His friend emerged from the trees to his right, bearing a nasty grin. They had matching yellowing teeth, and from their smell, they hadn’t washed in a while.
Rage filled Percival at the thought that they put their filthy hands on Louisa. She must have been so frightened when she awoke to see their faces.
He was grateful to see that they were not farmers who lived on his estate, so he wouldn’t feel guilty once they were jailed. He only hoped that he wouldn’t kill them in anger if they chose to fight him.
“He expects us to obey ‘im just because ‘e says so, Rowan.” The one called Fred laughed.
“That’s the problem with all of ‘em noble folk,” Rowan sneered, spitting on the ground. “They always expect us to obey their every command. Just like that slimy bastard who employed us.”
“I do not want to hurt you,” Percival told them. “I just want my wife.”
They laughed and started circling him.
“You should be more worried about us hurting you,Your Grace,” Fred snarled.
“She’s not going anywhere,” the first man said. “And neither are you.”
Percival watched their movements, studying their body language. They didn’t look like trained men but those who used their sizes to their advantage and their stances told him all he needed to know.
It would be nothing short of a nuisance to deal with them, but since they insisted on being stubborn, he wasn’t against showing them that they had crossed the wrong person.
They lunged, but he’d been expecting that and dodged their blows, which showed strength rather than skill.
They moved fast, swinging their fists without clear direction, and from the looks of things, they would tire quickly.
Percival used their lack of skill to his advantage, weaving through their twin attacks, dodging their blows until he could see and hear their laboured breaths.
He chose to fight then, each blow and kick meeting its target. They unsheathed their daggers then, and he knew that if he didn’t end things quickly, he would end up with two more deaths on his conscience.
“You do not have to do this,” he warned. “Whatever you’re being paid, I can double it.”
He wanted to give them the option to at least leave peacefully before the constables arrived, but it seemed they had chosen violence.
“What would happen to our reputation, then?” Fred laughed.
They lunged with their daggers, and he had to dodge even quicker than before, not wanting to be nicked by the honed blades that glinted in the moonlight. With the day now truly dark, there was an ominous feeling in the air as his senses honed from years of battle kicked in.
He hadn’t had to fight for his life since his return to London and he didn’t like the feeling.
With a final kick and blow, he rendered the two men unconscious just as the constables appeared at the edge of the clearing. They took in the scene and rushed towards him. Diana was right behind them, looking as tired as he felt.
“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirked, coming to inspect the scene.
“They came out of the trees and attacked me first,” Percival answered with a grin of his own.
“Are they dead?” She asked stepping closer to them.
“They’re not but right now I’m sure they wish they were.”
She smiled brightly, straightening and he could see Louisa reflected in the mischief swimming in her eyes.
“Tie them up and hold them,” he ordered the constables.
“Your Grace, I am Captain Mallory Briggs,” one of the men said. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to your wife.”
Percival waved off the man’s sympathy and pointed at the warehouse. “I believe my wife’s sister already told you everything she knew. My wife is being held in there, but I didn’t see any more men, and I couldn’t ask how many were inside,” he told him. “That is all the information I have currently.”
“We’ll go ahead from here, Your Grace,” Captain Briggs told him. “You have done enough for your wife. Leave the rest to us.”