" Amy squeezed the little one's shoulders. "We'll get ye back ta dem! We'll get ye back ta dem as soon as possible!"

"R-really?" Grace blinked up at Amy with her moist eyes in a way that made Amy want to grab her and stash her away in a safe place far, far away from any asshole rich men and arrogant lords. Well...except maybe one.

But Grace had a family. That was more than Amy herself had ever had, and she would never try to take that away from her.

"Really." She nodded. "We'll just 'ave ta lie low for a little while till dose bastards stop runnin' around and start minding deir own business."

They stayed in the charcoal burner's hut as the sun sped across the sky. Sometimes, they heard shouts and the clatter of hooves from the distance, but DeLacy's men never penetrated this far into the forest. Soon, the last light of the day vanished beyond the horizon, and they still sat at the hut's window, gazing out at a sparkling sky.

"Am...am I really gonna be with me Mum and Dad again?"

Patrick nodded and smiled at her—whereupon Grace hid her face in the folds of Amy's dress.

"Aye. Aye, ye will." Amy peered out of the window, listening intently. "Right away, in fact."

"W-what?"

"Well, seems like dey've given up." She nodded towards the forest visible through the window from where, other than the soft sounds of animals and the whistling winds, no noises were coming by now. "So why should we wait?"

Grace nearly jumped straight off her lap and out of the window.

"Oy! Easy dere, girl, easy dere! We've got a coach, remember? Two of dem, in fact."

"A-aye, of course. I'm so sorry, Miss...Miss..."

"Amy. Me name is Amy, and dis is Patrick, and Titus, and Karim."

"P-pleasure ta meet ye," Grace mumbled. "Th-thanks for getting' me out of dere."

"You are most welcome," Patrick said with a lordly bow that made the little girl giggle.

"Aye, ye are." Amy nodded, as did Titus in the background.

There was a momentary pause. Then everybody turned towards Karim, who folded his arms in front of his chest, looking almost offended.

"I," he said, "do not welcome people."

Amy didn't know whether to grin or flip him the bird. Luckily she didn't have to decide, since the little girl flipped him the bird for her.

"I think I like ye," she told the little one, making a huge smile bloom across her face. Then she reached out and patted Karim on the shoulder. "And ye too, don't worry, I don't play favorites."

Then, before the bodyguard could take her head off with his sabre, she scampered out of the cabin.

Having decided to roll DeLacy's coach into the forest and cover it with branches for the time being, they climbed into their own, having first made sure to change out of any clothes that were spattered with blood and gore. Such extravagant scarlet decorations, as Amy knew from experience, were usually not the way to make a good impression on a first family visit. They were even able to give Grace something to put on over her flimsy dress to protect against the cold night, since Angeline, bless her, had apparently thought it might be a good idea to pack a few kids' clothes if they were going to rescue a few dozen children from a debauched deviant's sex dungeon.

An idea Amy perhaps ought to have thought of on her own, except that, well...

Clothes = optional.

Old habits died hard.

"So," Amy asked, trying very hard not to show those particular thoughts on her face. "Where do ye live?"

"I, um..." Grace peeked out of the window, where she was met with the breathtaking sight of dark trees rushing by. "I...ain't quite sure."

It was obvious, really. How would a girl who had never been farther away from her village than a mile or two find her way back after being dragged away inside a coach? Especially if she didn't see where they went, and had to find the way back in the dark? So the five of them just went to the next village they could find by going down the road and stopped at the first inn.

***

"Oy. Visitors so late at night?" The bushy-bearded man behind the counter smiled at them. "What can I do for ye, Mr..."

"Sir Darren Brooks," Patrick said, stepping forward with an undeniable, one hundred percent genuine aristocratic asshole expression on his face. "And my, ehem...wife."

"Hi dere!" Amy peeked out from behind him and, grinning, waved at the innkeeper. "Darren, don't ye dare forget da third member of our little party. Come on, darling, don't be shy."

With that, she pushed out a little girl who had been trying to hide behind the man. The innkeeper gave her a quick but thorough inspection with his practised eye that could instantly evaluate anyone. She was a sweet little thing, clearly well-educated and of noble birth, judging by her shy blush and her beautiful, brand-new dress.

"Oh!" The innkeeper couldn't help but beam. This was his lucky night. "Welcome, Sir! Welcome, Madam, and the young lady! My humble house is honoured by the presence of such august personages as yourself."

"I betcha are," the lady gave him a grin that didn't, well...didn't seem entirely ladylike. Hurriedly, the innkeeper banished such a blasphemous thought from his mind. "Especially by me most noble self."

"Err...yes, definitely. So, if I may ask, which of the services of my humble establishment may I offer? Our meals are simple but delicious, our rooms warm, and our beds soft."

