A/N: Okay guys, here we go. This should start picking up soon and of course I know what is coming so I am getting super excited! That being said, my excitement sometimes leads to me updating the chapter prematurely! So if something doesn't make sense or appears to be missing then let me know! It is hard to see plot holes because they are all present in my head, haha. Thanks for all your help. :)
Chapter 7:
Belle tucked Macleane's pistol, well now it was hers according to Plunkett, back under her bed after giving it a proper cleaning. Over the last two weeks Plunkett had taken her out to practice when the weather cooperated and they could sneak away without running the risk of being discovered. She had gotten fairly good with the weapon and every time she hit the target her entire being would swell with pride. William was an excellent teacher and his patience with her and his willingness to teach her in the first place only heighted her fancy of him.
She smiled to herself as she thought of her very own gentleman highwayman. Her father would never approve, the city would shun her and yet she had a hard time finding a reason to care. The entire affair was scandalous. But why should it be? Though he had no fortune to his name, no large mass of land under his boots and no say in parliament, William Plunkett was twice that of any man that Belle had ever met. Stations be damned. Money be damned. Belle tightened her grip on the window sill as she tried to come to terms with her anger at society. She was reaching her wits end and yet had no clue on how to remedy her situation.
Stacks of books littered the floor and she bent gently to scoop up an armful and put them all back in their proper places. After their days out in the meadow, William would often return to her room and leave his horse to graze as they quietly climbed the rose trellis up to the window. He shared his love of guns with her so she thought it had been only fair to give him something in return, her love of books. She had proposed the idea to him a few nights after their first outing and she had never regretted it. Once inside her room, and being the gentleman that he was, Plunkett would sit at her feet on the floor as Belle took the large straight backed reading chair in front of the fireplace. Smoothing her skirts and opening a worn book in her lap she would read softly aloud and he would listen, watching her lips dance across the words with eager eyes. After an hour or so, he would excuse himself and slip out into the night so she could rest. But after such an evening, sleep often eluded her and she would lay in the moonlight and smile to herself as thoughts of her secret companion danced in her head.
A knock came gently on the door and Belle stood up straight and placed the last book back on the shelf, saying quietly, "Come in."
Alice walked in with her face cast towards the floor. She twisted her hands in front of her and, mumbled 'I'm sorry my lady' before being shoved aside as Gaston walked through the door way. What space of the frame that wasn't taken up by his over bearing size was filled by a sense of anger that was practically radiating from him.
"Get out," he growled as he glared at Alice.
Belle placed her hands on the back of the reading chair and stood tall as the door to her room closed quietly and the two were left alone. When it came to Gaston, she wasn't afraid but there was no harm in putting a piece of furniture between them when he was this furious. He walked to the fireplace and chipped a piece of the paint off the mantle, staring at his fingertips without saying a word.
After a few long moments of silence, his laughter broke through the room. Deep and vibrating from his chest as he gripped the wood of the mantle and let his shoulders shake with whatever it was he found so funny. Belle's hands grew clammy as the noise put her on edge. After his bitter laughter quieted, he turned to her.
"Do you know what all of London is saying about me Belle?" he said with a smile, a smile that was all teeth and no soul. Belle stayed quiet and let him continue, she didn't know what to say so she thought it was best to say nothing. "All of London is aflutter my darling Belle. With rumors as to why the likes of you would turn down marriage to the city's most eligible bachelor."
"I haven't heard any rumors Gast-…" Belle tried calmly.
"That's because you haven't been listening!" he slammed his fist onto the wooden shelf above the fireplace and turned to her. "I have an image and you are spoiling it!" He strode across the room to her and his presence backed her into the book shelf.
"A month ago I was Gaston, the richest, most sought after man in London! Now I am the man that was rejected by Moe French's psychotic daughter. People are inventing reasons why you turned me down, some say I've lost my fortune, some say I'm a coward, high pitched giggles fill the ballrooms with words of Gaston the inadequate lover." He spoke quickly and harshly enough that a small amount of spittle escaped his lips and Belle winced away from it. He closed the inch between them and growled in her face, trapping her against the shelves. "You've made a fool of me Belle and I will not stand for it."
What could she do? Belle was trapped and she had defied him once before but she had lost her advantage when Gaston had lost his last ounce of common sense. Taking a slow breath she said flatly, "Gaston, I apologize. I don't know what you want me to do."
"I wanted you to marry me. That was all. But you lost the privilege…" He pushed away from her and walked back to the center of the room. Smoothing his hair back and shaking himself, he seemed at peace once more and acted as if his outburst didn't happen. He fixed his brown coat and cracked his neck twice before stopping and staring into the distance.
