She did the only thing she could. She ran. Her bare feet made barely a sound across the floor but she caught the corner of a small table as she rushed by and it wobbled behind her. She released her breath in relief when it didn’t topple over, but the relief was short-lived when the vase it held crashed to the floor. Heavy-footed steps raced down the corridor behind her. There was nowhere to go. She rushed into the library and closed the door.
Just before it clicked shut a hand caught it and shoved it open. She screamed and stumbled backwards from the force which the man used to open the door. Her foot caught in the hem of her nightgown and she fell against a table beside one of the chairs in the room. She quickly righted herself, but it was too late. The men loomed over her and there was nowhere for her to run.
“What do you want?” she demanded. Her false bravado was quickly given away by the quaver in her voice.
“Ha, ha!” The man in front laughed mockingly at her as she retreated across the room. “That knock to your head did some damage after all, didn’t it? This is almost worth not killing you the first time.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked again. She continued to back away, not that it did any good because the men continued to advance on her. Soon she would be forced into a corner. Then what was she going to do?
“I think you know what I want, Princess.” He curled his lips into what was supposed to be a smile.
“I’m not a Princess.”
He cocked his head at her. “Aren’t you?”
She stopped her backward progress. “No. I would have remembered that.” Wouldn’t she? Things started churning in her mind and flashes of pictures flew around inside her head. Who was she? A picture stopped right behind her eyes and instantly everything came into focus.
“Ah, you do remember, don’t you, Princess?” The man continued to sneer at her.
“Don’t call me that.” The ice that coursed through her veins when the men were chasing her was nothing compared to the fear that consumed her now. She was well aware of what these men could do.
Too late, she noticed the other man had circled around beside her, and they now had her cornered. Against her better judgement, she took a step back.
“There ain’t no running this time, Princess. Where is the package?”
“I don’t have it.”
“Tell us something we don’t know. Where is it?” He took another step forward.
“I don’t know. Philip wouldn’t tell me where he hid it.” Her eyes darted around, looking for anything she could defend herself with.
The man walked closer. She stepped back and felt the edge of the bookshelf dig into her back. Oh God, he was going to kill her. After all this time, he had finally found her. And this time, there was no escaping.
“He may not have told you where he hid it, but you know where it is, don’t you, Princess? You were always too smart for your own good, and I bet that hasn’t changed.” His hand grasped her throat and lifted her to the tips of her toes, too high for her to bring one of her knees up to defend herself.
Black spots obscured her vision. She struggled to drag a breath into her lungs past the vice-like grip he had on her throat, her hands fighting to get a hold on one of the shelves behind her. She was losing the battle and just before her vision turned completely black, he released her. She fell to the ground in a heap and desperately sucked air into her lungs. Her head pounded to the point of explosion and it took a moment for his voice to penetrate.
“Where is it, Princess?”
She shook her head. He wasn’t getting that package. He’d have to kill her first. She was under no illusions that he was going to do it anyway. “I don’t know,” she rasped.
He squatted down in front of her. He reached out and grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Come now Princess, where is Daddy’s package?” He let his words sink in for a moment, then added, “We already know what is in it. We extracted that information from him. Too bad he gave it to us in exchange for your life. But he won’t know we broke our promise.”
Terror tore through her at his words. “What do you mean?” She struggled to keep from shivering as each wave of panic broke over her.
“We had to kill him when we were done, of course.” The man spoke calmly as though this was an everyday occurrence. She knew, for him, it probably was.
“No,” she whimpered, “not Daddy.” She heard her heart break and she curled into herself. Great racking sobs shook her whole body as the magnitude of his words registered in her mind. “You can’t get away with murdering the King, Peter!” she shouted at him.
“Ah, you do know my name. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” he said with a satisfied smile. “And you are wrong…we did get away with it. No one cares that the King is dead, there is already another ready to take his place.”
“No.” Her voice was stronger this time, despite the tears that continued to track down her face.
“Of course we made it look like an accident. He should’ve known better than to go driving alone without an escort in the rain, but it was not the first time he’d done it, was it?”
Her father had scoffed at the constraints imposed on a Mob King and often snuck away in disguise to enjoy ‘civilian’ life. He had a soft side his enemies didn’t know about. He actually cared about his people and if he had been a real ‘king’, he would’ve been a great monarch.
His right-hand man, Peter, did know his soft side, however, and had used it against him.
Harriet remembered now, six months ago her father had called her into his office. What he revealed to her was unexpected to say the least. He had been friends with the Quantum Physics genius, Gareth Hutchinson, for years. Her father had in fact financed his laboratory. Gareth joined them in the office that day. Harriet hadn’t noticed him when she walked in. But she had seen Peter. He stood at his usual place behind her father’s desk. He smiled at her that day, as though she was a ray of sunshine to his dark life. If only she had known what he was really after.
