Cold Comfort (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 5)

“Go to Hell,” she snarled. “I am not going anywhere with you. I have seen what you have done to my sister.”

“She weren’t anything to do with me,” the man growled.

“But you know all about her, don’t you? You know what happened to her and why, don’t you? Your friends know exactly what happened to her because t

hey were the ones who did it. They were the ones who killed her in cold blood and left her body in the gutter like she was worthless.” Emmeline knew she was making her present situation, and most probably her immediate future, considerably worse but once the words started to flow, she couldn’t stop them. She shook. Everything within her shivered with the force of the emotion that she couldn’t control. She refused to be silenced. Instinctively, she knew that to remain mute would condemn her and she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.

Noise. I need noise and plenty of it. Mrs Wattling will have seen the carriage outside by now. I have to alert her to the fact that this thug is trying to kidnap me.

Emmeline started to feel weak at the realisation that this is what was really happening. This thug was trying to steal her out of her house and thieve her life right out from under her as surely as he had robbed Caroline of her life.

“Go to Hell,” Emmeline snarled with so much violent ferociousness that the man paused and blinked at her.

To her consternation, he suddenly grinned toothily at her as if he found it incredibly funny. Outside, a horse whinnied in protest, most probably at having to wait so long to be on its way. As far as Emmeline was concerned, it could howl at the moon because she wasn’t going to hasten its journey.

“My, aren’t you a feisty one? The boss likes them to put up a fight,” the man smirked.

“Well, he can go and find someone else because I am not going to play your silly little games. Get out of this house. I am going to report you to the magistrate. Just who in the Hell do you think you are to barge in here like this?”

“He is working with the kidnappers,” Oliver panted from the doorway.

Emmeline gasped and, thug temporarily forgotten, whirled to face Oliver. The knife she held was still aloft as she blinked at her savour, but Oliver who didn’t give her anything more than a cursory look because his gaze was locked on his opponent.

“Well, let me see now, Smidgley certainly didn’t waste any time sending you around, did he? What is wrong, did she put up more of a fight than you expected?” Oliver drawled.

He had to stop talking, if only to get some air in his lungs. He was used to riding everywhere he went and had just run far faster and far harder than he had ever run in recent memory.

And it is the last time I am going to do it as well, he promised himself.

“Here,” Harry yelled as he stormed into the house.

“Here,” Oliver called back almost causally.

Emmeline almost wept with relief when she saw Harry appear in the doorway. She had no hesitation charging across the room toward him when he motioned to her.

“Let me take that,” he said gently before promptly relieving her of her knife.

Now that he knew she was safe, Oliver focused his attention on the thug who was doing his level best to try to look as innocent as possible.

“Now, I ain’t come here for no trouble,” the man began warily, his gaze sliding from Oliver to Harry and back again.

“Oh? And why are you here, exactly?” Oliver asked conversationally.

“He was trying to force me to go with him,” Emmeline told him.

“I know,” Oliver replied. “I heard he was going to try.”

Harry stepped behind his colleague, and shoved Emmeline toward Rhys, who hovered in the hallway outside the study. The gun in his hand hung loosely from his fingers. Rhys beckoned to her, but Emmeline refused to leave the kitchen. She wanted to hear what was being said, not shoved to one side while the men shuffled this man off to gaol.

Oliver, needing an outlet for the pent-up anger that surged through him, slammed a fist into the thug that was hard, swift, and left the man gasping for air. The thug stumbled backward, clutching his jaw. With a snarl, he immediately righted himself and surged toward Oliver, who was already waiting to land another punch.

“What are you doing?” Emmeline cried. “Don’t start fighting in my house. Get out – the pair of you.”

She glared at Harry when he made no attempt to stop them. Instead, Harry watched the brawling men with a wary disinterest.

“Well? Aren’t you going to do something?” She demanded.

Harry shrugged. “Don’t get in the way of Oliver when he is fighting. He can be mean.”