The Vigilante

The word ‘patient’ has never been a descriptor for Anne Lister, and today is no different. This wedding shouldhave been over and done with by now, she thinks to herself. She squirms in her seat, looking around for Ann. 

“What are you like! Have you got ants in your drawers?” Anne turns and glares at Marian for asking such a ridiculous question. 

“If you must know, I’m looking for Miss Walker. She should have been back by now. I don’t understand the delay, I’m going to look for her.” Marian rolls her eyes as she watches her sister excuse herself past occupants in the pew, then move toward the rear of the nave. 

Anne approaches the dressing room door and pushes on it lightly. She hears voices…Ann’s voice. She cocks her head to listen in.

“I wanted so desperately to help you, Miss Walker! I stood just outside your sitting room door, every time he visited. I heard you…you begged him to let you go! But he just kept on…doin’ those nasty things. I tried to think of excuses to interrupt you, but the door was always locked.” 

James is standing next to the table now. His hand resting on a heavy candlestick sitting on the table’s surface. His fingertips mindlessly tap around its edges. He wipes away another fresh batch of tears. “I’m so sorry. I failed you.” 

Ann continues to try and placate James, keep him talking. “James, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I couldn’t protect you. And then after you were attacked on the path…that bastard…Ainsworth…he showed up on your doorstep a few days later with a black eye.  And I knew then. I knew it was him. And I knew I had to stop it.”

Ann can barely breathe. She’s trying to think on her feet and keep James in conversation, but she’s running out of questions…and options. She needs to cause a ruckus so someone in the church hears her. So Anne can hear her.

“Miss Walker…now that you know…what are you going to do?” James looks at her, hoping he has convinced her that what he did was right, and that everyone he killed deserved to die. Because if she’s not supportive…

Ann opens her mouth to speak several times, but nothing comes out. Her hands slide along the wall behind her, but there’s no place to go. 

James sees her hesitate, sees the panic just below the surface. He knows now…he has no choice.

He picks up the candlestick and hefts it in his hand, assessing its weight and how hard he’ll have to swing it in order to kill her. He stares at her. This is Ann…Ann Walker. A woman he cares for, deeply…a woman he’d do anything for…a woman he’d (and has) kill for.  He’s breathing hard, trying to decide what to do next, experiencing an extreme misery of conscience. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, ma’am.”

“Then don’t.” 

James’ head snaps over toward the door and sees Anne Lister, her stance solid, her expression set to a hard stare. Ann gasps at the sound of her voice. 

“Anne!”

James heaves the candlestick at Anne, but his aim is slightly wide and Anne easily evades the weapon. He turns to run out another door on the opposite side of the small room, but Anne is too quick. She sprints toward him and flings herself through the air, her arms making contact with his torso and wrapping around his waist. The force of her body takes him down in a full-body tackle. Ann screams in the corner as the combined bodies of Anne and James crash into the table, the back of James’ head smacking against its edge and knocking him out cold.

//////////////////

Anne and the constable finish their quiet conversation away from the rest of the crowd that has moved outside the church. They shake hands and the constable climbs into his carriage that now contains one handcuffed prisoner…James Mackenzie.

Ann looks over at Anne with so much love and tenderness in her heart. Her hair is frazzled, strands poking this way and that. Her shirt sleeve is ripped, and she has a dirt smudge on her cheek and forehead. All in all, she’s in one piece, and that’s all that matters to Ann Walker. She walks over to Anne and loops her hand through her arm. 

“Well, Miss Lister. You sure now how to show a girl a good time.” 

Anne chuckles and covers Ann’s hand with her own. “Are you all right?”

“With you around? I’ll always be all right.”

“Hmm.”

Anne looks over and sees Suzannah clutching Thomas’ hands, still in shock over the events of the day. 

“I’ll be right back,” she whispers to Ann.

Anne walks over to the bride and groom, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Thomas..Suzannah. I know this isn’t what you thought your wedding day would turn out to be…but the day isn’t over yet. And everyone is still here.”

Thomas and Suzannah look at one another, silently considering whether they should press on with the wedding. Thomas looks at Anne.

“I’d need a best man.”

Anne considers this. “I think my father is available.”

Thomas smirks. “Captain Lister?  Would he?”

Anne smiles and nods. “I think he’d be thrilled to do it.”

//////////////////

The Lister family, including Ann, sit by the fire in the sitting room at Shibden Hall, recounting the details of the day for Aunt Anne, including the wedding.  

