Alright so here is chapter two. Still kind of nervous about this whole thing and finally getting my story out there. Hopefully I will link my tumblr to this soon but that is a problem for another day.
Once again I do not own anything Once Upon a Time Related or anything related to the genius that is Plunkett and Macleane. Enjoy and review if you wish!
Chapter 2:
Lady Belle French reached up and adjusted the lamp next to the door of the carriage. The sun had set and it was becoming increasingly harder to read by the lamplight but she was going to try her hardest. She heard mumbling in the background as she tucked her legs up underneath her and smoothed out her dress, keeping her balance on the bench as the carriage gave a small jolt, before getting back to the words on the page. It was just starting to get good, having read the novel in her delicate hands numerous times, she knew the outcome but regardless it was her favorite part. A small smile spread across her lips as she licked the very tip of her finger to turn the dry page with ease. A tiny unconscious yelp escaped her lips as the book was snatched from her hands and snapped shut with a firm clack. She looked up with wide, pleading blue eyes and said quietly, "Papa, please! My place, you lost it and-.."
"You'll find it again, I have no doubt." He said gently with the firm undertones of a concerned parent before placing the book beside him on his side of the carriage.
"Papa, it's a long ride, we aren't doing anything important. I was almost to the part-" She tried again her voice betraying a hint of desperateness that she wished she could keep under wraps. However, when it came to her books, her emotions often got the best of her.
"Where the Prince realizes his true purpose? Where the villain reveals his plot? Where the pauper finds unexpected treasure? Which one is it this time child? You've read them all, you know what happens." He paused in his rant and wished he could take back the last few sentences. However childish he thought her love of literature may be, this was no way to speak to his only daughter. Moe French had been having a difficult few months in the city. His frustrations with parliament were coming out in his words and his little angel didn't deserve that. He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes, "I'm sorry my girl." He handed her back her book and gave her hand a gentle squeeze as she took it and wrapped her arms around it, clutching the leather bound work to her chest like it was the most precious of items.
Belle didn't say anything back. She unfolded her legs and smoothed her skirt, sitting as a proper lady should, if only for the moment to appease her father. He didn't understand. He never did. They weren't just stories; they were a means of escape. Escape from this dreadful life of rules and expectations. Escape from the eyes of the London power hungry miscreants and their scornful looks that told Belle she wasn't lady like enough, she wasn't proper enough, she wasn't…enough at all. Belle never felt sorry for herself but at times she felt sorry for her father; sorry that she couldn't give him the daughter society wanted him to have. She read too much and practiced the piano too little. She thought too much and sewed too little. She wasn't wife material and she knew that, her father knew that, and their colleagues sought to remind them frequently. At the age of 20, instead of producing sons she was producing ideas. Any friends she might have almost had in their immediate circle had all but vanished as they were married off and began to raise their own families. At parties they often avoided her, Belle saw them whisper behind their fans as she passed, felt the conversation diminish as she entered the room, but she didn't care. They could talk if they liked, it didn't bother her. And despite her father's assumptions, she didn't consider herself lonely, for a lover of books never goes to bed alone. She closed her eyes and clutched the book tighter to her chest before exhaling slowly.
Her father straightened himself and began again, "This weekend will do you well dear. It will be a nice time away from the city and Gaston is coming up in a days time. That's exciting right?" He gave her a hopeful look at the mention of her potential suitor. If their time together went well over this short holiday, his pride and joy would be set for the rest of her life.
Gaston. Now there was a name she could have gone the rest of her life without hearing. Gaston Delacour was next in line to become a Lord of the Delacour estate. He was tall, he was handsome, he was ludicrously wealthy and he was the most vile man this side of England. Belle had no interest in him or his agenda with her, but the look on her father's face made her bite her tongue and keep these thoughts to herself. She nodded and added quietly into the dim light of the carriage, "Yes, it's exciting papa."
Her father smiled, a little more at ease that she had acknowledged excitement at seeing her suitor; in fact he was more at ease that she was speaking to him again. Belle was his world and all he wanted was her happiness, but he seemed no more able to give it to her than she was able to stop reading. He looked outside the window as Belle opened her book and began to read again. The sun had fully vanished and it was good and dark outside. The shadows of the trees passed by the window as the black masses fought against the flickering of the lamp inside the carriage. All was quiet as Belle and her father slipped back into silence, lost to their own thoughts.
Three things happened in the next moment simultaneously. A shot echoed through the glen, the horses attached to their carriage issued a loud whinny before prancing backwards, and with a jolt the carriage itself came to a halt. There was shouting as another shot went off and the carriage continued to shake as the horses pranced in fear. Belle dropped her book with a thump and reached for her father, clutching his hand. "P-papa…" she whispered, looking for signs of movement outside. The door to the carriage flew open and revealed two men, guns aimed at the father and daughter. Belle's father positioned himself in front of her as one of the ruffians broke the silence. "Oi, outta the carriage mate," he jerked his head to the side and both men took a step back to allow their victims room to follow orders. Moe stepped out first, planting his feet firmly on the ground in front of the carriage steps, not permitting Belle any further out into the open.
Macleane moved his gun to the side, motioning for Moe to move as well, "A little further. Be a gent and let the lady out as well."
Moe glanced at Belle before moving a step to the left, so far the highway men hadn't asked for anything unreasonable and he would indulge their harmless requests if it meant he and his daughter got out of this alive.
