by Rebecca King
It felt good to see life going about as normal, even if hers was in turmoil. It gave her hope that one day her life would be able to return to the peace she once enjoyed. Nobody paid her any attention, leaving her at ease to simply wander and watch everyone else and allow her troubles to dissipate.
Several hours into her trip, Geranium studied the shop in the farthest corner of the square and decided to purchase a new hat. With determined strides, she made her way to the side of the road only for someone to step into her path.
‘Good morning.’
Geranium went cold as she looked into the narrow eyes of David Lynchgate. He was standing just a few feet away from her, staring hard at her as if he had been watching her. She knew then that he had deliberately intercepted her.
‘What do you want?’ Geranium knew that Lynchgate was the man she had seen in Judge Sminter’s house the day the judge had hung himself and struggled to keep her emotions off her face. Despite glaring boldly at him, she couldn’t resist a quick glance around the market square in search of an escape.
‘We need to talk,’ Lynchgate whispered firmly as he tried to grab her. ‘Come with me.’
Geranium took a step back when Lynchgate reached out to her. ‘No! Get away from me,’ she demanded loudly. Her raised voice drew the curious looks of several passers-by, many of whom stopped to look accusingly at the man she was talking to.
Lynchgate sighed heavily. He glared at everyone but knew that if he tried to drag her with him now, he would face objections from the crowd.
‘Later,’ he hissed menacingly at her before disappearing into the milling throng.
Geranium’s heart thundered as she searched the crowd for him. She wasn’t at all sure what she should think, but she felt sick. Her legs shook so much she stumbled toward the milliner in the corner of the market square in search of somewhere she could sit down for a while. It was a relief to be able to step inside the shop and close the door on the noise of the market, which had become overpowering now that she was afraid. The crowd, which had once brought her so much contentment, now seemed sinister and dangerous to be near. Once she was inside the shop, though, Geranium realised that she now had little interest in buying anything. All she wanted to do was go home even though she knew that without the staff in the house she really wouldn’t be all that much safer than she was in the market.
At least here, people are around to hear me scream if Lynchgate tries to accost me again.
Geranium hurried out of the shop but, rather than head straight to the coaching inn, popped into the bakery instead. She was hungry and so purchased several buns and a loaf of bread. She was tucking her purchases into her basket when she accidentally stumbled into a man who was passing.
‘Do excuse me,’ he murmured politely, his voice a husky rumble.
Geranium looked up at him. Way, way, up at him. There was a twinkle in this gentleman’s eye, and a soft curve to his lips that was self-effacing, almost bashful, and incredibly appealing. It made her smile at him in return even before she realised that she was doing it.
‘It’s no problem,’ she murmured before trying to side-step around him.
Geranium hesitated when he didn’t move. There was something in the way his gaze lingered on hers that made her stop and look up at him again, especially when he made no attempt to simply go about his business. It was then that she remembered where she had seen this man before.
He is one of Ronan’s friends.
Of course, when she had seen him early this morning, he had been wearing a hat and riding his horse. In a blind panic, Geranium glanced wildly around for Ronan and their other friend.
‘They are back in the village,’ Peregrine murmured. ‘How are you?’
‘Are you following me?’ Geranium asked without preamble only to mentally wince when she realised that she had just asked a question rather than answer him. ‘I am fine, but are you?’
Peregrine smiled. ‘Yes,’ he acknowledged simply. ‘Yes, I am fine, and I am following you. I wanted to make sure that you are all right. Are you?’
Geranium nodded. She hesitated but then sidled closer. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper and so low that Peregrine had to tip his head down to hear her. ‘Well, no, I am not really. Lynchgate is here. He wanted to talk to me, but passers-by intervened.’
‘Where was he?’ Peregrine asked, studying the crowd over her head.
‘What’s your name?’ Geranium asked bluntly because she still didn’t know, and he hadn’t introduced himself.