“Oh, Aunt, you should have seen her!” Ann’s eyes are wide, a glass of madeira in one hand, the other gesticulating dramatically as she describes Anne’s heroic tackle. A few drops of the wine splash onto Anne’s pelisse, but she ignores it. Besides, it’s black, it’ll hide anything.

“It was all so scary, I could have died a fright! But Anne…she just took control! She really knew the drill!”

Aunt Anne squeals with excitement as Marian shakes her head. “What a day you’ve had!” says Aunt Anne. “I just can’t believe, after all this time, it was your footman, Miss Walker.”

Ann turns melancholy. “I know…I just can’t believe he would do something like that. Kill all those people…and then feel justified in doing it.”

Anne cocks her head as she considers the other side of the story. “You know…when you think about it… had those people not been killed, and instead been arrested for their crimes, they would have spent a very long time in jail, at great cost to the tax payer. And that’s only if they were found guilty. If they’d gotten off scot free, they probably would have continued doing the wrongs they’d been doing.” Anne reaches over and squeezes Ann’s hand. “Possibly worse. So in a way, James prevented future crimes from occurring, and he saved us all a lot of money. I completely understand why he did it.”

Everyone looks quizzically at Anne.

“Did you really just say that.” Aunt Anne can’t believe Anne would take that position.

“Well, you did see her mouth open and the words come out.” Anne glares at her father. 

“All I’m saying is to think about these kinds of things from all sides before you pass judgement. Have I taught you all nothing?”

Anne takes in a deep breath and looks at Ann sitting in the love seat next to her. “Well, Miss Walker, it’s been a long day. I think I’ll retire for the evening.”

Ann fakes a yawn. “I agree, it has been a long day. I um…I think I’ll join you. Goodnight, everyone. Sleep well.” Ann still gets embarrassed when she and Anne leave the room together to go upstairs to bed. 

They make their way upstairs and Anne shuts the bedroom door. Ann is on her faster than lightning. Anne stumbles and bumps against the door, Ann’s lips glued to hers, her hands grabbing at her shoulders.

Anne chuckles through the kiss. “Miss Walker, we have to get some sleep.”

Ann continues to assault her mouth, her teeth biting Anne’s lower lip and sucking it between her own. She pulls back only slightly. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“Have you.”

“Mm hmm. You saved me, Anne. I don’t know what he would have done next if you hadn’t come through the door. For once, I appreciate your impatience.”

Anne laughs and pushes Ann back toward the bed. “Well, I appreciate your showering me with affection, but I have to be honest…I’m exhausted. I need sleep.”

Ann tsks and pouts, but easily gives in to Anne’s desires. They change into their night clothes and Ann hunkers down under the covers, Anne slipping in behind her as the big spoon. 

“I still can’t believe he did that,” whispers Ann through a deep yawn.

“I know. And you think you’d know someone after having been in the same house all those years.” Anne’s voice is sleepy and Ann can tell she’s starting to drift.

“What do you think will happen to him?”

“Not sure.” Anne hugs her a little harder, snuggles in a little deeper. “Shhh. Sleep.”

Ann thinks about James and what he might be doing in that moment. Is he cold? Has he eaten? Is he scared? She acknowledges that she’ll need to ride over to Crownest tomorrow and inform the servants that James is no longer working there and why. Bad news travels fast, and they probably all know by now, but still…she is the lady of the house. It will still come as a shock. 

Her heart breaks for him. What he did was wrong, but like Anne, she understands why he did it. She always felt so protected by James, and now he won’t be there, guarding over Crownest and all its inhabitants. 

It’s not long before Anne is lightly snoring in Ann’s ear. Normally, it might annoy her, but on this day, Ann will allow it. Anne Lister can snore all she likes.

///////////////////////

Anne and Ann saunter down the stairs to join the family for breakfast. Ann loves the mornings at the Lister table, it’s always so entertaining. Anne pulls Ann’s chair out for her and helps her get settled, while Marian does the same for Aunt Anne. Jeremy is already into page three of the paper, snarfing down a piece of toast.

“Anything new in the paper, father?”

“Hmph. Not a thing. Ever since that mayhem you caused over at the church, nothing exciting has happened.”

“I caused? I think you need to revisit the facts.” Anne winks at Ann and passes her a plate of toast, followed by the jam. George enters the room notifying the residents of a visitor.

“Miss Lister? The constable is here again, asking to see you.”

Anne exhales heavily. “What could it be this time? Any word in the paper, father, of the Rawson’s Bank being robbed?” Jeremy chuckles. “Show him in, George.”