What was he talking about? This two-faced act was leaving Belle increasingly worried, but she couldn't help but be relieved that he was no longer in her personal space. She breathed a little easier and moved closer towards the door.
Gaston continued, "Your father is losing his position in parliament. I've talked to people higher than he and heard the whispers. It won't be long and he could lose everything."
This was not news to Belle. With the constant bickering between the classes and the country's increasing since of unease everyone's days in their current job were numbered. "What does this have to do with my father?"
Gaston smirked. "A powerful man looses everything, it is quite possible that he could have a…let's call it an 'accident'. Marry me and I could help to insure his…safety."
Belle's heart felt as if it had stopped beating in her chest. The world around her seemed to slow down as the room narrowed itself in on her. This wasn't happening. Gaston looked at her and by the evil that now lurked beneath his eyes she had no doubt that he was capable of anything. How could anyone be this monstrous? Tears burned in her own eyes as she looked away and gripped the shelf by the door. She felt sick. Any moment the bile that had built inside her stomach would find it's way onto the floor along with her if she didn't sit down soon. Everything was going so well these past few weeks with William that thoughts of Gaston and his anger had left her entirely. William. That was it. Maybe Plunkett could help. But what could he do? Gaston was proposing to murder her father if she didn't succumb, what could either of them possibly do.
While she was thinking, Gaston walked back up to her and said deeply, "The way I see it, you have two choices. Marry me and let your father live to walk you down the aisle. Or refuse me and come crawling back once you've lost what little the French name holds and you are fighting for a meal on the street. "
He kissed her cheek gently; a kiss so gentle that it should have never been paired with a situation such as this. That one act proved to Belle how far off the deep end Gaston had gone and she stifled a sob as the first tear escaped her cheek.
With that, he walked out of her room and slammed the door loudly enough that the noise echoed through the halls. Nothing more needed to be said, he had proved his point; he had won. Belle crumpled to the floor in a half seated position, her palms pressed against the hard wood as her crying took over and she shook in hopelessness.
"So who is she?"
Plunkett jerked his head up as he come out of his daydream at the sound of Macleane's voice. As they rode along the dirt road around dusk in silence, his thoughts had drifted back to Belle. They now had a funny habit of doing that more often than not and his partner had begun to notice his distraction.
"What are you talking about?" he said as normally as he could and sat up straighter in the saddle.
Macleane rolled his eyes and brought his horse up short, coming to a complete stop. "Oh come off it!" He moved in front of Plunkett's mare so he couldn't avoid the subject. "You leave every day before I wake up; I'm guessing it is so you don't have to explain where you're headed. You only return on nights that we plan our hold-ups and you are in a constant state of dreaming. So I ask again. Who is she?"
Plunkett forced himself to restrain the smile that wanted to break free at the mention of "she". She was perfect, she was beautiful and if Macleane only knew that 'she' was Lady Belle French, well then there might have been an issue. Plunkett had definitely set the bar high when he began courting, if that was what you could call it, Lady Belle, but then again he did always have a taste for the finer things in life.
For the last fortnight William and Belle had met in the early morning many times, traveled out to the meadow, and practiced improving her skill with Macleane's pistol. She was an apt student and Plunkett marveled at how quickly she was able to hit the center of his paper targets with ease. However, his Belle was a bright one and she already had him wrapped around her dainty finger. Often she would miss on purpose, several times in a row and turn to him with shining blue eyes and say gently, "Will, I just don't know what I am doing wrong?" It was merely an excuse to have him close, they both knew it but he would never say no to his pistol wielding beauty. He then would gladly stand behind her and place his hands on her waist and whisper words of advice in her ear as she practiced again.
Out in the meadow, in the crisp morning air was his favorite place to be lately. They would practice for hours, talking about nothing and he would steal as many touches and chaste kisses as she would allow him. She tumbled him into the grass the other morning and convinced him to lie still and simply look at the clouds. At first he felt foolish, but she didn't ask for much and he was willing to give her what he could. She told him of her books, of her father and of the life she someday wanted; he listened with eager ears and watched her lips move faster and faster as she grew excited about the things she spoke of. It took all he had not to roll over and kiss her for the rest of the day; instead, he settled for reaching down and gently taking her hand, he laced their fingers and she turned her head, beaming.
"Plunkett!" Macleane snapped his fingers in front of his partners face, looking annoyed.
"You wouldn't know her." He said quickly as he came back from his thoughts and turned his horse around Macleane's and spurred it into a trot.
