To Have A Heart (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 7)

I forget when I last had a proper conversation with anybody except Jemima, and even those few brief words couldn’t be classed as a real chat.

“I need to get out of here,” she announced suddenly.

For a moment, Mallory completely forgot about where she was and that she had just announced that in front of the stranger.

He probably will go inside and tell them what I have said.

“Stay strong,” the man whispered suddenly.

Mallory blinked at him. At first, she wasn’t at all sure she had heard him correctly. She blinked at the sheet that was just inches from her nose before she tipped her head to look at him.

This stranger; this tall, dapperly dressed, incredibly handsome stranger, boldly and quite purposefully, winked at her. He smiled too, just a little. To add to Mallory’s consternation, there was a knowing look in his eye that warned her he knew far more about her situation than she realised.

“Who are you?” she asked suspiciously. “How do you know me?”

“I don’t know you,” the man replied.

He slid a look at the house. What he saw must have been reassuring because he edged closer.

“We will help you.”

“We? Who? Who are you?” Mallory frowned suspiciously at him.

A loud noise from within the house made the man step back several paces. Mallory tore her gaze away from him and dodged behind her sheet. She busied herself hanging several more items on the line before she turned to look at the man once more. Her stomach dropped to her toes beneath the weight of disappointment that slammed into her when she saw that the place where he had been standing was now empty. Glancing wildly about, Mallory looked for him, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He had vanished, as silently and swiftly as the gusts of wind that tore at her skirts.

Now where could you have disappeared to so suddenly? I cannot have imagined you, can I?

Mallory glanced at the ground but couldn’t see any indentations left in the grass by his booted feet.

“He hasn’t ever ventured into the kitchen before, even if he does work here,” she murmured thoughtfully.

She eyed the barn across the yard, the place where most of the master’s guards slept, but knew that the man hadn’t been dressed like any of the guards. The man had worn brown clothing whereas the guards all wore black. They strode around the perimeter of the property like ghouls waiting to capture the souls of the unwary. It was unnerving how they silently moved, as black as the night they usually inhabited.

“He isn’t one of them,” she mused.

But that left her to wonder just who in the heck he was? Moreover, how did he know about her situation? Who had told him about her if he hadn’t been into the kitchen to see for himself?

Mallory shivered, but this time it had nothing to do with the weather. She felt a deep well of foreboding begin to churn which was driven by the certain knowledge that something was amiss. Moreover, that something was going to happen that would change her life forever – again.

“Don’t be so foolish. Nothing is going to happen.”

But that reassurance fell flat because she knew that her circumstance couldn’t and wouldn’t carry on forever. At some point the master would send for her, just like he had with Jemima, and she wouldn’t return to the kitchen either.

“I don’t have a fear of dying. It is the fear of what I have to endure before death that is too hideous to face,” she muttered with growing alarm.

Mallory felt another wave of hunger-driven sickness slam through her. She sniffed and draped the next sheet over the washing line with hands that shook violently, this time because of the cold. Regardless, she continued to peg the washing out. As she did so, Mallory studied the yard at the back of the house.

Just beyond the kitchen gardens was a stable block, three sides of which opened out to a large barn surrounding which were fields. Miles and miles of open fields were interrupted by low stone walls and the occasional small group of trees. What concerned Mallory was that there was no place she could hide if she tried to run for her life. Someone would inevitably see her if she tried to leave during the daytime, of that there could be no doubt. There weren’t any buildings particularly safe to hide in if she left now and waited until nightfall.

“I have to go at night,” she murmured to herself as she lifted another sheet out of the basket. “I have to find a way out of the house once everyone has gone to bed.”

Shaking a sheet out, Mallory draped that over the line and pegged it into place as she tried to judge the distance between the barn and the low stone wall on the opposite side of the farthest field. The wall only came up to her hip. It would be impossible to hide behind. Still, it was the only physical barrier between her and watchful eyes within the house.

“I have to get out of here while I still have the energy. If I get influenza from being out here, I am going to be too ill to leave for a really long time.”

Mallory was so cold she was physically shaking yet was strangely starting to feel warm. It was inevitable she was going to be ill because of her inadequate clothing but suspected that was what Mrs Cummings wanted. The housekeeper enjoyed seeing people struggle through their heavy workload while battling illness. All the master’s paid staff seemed to enjoy inflicting as much misery on their victims as possible and didn’t care how depraved and physical they had to be to do it.

“I have to get out of here,” Mallory whispered only to wince when she heard the plaintive wail of her voice.