The girls looked at him in hesitantly for a moment; as though they couldn’t believe it was true, before they hurried off without a backward look. The presence of Zack seemed to reassure them that this wasn’t a hoax, and they were more than happy to comply with the new set of orders from total strangers; especially if it meant that Taylor was no longer able to punish them for it.
Harry pointed one long finger at Taylor. “I am going to ensure that I get exact details of just what these people have been made to do with their days. As I see it, there is a very fine line between a poor house and a slavery encampment. You are in serious trouble for tormenting these unfortunate souls. I promise you, here and now, that you will go to jail for it.”
He was physically trembling with rage by the time he grabbed Mrs Taylor’s elbow in a fierce grip, and marched her down the rest of the hallway.
“Harry,” Barnaby whispered.
Harry turned around and watched his colleague nod toward a side room.
“Stay there,” he growled to Mrs Taylor, and walked back down the corridor to look at what had captured Barnaby’s gaze.
It wasn’t Tilly but, unless he was mistaken, it was another young woman who looked an awful lot like her. The woman inside the small side room stood in front of a sink. Beside her sat tower after tower of plates and bowls, which were stacked as high as she could reach. She was so engrossed in the laborious task in front of her that she didn’t appear to have noticed she wasn’t alone anymore.
Harry pinned Taylor with a hard stare, and knocked quietly on the door. He watched as the woman looked horrified for a moment, and froze mid-scrub before she turned slowly around to face them. There was such a look of dread on her face that Harry struggled not to go back out into the corridor, and lambast the hideous warden to within an inch of her worthless life.
“Come here,” Harry ordered gently. The woman’s gaze flew from him, to Barnaby, and then back to him. “It’s alright. Neither of us will hurt you. I want to ask you a couple of questions.”
“I -”
“Shut up,” Barnaby snapped at Taylor, who had moved back down the hallway so she could see what was happening.
“What’s your name?” Harry asked the young woman.
“Suzanna Hastings, sir.” She sidled carefully past them, out of the room, and almost slumped with relief when she saw Zack in the corridor.
“This is Suzanna,” Zack added proudly.
“Do you hail from Temperley?” Barnaby asked with a frown.
The look that flooded the young woman’s face assured them that she did, even before she spoke. Zack moved forward and gave his friend a hug, and they stood wrapped in each other’s arms when Suzanna started to cry.
Barnaby sighed and shook his head in disbelief. He could only vaguely remember the case the Star Elite had been forced to shelve, where a young girl very similar to Tilly, had vanished after taking a post chaise journey to a new life.
He threw Harry a look that warned him that they had things to talk about later, before he turned his attention back to the young girl.
“Do you hail from Yorkshire?” Harry demanded.
It was all a little bizarre to think that the mystery the Star Elite had been unable to solve had now appeared literally on their doorstep. What the hell was she doing in Tooting Mallow? How had she got there? Who had brought her here?
Harry shared a look with Marcus when Suzanna nodded jerkily, and hiccupped around a sob.
“Your father and uncle are waiting for you at home,” Barnaby declared gently, and watched sympathetically as the woman began to sob helplessly.
“I thought I was stuck here forever,” she gasped in a voice that was thick with tears. “I tried to get out, but cannot afford to go home. Whenever I asked to be let out, they locked me in rooms and starved me until I stopped asking. I asked to write to my father, but they wouldn’t let me do that either.”
Harry had heard that story before. It seemed to be the way that the wardens kept control of the residents; apart from issuing threats, and making sure that they worked until they almost collapsed.
They gave Suzanna a few minutes to collect herself before Harry’s impatience to get to Tilly grew too much to ignore.
“Right, Suzanna, Zack, you both need to come with us,” Harry declared firmly. He threw Taylor a dismissive look before he turned to Suzanna. “Where is Tilly?”
“Down there,” Suzanna nodded toward a solitary door at the end of the corridor. “She is scrubbing the floor in the hall.”
“Three times over, I suspect,” Harry growled, and cursed when Suzanna replied honestly.
“Oh, no sir. Only twice because the hall is so big.”
“She exaggerates,” Mrs Taylor snapped in disgust.
“No, I do not,” Suzanna replied snippily; her tears momentarily forgotten.
“We will explain who we are, and what we are doing, later,” Barnaby assured her. “Right now, you need to come with us.”
Harry didn’t bother to wait to make sure that everyone followed him. He hurried toward the door marked ‘Hall’, with the desperate need to see Tilly so strong that nothing, and nobody, was going to stand in his way.
CHAPTER NINE
Tilly felt the room swirl again, and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Her stomach roiled alarmingly, but she knew she couldn’t be sick again because she had eaten nothing at all since lunchtime yesterday.
It was confusing because she was ravenous, but then felt that she didn’t want to eat.
Her hand trembled as she dipped the wooden scrubbing brush into the frigid water in the pail beside her. Her hands were raw, red, and had ached fiercely from the first day she had spent in what she now knew was the closest thing to living Hell.