"I look forward ta testin' dat." The lady smiled that unladyli—ehem, nobly eccentric—smile again. "I'm quite an expert on beds, ye know."

"Is...is that so? Well, please, follow me."

His experienced eyes couldn't possibly be...wrong, right?

He shook his head. Hah! Never.

***

A few minutes later, Amy, Patrick, Karim and Titus were gathered in a room upstairs. A room that Karim and Titus had to sneak into since the reaction of the landlord to three men and a woman stepping into the same bedroom at night would most likely have been...interesting.

"Well," Amy said, beaming. "now dat we're all 'ere, we can start da orgy!"

"Shh!" Patrick glared at her in the most adorable manner, gesturing over to the little girl curled up on a bed in a corner.

"W...what's goin' on?" the little girl mumbled.

Amy opened her mouth, whereupon Patrick promptly slapped a hand over it. Rolling her eyes, she gave him a look and he hurriedly lowered his hand.

"Nothin'," she told Grace with a smile. "Just talkin' about 'ow we're gonna bring ye back ta yer parents."

"Ye will?" The girl whispered, her voice already half asleep, the rest of her soon to follow. "Ye really will?"

"Aye. Now sleep."

They all stood there and watched as the little girl fell asleep.

"Tomorrow, we bring her back home," Patrick said as he took Amy's hand.

Amy gazed up at him, a smile spreading over her face. "Aye. Tomorrow."

***

They left early the next morning and spent most of the day driving all over the countryside. On the box, Karim kept grumbling about his descent from a bodyguard to a glorified coach driver, but he continued driving on through the countryside, as Grace hung out of the window, her head whipping from left to right, inspecting the countryside.

"Do you recognize anything?"

"No. No dere's nothing dat I...nothing." The little girl bit her lip. "I don't see nothin' I recognice, I...dere!" Her finger stabbed forward, pointing at a mouldy old signpost in the distance, silhouetted against the light of the sinking sun. "Dere, dere! I recognize dat! Go dat way! Go dat way!"

"My ears are not stuffed full of wool, thank you!" Karim growled.

"What a pity," Amy sighed. "Dat would look so cute and fluffy."

With a growl, Karim cracked the whip and the coach dashed towards the signpost. Beside Amy, Grace hopped up and down on her seat, brimming with excitement. Under the light of the sinking sun, they raced down the country road. By the time they crested the last hill, Grace was almost ready to jump out of the window. Down below in the valley lay another village with its cuteness-value off the charts.

"Dat's it! Dat's me village! I can see me 'ouse!"

"And with the way you're shouting," Titus hissed, "I think your house can hear you, never mind its lack of ears! Shh! Be quiet!"

"Why?"

"Why did ye think we came back in da night?" Amy told her. "Once dose buggers in DeLacy's service get tired of searchin' for ye, what do ye think dey'll do? Dey'll go straight back ta yer 'ome and watch for ye ta come back. If we wanna get yer back ta yer parents, we 'ave no choice but ta sneak in."

And maybe we'll need ta sneak ye all out if we want ye ta be safe.

She didn't say that out loud, though. They'd blow up that bridge when they came to it.

"Do ye see a parking space?" Amy called out softly.

"There's a path heading off into the woods to the left," Karim's gravelly voice came from above. "We can hide the carriage there."

"Spiffin'. Do it!"

Five minutes later, they came to a stop between the trees. Exiting the coach, Amy shivered in the cold night air. A moment later, a warm leather coat settled around her shoulders.

"Here."

Looking up, she caught sight of Patrick, who had an intense look in his eyes as he gazed at her.

After a moment, they quickly broke apart, and he quickly cleared his throat. "Ehem. Well...let's do this, shall we?"

"Aye. Let's go."

She cast a glance at Karim. "Ye stay 'ere and guard da coach, all right?"

He looked affronted. "Why?"

"'cause we don't want a coach chock full of guns, rifles and lock picks being nicked." She sent him a look. "Also, ye're about as good at sneaking as a trumpet-playing grizzly bear."

"I shall guard," Karim said, wisely deciding not to argue with the latter statement.

Taking Grace by the hand, Amy moved into the trees, Patrick beside her, Titus conveniently staying a little bit behind them. Together, they slipped into the forest and moved among the shadows. Amy wasn't particularly used to the woods, but if there was anything she was good at, it was moving in the dark. Under her lead, they soon reached the small farmhouse at the edge of the village. There was just one problem.

"Why is it so dark?" Grace whispered. "And silent? Dey should just be comin' back from da fields. Dey should...Mum! Dad!"

Before Amy could stop her, Grace rushed towards the front door and pushed it open. Amy cursed. So much for secrecy. Gesturing to Patrick, she rushed after the little girl. Reaching the door, she pushed it open, revealing the interior.

An empty interior.