A Spinster's Awakening (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 2)

“You are sticking your nose into my job. Do you realise how dangerous that is? Why don’t you believe that you could be snatched just as easily as those other young women were?” Angus shouted.

“I wasn’t out there alone,” Charity replied, her voice clipped. “I went with Monika.”

“Oh, that’s all right then. I am sure if she ran into the same man who accosted me the other night she will fair much better because she is a female. I am sure the blackguard will pull his punches, and maybe not conch her over the head so hard,” he snarled sarcastically.

Charity blanched and blinked away hot salty tears. “Why are you being so mean?” she whispered tearfully.

Angus hardened his heart against the sight of her distress and hid behind his temper. “I am trying to keep you safe,” he bellowed.

“By leaving!” Charity shouted back. “That’s really keeping me safe, isn’t it? First you go parading around the village with me, making it clear that we have an acquaintance. You make yourself know to the assailant and then just up sticks and leave without even a ‘thank you for letting me use your house’.”

“I am still here,” Angus yelled. “We are not done yet. We are still working on an ongoing investigation. Why can’t you just accept that we know a bit more about the work we do than you?”

“I do,” Charity retorted.

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to bloody well accept that I might have a bit more knowledge about the dangers in this case than you? Why will you not do as you are told? Do you really want to get yourself kidnapped?” Again, his voice rose with the force of his frustration.

“Of course, I don’t. What kind of stupid question is that?” Charity scoffed.

“Well, you seem to think you are an authority in everything, Charity, including the Star Elite’s investigation. You seem to think you know what we are doing, why we are doing it, and that you have some sort of exclusion from being hurt, or snatched,” Angus shouted.

“No, I do not. I just do not see why I should curb my life. Nothing has happened to me thus far. The ladies are just down the street, everyone watches me because they know I live alone and have done for years. You don’t understand Angus. I was one and twenty when my father passed away and left me all alone in this house. He has left me with a stipend, but I still have to live my life alone. The villagers know that I have had to fend for myself and while they couldn’t provide me with a roof over my head, they all have kept watch over me over the years. Mr Mainworthy, the local farmer, always makes sure my wood store is loaded in the winter. Mrs Pickering always asks if I need anything from town whenever she goes in, and I reciprocate. I have the ladies, who are always checking on me every day.”

Angus was already shaking his head. “Can I remind you that Mrs Vernon lives right next door,” he hissed. His voice when he next spoke was so loud that it echoed around the cold and empty house. “Where in the Hell is she?”

Charity tipped her chin up in defiance but could do nothing about the wobble in her voice when she spoke. “That’s your job to find out. You are the Star Elite, aren’t you? It strikes me that you are spending a lot of time sitting about watching people, but I don’t see you searching those woods, or going anywhere near Mr Horvat’s house, or checking up on Mr Lawrence’s cousin, who is still living in the house by the way. You seem more inclined to want to tell me what to do all the time.”

“Does it not occur to you that I might care?” he countered.

“You don’t,” Charity argued. “You left without even saying ‘goodbye’. You are only here because of your job, you have told me enough times. It is important that you protect your reputation. That is why you are here. That is why you keep telling me what to do and warning me to stay safe. It would look bad if the woman whose house you have used disappears as well, wouldn’t it?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What do you expect from me? Am I to put my feet up in front of the fire and let you wander off at all times of the day and night to stupidly challenge the man who accosted me, aware that you are likely to get your head smashed off your shoulders? What am I supposed to do, merely shrug when you go missing and hope that one day your bones will be found? Tell me, Charity, what am I supposed to do?”

Angus suspected at some point during their confrontation they had strayed from an argument between investigator and inquisitive member of the public, to a considerably more personal disagreement between one very confused man and one shockingly headstrong young woman.

Angus sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His professionalism was long gone, and he knew it. He couldn’t get his temper to ease off long enough for his emotions to settle down whenever he was around Charity, so couldn’t think logically anymore. He was so angry with her, so frightened for her wellbeing, that he was coldly furious, with her, with himself, with the kidnapper, with the whole damned Star Elite for putting him in this mess in the first place.

The only thing he could do was lean toward her until they were almost nose-to-nose.

“Do you not think that if I was only here to do my job I would have stepped away from this house and spent my time in the village out there?” he pointed to the window. “And let one of my friends take over in this house so I could keep my distance, and leave you and your loopy friends to risk your own stupid backsides?”

Charity blinked. “You left this morning,” she whispered.

“Because we have got to try to find Mrs Vernon. We cannot do that from here, can we? Does it not concern you that someone might have killed her in her own home? Does it not worry you that she might be out in those woods somewhere? Does it not occur to you that maybe, just maybe, you do not see the work we do because that is the way we work and manage to stay alive?” Again, Angus knew he was shouting but couldn’t find the strength to stop.

“You will stay out of my investigation. I swear to God, Charity, if you ever do anything else, ever, that puts you in the middle of my job, I will put you behind bars and sit on the key until the kidnapper is found and is no longer a threat to anybody. Do you understand me?” he hissed, his voice so low, cold and hard that Charity had no doubt he meant every word.

Despite his fury, Angus’s gaze dropped to her lips. The tension in the house suddenly thickened, but it had nothing to do with their distress. It was purely driven by a raw need neither of them dared acknowledge. Without saying a word, Angus bit out a blistering epithet and slammed out of the house.

Once she was alone, Charity slumped against the table. She pressed a fist to her lips to try to control her wail of misery. Tears streamed down her face unchecked. Now that she was alone there was no need to stem them. With each one that dripped off her cheek, a little part of her seeped away. Maybe it was the part that was full of girlish dreams, hopes, and wishes for the future – a life of domestic bliss with a handsome, roguish, strong and capable man like Angus. Drip by steady drip, each day she had envisaged she might have shared with Angus, and the happiness it would have brought her, came crashing down and vanished into nothing.

She knew then that when his work was done, his anger would force him to leave the village. He wouldn’t come back. Not now he had made his distaste for her ‘loopy’ friends known. Angus was biding his time, doing his job, getting annoyed that their paths kept crossing. She was starting to suspect that his determination to get her to stay away from his investigation was more to keep her away from him because he didn’t want to be attracted to her the way he was.

She had little doubt now that the closeness they had shared had happened purely because they had been two people, alone, in a tense situation. There was no other explanation for

it. Angus was certainly not the kind of person who would settle into her life, and she simply couldn’t contemplate sharing his world. He didn’t want her in it – it was as simple as that.

Quietly, Charity slid a chair out and slumped into it. Wrapping her arms tightly around her stomach, Charity succumbed to a kind of grief that felt frightfully like the devastation she had experienced when her father had died, and she had realised she had to spend the future alone. The misery of it, the fear, the solitude, the stark barrenness of the life that awaited her settled its heavy cloak over her shoulders and brought with it a misery that was suffocating.