"Oh no you don't." Macleane caught up with him quickly and stopped him again. "The only reason you would refuse to tell me is if I do know her or if your relationship with her is less than acceptable." He paused. "Or is it…both?"
Plunkett wanted nothing more than to gallop into the woods and avoid this conversation, but his friend wasn't going to stand for it. He had given the younger man so much shit for his infatuation over Lady Rebecca, it seemed only fair that it was now his turn. Macleane stared him down and kept his horse where it was, waiting for a response.
He finally sighed and looked up, closing his eyes and saying quietly, "Lady Belle French."
Macleane dropped the reigns, flailing for them as he almost fell off his own horse and looked at Plunkett with wide eyes. "Lady Belle French? Lady Belle French?!" He couldn't have looked more surprised if Plunkett would have said he was sneaking around with Rochester. "Are you barking mad?"
"Look, just drop it okay?" William rode around James and continued along the road.
"Oh no. No no no no no no." Macleane chuckled and he trotted alongside the other man. "Lady Belle French. At least we know that she gets along with Rebecca. Are you taking her to America? Do you think she is cut out for farm work? Building a cabin? The long ship ride across the ocean?"
Plunkett grew silent. His hunger for a new life in America was still there but in all honesty over these last few weeks it had been pushed aside. With Belle was the happiest he had been in London since before the dividing of the classes that had caused him to lose his shop and the family he almost could have had. She shed a little light on his broken heart and in all honesty he had followed it blindly; like a moth to a flame, he let her guide him by the hand towards a new happiness and in turn it had put America on pause.
"You haven't told her have you?" Macleane's tone of voice changed completely as he looked at his partner in crime. "Plunkett, I cannot do this without you. We are so close-…"
"I'll handle it. Trust me." He cut him off as they settled the horses into the edge of the woods. The conversation was going to end there for now; they had a job to do. The sun had already slipped beyond the horizon and both men reached back and slipped on their masks. It had been a week since they had accomplished a good robbery and tonight had to be perfect.
"After this is over are you going to go see her?" Macleane asked, adjusting the cloth over his face.
"Yes." Plunkett answered shortly and left it at that, he heard a carriage in the distance and clicked his tongue, taking the lead on this one. As the carriage approached, he galloped around the front while Macleane took the rear. They surrounded it with ease and forced the driver to come to a screeching halt.
"Stand and Deliver!" Macleane shouted as he jumped from the horse and ripped open the door of the carriage, gun raised and burlap sack in hand. Plunkett had his sights on the driver, who stared him down like a man possessed.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not worth it mate." Plunkett said calmly as he kept his pistol pointed at the man's chest. Macleane was almost done and they would be well on their way in a matter of seconds.
"If only you knew just how much, you wouldn't say that." The driver said cryptically. Plunkett didn't have time to question the statement before the man raised his hand from where it lay on the seat and fired. The shot echoed around in the night as the bullet zipped past William, grazing his shoulder. His mare didn't rear back but instead stayed steady as he gripped the reigns tightly and walked the animal backwards.
He looked to Macleane and yelled, "GO!" as the two men settled for the loot they already had and speed off into the dark, away from the carriage and it's less than stable driver. They rode hard and fast; hooves kicking up clods of dirt until they made it deep into the woods and Plunkett transferred the reigns over to one hand. He then placed his free hand over his now bleeding shoulder. Macleane rode up to him, clutching the sack of gold and pulled his mask off, asking breathlessly, "What happened?"
Plunkett shook his head and looked down at his hand and the blood slowly pooling through his fingers, it wasn't fatal but it sure hurt like hell. "I don't know. He fucking shot me. Said 'if I only knew how much it was worth'."
"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Macleane scrunched up his face in confusion.
"I honestly don't know mate. But it can't be good." William winced as he moved his arm and adjusted himself in the saddle.
His partner didn't know what else to say and the uneasy feeling in his stomach was not something to be addressed now. The first goal was to patch up his friend and make it back to the flat in one piece. No one had ever fought back during a robbery with firearms and the fact that this night could have ended considerably worse for the both of them had left the two of them uneasy and a bit rattled. Silence fell between them before he looked to Plunkett and said in a calming manner, "Come on. Let's get you fixed up. The sun has set and you'd hate to keep Lady Belle waiting." He waggled his eyebrows and laughed as he rode off ahead.
For a moment, Plunkett longed to punch the pup in the arm for his suggestiveness but at the mention of Belle he couldn't help but smile and spurred his horse forward. Whatever plan of action that got him into her company the fastest was fine by him.