by Rebecca King
“Isn’t it, Angus?” Aaron asked loudly.
Angus jerked out of his trance and blinked at his friend but had no idea what he had said.
“Indeed,” he murmured in a voice that was thick with dissatisfaction.
Aaron leaned forward in his seat and gave Charity a straight look.
Charity’s stomach flipped. Tension began to gather in her small sitting room.
“Might I ask that what we are about to discuss remains strictly between us?”
Charity looked from one man to the other. She wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea to agree but nodded anyway.
“Who are you?” she whispered, becoming distinctly uncomfortable beneath the intensity of their regard.
Aaron sighed. “Like the card says, we are from the War Office and are currently working on the investigation into the recent spate of kidnappings in the county. We have reason to believe that the culprit lives across the road. I am afraid we cannot tell you much more than we need to be able to use your front room to watch the occupants of the property.”
Charity frowned. “How will you know if he leaves? Every property along this road has a back door.”
Aaron smiled. “We will keep watch on that too. It is easy enough to do given we can use the woods running along the back of the properties on that side of the road to keep us hidden.”
He winced when he caught Angus’s stern look and suddenly wished he hadn’t told her so much. Her refusal wasn’t an option now. They had to stay, if only to stop her gossiping about what she knew and inadvertently telling their target he was being watched.
“We need to keep a close eye on that property and will have men in position to follow him when he leaves. It is imperative we not only stop this man snatching anybody else, but also find out what he has done with those who have already been taken,” Angus added. “We have to return them to their homes and families. I am sure you agree.”
It wasn’t a question.
Charity nodded. “Completely.”
Angus groaned when he saw her eyes light with interest.
“This is a formal investigation. It is imperative that you do not discuss what you have heard with another living soul. Success depends upon upmost secrecy.” Angus made his voice as stern as possible and accompanied it with a dark look of warning.
Charity glared at him. It was galling that neither man considered her able to control the need to gossip.
“I can assure you that having lived in a small village like this all my life I am well aware of how the gossips work,” she replied pertly.
“Is there anybody else who lives here?” Angus asked again.
Charity sighed. She really didn’t want to tell them. Her gaze fell to the small card on the side table. She picked it up and read it again. Of course, she had heard of the War Office. Who hadn’t? The War Office had become legendary throughout the country. It was a little overwhelming to have two officers from such a fine establishment in her small house. So much so, she felt small and relatively insignificant in the presence of such commanding men and had little doubt they would ultimately succeed in their goal to capture the kidnapper, whoever he was. If they wished her to play a small part in their dark and dangerous work, it would be churlish of her to refuse, wouldn’t it?
“No,” Charity sighed.
Angus was floored by the relief that slammed into him. He had no idea where it came from, or what to do about it. Thankfully, he was spared having to contemplate it by Aaron, who leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“While I do understand your sentiments with regard to Mr Lawrence, it is my experience that one can never really take appearances at face value,” Aaron assured her. “Can we, Angus?”
“No, indeed,” Angus replied dutifully. His gaze remained nonchalant when Aaron threw him a sharp look. “We need to use just the front bed chamber of your property just for a day or two, a week at the most. We need enough time to follow the suspect when he leaves the house. So far, a young person has been snatched every week to ten days. There is a similar pattern to the disappearances. We hope to have a significant lead within a fortnight. I am sure you will agree that the faster we can return the innocent victims to their families the easier we will all feel.”
Charity shivered at the deep rumble of his voice. She quietly contemplated what had changed in the last few moments. Angus’s voice hadn’t been that deep a moment ago – had it?
Maybe I am colder than I realise, or coming down with influenza, she mused as she contemplated that husky tone, and what it did to her already beleaguered senses. Could she refuse him?
Her heart went out to those already affected, of course it did. She couldn’t imagine the emotional distress their families were enduring. To think of what the victims might have experienced was enough to guarantee her compliance, and it had nothing to do with the persuasive charms of the man seated in her sitting room.
“I find it utterly astonishing that someone in this village might be responsible and agree that you need to do everything possible to catch the culprit as swiftly as possible.” She paused for a moment, then smiled in a way that alarmed both men. “I am happy to help out.”
“We only need to use your bed chamber at the front of the property that overlooks the house across the street, that’s all,” Angus growled.
“Of course,” Charity replied, her smile brightening. “The front bed chamber is mine, but I don’t mind moving into one of the other bed chambers for a while. We can then keep watch.”
“We will do it,” Angus warned waving a hand at Aaron who was emphatically nodding.
“We only need to use your property, ma’am. You will be perfectly safe while we investigate Mr Lawrence, not least because you will have our protection whilst we are here. Meantime, we would ask that you not do anything that might put your life in danger.” Aaron’s voice held a hint of a plea that made Charity’s lips twitch.
“I wouldn’t suggest otherwise,” she scoffed. “I mean, I am hardly likely to wrestle the man, am I?”
