by Georgia Rose
I concentrated on my recovery for the next couple of weeks. I had to go to the doctor each day and found I needed to rest more. I was on my own some of the time as Trent had to go to work occasionally to keep everything running smoothly on the estate, although I knew everyone was helping him out where they could. Otherwise he was with me, and I was concerned for him. I knew he must be grieving but because of the circumstances I thought he felt he shouldn’t show me how much he was hurting. I could understand this, but now knew from experience it was better to have someone to share this with, and I tried to be there for him, knowing only time would help.
The day eventually came when Cavendish and Grace arrived to pick us up and we set out on the journey to attend Zoe’s funeral. I was still not convinced I should be going and felt extremely uncomfortable doing so, worrying about who would be there, worrying about who might take offence that the person responsible for Zoe’s demise had the audacity to show up. However, Trent had made it very clear he needed me to be there with him and Cavendish and Grace were as supportive as always.
The service was at an unremarkable crematorium and there were only a few others in attendance besides us. Trent had discovered Zoe’s parents had both died within only a few months of each other the previous year, and she had no brothers or sisters. It was only this information that had persuaded me to go at all. There was no way I could have attended if any of her family had been there.
We managed to get through it. That’s all you can ever really say about a funeral. It was terribly sad, a wasted young life, and I felt particularly awkward being the reason for that. The other people who came were all doctors or nurses who’d treated her. Some Trent knew, others who had cared for her more recently he didn’t. The doctor who had texted him spoke to us after the service and was kind to me, feeling the guilt along with me as Zoe had slipped from his care in the first place. We briefly discussed why things had gone wrong for her recently, when apparently she’d previously done very well on her medication, but the only explanation he could come up with was that the most recent change in her life might have been the catalyst, and that was the loss of both of her parents.
The day following the funeral I went to the doctor to have the stitches taken out of the wound on my right arm, pleased that at least I had one arm that didn’t need dressing anymore. I was going to be left with a reminder in the form of a four-inch long scar, although whoever had originally stitched me up had made a good job of it, and at least the scar was quite thin. I was already using that arm more or less normally anyway so it would soon be back to its full strength.
My other wound was going to take a lot longer to heal because the damage was more extensive internally. I’d already started some physiotherapy exercises to get the movement back which were excruciating, then I’d need to work on building up the strength again. I was going to be bringing the horses back in soon and hoped that by taking things slowly I’d be able to manage. Trent was not happy with this…so no change there.
Susie had also had her bandage off. Her stitches had dissolved and fur was growing over the wound.
Trent and I were back on track again but since the shooting I thought he was working hard, too hard, on trying to make me happy; it was as though he felt he had to do something to compensate for what had happened. It took time to make him understand and believe that I was fine and all I needed was for him and for us to just be as we were. Slowly he started to relax with me again, his grief and guilt beginning to fade, though I knew only too well how long these things could take.
He got the call we’d both been dreading, telling him he’d have to go away on business for a while, and that night we made love, neither wanting to let the other go but eventually falling asleep curled around each other. I woke to his scent on my skin but my bed empty and I knew this was something I was going to have to get used to.
Trent had left me a present in the form of an iPod on my bedside table which I knew he’d have loaded up with what he considered to be a suitable playlist for me. After my abysmal musical knowledge had revealed itself to him he’d seen it as his duty to start educating me – his words, not mine. Since then I’d teased him about what I considered to be some of his more dubious musical tastes and he reciprocated with my predilection for the maudlin. I placed the iPod on the speaker that morning while getting my breakfast, finding myself soothed by the sound that filled the kitchen.
Grace called to check on me as she, more than anyone, knew how I would be feeling. She suggested I joined everyone that afternoon for tea and cake. In the weeks since the shooting I’d been touched by how many of my friends on the estate had made the time to pop in and see how I was doing and I looked forward to seeing them.
I worked through my jobs steadily, if a little more slowly than before. The hardest thing for me to do was tack up but it felt good to get into my routine and to be back with the horses that had contributed so much to my new-found sense of well-being.
