"Do you think you'll catch him?"
"There's a good chance. Try not to worry."
"Doctor, how is she?" Duncan asked as the policeman left.
"Very fortunate. I'm Doctor Blake, by the way."
"Duncan Rhys-Davies. Nice to meet you, and thank you for coming."
"Brittany, you have no concussion, and except for a headache you should be fine. Take a couple of these if you need them, and keep those scrapes on your hands clean."
"You can give them to me," Duncan said, reaching for the pill bottle and the doctor's card. "I'll be taking care of her."
"Good. She shouldn't be alone, and don't hesitate to get in touch if there are any problems."
"Thank you very much," Duncan said, rising to his feet. "Please send your bill to me. Here's my business card."
As Harry escorted the doctor from the room, Duncan sat back down and brought Brittany into his arms.
"You poor thing. When we get home you need to tell me how this happened to you."
"I should never have left the hotel with a stranger," she whimpered. "I'd been drinking. I wasn't thinking straight. This is a nightmare. My bag had all my stuff. My money, my passport, everything."
"Nothing that can't be replaced, but it may not come to that. You heard the policeman. He sounded confident this thug will be caught."
"Miss Carter, I'm so dreadfully sorry," Harry declared, walking back in. "This should never have happened. The security of our guests is a top priority. We have CCTV in and around the hotel. I'm sure this chap, whoever he is, will be apprehended very quickly, and the hotel will find a way to make this up to you."
"Please call me Brittany. From the moment I arrived, you've been amazing."
"Will you be staying? I can arrange—"
"Excuse me for interrupting," Duncan interjected. "Brittany will be coming home with me, right, Brittany?"
"Yes, definitely, yes."
"Then please allow me to have your suitcase packed and brought down," Harry offered, then taking a breath, he added, "I don't mean to overstep, but may I say, I'm so pleased this horrible ordeal appears to have ended happily."
"Yes, thank goodness," Brittany replied with the shadow of a smile. "I can't say I'm glad it happened, but I'm very grateful with how things have worked out."
* * * * * * * * * *
A short time later Brittany's suitcase arrived, and Harry escorted them out to Duncan's car, but before Duncan pulled out into traffic he reached for Brittany's hand. Holding it gently, he brought it to his lips.
"My precious girl, I've been so worried."
"Are you very angry?"
"I was, but now I'm just incredibly relieved, and I can't wait to get you home."
"Duncan, I believe what you said in your text, and I'm sorry. I jumped to the worst possible conclusion."
"You should never have witnessed what you did. When you're feeling better I'll explain the whole thing, then you can tell me what happened tonight," he said, releasing her hand and pulling away from the curb.
"There's nothing much to tell. I'd had three glasses of champagne, and I know that doesn't sound like much, but I'd had nothing to eat all day and the alcohol went straight to my head. Anyway, this very well-dressed man came up and asked if I'd like to join him for dinner. I was so upset and muddled, I said yes."
"But how did you end up in an alley?"
"He said it was a short cut to a French restaurant, and we could go in through the kitchen because he knew the owner and the chef."
"If you didn't have a bandage on the side of your head, I'd tan your gorgeous bottom."
"Yes, I know," she murmured. "I was stupid."
"You must be starving, or has the drama killed your appetite?"
"I don't feel hungry, but I feel shaky. Maybe not eating is one of the reasons."
"I'll rustle something up. Maybe soup and a crumpet. How does that sound?"
"That sounds wonderful, and I'm desperate for a shower."
"I'm sure you are," he said, slowing down and turning into his garage. "That's strange. The lights are on in my office. I didn't go in there when I came home." Closing the garage door behind him, he was about to climb from the car when a disturbing thought crossed his mind. "Brittany, where's the envelope I gave you, the one with my address and the key?"
"It was in my...oh, no! My bag. Does that mean—?"
"Do you have that card the police officer gave you?"
"Yes, right here," she said, pulling it from her pocket.
"Get in touch with him, tell him you're in the garage at my house, and the man who attacked you might be inside. I'm going to pop my head in and see if I hear anything."
"Duncan! No! Wait for the police to arrive."
"I'm just going to step in the hallway. Ring him and stay put."
As he left the car and disappeared into the house, she grabbed her phone and placed the call, only to discover she had no signal. Quickly climbing out, she walked around holding the phone in the air, but having no luck, she opened the door a crack and peered down the hallway. Everything was quiet. His office was the closest room, and creeping down the passage, she moved inside and locked the door behind her.
* * * * * * * * * *
Not hearing anything when he'd entered the house, Duncan had poked his head in the office. With the display case open, and the cricket bat leaning against the wall, he didn't know if the thief had left it behind or was still in the house. Stealthily climbing the stairs, he entered the bedroom just as Bert successfully opened the decoy cabinet and discovered the cash and jewelry.
"You little beauty! I knew I'd find something in here!" Bert exclaimed.
Duncan froze.
"Money and a diamond necklace! I knew it would be worth the—aargh! What the fuck? My eyes. My bloody eyes."
