Fallen Hero (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 3)

“How long will you be back for?” she asked without preamble.

“I am going out again now, but will be back in a week or so. When I do return, I will be bringing somebody with me. Maybe it would be an idea to make up one of the spare bed chambers. The green room, I think,” Aaron murmured.

He hurried into his study again, sat down at his desk, and yanked the papers back out of the saddle bag. He studied the envelopes but none of the handwriting looked familiar. As far as he could tell, none of the notes had been written by Thomas.

“Maybe she was wrong?” Aaron grumbled.

Even so, he started to yank envelopes open and briefly read each missive inside.

“I’ll be off then,” Mrs Ablemire muttered from the door several hours later. “I will be back tomorrow.”

“I shan’t be here then,” Aaron replied. “I am going back to the group. I will see you again in a couple of weeks. Don’t forget the bed chamber.”

“Aye, it’s done already,” Mrs Ablemire replied. “I’ll see you then.”

“Mrs Ablemire? Are you sure Thomas didn’t leave me anything other than a note? Did he go upstairs at all? Or leave a message for you to give me?” Aaron asked before the woman disappeared.

“No, sir. I would have written it down if he had,” Mrs Ablemire replied. “Is there a problem?”

“No. Thank you, Mrs Ablemire,” Aaron said blankly.

He didn’t question her further because his housekeeper was, and had always been, extremely reliable. She had never failed him yet. If she said Thomas hadn’t left a verbal message then he hadn’t left a verbal message.

Aaron continued to rummage through the notes until he realised he was going to lose the light soon if he didn’t leave. With only half of the contents of his saddle bags opened, Aaron quickly shoved everything back into the pouches and tied the laces.

“I will have to go through this at Elspeth’s house,” he whispered.

Eager to get back to her, he launched out of his seat and hurried to the door.

He didn’t notice anything was amiss until he saw Mrs Ablemire’s back disappearing into the trees along the narrow path that would take her back to her house. While the housekeeper had gone, Aaron knew immediately that he was not alone in the house.

He barely had the time to turn around to see what was behind him before he was jumped on. Hard hands settled around his neck and immediately began to squeeze tight. Aaron opened his mouth to gasp a breath, but the hands were too strong. He tugged on the forearms, his fingers digging painfully deep into the muscled flesh of his attacker. When that didn’t secure his release, Aaron grabbed the arm, planted one booted foot in front of the other, and hauled the man forward, up and over his shoulder.

Slamming the oaf down onto his back on the floor before him was the most satisfying thing Aaron had done. The man lay winded for a moment, but hurriedly tried to scramble to his feet. Aaron, though, was already braced. Backing sideways away from the door, just in case the intruder was not alone, Aaron kicked the assailant in the head. Once. Twice. He kicked until the man had to curl into a tight ball with his arms protectively over his head or die.

“Get up,” Aaron commanded. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

When the man didn’t move, Aaron dropped his saddle bag beside the dresser and hauled the man’s arm away from his face. He knew immediately who it was. It wasn’t Rollo Voss, but a younger, fitter, leaner version of the man.

“You are a Voss,” Aaron bit out. “What do you want?”

The man still didn’t answer. Suddenly, just as Aaron was standing upright, the intruder on the floor launched to his feet, but only so he could grab a chair from the kitchen table and swing it wildly at Aaron.

Aaron dodged out of the way. Given the frustration, anger, pain and sheer emotional turmoil he had faced over the last several days, Aaron relished the opportunity to let off a bit of steam. He smirked at his opponent who eyed the door with a growing sense of unease.

“Well? Am I to know why you have chosen to break into my house?”

“Give us the cash,” the man ordered coldly.

“What cash?”

“The cash you took out of the bank. Three thousand pounds of it, I think,” the man replied.

“Ah, so that is why your father is trying to break into the Lincoln property,” Aaron murmured. “You fool. No sane person would leave three thousand pounds lying around. What? Did you think I had it? Is that why you think I am here?”

The man eyed Aaron’s saddlebags, then the distance to the door. Aaron knew what the man was going to do even before he made a grab for the bag and darted for the nearest way out of the house. Aaron, having pre-empted the man’s flight, kicked him soundly in the ribs before landing a volley of punches on the unsuspecting thief that left the man collapsed against the dresser, gasping for breath.

The man, with three thousand pounds in the offering, was not prepared to give up his supposed prize without a fight. With a smirk, he wiped a trickle of blood off his cheek, ducked low and charged at Aaron with a bullish roar that was nothing short of wild.