I set off on my first ride out on Regan, Susie following me out of the gate. The day was already hot and I stayed in the woodland, taking advantage of the respite from the sun. I watched Susie snuffling among the undergrowth, realisation dawning as to how relaxed I was now. Susie was as constant as ever but I’d come a long way since arriving here a little over a year ago, never imagining then how much my life would change.
Eva still occupied a large part of my thoughts and Trent encouraged me to talk to him about her, prompting me with questions, and this had made a perceptible change in the way I thought of her, making my memories of her into a more positive experience as she became a natural presence in our life together.
Trent understood my grief but had shown me it was okay to find room in my life for other things as well and we were doing all right. I felt his love surrounding me and I did my best to make him feel the same. We’d been together for such a short time and having already faced such enormous challenges I couldn’t imagine for one moment our future together would be anything other than rocky, but as Carlton had so succinctly put it, we made each other into better people and now that seemed to me to be something worth fighting for.
The End
Before The Dawn
(Book 2 in The Grayson Trilogy)
GEORGIA ROSE
This book is dedicated to Katherine and Patrick – thank you, I couldn’t have wished for better people.
“We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face…we must do that which we think we cannot.”
Eleanor Roosevelt
Chapter 1
He’d been gone a week. Once I hadn’t wanted him around me, now I longed for his return. Strange how things could change, I mused, as I brought the ponies in from the field. Zodiac waited patiently as I turned to close the gate while Benjy cheekily nosed his way into my jacket pocket, searching for treats. I smiled ruefully. The feelings I’d had towards Trent bordered on dislike when I’d first met him more than a year ago. Time and events had changed everything.
It was a cool Sunday evening in early July. The day had consisted of showers interspersed with sunny highlights but not much by way of heat. I finished my yard duties, checked that the horses, Regan and Monty, were settled in their stables, then went over to the cottage.
After showering, a text arrived as I dressed. From Cavendish. It was marked URGENT and asked me to come to the Manor at 20.00 hours for a meeting. A thought flickered through my mind. Just me? Should I be worried? This was an unusual request. Then I realised…if Cavendish was here...? That thought was answered instantly as my phone rang.
“You’re back?” I felt my pulse rise with the anticipation of hearing him.
“I’m back.” Trent’s voice, rich, deep and instantly soothing. “Have you received a text?”
“Yes, what’s going on?”
“You’ll find out soon enough…I was hoping to see you before the meeting, though – any chance you could get here a bit earlier?”
“I’m going to jump in the shower, so come to my apartment.”
“Okay.” Ending the call, I grabbed my keys and left, saying goodbye to Susie who was already curling herself up in her bed as I pulled the door closed behind me.
I drove the pickup to the courtyard at the back of the Manor and parked opposite the door to the gym. I ran up to his front door, knocking on it loudly. It opened immediately and he grabbed my hand, drawing me towards him, hugging me tightly as I wrapped my arms around his still-damp body and breathed him in. I pulled back a little to take a better look, my fingers touching the light covering of dark hair on his chest that tapered as it travelled down the taut line of his stomach before disappearing into the towel slung low around his waist. But I had no chance to say anything as his hands moved up to my face, tilting it towards him. His lips touched mine softly, and as they did I heard him groan and desire overwhelmed us.
Making it out of the entrance hall, I lay in his bed sometime later, gazing at him as our breathing steadied.
“I do love a good homecoming,” he said, grinning back at me.
“What happened?” Trent made out he didn’t know what I was talking about. I indicated the bruising starting to blacken his eye, the similar discoloration down the sides of his ribs.
“Ah...we ran into a bit of resistance,” he admitted. I pulled a face at his understatement and he smiled. “Don’t worry, Cavendish looks much worse than this.” As if that was somehow meant to make me feel better.
He leant over and kissed the soft pink skin that covered the wound on my shoulder. “How’s this doing?”
I shrugged off his concern. “It’s fine, getting better every day.”
“Good.” Trent looked at his watch. “Come on, we’d better not be late.” He leapt up and started to dress.
“So what’s going on?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could, trying to cover the anxiety I felt at being called into a meeting. I was wiggling my way back into my jeans as he paused, then said, “Trouble is heading our way.”