Peregrine dipped his head until his lips were next to her ear. He knew they were attracting attention by whispering, but he wanted Lynchgate, if he was looking, to know that the Star Elite were watching over Geranium. ‘My name is Peregrine Malvern, but you can call me Peregrine. Now, which way did Lynchgate go?’
‘He headed toward the tavern.’
‘He won’t have left town, not if he wants a word with you.’ Peregrine was pleased that he had decided to come after her. ‘Tell me, what might he want from you?’
Geranium shrugged. ‘I have never really met the man, but I have heard that he is a pompous oaf. We have never moved in the same circles on account of my father disliking him. I cannot see why Lynchgate would want to talk to me. I certainly have no wish to speak with him.’
‘Then you shall have to come home with me,’ Peregrine murmured. He eyed the contents of her basket and waved to the market. ‘Is there anything else you need?’
‘Well, no, but I wasn’t planning on going home this soon,’ Geranium replied.
‘Then, with your permission, I shall escort you. Keep an eye out for Lynchgate, although don’t be obvious if you see him. Just give me a nudge, eh?’
Geranium, warming to the kindness of the man, smiled and accepted the gentlemanly elbow he held out to her. She was deeply touched that he appeared to be trying to make amends for Ronan’s rudeness earlier, despite it really not being something he needed to do.
‘You don’t have to do this, you know,’ Geranium offered. ‘I can manage by myself. I have been coming to this market all my life. People here know me.’
As if to prove it, several people called out to her, others nodded.
‘You do indeed seem to have plenty of people keeping an eye on you already,’ Peregrine mused, smirking a little when he saw Ronan hovering on the street corner, searching the crowd. He doubted that Ronan was looking for Lynchgate.
Peregrine eyed the young woman beside him and could understand why Ronan had been so ensnared by her so swiftly. Geranium was straight-forward, plain talking, and unphased by her encounter with Lynchgate. There wasn’t any heirs and graces about her, or pomposity. She was engaging and had a lively interest in her surroundings. She smiled at the children, nodded and called greetings to the people she knew. She was content with her world and it showed in her naturalness. There wasn’t any social status, or rank and title nonsense amongst the market dwellers or their patrons. They were all people going about their business, either selling goods others wanted or purchasing the goods they needed to get through the days and weeks ahead. A busy market like this was one of Peregrine’s favourite kind of places to be because there was an honest simplicity about markets that was reassuring. Everyone faced the same battles of getting through winter and keeping food on their tables to stave off hunger no matter how much money they had or what they called themselves.
‘Who are you?’ Geranium asked quietly when they had taken their first tour of the market.
‘You should know that we are not ordinary men,’ Peregrine mused. ‘Although I cannot tell you too much about who we are just yet because I don’t have permission to tell you, we won’t hurt you. Our boss will decide when the time is right to tell you about us. What I will ask you to do is not trust David Lynchgate or go anywhere with that man. We suspect that he is responsible for the magistrate’s murder last night, and Judge Sminter’s death yesterday.’
Geranium blinked at him. ‘Mr Wardle is dead?’
Peregrine nodded slowly. ‘We found his body this morning. We know that Lynchgate was friends with both men and was in the area at the time they both died. Whatever you do, stay away from David Lynchgate. When you get home, warn your staff to keep the doors and windows locked.’
Geranium nodded. ‘What has Lynchgate been doing? Are the rumours true about him?’
Peregrine’s brows shot up. ‘What rumours have you heard?’
Geranium told him.
‘So, the locals suspect that everyone involved with the running of the workhouse are stealing from the place,’ he mused thoughtfully, pursing his lips. ‘We don’t know yet, but we will find out.’ Peregrine frowned at her, as if contemplating what to tell her, but before he could say anything else became aware of several pedestrians having to step into the road to get around them.
‘He has tried to defraud someone at Muldoon’s. Have you heard of it?’ Peregrine murmured, clasping her elbow in a firm grip and leading her away from the edge of the pavement.
‘The cotton mill? Everyone in Leicestershire has heard of Muldoon’s. It is the only cotton mill in the county,’ Geranium replied.