Her father sat behind his desk. He was a large man and well fed. His face was rosy and when he wasn’t conducting unpleasant ‘family’ business, he always wore a smile. His bright green eyes twinkled at his daughter when she came into the room. “Sit down, Princess,” her father bade her with his usual smile. “I have something exciting to tell you.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “You remember our good friend Gareth, don’t you?”
She turned to where he gestured and saw the man leaning against the far wall of the room, his arms crossed across his chest. He gave her a brief nod.
“Yes of course,” she said, turning back to her father.
“He has discovered something very exciting. Something that will change life as we know it forever. Gareth, my dear boy, come and explain what you have found.”
Harriet’s curiosity was piqued: what had the man discovered?
“Time travel.”
“Excuse me?” Surely she hadn’t heard right but she kept the smile plastered on her face.
“Time travel,” Gareth growled at her. “I’ve discovered people have been able to travel through time for centuries.”
Peter’s smirk conveyed her thoughts exactly. My God, he’s crazy. She smiled at him in what she hoped was an encouraging manner; she didn’t want to disturb his fragile mind any more than it already was.
“I have discovered a ripple in the fabric between parallel dimensions,” Gareth continued, adjusting his glasses. “You may be aware of the science of Quantum Physics? There are multiple planes on which we exist, living alternate lives. There is no ‘time’, no past, no future, just now on different planes of the universe. Needless to say, I have found a way through. I have found a way through the layers!”
Gareth became animated with his speech and when she looked at her father she could see he believed the rubbish the man was spouting. Her father wasn’t naive, so there had to be something that had made him believe.
“And
how exactly does this fabric open, Dr Hutchinson?” Peter drawled from his post behind her father.
“That’s the exciting part! It is really quite simple. Probably why we could never figure it out before, we were looking for something much more complex.” He adjusted his glasses again and reached into his suit pocket.
“Well, what is it?” If he would just hurry up and tell them, she thought to herself. She schooled her voice as she had been taught, to portray the perfect amount of polite curiosity. All she was curious about was how the man had managed to trick her father into believing him.
“It’s this.” He held out a necklace and let the pendant dangle back and forth.
“You expect me to believe that humans are able to travel through time with nothing more than a necklace?” She couldn’t quite keep the disbelief from her tone.
“Not just any necklace, my dear girl, but one worn by someone in the time you wish to go to. You see, it is only a crutch to get you there, the real magic happens in your mind. Now I am certain there are people who have travelled with no help through objects, but it does make things decidedly easier. You see, all you need to do is cast your mind to where you want to go. It is really as simple as that…and as difficult, hence the necklace. Of course you can use any object you want, but something attached around your neck is less likely to fall off, is it not?”
Something suddenly occurred to Harriet. “Why are you talking to me as though you are giving me instructions?”
Gareth looked at her father and then said, “That’s because I am.”
She was on her feet instantly. “What?!”
“Sit down, Princess,” her father said calmly. “Thank you for coming, Gareth, and explaining your discovery, I will be sure to require your services in the next few days while we are getting ready. In the meantime I ask you to make yourself comfortable in the kitchen and let Cook find you something to eat for lunch. I have an important matter to discuss with my daughter.” He then turned to Peter, who still stood behind him, and did something he never did before. “You too, Peter, I wish to speak to my daughter alone.”
The cock of one eyebrow was the only indication Peter was surprised by the request. He nodded and walked out the door after Gareth and shut it tightly.
Her father waited until he heard the ‘click’ of the door, before he said anything further. He raised his hand to stop Harriet getting in first and said, “Yes, I know, it was with great trepidation that I first heard Gareth describe what he had discovered. But I assure you, we have tried the method out and it does in fact work. He deduces that the method works best on a full moon, for whatever reason. There is a full moon in two nights’ time.” He leaned forward and steepled his hands together on his desk. “I need you to do something for me, Harriet.”
Her father never called her by her given name. For as long as she could remember, she was always Princess. There was no turning away from the intensity of his gaze and she found herself agreeing before she had found out what exactly he was asking of her.
“I need you to go on a mission for me. I need something very valuable taken to a man of some great import. Unfortunately, I am unable to complete the mission myself.” He took a deep breath and his gaze softened. “When we tested Gareth’s method of travel, we discovered a slight hiccough. I suffered from a mild heart attack. Now, now,” he held his hand up to her. “it’s nothing to worry about, I was taken care of straight away. Peter himself drove me to the hospital. I must add that if my heart had not already stopped it would have done so again with the way that man drives when he is in a hurry. I implore you never to get into a vehicle with him behind the wheel,” he said with a smile.
“How could you not have told me about your heart attack? Don’t you think that it was something that as your daughter I should have been informed about? Why didn’t Peter tell me?”
“Because I told him not to. There was no reason to worry you over nothing. It was looked after and I was out of the hospital the next day. You were busy in Atlanta, with whatever it is you do there, and I didn’t need you travelling here in a panic. All you would have done was upset me anyway.”