She put as much innocence into the look she gave them to convince them that she meant every word.
Unfortunately for her, Angus didn’t believe her for a second. He didn’t like that enthusiastic glint in her eye but was at a loss to know how to squelch it.
“This is an official investigation,” he warned. “Please don’t interfere in it. Don’t discuss it or tell anybody that we are here.”
“They already know, don’t you think?” Charity nodded to the tall coachman still sitting perfectly still atop the huge black carriage. “How many of those did you see in this village on the way here?”
Aaron mentally winced because now that she had pointed it out – not many.
“When do you wish to start?” Charity asked quietly.
She ignored the distinctly uneasy thoughts tumbling through her head but couldn’t prevent her gaze straying to Angus. It was difficult to behave normally around him, not least because of the tell-tale fission of excitement that shivered through her whenever their gazes met – as they seemed to do more and more often. It was shocking because she had not expected to feel it toward anybody – ever. Now that she was barraged with strange sensations she had yet to contemplate further, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.
Charity frowned. “Does the magistrate know you are here by the way?”
Angus slid a look at Aaron. “He does but has no leads that might identify a culprit. Given the severity of what is going on in this area, we have taken over the investigation. The magistrate has no authority in this case. Ergo, if you see or hear of anything untoward you should report it to either of us,” Aaron replied.
“Do we have your approval to borrow your house?” Angus asked suddenly.
“All we would ask is that you do not entertain anybody while we are here,” Aaron added quietly.
Charity’s brows lifted. She paused.
“Is that a problem?” Angus prompted when Charity didn’t immediately
agree.
Charity sighed. “I am afraid that is impossible.”
“Do you socialise a lot?” Angus asked. It wasn’t until he spoke that he realised just how personal his tone had been when he had asked that question.
“I am a member of a tapestry group who meet two or three times per week,” she replied carefully. She wished there was some way to avoid the meeting tonight, but there wasn’t.
“I don’t see any problem with that, as long as you don’t walk the streets alone even in the daytime. It isn’t safe right now,” Angus warned.
Charity nodded but then looked regretfully at him. “We meet here.”
She saw the men’s startled looks. “I am sorry, but I have the space whereas the other ladies don’t.”
“Could you not meet in the church hall or something?” Angus asked in consternation.
Charity shook her head. “The ladies are a little difficult.”
Aaron’s gaze hardened. “In what way – difficult?”
“They can be a little argumentative,” she said.
“How argumentative?” Angus was becoming frustrated at just how reticent Charity had become. Frustrated and very, very worried.
“About six months ago, the ladies had a slight alteration with the vicar. He likes to drink, I am afraid, and found himself on the receiving end, whilst intoxicated, of one of Augusta Applebottom’s lectures on leading by example. I am afraid by the time she had finished, aided by some of the other ladies, we were no longer allowed to use the hall, or the church.” Charity fell silent and waited.
“You got kicked out by the vicar?” Angus murmured, appalled and impressed at the same time.
Charity nodded, her entire demeanour contrite.
“They don’t miss a thing either, I am afraid,” she murmured regretfully. The men looked stunned. Eager to appease them, Charity leaned forward. “Would it not be better for you to use the house next door? You could use Mrs Vernon’s house. Nobody would think anything odd about someone looking out of the window at her house. You could say you are relatives. She is a bit of a gossip but doesn’t go out much. I am sure you could persuade her not to speak to anybody while you are there.”
“No!” Angus mentally cursed at the force behind his words. He took a moment to force himself to relax. “It has to be here. We have to stay here.”
Aaron gave him a searching look but didn’t argue.
“I am afraid that our use of the coach might have already raised a few alarm bells. I would ask that you tell anybody who asks that we are your relations and that we are here to stay for a while. I am afraid that our being here like this could leave you vulnerable if our target is across the street, and suspects you know something. We cannot leave you vulnerable,” Angus insisted.
“Are you sure you cannot cancel your tapestry group for the time being?” Aaron asked.
Charity shook her head. “If I tried it would invariably bring them to the door, you see? They would be even more stubborn and would refuse to leave until they found out what is wrong, and why I wanted to cancel. Besides, I am afraid I am not prepared to lie to my friends.”
Suddenly, the clock on the mantle chimed the hour. Charity jerked and stared in horror at the men.
The panic on her face when Charity looked at the window was enough to get Angus out of his seat.
“Oh, no,” she whispered in dismay.
“What is it?” Angus stepped toward her, his gaze sharp as he scoured the area for whatever had upset her.
“They are here,” she moaned.
Charity looked at them in consternation. She had never seen anybody move as fast as the men who were quite clearly braced for a fight. Unfortunately, it wasn’t fast enough to make themselves invisible to the women who were already gathering outside her front door.
“Good Lord,” Charity whispered as she watched Angus reach for something hidden beneath his jacket. She knew exactly what he had instinctively tried to grab – his gun. “You won’t need that.”
On cue, a series of rapid knocks echoed through the silent house.