‘Well, Lynchgate tried to kill the owner. He has been caught stealing from the property, which is daughter owned for a while.’
‘Lynchgate’s daughter owned it? But I thought Mr Muldoon was found alive,’ Geranium pressed.
‘He was, but while Tabitha Lynchgate owned the cotton mill, or thought she did, her father did everything possible to get his hands on it, including trying to kill her,’ Peregrine warned.
‘He tried to murder his own daughter?’
Peregrine nodded. ‘So please don’t underestimate Lynchgate. He will kill you if he thinks he can overpower you. If he is desperate enough to kill a judge and magistrate he won’t stop at you or I, so please, if you see him or he comes anywhere near you start to scream and don’t stop until help arrives. He is not to be trusted.’
‘Who are you? Why won’t you tell me?’ Geranium asked.
Peregrine smiled at her. ‘I am not at liberty to tell you who I am. What I will tell you is that we are not criminals or bad men. We have been called in because it was suspected that Judge Sminter was friends with Lynchgate and was helping him.’
Geranium’s eyes bugged. ‘You are Star Elite,’ she whispered in awe. ‘All of you?’ She gulped.
The reputation of the Star Elite was legendary. Many a long tale had been told beside the fireplace in taverns and homes up and down the country, of the exploits of the elite group of fighting men who worked undercover and had broken up and arrested some of the toughest gangs of criminals in the country.
Peregrine neither confirmed nor denied it. He merely stared hard at her as if silently warning her that she shouldn’t ask.
‘One day, eh? Just remember that timing is everything,’ he mused.
‘Now you sound like Ronan,’ Geranium huffed with a scowl.
Peregrine grinned at her. ‘He isn’t a bad man either.’
Just thinking about Ronan was enough to bring a lump to her throat and made tears sting her eyes. Geranium sucked in a breath and offered Peregrine a watery smile. She was even more confused now. It shocked her to think that Ronan might be one of the Star Elite as well.
And I hit him over the head. I am lucky he didn’t arrest me.
Mentally groaning in dismay, Geranium looked around the market square. It took her a few moments to realise that Peregrine was waiting for her to look at him.
‘Just remember that we aren’t the kind of men who are likely to remain in the area once the investigation is over. There are some men who are happy to settle down and want nothing more from life than a wife and family, and the ability to work an honest living to put bread on their tables. However, there are men who want more, who aren’t likely to ever be able to settle down to that kind of life.’
Geranium knew that she was being warned not to have any expectations of Ronan or any of the men from the Star Elite for that matter, including himself.
‘You heard Ronan’s opinion of me this morning,’ Geranium warned. ‘I am not so stupid that I would expect anything from someone who holds so much contempt for me.’
‘He doesn’t hate you,’ Peregrine argued.
The look on Geranium’s face warned Peregrine that she didn’t believe that for a second. Peregrine opened his mouth to object, but Geranium had already turned away, effectively putting an end to the conversation.
Geranium was still struggling to absorb the news that the men were Star Elite when she turned to face the market and tried to remember what she had wanted to do. In the back of her mind, everything that had happened, all of Ronan’s mystery, why him and his colleagues all travelled in a group, were all heavily armed, and had an interest in the judge’s house, all became clear.
No wonder Ronan finds me irritating.
‘Well, I think I am done here so will go home,’ Geranium announced when the silence between her and Peregrine became uncomfortable.
‘Then I shall escort you home.’
When Peregrine asked her about the ticketing office, Geranium spent a few moments talking to him about how she travelled to the market. She allowed him to go and fetch her a ticket while she waited outside the tavern.
Peregrine only left her beside the entrance because he knew that Ronan had seen her and was watching her like a hawk would watch a field mouse scuttling through hedgerow. While he hadn’t ventured anywhere near her yet, Peregrine didn’t doubt that Ronan would if anybody posed a danger to her.
‘If I could understand what in the Hell is going on between them, I would know what to do to help things along a little,’ Peregrine muttered.