Harriet was taken aback by his words and she felt the sting of unshed tears burning the backs of her eyes. She blinked to keep them there. No matter how many times she tried to prove herself to him, he found her nothing more than a pretty decoration. Maybe this time she could actually prove useful. “What is it you want me to do?”
***
It wasn’t long after she arrived in 1814 that Harriet knew she was being followed. At first she didn’t know who by but she often felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. Three horsemen seemed to dog her steps everywhere she went. It wasn’t until the second week that they got close enough for her to get a look at them.
Seeing her father’s right-hand man here in 1814 London wasn’t something she’d been expecting. If Peter was here, who was protecting her father? She stopped in the middle of the pavement and stared at him. She took a step towards him but there was something in the look in his eye that stopped her from going any closer. The man behind him pulled out a gun and levelled it at her heart.
She didn’t wait around long enough to determine if the man was a good shot or not. She had got a good look at his face. He was from her family’s greatest rival. Charlie was the most ruthless killer there ever was. The fact that her father’s most trusted man was with him was not a good sign. Why was he here? Where was her dad and why the hell were Peter and Charlie together?
The one good thing Harriet was good at though was hiding. She was able to blend in wherever she went. It was a skill that had proved vital her entire life. It was a skill that enabled her to live a relatively normal life. Being the daughter of the greatest Mob King of all time was not something that came easily. People were either afraid of her or tried to use her to get close to her family. Her ability to vanish was something her whole family appreciated. It had saved her life more than once. She was under constant threat of kidnap or murder because of who her father was. He had learned to leave her to her own devices; she was better off if she wasn’t surrounded by bodyguards. They had learned the hard way that they drew too much attention to her. If she travelled about on her own she looked like anyone else.
Consequently, Harriet learned how to blend in, how to imitate accents and mannerisms, becoming one of the people instantly. She never stood out, despite her beauty.
However, finding the man her father wanted his documents delivered to was proving difficult. She had searched where she was assured he was, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere. The man they called Rupert was missing.
Peter and his men were getting harder and harder to lose. She had managed to give them the slip a few times, but they were learning her tricks. She had been in the past for three weeks when they tracked her down one early morning. She did the only thing she could. She ran.
She managed to make it into Hyde Park before they gained on her. She knew her time was running out and she should use the opportunity to go back home. But her job was to deliver the packet to Rupert. And she knew that going home wasn’t going to protect her from the men chasing her. They knew how to time travel as well. They would only follow her back through the fabric. She couldn’t risk bringing them back to her father. Nothing else mattered besides his safety.
The hooves of their horses pounded the ground behind her. Harriet leaned lower on her horse’s neck and swerved him to the left to duck in behind a row of trees. The last thing she remembered from that night was a gunshot ringing out through the air.
Chapter 35
Philip cursed himself for his irrational behaviour. Because of it, he now found himself not only miles from Harriet, whom he had sworn to protect at all costs, but he was also soaked to the bone, knee-deep in mud and thoroughly livid with himself. He hoped to hell he could get back to her in time.
The idea to look around the estate seemed like a good one this morning. He had enjoyed himself for most of the day, even
with the wind blowing and the rain driving in. It was weather he had been used to in his youth. A part of him wanted to relive those days. But it was at the last tenant’s house he stopped at that his blood turned cold.
The farmer’s wife had spotted three men riding towards the main house. The description she gave left no doubt in his mind as to who the three men were. And he had left Harriet all alone, unprotected except for an aging butler and a grumpy housekeeper.
He’d left the woman standing at her step and rode as if the devil himself was after him. He pushed his horse beyond its endurance and Philip prayed it would live to get him to Harriet’s side. If it died, he would have to go on foot and he knew he would never get there in time if that happened. But he would run on his own two feet if it was the only way to get to her.
The mud sucked at every footstep of his horse and the rain continued to bucket down upon him. He could barely see a metre in front of him but he kept pushing onwards. His horse stumbled with each step, but the faithful nag didn’t give up.
The relief of finally reaching his destination after hours of slow hard slog in the mud warmed his soul. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
The house was asleep when he rounded the corner of the driveway. His horse came to a grateful rest at the door. It stood with its head down against the driving rain. Its sides heaved in and out as Philip jumped out of the saddle and he gave it a grateful pat on the neck and then took off at a run.
From when he and Jasper were children, Philip remembered the key to the back door was hidden under the third rock to the right. He groped around in the dark until he located the spot. The rock was stuck fast. Philip got down onto his hands and knees and dug around the rock, trying to loosen the mud from around it. Finally he wrenched it up. The mud surrounding it emitted a slurping noise and then a quiet pop as he freed it. The key wasn’t there. Philip squinted into the dark at the round impression the rock had made in the ground where it had rested since before he was born. He heaved the rock out of the way and felt around with his hands, but he still couldn’t find the key. It would be just his luck that they had moved the blasted key after all these years.
Damsel in Distress? Page 14