Cold Comfort (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 5)

To her disbelief, Harry grinned unrepentantly at her. She glared at him in disgust until she was distracted by a particularly loud thump of flesh meeting brushed flesh. Emmeline whirled around in time to watch Oliver slam another punch into the hapless thug’s jaw. She cringed when Oliver began to rain brutal blows down upon his opponent’s head with a ferocity that was staggering, even though the thug was on his knees, cowering in pain and misery.

“Stop. For the love of God, stop.” Emmeline gasped when the thug suddenly growled and surged to his feet. He shoved at Oliver and landed not one, but three punches into Oliver’s midriff, making Oliver curse with pain. Emmeline glared at Harry again, but he was busy beckoning to Rhys and wasn’t even watching what was happening.

Muttering in disgust, Emmeline tugged open the cupboard at the bottom of the dresser beside the back door and removed a new weapon. Eyeing the men in total disbelief, she hefted her weapon and, when the thug stumbled toward her, with all her might slammed her weapon into the side of the thug’s head and waited. She met the thug’s blurred glare warily and watched him blink at her. Once. Twice. He didn’t speak, or even grunt. He blinked once more before he stumbled sideways. He regained his balance and frowned at her, as if considering whether he should lunge for her again. Determined to stop him, Emmeline brought her weapon down on his head once more. She winced when it boinged loudly in the stunned silence of the room. The thug slowly dropped to his knees. He wavered backward and forward for a moment, as if trying to decide which way to fall before, with his arms hanging limply by his sides, he slumped forward and landed face-first on the floor. The dull crunching noise of what she suspected his nose breaking was enough to make her wince, but she didn’t bother to glance at him again. Instead, she looked across the room at a bloodied Oliver, who looked as if he had just fought a war single-handedly.

“I hope your opponent came off worse,” she snapped, thoroughly disgusted when he merely smirked goofily at her.

“You really do swing that thing,” Oliver murmured through his swollen lip. He nodded to the heavy iron skillet in her hand and threw her an admiring look.

“What on earth happened to you?” she demanded.

“I got accosted by the same ba – people – who keeps kidnapping women around these parts,” Oliver replied honestly.

He didn’t even glance at Harry and Rhys when they stepped into the room. He knew from the concerned looks on their faces that they had just heard what was being said.

“Have you ever heard of a fop called Smidgley?” Oliver asked Emmeline.

Emmeline frowned at him. “From Smidgley Hall? Everyone in these parts has heard of them. They are reviled by everyone. They are arrogant, rude, and have a reputation for treating the villagers badly. They are so bad their tenant farmers have all moved out and they cannot get anybody to work for them. I hear their house is only partially staff and that the staff they do have come from other counties.”

“So nobody around these parts likes them,” Rhys murmured.

“When? How? Why?” Harry asked of Oliver.

“Firstly, did you deal with the carriage driver?” Oliver asked.

Harry nodded and adopted an air of supreme satisfaction. “We did. He is trussed up tighter than a goose at Christmas.”

“Good. Get him tied up as well,” Oliver growled with a nod to the thug at their feet. He turned to Emmeline. “You did well but remind me not to leave any skillet’s around.”

Emmeline rolled her eyes but couldn’t remove her gaze from the bruising around Oliver’s face. His eye had already started to swell shut and his lip was twice its normal size. His cuts looked painful.

“They are brutal,” she whispered, unsure if she meant his wounds or the people who had caused his injuries.

“I will heal,” he assured her softly. “What I need you to do, as a matter of urgency, is pack your things. You need to take enough to be away for several weeks, if not more. We have to get you out of here.”

“It is me they want now, isn’t it?” It wasn’t a question Emmeline wanted any of them to answer, not least because she didn’t want them to confirm how much danger she was in. It was necessary, though, to be open and honest about the situation they were in. That way, very few secrets could bring very few nasty surprises.

“A direct threat has been made against you to me this morning, yes. But they don’t want to kidnap you in the same way they kidnapped Caroline and the rest of those women,” Oliver informed them. His gaze turned knowingly to his colleagues.

“How do they want to kidnap me then?” Emmeline asked innocently. “I mean, why?”

“They want to use you as collateral; as a bargaining tool,” Oliver said bluntly.

“We are getting close then,” Rhys muttered thoughtfully.

“They snatched me off the street with such swift silence that even I am stunned by it. I didn’t stand a chance of muttering a squeak, and I am the same size as them,” Oliver growled. He rubbed the back of his neck, and knew he would, at some point, tell his colleagues exactly how the kidnappers had kidnapped him so effectively, and in minute detail as well. But for now, it was imperative they got Emmeline out of sight, and to the safe house before the Smidgley brothers arrived to fetch her themselves.

“We only have a few minutes. If the carriage doesn’t return with her sharp enough, they are likely to come and look for her. Hurry up and fetch your things, please,” Oliver murmured to Emmeline.

It was that small display of manners in Oliver’s use of the word ‘please’ that made Emmeline’s feet move. It was enough of a reminder that she should put her trust in someone. That ‘please’ gave

her choices, even though Oliver’s request was couched in firm tones that left her no room for argument. In that moment, Emmeline knew she had been right to trust him. Oliver was a trustworthy gentleman who would do his best to keep everyone alive. With that knowledge tucked firmly in the back of her mind, Emmeline savoured a moment of relief at knowing the true reason why Oliver had been prevented from returning to her, and then dutifully raced up the stairs.

“What do you want to do with him, boss?” Rhys asked once Emmeline had gone upstairs.

“Do you know something? I should like nothing more than to beat him to a pulp and dump him on their doorstep, as a warning from us to them that we aren’t going to be bullied or thwarted by fops. They do, after all, like to accost people. However, that would make us no better than them. I do, however, think we have to make this pair vanish. If they disappear, Smidgley has no idea where they have gone, or what they are telling us. That puts Smidgley even more on edge and gives us a very credible advantage.” Oliver rolled his sleeves up and began to rummage around in the kitchen drawers in search of something he could use to tie the thug up with.

“What do you want to do about the carriage?” Harry asked.