Excerpt: Vertigo: The Precarious Adventures of Lady Charlotte and Sir Anthony, Gentleman

The couple wandered out into the cold, starry evening of early November. Charlotte anxiously pulled the top of her fur coat closer to her skin; it was the eerie silence and the danger of escaping a potential death plot that made her skin shiver. Even her coworker, who was nearly always chattering away, was silent, save for the clunking of his boots against the pavement and the sound of his warm breath hitting the air.
When they were less than ten feet from the carriage, a firm grip took hold of Charlotte’s waist and clamped a rifle to her temple. “Ah, Miss Charlotte Matthews, how lovely it is to meet you at last,” muttered a gruff voice.
Already prepared for the moment, Anthony pulled a pistol from the inside pocket of his cloak and cocked the pin. “Let her go or I’ll blast you from here to America, you half-witted dingbat.”
The vandal, whose face was hidden from the light, merely laughed. “And there are the witty words of your partner that I hear so much about! Good to know all the rumors are true!”
“Release me, sir, or I swear to heaven that my partner will stand by his word.”
“Not until I have the information I desire,” he murmured.
“And what am I to get in return for this?”
“Your life.”
“Doubtful.”
The pistol suddenly seemed closer to her brain than before. “I swear, Matthews, if I hear another word utter from your lips-”
Before he could finish his statement, Charlotte quickly turned, lifted her skirts, and kicked him in the stomach with such force that he fell to the ground. Unawares, he threw his pistol into the air, which she caught seconds before it hit the ground. “Saying something would be unnecessary.”
Sir Clarke rounded on the vandal. “I really do not want to kill you.”
He narrowed his eyes and smirked. “Now that, my good friend, would be completely unnecessary.” He snapped his fingers and whistled.
“Bollocks,” muttered Charlotte, knowing that this must have been a sign to his fellow criminals to come running out of the ballroom.
Anthony and Charlotte began to run from the scene in the same instance, both whispering obscenities beneath their breaths. “Dammit, Anthony, if you had just left those dull-witted women alone-”
“How was I supposed to know that there were people after us?”
“Have you not just come to assume that there will always be people after us? Me, in particular?”
“Now that, I shall never understand,” he teased, laughing a little. “While you’re a fine prize to win, I am the one who possesses all the information they’d need.”
“Well good then, the next time that we find ourselves in the same predicament, I shall have to convince my captor that you are the one they ought to steal information from. I shall merely become the stupid woman who is taken advantage of.”
He smirked. “Things would be easier, you know, if we pretended to be lovers.”
“Out of the question! How can you even begin to fathom something so ridiculous at a time like this?”
“There are no other times to consider it!”
“Right ahead!” yelled the gruff voice of the first criminal who had taken Charlotte by surprise.
Three shots echoed around the deserted alleyway.
“I hate attempting to escape from balls!” she breathed, panting now as she and Sir Anthony rushed around the corner of an even darker street.
“Why?” he asked curiously.
“They can hear my skirts swish, I am sure of it!”
Rolling his eyes, Anthony put his right hand on her upper back and his left hand beneath her knees, picking her up in one swift motion. “A better question to ask,” he half-grunted as they began to run again. “Is why the hell you always insist I carry you when-”
“Hold it,” she whispered, spotting three men behind her. She took her revolver and aimed in their direction, shooting four times. After one fell, the man carrying her whooshed around a corner. “All right, continue.”
“Now I know why they partnered the two of us.”
“They partnered us because you were desperate and none of the other men trusted me.”
He softly laughed. “Oh, they trusted you, all right. Their problem was they had ulterior motives.”
“What?”
“Well, quite honestly, Miss Matthews, you’re rather-”
She aimed her gun again and shot thrice, cutting off his words again. When she glanced back to the front, her head nearly ran into a brick wall. “Would it kill you to run in a straight line?”
“Actually, yes, it might. These ruddy hoop skirts of yours are digging into my flesh-”
“Women do not wear hoopskirts anymore, Sir Clarke. Where have you been these past twenty years? Lord, this is not your grandmother’s generation-”
“Well then what are you calling this huge mass that resides on your bottom-”
“It’s a bustle, you imbecile man-” She cut herself off. “Oh for heaven’s sake, would they just give up the fight already?” Charlotte shot twice, but missed both targets completely. “Find an open building!” she whispered in his ear, “They’re about to shoot back and I am nearly sure to be out of ammunition.”
“Nearly sure?” he repeated, his voice higher than usual. “Either you are out of bullets or you aren’t, Charlotte, there is no-”
She shot the last one the pistol had to offer and missed again. Hoping her aim might miraculously improve, she hurled the handgun at the closest follower, successfully hitting his forehead, knocking him to the ground.
“Where is your pistol?” asked Charlotte urgently.
“Outside pocket of my cloak.”
She quickly took it from the tweed that encased it and checked the load. “You do not have a plethora of bullets, either!”
“And whose fault is that? I told you we should get back to the armory last week, but you insisted-”
“I insisted? You were too busy flirting with that unnamed woman who was oddly calling for you at the house!”
“Why, Miss Charlotte, I am appalled! Miss West was expressing concern over a traumatic experience-”
“And if I cried to you with a traumatic experience, you would refuse to listen!”
“I would not-”
Suddenly, Anthony stopped running.
“What?”
“Turn your head back to the front,” he replied mindlessly.
Charlotte gasped. The vandal stood less than fifty feet before them, a devilish grin on his face.
“The two of you are pathetic,” he hissed.
“Anthony, let me down,” breathed Charlotte.
“Not a chance,” he mouthed.
“All right, Miss Matthews, you have excellent aim. You’ve taken all my accomplices. Sadly, your direction failed when the gun was aimed to me.”
“What is it that you want from us, sir?” asked Anthony coldly.
“Ah, you are interested in my motives?”
In unison, the pair narrowed their eyes at their opponent.
“Of course you are. Unfortunately for you, I am not a man for frankness. Let her down as she asked, Sir Clarke. I am afraid that is the only way I can take her hostage.”
“I demand you explain yourself,” growled Clarke.
“I know the both of you to be in the secret confidence of the British government, and Queen Victoria in particular.”
“So what if we are? You have no proof,” replied Charlotte indignantly.
“Proof,” he scoffed. “Who needs proof in this world anymore?” The haggard scoundrel looked between Anthony and Charlotte. “I believe you know where the queen is at the moment. She is not at Buckingham, Windsor, or Holyroodhouse.”
“No,” they replied in unison.
“But you know where she is.”
Silence answered him.
He narrowed his eyes. “Tell the queen that there is a price upon her head-”
“There is always a price on Her Majesty’s head, she’s the queen for heaven’s sake!” exclaimed Anthony angrily.
The vandal took several steps closer to Charlotte and Anthony, his gun loaded. “You tell your queen that she is in grave danger.” He met eye contact with them for a few moments. “But I suppose only one of you is required to do so…” For the second time that evening, he placed the pistol to Charlotte’s head.
“You dare kill a lady?” she asked skeptically, her right hand in Sir Anthony’s coat pocket, drawing a dagger.
“Yes, I-”
Lady Charlotte stabbed him in one quick motion. Shock on his face, he fell to the ground, lifeless.
“I now understand why you refused to put me upon the ground,” she sighed. “My dagger is completely inaccessible at present.”
“Exactly,” he replied, grinning. Anthony set her back upon the ground. “Now, let us go to the Queen and inform her that she is once again under threat.”