CHAPTER THREE
To Charity, the series of heavy knocks on her front door sounded like the death knell of the church bells when they were rung to announce someone’s funeral. She closed her eyes on a silent prayer that she had just imagined them, but when they sounded again with rapid succession, Charity knew God was most definitely not going to smile on her today.
“The tapestry group?” Angus asked.
He knew trouble was afoot. His suspicions were proven correct when a cheery face suddenly appeared in the window and tapped rapidly on the glass.
“Cooee!” the elderly woman called who boldly peered into the house to see why the door wasn’t answered immediately.
“The tapestry group,” Angus sighed with a mental curse. It couldn’t be anyone else given the small gaggle of ladies carried various items of sewing paraphernalia.
“Yes, the tapestry group,” Charity murmured.
“I am afraid that now they have seen you neither of you can go anywhere. They won’t stop asking questions until they get all the answers they are satisfied with.”
“They mustn’t know about our arrangement,” Angus warned.
“How am I supposed to keep it from them? Do you not think they would notice you?” She motioned to his powerful length standing so masculine and handsome in the middle of her sitting room. “How am I to lie?”
“Leave that to us, just follow the story. Let us answer any questions they might ask,” Angus warned.
“Just don’t stop being who you usually are. Let us give them excuses and build the story as we go,” Aaron suggested.
“I hate lying to them,” Charity growled.
She purposely ignored the increasingly heavy thuds on the front door. They positively vibrated around the house and warned everyone that the ladies were getting impatient. Even so, Charity couldn’t answer it until she was sure she was doing the right thing.
“They are worried now they have seen me with you,” she said quietly.
“That’s understandable,” Angus sighed. “Just let them in and stay calm. At some point, we will leave just so long as we have your assurance we can use your room. With your agreement, I will return at about ten tonight. I will give three brisk but quiet knocks on the back door. If you don’t hear three knocks, don’t answer the door. All right?”
Charity’s head was reeling. She watched Angus’s lips move but couldn’t focus on his words. Her mind was running in several different directions, driven along by the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt so out of control of her life before, and it was a little overwhelming.
I have suddenly gone from having an empty house and being miserably lonely to having my life driven along by a handful of probing people who don’t seem able to mind their own business.
She didn’t say that aloud, though. She wouldn’t be so presumptuous or rude. Not least because the men in her sitting room were trying to capture someone who was willingly destroying innocent young people’s lives. That thought, and that thought alone, was enough to make Charity square her shoulders and march toward the door.
“Can we stay?” Angus pressed before Charity could leave the room.
“Meet the tapestry group first,” Charity warned. “Then decide.”
Angus and Aaron were left staring at an empty doorway.
“You may want to take your chances with the kidnapper, though,” she muttered as she went to answer the door.
Angus lifted his brows. In the silence of the house it had been easy to hear her muttered sentiments. He shifted a wary gaze to his friend and colleague who was studying the two ladies peering into the room at him.
“I do believe we have jumped from the frying pan and into the fire,” Aaron murmured.
“I do believe we have taken up position in the middle of a gossip’s paradise,” Angus grunted. “Jesus, what have we done?”
“Brace yourself,” Aaron warned as he
took up a fighting stance, as though he was prepared to do battle.
Angus mentally began to pray for the fortitude to get through the forthcoming interview, and sternly reminded himself that it would all be worth it in the end.
Aware of the expectant silence behind her, Charity stalked to the door before she talked herself out of answering it. She suspected the men might not want to stay when they realised what the tapestry group was really like.
“Oh, my dear, I didn’t realise you had company,” Alice Brownlow gasped as she burst into the hallway, side-stepping around everybody who was in front of her. She glanced about expectantly then dropped her huge tapestry bag onto the floor at her feet as though right at home. Hurriedly, she began to yank at the voluminous folds of her cloak, seemingly unsatisfied with having to wait for everyone else. Still dragging her cloak off her shoulders, she stalked straight into the sitting room.
“Well, who do we have here?”
Agatha Renton stepped into the house and looked about her.
“I didn’t realise you had company, Charity,” she murmured around a somewhat accusing look. “You should have told us.”
“I-” Charity began only to break off and look down in surprise at the cake plate Agatha Renton shoved at her.
“Go and cut that, dear, will you?” Agatha instructed absently. “Put a pot on as well, will you? I have a frightful thirst. We can all have a nice piece of cake while we say hello to your young men.”
Charity’s mouth fell open to protest, but Agatha Renton also side-stepped around her and forged a way into the sitting room.
“Good evening, dear,” Alice Brownlow chimed, patting Charity’s cheek carefully as she too sailed past an open-mouthed hostess.
“Good Lord,” Charity murmured. “I had not realised just how indomitable they are.”
Edwina Trogley threw her a somewhat commiserating look. “They insist on knowing who those men are,” she murmured as she stood on tiptoe and tried to look over Charity’s shoulder. “They are both men? Are they relations?”
