Capturing Sir Dunnicliffe (The Star Elite Series) (21 page)

After several moments, she yawned widely and snuggled back down under the blankets. Closing her eyes, she tried to blank out her wayward thoughts as they immediately reminded her that she hadn’t heard from Hugo. When she began to wonder where he was, she sighed, turned over and blocked out
the mental image of him that swam before her.

It was then that she became aware of a scratching noise coming from the window directly beside her. It was almost as though someone was drawing
nails down the glass. The high-pitched squeak was loud in the still night air, and was interspersed with faint scratching.

At first she wondered if it was a mouse, but it was a very noisy mouse. Even rats didn’t make that much noise, she reminded herself, carefully easing out of bed. The fire had died down while she had been asleep, allowing the chill of the cool night air to permeate the bedroom. Shivering as cold began to snatch the warmth from her body, she tugged a shawl around her shoulders and, as Hugo had done many times at the kitchen shutters, tried to find a gap in the bedroom shutters to peer through. The solid wood was enough to protect her from prying eyes outside, but gave her the perfect opportunity to see if anyone was out there.

Her hand flew to her face as her heart pounded heavily in her ears. There, mere inches from her face, was a cloaked figure dressed entirely in black, scratching away at the window frame. That was the noise that had woken her.

Slowly backing away from the window, she gathered her clothes and moved to the darkest corner of the room to dress, all the while wondering how she could get help. W
eren’t any of the Star Elite out there, keeping watch on her cottage as they had said they would? If they were out there, why weren’t they attempting to stop the person gaining entrance? Because of the darkness, and the cloak the person was wearing, she could see very little of their face, but surely none of the Star Elite would try to gain access to her house in such a way, would they?

She immediately thought of Rupert, and his
sudden appearance the previous morning. She had been certain he hadn’t been in the cottage – for some odd reason, he had decided to climb through the window, rather than use the door. Was it Rupert trying to gain access again?

If so, why?

What was he after?

A small voice warned her that none of the Star Elite would want to scare her in such a way, and may already have been diverted by events elsewhere
that she wasn’t aware of.

That meant she was on her own.

She fought to quell her panic. The memory of being held down while cruel fingers tried to strangle the life out of her rose to the fore, bringing with it all the fear and horror she had felt at the time. Was the same person returning to finish what they had started?

She didn’t know
, but she couldn’t wait for them to gain entrance. She couldn’t simply sit there and do nothing. Unfortunately she had no idea where Hugo or any of the Star Elite were. They could be at the Manor, or they could be out and about investigating the spy smugglers. That left only one person she could turn to – Simon.

Silently making her way to the kitchen, she pulled the box off the dresser and lifted the lid. The weight of the gun was strangely reassuring in her hand as she tested its weight for a moment. She wasn’t sure she could use it, but if
not using it meant the person outside killing her, then she would be left with no choice. Although touching the cold metal made her shudder with distaste, she tucked it in the depths of her cloak, carefully making her way back into her bedroom. Sure enough, the scratching continued; unless she was mistaken, it was louder than before. Were they close to breaking through? To know for certain, she would need to fold back the shutters, and she had no intention of doing that.

Satisfied that the intruder was busy, she quickly moved through the cottage to the back door. Her heart hammered in her ears as she slowly slid the bolt back and lifted the metal latch
. The door opened as little as possible; only enough to allow her to squeeze through. With the gun held tightly in one sweaty palm, she slowly dropped the latch and studied the garden. If the person was at the front of the cottage trying to gain access to her bedroom, she would be safer heading to the left of the garden. As long as she was quiet, she could disappear through the hedge and make her way to the Manor, and Simon, without being seen.

She felt sick as she broke away from the solid reassurance of the cottage and
, although she wasn’t a worshipper, sent a silent prayer that she would get through the night alive. She scurried across the garden. There was no way of knowing if she was making too much noise, and half expected the sound of running feet behind her. At the hedge she paused. A quick glance behind her, gun held in readiness, confirmed that nobody was following. There was enough moonlight to cast some shadow on the gardens around her, but they weren’t deep enough to hide anyone. She was alone, thankfully, and so far undetected.

Easing through a gap in the hedge without making it rustle too much was difficult
. She pushed her way through anyway, convinced that she would be heard and the intruder would give chase. Mentally plotting which way she needed to run to get to safety, she paused and waited but again. There was nothing except the heavy pounding of her heart.

Shaking her head
, she stuck to the hedgerow as Archie had done earlier, and began to walk as swiftly as she could toward the Manor, without breaking into a run. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. Everything within her screamed to run; take flight and not stop for anything or anyone. But she didn’t want to make a noise and alert the intruder that she was outside. At the moment, as far as she was aware, she had the advantage. She couldn’t afford to lose it. Failure would mean death and, despite her broken heart, she wasn’t ready to die just yet.

Lengthening her stride as much as she dared, she half-walked, half-ran toward the Manor, quickening her pace the further she got away from her home. She was oblivious to the cold night air stinging her cheeks, and almost dropped the gun when she realised she was still holding it tightly. How she didn’t shoot
herself, she would never know, and she carefully tucked the heavy object back in to her cloak out of the way.

Half an hour later,
the looming bulk of the Manor became visible through the trees. She had to pass through the woods to get there; something she hated the thought of. Maybe she had spent too much time with the Star Elite, but the trees provided someone with far too much shelter to hide and pose a danger to her. Still, she had no choice: if she wanted to get to the Manor, and safety, she had to go through them. She could only hope that one of the Star Elite was on watch in the trees, and would notice she was here.