Knowing the intruder had tripped the booby trap and been blasted with the dye, Duncan darted into the bathroom and looked through the open door. Bert was scrambling to his feet, his face purple, his eyes squeezed shut, and his arms flailing wildly. Though the door from the wardrobe into the hall had no lock, the door leading from the bathroom did. Creeping up and closing it, he pushed in the button at the back of the handle.
* * * * * * * * * *
Blinded and stumbling around in search of something to wipe the stinking mess from his eyes, Bert happened to stagger against a row of hanging shirts. Feeling the soft cotton fabric, he wiped it urgently across his face. He was finally able to squint, and desperate to splash his eyes with water he headed for the bathroom.
"Why is this locked?" he growled, pulling on the handle. "Bloody hell, did I lock it? I don't even remember closing it."
He'd dropped his wallet of tools in front of the cabinet, and as he turned to fetch them, he noticed the second door. Lurching across the small space, he was relieved to find it unlocked.
Duncan waited on the other side, but Bert was a tough, career criminal. As he entered the hallway, Duncan tried to push him against the wall, but in spite of his stinging eyes, Bert plunged his fist into Duncan's stomach. Doubling-over and toppling to the ground, Duncan tried desperately to breathe, while Bert bolted down the stairs, but as he reached the foyer he realized he'd left behind Brittany's bag with all his takings.
He paused.
"It's not smart to mess with a country girl from South Carolina."
Spinning around, he saw his pretty, petite victim swinging the cricket bat. Before he could react the heavy wood landed between his legs.
Letting out a roar of pain, he grabbed his crotch and fell to the floor.
"If you fucking move I'll flatten your balls into pancakes and stuff them up your ass."
Staring at him rolling on the floor in abject agony, she knew he wasn't going anywhere, and desperately worried about Duncan, she threw the bat aside and raced up the stairs calling his name. Reaching the landing and hearing a groan, she turned and spied him curled up on the carpet.
"Duncan, oh, my, God, Duncan," she said breathlessly, running to his side. "Are you okay? What did he do?"
"My phone. Call Catherine," he managed, his voice a hoarse whisper, then suddenly grabbed her arm. "Brittany, please don't go back next week."
But the sound of sirens interrupted them, and seconds later the police burst into the house.
"We're up here," she called, "at the top of the stairs."
"I want you to stay," Duncan panted. "Brittany, I love you."
"Duncan," she murmured, her eyes filling with tears, "I love you too. I love you so much it hurts."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Catherine was stretched out on her couch having a glass of wine and watching television when her phone chirped. She loved birds, and her ring tone sounded just like her budgies. Muting the television and lifting it off the side table, she was slightly alarmed to find Duncan's name on the screen. Rarely did he ring her in the evening.
"Hi, I hope everything's all right."
"Is this Catherine?"
The voice was soft and feminine.
"Yes, who's this? Why are you ringing on Duncan's phone?"
"He asked me to call you. My name is Brittany Carter."
"Brittany? Yes, he's mentioned you. Has something happened?"
"He'll be fine, but he was attacked and taken to the hospital. The police are driving me there now."
"Attacked? Oh, no. Where? How? Which hospital?"
"Mercy General. He ran across an intruder in the house."
"Tell him I'll be there shortly, and thank you."
Catherine hurried to her bedroom to change. Duncan wasn't just her older brother, he'd been her protector and confidant throughout her life. When they were children, he was the one who would comfort her when she scraped her knee. He helped with homework through school, and offered sage advice when she began dating. Jumping in her car and zipping through the traffic, she pulled into the emergency parking area and jogged across to the entrance. Pushing through the doors, she immediately spotted a police officer and an attractive, dark-haired young woman deep in conversation.
"Excuse me, I'm Catherine, Duncan's sister. Are you Brittany?"
"Yes," Brittany replied, rising to her feet and staring at her in shock.
The beautiful woman calling herself Catherine looked exactly like Jane.
"How is he?"
"He'll be fine," Brittany managed, completely bewildered.
"I'm Sergeant Jeffries," the police officer interjected. "He was punched in the stomach. We thought it best to have him checked out."
"Absolutely. Can I see him?"
"He'll be out in a few minutes," the officer replied. "Brittany, as I was saying, I'll return your things as quickly as possible. It shouldn't take too long."
"Thank you for everything. I'm so glad you arrived when you did."
"Just doing my job, and now I'd best be going, I have loose ends to tie up before I can call it a night."
As he strode from the waiting room, Brittany sat back down, and Catherine settled in the chair next to her.
"It looks like you've been hurt too," she remarked. "That's quite a bandage on the side of your head, and your hands are scraped up. What happened?"
"It's a long story and I'll explain, but first, may I ask, do you also go by the name Jane?"
"My goodness, yes I do, but only Duncan calls me that. If he didn't tell you, how did you know?"
"I happened to see it on a photograph, and I wasn't sure I should ask him about it, but why does he call you Jane?"
"The story's a bit embarrassing. He'd get in trouble for calling me Jane when we were growing up, but that didn't stop him. Jane is short for Plain Jane."
"I don't understand. You could be a supermodel."
"I'm not sure about that, but thank you. There was a time when quite a few boys were chasing me, and Duncan thought I was getting a bit full of myself, so he'd tease me and call me Plain Jane."