Although she knew she would incur the wrath of Mrs Taylor if she was caught, she had to take a break for a moment. Her back ached fiercely, and her shoulders screamed with pain from having to spend hour, upon hour, hunched over the pail while she scrubbed the already clean floor.
While the poor house had pretended to be a sanctuary; somewhere she could turn to in order to secure a roof over her head, she had failed to understand that the protection it offered came at a significant price. From dawn to dusk, the work was endless, although was less than satisfying. Far from being just work; it was incredibly repetitive, and often included going over the same task again and again, just because. There was no earthly reason why the floors needed to be scrubbed twice over, but that was what Mrs Taylor had decreed had to happen, so that was what everyone was forced to do.
When the sound of voices in the corridor outside reached her ears, she reluctantly picked up the scrubbing brush and began to rub at the same spot on the floor. Her mind went blank, as it had started to do so much over the last couple of days. She daren’t think about what Mrs Taylor would say to her if the horrible warden noticed she had only done one sweep of the floor rather than the two she had been ordered to do.
Right now though, she didn’t really care all that much. She had already spent last night without a blanket and candle because she hadn’t been able to manage a second scrub of the hall floor yesterday afternoon. The thought that she had to spend yet another night without warmth left her with a desperate urge to hit her head against the tiles in despair.
“This it?”
Tilly frowned at a spot on the floor as she listened to the rich, cultured tones of, surprisingly, a man outside the door. As far as she was aware, the only male in the female wing of this horrible place was Zack.
Harry actually felt nervous when he pushed the door open. To his utter relief there, right in the centre of the cavernous room, looking small and helpless upon the floor, was none other than the woman who had haunted his dreams.
Tilly.
“Thank God,” he growled as he marched forward. She looked so lost and forlorn on the cold tiles that his heart lurched at the sight of her.
The closer he got to her, the more his horror grew as the ravages that just
a few days at the poor house had wrought upon her became evident. Not only had she lost weight she really couldn’t afford to lose but she was pale, and had such a look of hopelessness in her eyes that he knew he would never forget how she looked right there and then.
“Tilly?” He whispered as he squatted down in front of her so that he could look straight into her eyes.
Tilly stared at him. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the realisation that he was even more handsome than she remembered. He was so wonderfully gorgeous that it almost pained her to have him witness her complete humiliation and she wished, right there and then, that the ground would open up and swallow her.
“God, Tilly,” Harry growled.
Their eyes met and held. He reached out slowly to touch one dirt smudged cheek, and was horrified to feel it was as cold as ice beneath his finger. He shook his head with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow.
“Sir?” She whispered.
Her gaze flickered toward the small group of people who stood just inside the hall doorway. She ignored Mrs Taylor’s evil stare, and frowned at the curiosity evident on Zack’s face as he watched them. The men beside Zack were total strangers, and she eyed them warily for a moment before she turned her attention back to Harry.
“What are you doing here?”
“Getting you out of here,” Harry growled as he pushed to his feet.
He held a hand out to help her stand but, when she merely stared at it and remained where she was, he sighed deeply and leaned down to remove the scrubbing brush from her hand. He dropped it back into the pail in disgust, and took hold of her chilled fingers. It annoyed him to feel the faint trembling against his palm, but waited patiently until she stood.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He looked so incredibly alive; so wonderfully masculine, that she wanted to reach out and touch him just to see if he was real. Was he really there? Had he really said that he was going to get her out? It all felt like a dream. It felt wonderful. It was exciting. But, of course, she daren’t hope that it was real. Not while she was beneath the hateful glare of Mrs Taylor.
She threw the warden a cautious look.
“I need to get back to work,” she mumbled with a frown. She quickly pushed the wild thrill of hope that began to form deep within her aside, and sternly warned herself that Mr Tingay couldn’t possibly be there to get her out. Why would he? Even if he was, Taylor wouldn’t let him take anyone away from here.
“No, you don’t, Tilly. There is no more work here for you. You are coming with me.” Harry sighed, painfully aware that the presence of the group of people behind him stopped him from fulfilling his desperate need to sweep her into his arms for a hug. “You shouldn’t have been here in the first place. It’s time to leave.”
“But I have nowhere to go,” Tilly gasped as she stared at him.
Once again, a wild thrill of hope swept through her, only this time it was a little harder to ignore. She glanced down at their clasped hands, and shivered as the warmth of his palm began to ease the chill from her fingers. She had not realised until now just how cold she was.
Harry sighed. She was so beautiful; so pale, and trembled so badly that he wondered whether she couldn’t walk, or daren’t. Either way, he knew that if he wanted to get her out of there then he had to carry her.
Still, needs must, he mused silently and, quite enthusiastically, swept her high into his arms. She felt as light as a feather; and so wonderful in his arms that he knew he had made the right decision to come after her. He took a moment to savour the feel of her against him at last, and felt the first tendrils of a much deeper emotion begin to flicker to life within him. It was immensely reassuring; and gave him hope that there was a much brighter future on the horizon now – for both of them.
