The lamp that lit the carriage shined faintly far off in the deep dark black. However Lydia caught her foot on the hem of her entangled skirt and tumbled. Just when she heaved herself up, the tip of a saber pointed at the tip of her nose.
“I said that we will take her along with us. John, you can struggle all you want, but you’re only a worthless good for nothing that’s fit to die in the garbage pit.”
Whose John?
Huxley grabbed Lydia.
Why, she thought to herself, as her blood boiled with fury. Why does every single one of them try to trick me, and threaten me, and why do I have to listen to what they say?
Even if Huxley had an edged weapon, she didn’t care as she finally lost her temper. Lydia fought back frantically, trying to break lose of his grip.
“Gossam, no, stop!” yelled Edgar.
Huxley must have been ticked off when Lydia bit down on his finger, and swung up his saber about to strike.
Shoved out of the strike by Edgar, Lydia witnessed the edge of the blade scrapping him on the shoulder, and slicing open his coat.
P.88
Edgar twisted his brows in pain.
When Huxley charged to strike again, Edgar, though he was injured, held out his walking stick.
From his stick, he drawed out a rapier, like a sword from its scabbard. He stopped Huxley’s saber with the forte of his blade, charged his strength and threw him back. He used that moment and force to cut Huxley’s cuff, which made Huxley quickly step backwards to put distance between them. Once again, Edgar pulled Lydia's arm as he dashed off in the opposite direction of Huxley. When they finally spotted a hackney, he shoved her in and climbed in himself.
“Who…who in the world are you! Who is John? And Gossam…” cried Lydia, but Edgar stopped her screaming by slapping his hand over her mouth.
“Drive, now.”
Even though Edgar was injured and the situation looked like he was forcing a young girl into the carriage, which from a normal person's view would look like a kidnap, the driver didn’t ask any questions after he was tossed a wad of money.