Renegade Nell

She murdered my father!

You saw what happened.

- Who did it? - She did.

There's evil in the ether, Nelly Jackson.

In a good world, I'd find a magistrate who might listen to the truth.

But in the real world, that's not gonna happen.

So here's an idea.

You and me should team up, Nelly Jackson.

Let's pretend to be Lord and Lady So-and-So.

Why do you live like this if you're a toff in real life?

My old man liked the gambling tables too much.

If anybody can find your father's killer, it's Jarrold.

I've no idea who this Lord Shankley might be,

but the description of the four others fits perfectly, including your runaway.

She fights like a demon with the strength of 10 men.

It's going to take more than mere mortals to capture her.

'Tis an invitation to go playing cards with Lord and Lady Springbourne.

There are more things in this world than most people ever begin to imagine.

I'm thinking this is a mistake, Nelly Jackson.

Like must be fought with like.

And what takes you to London, Lady Shankley?

I'm thinking we should be turning on our heels

and getting out of here, Nelly Jackson.

Pleasure. Pure pleasure. My wife adores the theater.

Does she?

- Whose work do you favor, Lady Shankley? - Gosh.

It's just something I can't put a finger on.

All of them. She likes all of them.

And the… the opera?

She couldn't choose one above another.

They're all so…

So…

So witty.

Amusing. Delightful! Hilarious.

Exhilarating.

- Provocative? - Ooh.

- Complex. Dark. - Ooh.

Well said. Well said, Lady Shankley.

We like the Scarlatti.

I got chills, Nelly.

I'm telling you.

Come on.

Do you play, Lady Shankley?

All is not well, Nelly Jackson, and you need to get out of here.

Like an angel.

Perhaps after cards,

she can be persuaded to tickle your ivories, Lady Springbourne.

If only I hadn't broke my wrist.

- No. - Yes. Last season.

- But still, it is not yet quite right. - What a shame.

Make some excuses and leave.

Well, then, perhaps you can be persuaded to sing?

Go powder your nose.

You sing?

Like a nightingale.

His lordship flatters me too far, Mrs. Oakum.

You'd be better entertained by his soliloquy from Hamlet.

I adore the Bard.

We shall look forward to it after cards.

Don't see you making tracks.

It's a rotten time to be traveling up to London, Shankley.

Have you heard the latest?

The, the roads get more and more dangerous every day in this latest.

A highwaywoman.

Unnatural creature.

The same fiend that murdered that poor fellow in Tottenham.

- No! - So they say.

She's said to be armed and extremely dangerous

and isn't to be approached at any cost.

Apparently, too, she is so hideous to behold

that merely looking into her eyes will turn the hardest fellow

into a quivering jelly

and make him vomit.

Just run.

Can I ask you a question, Lord Springbourne?

You must be the local magistrate around here.

Yes. Yes, I am. Yes.

If this unnatural creature, this Nell Jackson,

wasn't guilty of what they're saying she's guilty of, just if,

how might you go about proving that to anybody?

I'm sorry. You'll have to repeat that. I didn't quite take it in.

That's her!

This could have been avoided.

Don't move.

You murdered my father.

You're something special, you are, ain't you?

Right?

You liar.

Oo-er missus.

Psst!

Nelly. Nelly!

Wake up! Wake up!

Lady Shankley, shall we?

After them.

Poynton?

- Rasselas! - Rasselas!

Some men came this way with Lady Sofia.

- I know, I know, they went in there, but... - Get in the carriage!

Get in the carriage, now!

No, Dev, you take the horse!

Hey!

- Let's split them up. - What did you say?

Hyah! Hyah!

Take the carriage! I'll take him!

Where's Devereux?

Tosser. He's saving his own skin.

- Hyah! Hyah! - Nelly!

Yeah.

Hyah! Hyah!

Hyah! Hyah!

Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!

Move, move! Hyah!

Take it.

What are you doing?

Come on.

George.

- Where are we going? - Don't know.

- Anywhere. - Nell!

Nelly! Nelly! Nelly! George's been shot!

What?

Hyah! Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!

- You say? - See…

Mr. Dawson's hanky is at the card table, the blue one.

Another time, I'm sure.

Where's Nell Jackson?

My men are still in pursuit.

But we got her accomplice.

- Do you know him? - Yes.

Isambard Tulley.

Hyah!

All this rocking about is upsetting her.

We need as much distance between us and them as we can get.

Am I gonna die?

No.

Nelly.

Why have we stopped?

You might wanna see this.

It's a plague village.

Yeah.

Look at this.

It's just all rotted,

just where it was left.

Do you think we're the first people

who's ever been here, since…

Let's get George inside.

And we'll see if there's any fresh water down that well.

Here, it's brandy.

From a fishing fellow.

It's good. I had a nip.

What do you want me to do with this?

- Boil it. - And then what?

Then…

We're gonna scrub this table clean.

We're gonna lift her onto it, and then I'm gonna get that bullet out.

- How? - I've seen it done.

- Yeah. How? - Have a nip of this, littlun. Go on.

That's it.

- I don't like it. - I know.

But it will take the pain off.

- Not all of it. - It will help.

She needs a proper surgeon.

She needs someone who knows what they're doing.

- I know what I'm doing. - You don't know nothing!

You're the big noodle that got us into this fix.

Yeah? Well, I'm the big noo...

noodle that's gonna get us out of it.

This ain't no good for George, all this shouting.

I'm all right. Thanks, Mr. Rasselas.

Yeah. I've told you before.

Seen more bullet wounds than you've had hot dinners.

Yeah, but you ain't fixed them.

I have. I've helped.

Well, I've observed.

Look, this is nothing.

Well, now I know it don't feel like nothing to you, George,

but, seriously, there ain't no vital organs up there.

All your kidneys, lungs, livers, bowels, soul, and such.

Much farther south. It's just muscle and sinew.

It's just a case of jiggling the thing out…

and letting it heal.

Yeah?

I'm starving.

At last.

Two intelligent men.

Would you like to step this way?

- Yes, thing is... - Have you gathered your belongings?

I'm not, now…

Yes. Thank you.

Not that we'll be long.

It's just they're all a little light-fingered in there.

- So, do mind your step, sir. - Let me out! Let me out!

Where are we going?

Just popping across the road.

Just five minutes with the magistrate.

Just a nice little arraignment.

So, so that's the thing.

- You see, I'm not Isambard Tulley. - I see.

Yes, I am a gentleman.

This is all very unfortunate, inconvenient and unnecessary.

"On August the 15th, 1703, on Hounslow Heath,