Plunkett looked up and offered his hand out to Belle as she stepped down, it was dark and she was small, he would hate to have her fall because Macleane was being choosy. Belle couldn't hide the shock on her face as the criminal offered her a hand, she glanced at her father but he was occupied with the other man in a stare down that seemed to be going nowhere. Belle looked back to the criminal's hand and took it hesitantly, using her free hand to lift her dress out of the way of her feet, she stepped down onto the ground beside her father.
"M'lady." Plunkett nodded to her before releasing her hand, glad to see she curtsied ever so slightly before clasping her hands in front of her. She didn't wipe them on her skirts as if to rid herself of his touch and he couldn't help but feel oddly touched by the gesture.
"Look, just tell us what you want…" Moe started but he was cut off by the first man.
"Any coin you have, hand it over," he took a burlap sack out of his belt and switched places with Plunkett. Once in front of Belle, Macleane opened the sack, letting the gun aim off to the side. "As for the lady, all the baubles in the sack."
Belle looked to her father and the criminal that had helped her out of the carriage, then back to the man in front of her with the sack. She didn't move to take off her jewelry but instead just looked at the both of them. Heart pounding in her chest, she tried to figure out a plan of action. 'Be brave, Belle. Be brave,' she told herself as she reached shaky hands up to her ears to unclip the chandelier sapphires from her lobes. She put them both in one hand and dropped them into the sack with a small clink.
"Good. Very good." Macleane licked his lips under the material of the mask, his mouth suddenly dry at the sight of the size of those stones around her neck. "And the necklace M'lady."
Belle willed her hands to be steady as she slowly reached up and undid the clasp on her necklace. She pulled it off and let it pool in her palm, looking at both the men before letting the trinket drop in after her earrings. Plunkett's mouth ran dry as well but for a reason other than the size of her jewelry. He forced his attention back on the girl's father, the old man was shaking like a leaf and the more nervous a person was, the more likely they were to do something stupid. "Hurry up," he said to Macleane as he adjusted his grip on the gun.
Belle saw the men exchange glances and she seized her chance. Quietly she reached down and slipped her mother's bracelet off of her wrist and dropped it between the valley of her breasts, allowing the metal to settle in her bodice. She kept her breathing steady and dropped her hands quickly, as if to appear to not have moved at all. However she wasn't quick enough and Macleane saw what she had done.
"What was that?" he raised an eyebrow at her but shook his head after a slight pause. "No matter, no matter. Whatever it is, hand it over. Everything goes in the sack."
Belle shook her head, 'Be brave, Belle. Be brave.' That bracelet was small, it would hardly bring them any coin and she was not about to lose the one thing she had of her departed mother. "I-I didn't do anything," she swallowed and held her head high. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Macleane had had enough. They had spent far too long on this job already and whatever she was trying to hide had to be valuable or she wouldn't challenge a highway man. Either that, or she was incredibly stupid. "Now lassie let's not be rash. Hand it over and we will be on our way. Surely a trinket isn't worth your life?" After Belle gave another firm shake of her head, Macleane reached forward and delved his hand down her bodice, going for whatever she was hiding in an act of desperation.
Plunkett's eyes became wide as he watched his partner reach down the dress of the young thing. He pointed the gun at the ground and hollered, "OI! Mate, leave it-…"
Belle let out a yelp as his cold hand touched her skin, going for the one thing she held most dear. Without so much as a second thought she scrunched up her face, made a fist, pulled her elbow back and punched Macleane as hard as she could in the middle of his face. Macleane fell to the ground with a thud, dropping his gun and sack to make sure the cloth stayed in place around his face.
"Belle!" Moe shouted, but made no move to reach for her, too shocked to do much more than gape.
"You are NOT allowed to put your hands on me sir!" Belle said breathlessly as her whole body seemed to vibrate with the adrenaline rush that she just experienced. Her chest heaved beneath her bodice as she felt the bracelet slip further down her corset.
Plunkett holstered his gun, knowing he wasn't going to be using it at this point in the game. He looked from Macleane, flat on his back, to the beauty standing in front of the carriage, looking ready to hit something else. He pocketed the gold from the old man and hoisted his friend up. Macleane scrambled to his feet with his help, trying to muster any dignity he had left. "She-! Sh-she!," he looked at Belle with complete shock mixed with mortification. Plunkett shoved him in the direction of the horses and looked back to Belle. She was so dainty, but what a punch! He chuckled underneath the cloth and shook his head. Hearing Macleane riding off, he pulled himself up onto his own mare and gave a small bow with an extending of his arm, "It's been a pleasure, M'lady." He clicked his tongue and the animal galloped off quickly catching up with his partner in crime.
Belle's heart hammered in her chest as her father wrapped his arms around her, bellowing about authorities and injustices and the nerve of ruffians. She mumbled in response as he asked about her well being and went to check on the unconscious driver towards the front of the carriage. She clutched her hand to her stomach and winced as the pain began to set into her knuckles. A glint of silver from the grass caught her eye as she bent and retrieved the pistol dropped by the highway man whose nose had probably seen better days. She quickly placed it in her basket on the inside of the carriage before her father could see and try and take it. She looked around, searching the woods of any sign of the two men but the dim light of the carriage lamp didn't allow for much sight as she soon gave up the search and went to help her father.