“How dare you, you oaf?” she called.
When he didn’t respond, she thumped his backside with a dainty fi
st, but didn’t even elicit a grunt of discontent. She wished she could gain enough purchase to kick him in his Neanderthall-like head, but she couldn’t because of the tight hold he had across her thighs.
“Will you put me down?” she demanded loudly.
To her dismay, a group of revellers chose that moment to pile drunkenly out of the tavern as they passed. They took one look of the dark glower on Barnaby’s face, and the puce mulishness on Rose’s, and turned around and scurried right back inside.
“Cowards,” Rose called after them. The only response she received was the dull thud of the tavern door slamming shut.
Barnaby shook his head in disbelief that his life had descended this far. He could only hope and pray that none of his colleagues were around to witness his total descent into humiliation. He was already going to have to face the indignity of having to ride his horse with a bruised backside. To have to parade through town with a screeching banshee over his shoulder was a downright insult to his years of experience with the Star Elite. He was a fighter; a man of stealth. Right now, he may as well run up and down the main street stark naked and waving a torch above his head. He would draw far less attention than the witch was right now. Not even Chadwick was risking getting any closer.
When she wriggled and writhed, and his shoulder began to ache in protest, Barnaby reached the end of his patience. He had to put her down, and crossed the street for one last time. To see Chadwick still doggedly trailing them was intensely annoying, mainly because he couldn’t do a damned thing about it. A part of him wished he had left her back at the ball now. If Chadwick could manage to identify her in the crowd, and separated her from the pack, he would soon abandon her given the racket she made.
Unfortunately, Barnaby had a duty as an employee of the War Office to protect her now that she was a witness to murder. Given he was the only member of the Star Elite who had been around at the time, it was now down to him to protect the Star Elite’s main witness to the murder of Brian Jones, and Allan Bray; two of Terrence Sayers’ henchmen.
As far as the Star Elite knew, Chadwick was Terrence Sayers’ right-hand man – or one of them. Why they would execute two of their own was anyone’s guess. That was something the Star Elite had yet to find out. However, first of all they had to keep their main witness safe. It was just a shame she was downright beautiful - if a royal pain in the proverbial who didn’t know what being quiet meant.
Rose planted her elbow firmly on the man’s spine and rested her head on her hand. Her reputation, or what was left of it, had already been shredded. She had nothing to lose and therefore could see no reason why she shouldn’t do whatever she needed to do to get free. At the moment she was watching the killer try to pretend he wasn’t there, but follow them anyway. It was galling; as upsetting as being carried down the streets like a, well, like a heavy burden.
“You are never going to outrun him, you know,” she said conversationally.
“Shut up,” Barnaby grunted.
“You are carrying two people,” she added.
“Don’t I know it,” Barnaby snapped.
Rose pulled a face at him. “He is older than you, but isn’t playing at being a stone-age man. If you wanted to drag a woman back to your cave, why didn’t you just grab one by the hair when you got to the ball and drag her off like any self-respecting Neanderthal? I mean, I am flattered and everything, but why me?”
“Jesus, have mercy on my soul,” Barnaby pleaded.
Maybe when he was a hundred years old, he could look back on today and find something in this bizarre turn of events to laugh about, or raise a feeble smile about, anyway. At the moment, he was too busy scouring the streets trying to find somewhere he could dump his torment while staying alive so he could leave the area.
Rose had to admit that this whole episode was a novel experience for her. One that she didn’t want to repeat anytime soon, but it was something she could mark off her list of things to do before she died. However, the handsome stranger her youthful imaginings had dreamt might sweep her off her feet one day hadn’t been rude, surly, constantly praying to Jesus and muttering about Hell all the damned time.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Shut up,” Barnaby ground out through clenched teeth.
When they turned down another street she was positive they had been down at least three times before, Rose shook her head and frowned.
“Do you even know where we are going?” she demanded. “I mean, please don’t feel afraid to tell me if you are lost. The man following us is looking a little bewildered too. If you don’t know where you are going I can call back and ask him for directions. I think he is getting bored.”
“For the love of God, will you just keep your mouth closed, just for a little while?” Barnaby swore.
“What’s your name?” Rose asked, ignoring him completely.
“As if I would tell you that,” he snapped. He intended to give her a reason why he wasn’t prepared to tell her just yet only for her to interrupt him.
“Well, I thought that seeing as you expect me to go along with your every command silently, I should know what to call you besides Caveman,” Rose reasoned.
As she spoke she eyed Chadwick. He was indeed looking as though he was losing interest in following them. He had certainly started to look at his surroundings a bit more – as though he too had realised they were walking around and around in circles and he couldn’t quite figure out why either.
Barnaby couldn’t stand it a moment longer. She was behaving as though she was commenting on a day at the races, and he was no sure bet. Scouring the street ahead, he lengthened his stride, waited until they had turned the corner out of sight, and then raced across the street. Breaking into a run, the alley they raced down turned sharply to the right, and ended on a narrow residential side street somewhere about a mile away from the ballroom.
Breathing heavily, Barnaby bent over and deposited her unceremoniously onto her feet. Bracing his hands on his knees he took a few moments to try to get his breath back while he glared up at her balefully.