As far as he was concerned there was absolutely nothing wrong with Miss Geranium Snetterton that should irritate Ronan as much as he claimed she did. She was wonderful, with a calm, level head on her shoulders, and a mature attitude toward life that didn’t allow for adolescent skittishness. Shaking his head in disbelief that Ronan might be stupid enough to let her go, Peregrine stepped toward the ticketing counter and smiled at the officer waiting to serve him.
While she waited for Peregrine to return with the ticket, Geranium ambled over to one of the stalls selling ribbons. Behind her, the loud toot of a coach preparing to race out of the coaching yard caused a flurry of activity in the market as everyone hastily cleared a route for the carriage to pass through the stalls. They all knew the carriage wouldn’t stop and made sure that animals and children were safely out of the way as the carriage rumbled to life.
Geranium stood on the edge of the path and watched the carriage rumble toward the court yard’s entrance. Suddenly, a strong pair of hands shoved her hard in the middle of the back, propelling her forward with such force that Geranium cried out and dropped her basket as she fell to her knees, straight into the path of the approaching carriage. The horses were already cantering toward her as they tried to gain momentum. When Geranium looked up, all she could see was the large carriage wheel directly behind four sets of hooves which were stomping determinedly toward her. Behind her, a woman screamed. Babies started to cry. A man bellowed a warning to the coachman, but his vehicle was already moving too fast for him to haul the carriage to a stop. Before Geranium could open her mouth to scream, or move, a pair of strong hands hauled her high into the air and whirled her around in a wide circle.
Geranium clutched at her saviour’s arms and stared blankly at the wall of the tavern as she was put back onto her feet. She struggled to absorb what had just happened, and how close she had come to dying.
‘Did it hurt you? Did it catch you?’ Ronan demanded. When Geranium didn’t answer him, he shook her roughly by the shoulders. He was only partially aware of Peregrine running toward them, this time after the man who was responsible for Geranium’s near disaster.
‘I’ll go,’ Dean called to him from within the crowd in the market before taking off after Peregrine.
Ronan didn’t bother to look at his
colleagues. He knew they would chase Lynchgate away from the area. It was his job now to get Geranium to safety while Lynchgate was busy so that the criminal couldn’t pose a danger to her again.
‘You have to come with me,’ Ronan informed her. He too was shaken by what he had just seen, and how close he had come to losing her.
When it became evident that Geranium wasn’t going to move, Ronan hauled her into his arms. She fit so perfectly against him that it felt as if God had designed her especially for him. It felt right to hold her, despite so many curious and worried locals watching them. Even though she was safe, Ronan couldn’t find the will to release her. He knew that the image of her kneeling in front of the carriage wheels, inches from death, was going to remain with him for a very long time. It shook him far more than anything he had ever witnessed in all his years with the Star Elite. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to howl and rage. Ronan was so furious that he physically trembled with the force of his fury. He made no apology for it. He was livid with Lynchgate, and rightly so, for being such a ruthless bastard that he would try to take the life of an innocent young woman just because she talked to the Star Elite.
Ronan knew that Lynchgate was fully aware of who they were. He also knew that Lynchgate was getting desperate as well as arrogant now that he was on familiar ground. Lynchgate had, after all, grown up in the area and had lived here all his life. He knew the streets, the surrounding fields, and the places to hide whereas the Star Elite were still learning. The only thing the Star Elite had in their favour was that Lynchgate had a reputation for being a pompously arrogant bore who had made himself many enemies in the area. He wasn’t well liked by people, and so had nobody he could turn to who would be willing to risk everything to hide him, especially now that he had killed the two men who had been his willing accomplices.
‘Are you all right?’ Ronan whispered when he could trust himself to speak without swearing.
Geranium nodded and forced herself to step away from him. She busied herself with finding her basket and checking its contents. She was shaking like her leaf and weak to the point that she wasn’t at all sure if her knees weren’t going to buckle but she turned and offered Ronan a smile.