A minute later George returns with the Sheriff. 

Anne leans back in her chair, casual and confident. “Mr. Maxwell, good morning. What brings you to Shibden this time? Please tell me I’m not a suspect for some other egregious crime.”

“Well…”

Anne sits up straight and shoots him a stern look.

“I’m sorry to tell you all this, but James McKenzie has escaped.”

Jaws drop around the table and a chorus of shock erupts.

“What?!”

Mr. Maxwell is obviously embarrassed by this turn of events. Somehow his men have let James Mackenzie slip through their hands. 

“Our guard was found in his chair this morning, just outside Mr. Mackenzie’s cell, out cold. He doesn’t remember anything. The doctor thinks someone gave him some kind of sedative in his tea. I’m sorry for the unpleasantness, but I have to ask…could anyone here have helped him escape?”

Ann denies it on everyone’s behalf. “Absolutelynot!”

Anne looks over at Ann, surprised that she not only spoke up, but so fervently. 

“Any idea where he might have gone, Miss Walker? Out of everyone here, I suppose you know him the best.”

Ann thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. “None at all. He has no family, they’ve all died. They were all from Scotland. Should I..should we be at all concerned?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t think so. The odds of Mr. Mackenzie coming back here to do anyone more harm is highly unlikely. We think he’s long gone from Shibden Valley.”

Anne looks frustratedly at the Sherrif. “Well…it seems this story just never ends.” The Sheriff inwardly shrinks from embarrassment.

“And you’re sure no one from this household had any involvement in his escape?” 

Anne response is clipped. “Asked and answered, sir”

“Yes, well…I beg your pardon for the interruption and I bid you all a good day.”

“Best of luck to you, Mr. Maxwell.” Jeremy gives him a small salute as George escorts the Sheriff out of the room.

Ann looks over at Anne who is looking out the stained glass windows, obviously deep in thought. Aunt Anne’s eyes dart around the table, waiting for somebody to say something. 

“Should we be worried?”

Anne looks over at her and smiles. “No, Aunt, no reason to be worried at all. You heard the sheriff…James Mackenzie is long gone.”

/////////////////// 

Ann let’s out a deep breath as she comes down from her orgasm, Anne kissing her way up her abdomen after a long and satisfying session of oral sex. Anne hovers over her and kisses her languidly. This is Ann’s second favorite part of sex with Anne. Their foreheads touch as they smile.

Anne flops down beside her in the bed as Ann rolls over, a silent directive for Anne to hug her from behind. Anne pulls the blanket up over Ann’s arms, her own slipping underneath and wrapping around Ann’s waist. She sighs happily as Anne kisses her shoulder underneath the nightgown.

There is pleasant silence for a few moments, but Ann breaks that with a whisper.

“Anne?”

“Yes, darling?” Her voice has that sleepy edge to it again and Ann knows she only has a few seconds before Anne is a goner.

“Did you …did you help James?”

Anne snuggles in closer, trying to get warm. “Help James with what, Love?”

“Escape.”

Anne’s eyes fly open and she stills. “Now why on earth would I do such a thing?”

“Because you know how much I care about him. He’s been with my family for such a very long time. He’s like a brother to me. And you even said…paraphrasing here…’those people that were killed are better off not being on the planet for all the terrible things they did. They got their comeuppance’. 

“I never said-“

“And I mean, I know we shouldn’t take the law into our own hands, but in a way, those people that were harmed got justice, didn’t they?”

“Well…I mean, in a way.” They are silent for a few moments. “To be honest, I thought it might have been you that helped him.”

“Me?! Pfft! How in the world would I manage that!”

They snuggle up again. “I guess we’ll never know how he escaped. Funny thing, karma.”

“You need to blow out the candle, Love.”

Anne’s too tired to move. “It’ll burn out on its own.” 

Ann twists around in Anne’s arms and cups a cheek in her hand. She looks lovingly into Anne’s eyes.  “I love you,” she whispers.

Anne nuzzles into her neck. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” They kiss goodnight and slowly drift off into a deep slumber.

/////////////

In a field not too far away, James Mackenzie looks up at the candlelight in the upstairs window of Shibden Hall. His whip secured in the pouch hanging over his shoulder, and a small bag of food and belongings slung over his other, he sends up a word of thanks to the woman who helped him escape the confines of the Halifax jail. In spite of everything he did, she still helped him with the promise that he would never take the law into his own hands again. He trudges off into the woods toward the small thatched summer cottage that, for now, he will call ‘home’.