"I can totally see him doing that," Brittany said with a grin.
"You look very pale. Are you sure you're all right? Maybe you should see a doctor too."
"I'm fine. This has been quite a night."
"I can only imagine. I was panicked driving over here. Duncan has always been my Knight in Shining Armor. If anything ever happened to him…"
"He's become my Knight too," Brittany murmured with a sigh. "He's the most amazing man."
"Yes, he is. Can you tell me what happened?"
"I don't know where to begin."
"Just the highlights. You two can fill me in on the details later."
"Okay, let's see, we had a misunderstanding and I bolted, got a bit drunk at Claridges, and ended up in an alley being mugged. In my bag was Duncan's address and a key to the house. The hotel called Duncan to pick me up, and while he was gone my attacker broke in. He was still there when we got back."
"That's quite a story."
"Everything that happened is my fault," Brittany groaned. "I just hope I can find a way to make amends."
"When it comes to misunderstandings there's usually plenty of blame to go around."
"I don't think that's the case this time."
"Miss Carter?"
"Yes, doctor," Brittany said anxiously, jumping to her feet as the doctor approached. "How is he?"
"He can go home. He'll feel almost normal in the morning. He just needs a good night's rest, and from the looks of it, so do you. You're very pale."
"I'm exhausted and starving, but I'll be fine."
"There you are," Catherine exclaimed, Duncan appearing in a wheelchair being pushed by an attractive nurse.
"Catherine," he said with a smile, though his voice was solemn. "Thank you for coming."
"What did you think you were doing, fighting with a criminal like that?" Catherine demanded. "Honestly, I feel like punching you myself."
"He took me by surprise. I admit it wasn't my finest hour."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. You just scared the hell out of me," she said earnestly, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll bring the car around."
"Aren't we a pair," Brittany remarked as Catherine hurried away. "I guess we're going to be looking after each other." Then lowering her voice, she murmured, "I understand about Jane now, well, almost everything."
"I knew you would when you saw her, but we'll talk later."
"I see a car pulling up," the nurse announced. "I'll wheel you out there."
"I can walk."
"I'm sure you can, but I have to follow the rules."
"I can't wait to get home," Brittany said with a weary sigh as they started to the door. "We both need a very long sleep."
* * * * * * * * * *
During the drive home, Brittany filled in the details of her harrowing ordeal in the alley, and Duncan revealed how he thought he'd have the element of surprise over the thief.
"He was so fast. I swear he must have been throwing the punch walking out the door."
"The whole night sounds like one big nightmare," Catherine remarked. "You're both very lucky. Um, Duncan, why is there a policeman outside your door."
"Maybe he's waiting in case that creep has partners," Brittany suggested.
"Good guess," Catherine said, rolling to a stop. "I'm coming in. I'll fix you two a cup of tea and some supper."
"You don't need to do that," Duncan argued. "It's late. You should go home."
"Nope, you need me. Shoot, there's nowhere to park. I'll just leave the car here. That policeman can keep an eye on it."
"A cop watching an illegally double-parked car," Brittany piped up from the back seat. "I love it, but, uh, I need to go inside. I don't feel so good."
"After everything you've been through it's a wonder you're still on your feet at all," Duncan replied, gingerly unfastening his seat belt. "Maybe you should come in, Catherine. She hasn't eaten all day, and I'm not up to puttering around the kitchen."
"You could
n't have stopped me anyway, but I'm glad we're in agreement."
They climbed from the car, but as they walked up the steps, Catherine flashed the young constable a warm smile.
"Evening, everyone. The Sergeant asked me to stay here until you returned. We couldn't lock the place up, and we didn't want to just leave it."
"How very kind of you," Catherine said, lightly touching his arm. "Would you mind terribly watching my car for a few minutes? There's nowhere to park, and I have to make sure these two are settled before I go home."
"Be happy to, Miss," the constable replied as Brittany and Duncan moved inside.
"Thank you ever so much. Here are the keys in case you need them."
Standing in the foyer, Duncan discreetly dropped his lips to Brittany's ear.
"Plain Jane in action."
"I see what you mean."
As Catherine walked in and closed the door behind her, Duncan poked his head in his office to check on his priceless desk. To his great dismay he discovered the cricket bat was missing.
"The police must have put it somewhere," Brittany said tentatively. "That's what I used on him, the mugger I mean, Charles, or whatever his name is."
"You did what?" Duncan asked, staring at her in shock. "I thought the police caught him on his way out. What the hell happened?"
"Can I explain over a cup of tea? I really don't feel right."
"I'll put the kettle on," Catherine said quickly, "and I'll tell our fearless guard I'm making him a cup as well. That should keep him happy."
"I'm dying to hear about this," Duncan continued. "You actually clonked him with my cricket bat? How the blazes did you do that?"
"Let's wait until Catherine comes back so I don't have to repeat myself. I'm wiped out. If I wasn't so hungry I'd go right up to bed."
"You," he whispered, pausing to gently pull her into his arms, "are the most astounding woman I've ever known."
WET 2: London: A Steamy Holiday Romance Page 8