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

“What was that?” Alice asked as she plonked herself down into a seat at the table. She placed her bag at her feet and rested her arms on the table-cloth while she waited for everyone to take up various positions about the room.

Charity’s small back room was cramped. So much so, she suggested everyone move into the much larger front parlour.

“Have you heard the news?” Augusta asked calmly, blatantly ignoring her.

Charity nodded. “Mrs Vernon has been found.”

“No, that’s not what we meant,” Alice replied.

“Has she? Where did she go?” Gertrude demanded.

Charity sighed. She looked at her friends and took a deep breath, then explained what she had learned from Angus and his friends.

“Good Lord,” Monika murmured.

“I meant that the Star Elite have gone,” Agatha thundered.

“She knows,” Monika snapped. “Angus will have told her he was going.” She looked askance at Charity, who nodded.

“They also still suspect the Lawrences and have gone to find them because they left the village at the same time that Mrs Vernon vanished,” Charity informed them. “Because they don’t know who has killed her right now, it is safest for all of us not to discuss what has happened with anybody. I don’t think word has gone around yet that Mrs Vernon is dead. It is best if none of us breaks the news, just in case the killer is still here, or decides to come back.”

Everyone murmured their agreement.

“Where is Angus?” Augusta asked, patting the back of Charity’s hand.

“He has gone to help find them. Mr Horvat left as well, but I don’t know if he went in the same direction as the Lawrences. Whatever happens, Angus will be back, it will just take time.” Charity just wished she could feel as confident about that as she had sounded.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Two weeks later, Charity stepped down off the post chaise and looked around the bustling coaching yard. It was the very last place she wanted to be but needed to get away from her life for a little

while. A nice overnight stay in Cragmire would be just the ticket. Or would have been, if it weren’t for the acute sense of loneliness that had settled over her during her journey and refused to budge.

While the ladies had been wonderful since the moment Angus had walked out of her kitchen, their concern had become somewhat claustrophobic, and repetitive. Charity knew their hearts were in the right place, and still sought refuge in their enthusiastic reassurances whenever she was at her lowest, but there was only so many times she could hear the phrase: ‘He will be back, I am sure of it’, before she quietly went out of her mind.

She needed a break, from her life, her friends, and the cold and empty silence of her home. For some odd reason she couldn’t quite understand, Charity felt as though she was waiting for something to happen, and it wasn’t just Angus coming back to her. She felt restless, on edge; unable to settle. Over the course of the last several days, a strange sense of doom had slowly crept over her. It was most distracting, and disturbing because she had no idea what caused it.

“Well, hopefully a little bit of shopping will help,” she murmured as she crossed the coaching yard and made her way out onto the street.

Unfortunately, Charity had little interest in the shops she needed to visit, or which tavern could provide the most luxurious room to suit her budget. In fact, the only thing that appealed to her was going home.

Was Angus in the town somewhere? Was he keeping watch nearby? She wished she knew. The knowledge that she didn’t made her even more miserable.

Half an hour later, with her purchases tucked into her basket, Charity turned to leave the dress-maker’s shop. She reached out to open the door only for her gaze to be captured by the sight of a familiar figure ambling down the pavement across the road.

Her mouth fell open.

To her disbelief, ‘old’ Mr Lawrence no longer shuffled. He walked with a long, arrogant stride that accompanied the sneer on his weathered features. To add to Charity’s astonishment, Mr Lawrence’s hunched back had also straightened considerably.

“You fiend,” Charity whispered when she realised the Star Elite had been right to suspect Mr Lawrence. Indeed, the man she watched stalk down the road, a destination firmly in mind given the surety of his step, had fooled them all.

“He is nothing but a fraudster,” she added, her anger and disgust rising.

“Is everything all right?” the dressmaker asked.

Charity jerked and looked at her blankly. “Yes, fine, thank you,” she murmured.

Yanking the door open, Charity stepped outside. Her gaze immediately searched for, and found, Mr Lawrence’s rapidly retreating back. Without hesitation, she began to follow him.