Page 8 of Storm over the Caribbean (Storm and Silence Saga #8)

The last thing I saw of my husband was a single hand, desperately waving from the ocean of oestrogen he was about to drown in. Cocking my head, I cast a glance at Patsy.

“I never thought I’d say this, but…thank you for siccing a bunch of women on my husband.”

“You’re welcome.”

She held out the platter with solid chocolate, and I took a piece. What a perfect moment shared between friends. We were just settling in to watch the show when, suddenly, someone decided to ruin our fun.

“Oy! Break it up, everyone!”

The rough voice cut right through the cheers of the crowd. As everyone went silent, I heard the noise that, so far, nobody had noticed: the thudding of heavy boots. Trepidation rising inside me, I turned in my seat to where the noise was coming from, and saw…

Crap!

There, dashing straight towards us across the park, their faces twisted into vicious smiles, stalked the worst nightmare of all suffragettes, freedom-fighters and jaywalkers: policemen. 4

“It’s the bluebottles!” some girl shouted. “Run!”

Ha! Run? Me?

Not likely!

Smiling grimly, I got to my feet and grabbed my chair by the backrest. The boys in blue wouldn’t be breaking up this demonstration. I was just about to lift the chair into the air when a hand grabbed me by the wrist.

Huh?

“Stop this, Lilly! You can’t!”

Who? Who would dare to stop me from venting my righteous wrath upon the enemies of feminism? My head whirled around and…

My jaw dropped.

Patsy?

Patsy was stopping me?

Brain, restart please. And then check if the world is still rotating the right way.

“Patsy, what are you doing?” I demanded.

In answer, her gaze slid down. What was she looking at? There was nothing there, except…

Except my belly. My big, bulging, pregnant belly.

Oh.

Crap! How the hell could I have forgotten?

Wasn’t as if the little brat didn’t remind me with kicks at regular intervals!

And I was going to go into a fight like this?

Instinctively, my hands moved down and came to rest protectively over the bulge.

The thought of what I had almost done, what I had risked…

I felt like ramming my head against the wall. Only, I couldn’t! Because I had to watch my health, dammit!

“Oy, ye dere! Didn’t ye ’ear me? Break it up!” My head jerked up. While I’d been distracted, the policemen had already reached the edge of the crowd. “This whole event is disturbing da Queen’s peace!”

“Really?” one of the women called out. “An event for women’s rights is disturbing the Queen’s peace?”

Without hesitation, one of the bobbies reached out to grab the woman by the arm.

The problem?

The woman in question was my friend, Eve. Before the bluebottle could even try dragging her off, her elbow was buried in his guts.

“Oomph!”

“Let go, prick!”

“Assault!” I didn’t know which of the policemen the shout came from, but it didn’t matter. “Assault on an officer of the law. Get them!”

In an instant, they had swarmed us. Only then did I realize they’d been waiting for this: an excuse, any excuse, to crack down on us. Now they had it.

Bloody hell!

Thud!

“Agh!”

The first girl crumpled under a strike from a truncheon. Immediately, two policemen jumped her, wrestling her to the ground. That was a mistake.

These were my friends, my friends’ friends, and my friends’ friends’ poodles. I might not be able to fight. But I sure as hell was able to command.

“Get ’em, girls!”

“She’s right!” Eve shouted. “Get ’em!” And she jumped forward, towards the policemen. Shouts of agreement came from all around and, parasols raised, every single woman rushed forward to meet the attack. A moment later, the two forces clashed, and—

“Argargargh! Get dat friggin’ dog off me arse!”

“Ha! Take that, oppressor of womanhood!” Wham! “And that!” Wham! “And that!”

Smiling, I settled down on my chair and surveyed the battle like a general would his army. And what an army they were! Elbows slammed into abdomens, parasols poked and prodded whatever they could reach. We could actually win this! We could—

Just then, the shrill sound of a police whistle echoed over the meadow. My head jerked up and I saw them.

Crap! Reinforcements!

More policemen streamed into the park through the gate. Dozens, no, nearly a hundred of them! Bloody hell! Was their boss the chief chauvinist of London or something?

The women were now swiftly losing ground.

They tried to use parasols, chairs and whatever else they could get hold of to defend themselves, but it was pointless.

The police outnumbered them two to one and, as much as it galled me to admit, were stronger and tougher.

Before I knew it, they had forced their way through the crowd. Forced their way to where I was.

“Hey!” And then there she was. Patsy, standing right in front of me. “Don’t you dare! Can’t you see she’s preg—”

That was when the policeman at the head of the pack shoved her out of the way, sending her sprawling onto ground. Before I could blink, he was on me. Was the bastard actually going to…?

Hell yes, he was!

Narrowly, I dodged his first strike. For the first time in a long time, I felt fear.

Real fear. And not just for myself. No, this was fear for my friends, fear for my family, fear for my child .

I tried to jump back, but I rammed into the table behind me, forcing a pained gasp out of my throat.

The policeman in front of me smirked. Growling, he raised his truncheon to strike—only for a hand to clamp around his wrist, almost snapping it in half.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”