“I think it would do him good to be ignored for a while. He is going to revel in withholding information he knows we need. If we ignore him, he will realise we have no interest in him and may demand to talk,” Oliver suggested. “I know it is a tactic Sir Hugo uses. There is nothing men like Smidgley like more than being able to claim they have the upper hand. He will try to prove he is undefeated by not telling us what we want to know. So let’s not bother to ask him anymore. Leave him in that gaol to rot. There is nobody he can complain to, nobody for him to gloat to, or threaten, or try to bully into giving him what he wants. He has to be ignored and left to stew. It shouldn’t be long before he demands something from us. Then we can barter.”
Emmeline, who had been listening to the men’s conversation, pursed her lips because it was a very clever tactic. It was good to know that while everything had settled down, the men were still diligently working on trying to catch the people responsible behind the kidnap of several young women, some of who had now turned up dead. Thankfully, since the last unfortunate young soul had been left on the door of the old safe house, no other bodies had appeared. But that might be because Smidgley didn’t know where to leave his victims.
“Smidgley is making his presence known and has started to widen his search to other villages. I swear to God he knows his brother is around here somewhere,” Rhys grinned.
“He is around here. He is in the county gaol. Rupert can go and see him if he likes, but it will be a one-way ticket,” Harry murmured with a nod.
“The uncle has turned up,” Niall growled. “He arrived early this morning, straight from London, the coachman said. I overheard him moaning to the stable-hand that the damned boss had forced him to drive as fast as he could all night, and risk getting everyone killed.”
“Sounds like Smidgley,” Harry snorted.
“Sounds like Sir Hugo is ruffling feathers. Maybe the uncle who is fresh from London, heard something that damages Smidgley and raced up here to tell his nephews,” Oliver mused with no small amount of relish. “Let’s hope so, eh?”
“Well, he is at Smidgley Hall for the time being.”
“Maybe Rupert sent word to him that Ernest had vanished, so the dearest uncle came up here to try to throw his weight around,” Rhys suggested.
“Maybe,” Oliver nodded. “I don’t care why the uncle is here. The fact that he has turned up makes him as guilty as Hell.”
Niall began to pile his plate high with something off each plate and then settled back to eat. He had never been involved in an investigation for the Star Elite before that had provided him with such wonderful meals. Practically every time he came through the door, something freshly baked was on the table. It was wonderful, although his waist hated him.
“Brian Smidgley. Uncle Brian. Four and Thirty. Same height as Rhys. Has a reputation for being a bully who likes to gamble,” Oliver announced.
“The apple doesn’t fall from the tree with any of them. They all have reputations for being bullies, and all like to gamble,” Harry added.
“Until we can get Ernest to talk, we don’t stand a chance in Hell of finding the women who are still missing.” Harry shook his head in disgust.
“For now, we are safe and out of sight. We must keep it that way as long as possible, gentlemen. For now, keep watch on that uncle as well but make sure nobody follows you back here. Given they are widening the search, it is safe to say that they will happen by here at some point soon, so stay armed and keep an eye out. For now, we leave Smidgley to stew for a bit longer. Those thugs of his don’t know much either but they aren’t likely to.” Oliver watched Emmeline gather the wash basket and disappear out of the back door. Without saying another word to his colleagues, he stood and went to follow her only for Harry to stop him.
“I am off to go and speak with the gaoler to tell him that Smidgley is to be ignored from now on. It would help if our dear Ernest is told that he is no longer needed or relevant before he is left to stew. Then I will go and check on Emmeline’s house to make sure nobody has broken in while she has been away,” Harry offered.
Oliver nodded his thanks.
“I am off as well. It is our turn for watch,” Rhys said, kicking Niall into action beneath the table.
Niall winced and hastily shoved some pie into his mouth as he stood and grabbed his cloak. “Back later,” he mumbled, snatching an apple before Rhys propelled him out of the door.
Rhys, teasing him about his appetite, slammed the kitchen door behind them. While his colle
agues went about the rest of their day, Oliver went after Emmeline. Once outside, he paused and watched her pegging out the washing. Even this simple task was a hint of what the future might have in store for them should they be brave enough to take a chance on being together. More and more of late, it was becoming impossible to be apart from her for any length of time. Whenever Oliver did go anywhere his thoughts were practically overwhelmed with Emmeline. He worried if she was safe, what she was doing, whether she was working too much, getting enough rest, eating properly. It was starting to drive him mad. He didn’t relax again until he returned to her and was able to see for himself that she was fine. Moreover, the more time he spent with her the more impossible it was becoming to keep his hands to himself. Like now. The more time he spent watching her carrying out this everyday chore, the more he wanted to close the distance between them.
“Each time I am with her I end up kissing her,” he murmured beneath his breath. “It isn’t the wisest thing to do seeing as we could have to move on any day now. How can I know if I love her?”
Oliver didn’t know. He had no idea what love was, what it felt like, or what he should do to recognise it. It was an emotion other people felt. In his line of work, in his life, there had never been much room for sentiment. His parents were still around, and of course he loved them and went to see them as often as he could, but that was a different kind of love to the one he needed to acknowledge to be able to decide if he should spend his life with Emmeline. What that forever after kind of love felt like, though, was beyond him. He didn’t even know where to start. Yes, he desired her. More and more each day. In fact, it was becoming increasingly impossible to keep his hands to himself. Yes, he wanted her to be safe and happy. Her welfare was of paramount importance, more so each day. Yes, he was eager to see her, not least because he could have a normal conversation with her about mundane things that didn’t involve death, operation planning, or keeping tabs on criminals. In fact, he quite liked being able to help her around the house whenever he could. But there was more to a relationship than that, wasn’t there?
With one last, careful look at her, Oliver forced himself to turn around and head in the opposite direction. Quietly letting himself back into the house, he gathered the things he would need and made his way out to the stable block. His frown was thoughtful when he made his way into the barn moments later. In the doorway, he paused and glanced around the huge space and at the horses tethered within. There was nothing he needed to do, but he forced himself to go inside anyway, not least because if he didn’t then he was going to find his way back to the garden where he would undoubtedly end up kissing Emmeline again.
Emmeline hummed as she pegged the last of the washing on the line. It billowed gently in the breeze that swirled lazily around the garden. When she looked up at the long line of clothing, movement in the driveway captured her attention. For a moment, she wondered if the men were returning for some reason. She tensed because she knew the only reason they would return would be because something had gone terribly wrong. The more she studied the visitors, the more she realised that the group of four men riding swiftly down the driveway had nothing to do with the Star Elite.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
Lifting her skirt, Emmeline jumped over the basket and raced into the house. “Oliver! Oliver!”
Oliver frowned when he heard her calling. He paused and dropped the hoof pick he was using when she barrelled out of the house and charged across the yard at him.
“What is it?”
“It’s them. Smidgley. They are coming down the drive,” she panted. “What do we do?”