Runaway (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 4)

“Oh, please let me pay you,” Molly offered.

She fumbled around in her pocket, mentally praying that she had enough money to cover the cost while at the same time trying not to panic about whether she would have enough money to purchase food once she had paid for two tickets.

“No. No. I won’t hear of it. He was determined to leave but assured me that he wasn’t running away. Your aunt is going to be annoyed, I must say,” Mr Bakerson added.

“I don’t care. We don’t belong there,” Molly protested.

“No, I didn’t think so either. That Edith is a right one, I don’t mind telling you, and she has a nasty reputation around these parts,” Mr Bakerson assured her. “She will report Oscar missing, I don’t doubt, if only to set the magistrate on you.”

“Please don’t tell her, or Denzel for that matter. I am not under her guardianship. I am not committing any crimes, so you won’t get into trouble. We have to go to Uncle Barry because it is just unconscionable for us to stay with Aunt Edith. She won’t arrange for us to go because she says it costs too much. We are miserable.” Molly winced and forced herself to settle down when loomed and her voice cracked.

“And you are sure that this – Uncle Barry – will be able to accommodate you, are you?” Mr Bakerson asked suspiciously.

Molly nodded but didn’t speak because she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him any more than she already had. Uncle Barry had died several months ago, but Mr Bakerson didn’t need to know that.

“I won’t say a word, not even if the magistrate asks,” Mr Bakerson assured her. “People around these parts won’t be at all surprised to learn that you have left that woman’s house, I can assure you.”

When Molly was sure she could speak clearly she asked: “Oscar definitely left on the last coach then?”

When Mr Bakerson nodded, Molly almost wept with relief.

Mr Bakerson looked thoughtful for a moment. “Are you sure you are not running away?”

“Mr Bakerson, I am two and twenty and am not under house arrest. I am at liberty to go wherever I please. Edith is just of the opinion that I am a member of staff rather than a relation, and objects to me going anywhere because the chores don’t get done if I am not there. Moreover, that awful boyfriend of hers will want me there because he likes to play lord and master. Meantime, my brother is heading off to London all by himself. He needs me. Edith doesn’t, it is as simple as that.”

Molly knew her voice was far sharper than it should be but refused to apologise for it. She was sick of having to explain herself to people. Besides, being forceful helped to quell her tears.

“I don’t care what my aunt has led people to believe, I am not a wayward nincompoop.” Molly tipped her chin up and gazed challengingly at him.

“I know, my dear,” Mr Bakerson replied quietly, his gaze as muted as the worried look he gave her. “We all know what your aunt is like.”

“Then you won’t mind not saying anything to her about us leaving, will you?” Molly replied. “Now, is there anywhere I can wait that is out of the way, and can I rely upon your discretion if Denzel arrives to fetch me back?”

“You can,” Mr Bakerson assured her. “I can show you somewhere you can wait where you will be undisturbed. As I a

m sure you are aware, the coach will only stay in the yard long enough for the horses to be changed, then it will be off again. It won’t be here for more than a few minutes at the most. You have to be quick getting on board or it will leave without you, ticket or not. So, stay in the barn out back. I will tell Mr Walgrave that you are going to wait there, and to make sure you get on it. If that Denzel fellow does ask about you, I shall tell him that I haven’t seen you. Keep yourself out of sight, mind. If he sees you, I shall have no part in arguing your cause.”

“Thank you,” Molly whispered fervently. For a moment, she almost cried but was distracted from doing so by Mr Bakerson, who waved her hurriedly into a small corridor next to the waiting room. Seconds later, she arrived at the side of the stable block, next to the barn.

“Wait here. I will go and have a word with Mr Walgrave and tell him you are here. The coach will be the next one in, so watch for it and make sure you get on board. I have given you a ticket for a seat inside,” Mr Bakerson informed her with a wink.

Molly gasped and stared down at the ticket in her hand.

“Thank you,” she breathed, a little awed that he would be so generous.

Mr Bakerson smiled at her. “Just stay out of sight. It isn’t right for a young lady such as yourself to be sitting up top getting cold and wet, now is it? Have a safe journey. I hope you find your brother.”

Molly nodded and once again found herself battling tears as she studied the coaching yard before her.

Stable hands raced this way and that as a new set of horses were prepared for the swift change that was to take place in a matter of minutes, just as soon as the coach arrived. Mr Walgrave, the ostler, yelled orders at his staff and passengers from all walks of life milled about helplessly while they waited to depart. It was frantic, noisy, chaotic, but no less worrying than the prospect of Denzel appearing to thwart her plans. It was difficult to know what she would do then. Her life, her survival, and that of Oscar’s, depended on her being able to escape.

When the coach did rumble into the coaching yard, Molly gathered her bag with white knuckled hands and braced herself. Rather than step toward it, she watched it start to swing in a wide arc in the centre of the square stable yard. Molly threw a desperate glance around the yard, and gasped when she saw Denzel in between the gates, scowling heavily as he studied everyone. She jerked back in horror when his gaze turned toward her. She had thought she was nervous moments earlier, but now knew what true fear felt like. Closing her eyes on a silent prayer that he hadn’t seen her, Molly tightened her grip on her bag and tried to quell her nerves. It took an age before she felt bold enough to risk another glance out into the yard. When she did, she saw Denzel again, this time talking to one of the stable lads. Without even glancing in her direction, the young lad pointed to the inn. Seconds later, Denzel disappeared inside. When he had gone, the young lad returned to his chores, completely oblivious to the impact his casual actions had had on Molly.

Molly, wasting not a moment of the opportunity before her, hurried across the narrow space to the coach. She scurried around it just as soon as it had rumbled to a stop.

“Get her on,” the Ostler yelled to the coachman who jumped down. He lifted his brows and hesitated for a moment before, with a scowl, he handed Molly into the darkened interior of the coach.

Molly, too terrified to do anything but huddle into the darkest corner of the coach, tugged the hood of her cloak up to cover her face. She nervously smiled her thanks at the Ostler who nodded once at her, very, very, slowly. Their eye contact was then broken by the embarkment of the other passengers who, well aware that the coach wouldn’t linger, quickly scrambled aboard. At the front of the carriage, the horses had already been changed and the fresh horses were in the process of being harnessed.