Deliberately she had kept her hood down, so any of the Star Elite would know it was her. It was bad enough evading an unknown assailant, but
what she had seen of the men from the Star Elite in daytime had unnerved her, and she had no intention of coming across any of them in the middle of the night.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief when the looming bulk of the Manor appeared before her, and she quickened her pace in eagerness to get her ordeal over with now that her goal was in sight.
She considered knocking on the front door of the Manor, but the house was only partially lit. Her entrance would cause a rumpus and, undoubtedly, notify Romilla of her presence. The last thing she needed was to face her spiteful stepsister’s scorn tonight.

Should she just walk straight in?
Nearly everyone in the area, herself included prior to Hugo’s arrival, never bothered locking their doors. Most didn’t have anything worth stealing. Such was the community spirit that people didn’t feel the need to lock their possessions away. Harriett had no doubt the Manor’s doors would be unlocked, despite the risk of the spy smugglers and an attempted murderer: servants would be milling around practically constantly, both inside and outside of the house. Harriett could, tonight, walk straight in. Would anyone recognise her if she did? Or would her unannounced entrance in the kitchen also cause a kerfuffle that would wake the entire household?

Straightening her shoulders, she made her way to the rear of the house. On this occasion, Romilla had to be the least of her problems. While someone was prepared to try anything to take the life from her body, she could certainly handle Romilla’s spiteful put-downs. She had to. The alternative
s were to remain outside all night, or return to her cottage and the person trying to break in.

Easing open the door, she slipped into the warm kitchens of the Manor and almost wept with relief. She had never been inside, and didn’t know where she should go
. The faint glow beneath the door on the opposite side of the room drew her attention.

Carefully, she tip-toed across the kitchen. She should be shoutin
g out for anyone, but was loath to tell Romilla she was there, at least until she had found her father and explained to him what had happened. If only she could find him.

Easing open the door, she blinked several times, pausing while her eyes adjusted to the light. Tinkling laughter echoed from the far reaches of the house, making Harriett shudder with distaste. Ro
milla. She wondered if her stepsister was laughing with Simon, and fervently hoped not. It meant that she would either have to interrupt them, and explain her unannounced arrival to them both, or she would have to hide until Romilla went to bed and attempt to catch her father before he retired. A surge of unfamiliar jealousy swept through her at the thought of Romilla laughing with Simon.

It was all such a mess
that she began to wonder if she would have been better just taking her chances in her cottage.

She was about to turn around when a gentle cough in her ear made her gasp and spin around
in shock. Her wide eyes flew to the man standing directly behind her, and she sagged with relief when she recognised her father.

“Oh
, thank God,” she whispered, reaching out to him. Immediately, the warm reassurance of her father’s arms swept around her, steadying her rocking world. She took a moment to lean against his solid warmth and gather her shattered wits about her. The ready acceptance she found in his arms humbled her, and she began to wonder why she had spent so much of the past few years keeping a wary distance from him.

“I’m sorry,” she began, unsure where to start.
She wasn’t sure if she was apologising for appearing unannounced, or the awkwardness of the past.

“Come on, this way,
” Simon whispered, tugging her into a darkened corridor. They emerged in his office, where he sat her beside the fireplace before he poured her a brandy and pressed it into her hand.

“Drink this.
You look as though you need it,” he murmured softly, eyeing her pale and trembling features in concern. “When you have stopped trembling, you can tell me what has happened.” He wondered where the men from the Star Elite were, and how she had got to him without being escorted. Surely they hadn’t allowed her to wander over here by herself? He made a mental note to speak to Hugo about it as soon as possible.

He was starting to have doubts about Hugo, and his intentions, not only toward his daughter, but toward the whole investigation. His first impressions of the man had been of a solid, dependable fighter who was true to those he cared about and would fight to the death to protect the ones he loved. Now, he wasn’t so sure the man didn’t only want to feather his own nest with the best options available to him at the time. He could only feel sorry for Harriett, who had clearly been as fooled as he was, and was undoubtedly going to get hurt.
His thoughts turned to the couple in the sitting room at the front of the house and he made a pledge that Harriett should never witness what was going on.

“What happened?” h
e asked several moments later, rising to close the door when another round of laughter echoed through the room. Although Romilla’s screeching voice was loud and easy to hear, there was a deeper baritone underlying the noise that Simon hoped couldn’t be identified as Hugo’s. A quick glance at her as he shut the door confirmed she hadn’t picked up on Hugo’s tones.

First thing in the morning he was going to pack Romilla off to her relations, and get rid of Hugo while he was at it.
He didn’t care what Hugo wanted or needed for his investigation; his daughter was now going to take her rightful place at the Manor, and was going to remain there until the investigation was over and the Star Elite had gone home – or wherever they were scheduled to go when this was over.

Decision made
, he sat on the chair nearest to her and listened intently as she described what had driven her to leave the relative safety of her own home in the middle of the night. Although he was delighted she had turned to him in her hour of need, he was furious that none of the Star Elite had actively protected her as Hugo had promised they would. Where were they?

“You didn’t see, or hear, anyone?” He cursed when Harriett slowly shook her head.

“Look, tomorrow I am going to insist Romilla leaves. She should have gone by now anyway, and has run out of excuses as far as I am concerned. The only thing stopping her leaving is her, and I want her out of my home.” He didn’t mention that he would also be giving Hugo his marching orders.

“If you have finished your drink, I’ll show you up to the guest room beside mine. If
you need anything – anything at all - I will be right next door. Just shout and I can be there in a trice.” He rose and waited for Harriett to climb wearily to her feet before escorting her from the room. He hated the fact that they had to sneak up the back staircase like thieves in the night, to escort Harriett to her room without alerting Romilla to her presence. But from the paleness of Harriett’s face, and the trembling the brandy had done little to appease, the last thing she needed was a dose of Romilla’s malice.