Tilly clung to his shoulders. “Put me down,” she demanded weakly.
She was more than a little stunned at how quickly he stalked across the hall, even carrying her, but she couldn’t bring herself to object too vehemently just in case he put her down. Instead, she turned her attention to studying him now that he was close.
She didn’t think that she would ever see him again. He did, after all, live in a world that was far away from hers. Her mind still struggled to absorb the fact that he had come to get her out. Why? It seemed an awful lot of effort to go to in order to help her.
When they swept out of the room, and into the corridor outside, she caught sight of Zack close behind them.
“Zack?” Tilly cried, and turned to Mr Tingay. “Please? I can’t leave Zack,” she whispered quietly.
Harry slowed down and looked carefully at her. He had never seen such long lashes on a person before. Those lashes, when accompanied with those beautiful moss coloured eyes, were a potent combination that seemed to draw him in. They had certainly haunted his dreams over the last week or so, that was for sure. He was so lost in the perusal of her fine attributes that he had to force his attention back to what she had just said.
“We are not leaving Zack,” he assured her. “He is coming with us.”
“Where to? I don’t have anywhere to go,” Tilly protested.
Harry merely smiled at her and carried on walking.
“Mr Tingay?” she persisted.
Harry looked at her. “My name is Harry.”
“Oh, I cannot call you by your first name. It would be highly inappropriate,” Tilly assured him. In spite of the bravado in her words, she tried valiantly to ignore the way her breasts were squashed against his broad chest. They were so close she could feel his heartbeat beneath his pristine white shirt.
In spite of the dark situation they were in, Harry grinned at her. “Inappropriate or not, you call me Harry,” he assured her.
“Harry,” she whispered. She tested the word on her tongue before she nodded once. It felt right; it felt familiar. It also felt scandalous to use it, but she was going to anyway.
Harry smiled and looked down at her. It was incredibly satisfying to see some of the shadows start to lift from her eyes and, for the first time in one very long week, he felt himself start to relax.
He paused when an altercation started in the corridor behind them, and he carefully eased her onto her feet before he turned around. Tension reverberated through him, and he held Tilly protectively behind him as he studied the people who now stood in the corridor behind the group.
It appeared that word had spread quickly that Taylor no long ruled the women’s wing with an iron thumb. People were now completely unperturbed by the fact that she was about, and some of the more vocal residents took the opportunity to throw insults at her as Marcus marched her along the corridor.
Assured that there was not going to be a mass brawl, Harry sighed, and swept Tilly off her feet again.
“I can walk, you know,” she grumbled without any hint of discontent.
She caught the flash of his straight, white teeth as he smiled at her but, thankfully, he made no attempt to put her down. In spite of the fact that he was still very much a veritable stranger to her, she settled against him with a contented sigh; happy to go wherever he chose to take her.
By the time they reached the main hall, Joseph had been joined by three more wardens, and all of the doors, apart from the front door, now stood wide open. Several of the male residents were now in the hallway, and in the process of helping Joseph make sure that none of the wardens disappeared before the jailer’s cart arrived. Several mounds of books and rolls of parchment had been placed beside the door, ready for inspection, along with piles of assorted papers from the governor’s office.
“Couple of knocks on the door, that’s all.” Joseph reported when Harry asked him if anything had happened while they had been away.
“No sign of the governor?” Harry asked with his brows lifted.
Joseph’s gaze met his, and he slowly shook his head.
It was irrelevant where the man was because the Star Elite were now in charge of the poor house. Hopefully, the magistrate would be succes
sful in rounding the governor, and the Board of Trustees, up for questioning and the Star Elite could then get some of the answers they needed.
For the Star Elite, it was more important that the poor house was secured and the wardens removed from being any threat, or danger, to the residents who remained. As a result, the only people who were allowed into the building now was the magistrate, and the prison guards from Battlington, who would keep the place secure until Sir Hugo arrived.
Aware that an almost deafening silence had settled over the main entrance hall, Harry carried his precious cargo over to the front door where he carefully lowered her to her feet. However, he absolutely refused to let her go completely, and left a hand on her waist to keep her beside him.
Together, they watched Marcus move to stand in front of everyone, and a hushed silence fell over the room.
“Right, listen up everyone because I am only going to say this once. We are representatives of His Majesty’s government, and are taking control of this building with immediate effect,” Marcus announced flatly. “You are all relieved of your duties with immediate effect, and are going to be taken to the jail in Battlington, where you will be questioned about your part in what has been going on around here.”
“Why is the governor not at his desk?” Joseph demanded.
“He is never at his desk,” one of the wardens grumbled, and glared back at Masterson when the man told him to shut up. “What? I am right, he isn’t,” the warden protested.
“He is never here,” Able added. “Masterson here runs the men’s quarters, with Cruickshank, when he is on duty. Taylor runs the female quarters.”
Marcus stared at each warden in turn. “Is Cragdale due in today?”
The wardens looked at each other. It was clear from the blank looks and shrugs they all shared that nobody had a clue.
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