A short while later we walked into Cavendish’s office to find many of the staff from the estate already there. So not just me then, I thought with relief as Trent leant closer and murmured, “Try not to be too angry with me.” Grinning, he let go of my hand and indicated I should sit down on one of the settees where most of the others were already seated. He went on walking up to the desk where Cavendish was standing, greeting people as he went.
I’d been working at the Melton Manor Estate, owned by Lord and Lady Henry Cavendish, as the stable manager for over a year now. As far as the outside world and, until recently, I was concerned the Melton Estate was a family home and productive agricultural enterprise with a staff of around thirty. Although I’d been aware that Cavendish and Trent carried out some sort of work off the estate, it had only been recently, since Trent and I had got together a few weeks ago, that I’d found out the estate actually provided an external force for the Secret Intelligence Services, SIS, or what I knew as MI6, to call upon. And I was already pretty certain that this meeting was not going to be about estate business.
I squeezed in next to Clare Greene who was tying her long blonde hair into a loose plait. As she moved up to let me in she asked if I knew what was going on. I met her inquisitive hazel eyes and shook my head. I was as mystified as she was. I saw her boyfriend, Will Carlton, and the other boys standing in a group a little further away, talking. As I looked from them towards the desk at the far end of the room I noticed a smartly dressed woman wearing a fitted suit, her platinum blonde hair in a severe but stylish bob. She wore dark-rimmed glasses which intensified her rather intimidating look. She reminded me of a bird of prey, possibly a hawk, and I didn’t need to be told who she was. Sharpe. At long last I could put a face to the name. She was Cavendish’s personal assistant and, despite liaising with me by email when I’d joined the staff, she was the one person who worked here that I’d never met.
Greene and I chatted for a few minutes, along with everyone else, the level of noise increasing as the rest of the staff joined us. Anticipation was growing in the room, and I could see the eagerness on some faces that were keen, like me, to find out what was going on.
Someone banged on the desk and silence fell immediately. All heads turned in that direction, ready to listen.
“Good evening,” Cavendish began. “Thank you all for coming at such short notice. I’m going to hand over to Trent for a moment to bring you up to speed with the problem we’re facing, and then I’ll speak further on what action we need to take.”
Trent stepped forward, looking calm, controlled and confident. I was suddenly aware of how little I knew about him, or about what he did, never having seen him in what appeared to be his familiar territory. He instantly commanded everyone’s attention, and by their silence it seemed he had their respect also.
“As you all know to some degree or other, through the work we’ve done with SIS we’ve been brought in to stop the illegal activities of an organisation that has a vast operational network. This organisation originated in Russia, but has now spread throughout all the post-Soviet states. Until recently its activities had been restricted to the same area, but it’s now turned its attention to Britain, along with some other western European countries, and although this is not the usual fodder SIS deal with this threat from overseas can no longer be ignored, which is why we’ve become involved. To date this involvement has consisted mostly of research, both here as well as some work in the field as we build up a picture of what we’re up against.
“In short, the organisation deals in drug and human trafficking, prostitution, kidnapping and extortion. It also supports terrorism by supplying arms to anyone who has the money to buy them. You name it – if they can make money from it, they will do it.
“The organisation is headed by the Polzin family, which is led by several brothers, all of whom have a ruthless reputation. They have large numbers of equally brutal people working for them. Some of them we’ve come up against before so we have an idea of what we’re dealing with. More details will follow at future briefings, but as a warning, if their own people step out of line they are dealt with harshly, so you can imagine what they do to their enemies. I don’t want anyone to be under any illusion as to what we’re facing.” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked round, energy emanating from him. The silence was complete; as if under a spell the whole room held its collective breath. Then he broke the tension, smiled across at Cavendish, and I let my own breath go as he continued.
“Now...despite our current appearance...” He hesitated as laughter broke out, and raised his hand to quell the joshing from the boys. I’d noticed Cavendish was also sporting a black eye, although his bruising extended down his cheek where the skin was broken and his lip split. The room quietened again as Trent continued, “...Cavendish and I have recently had some success, but in the process have ruffled a few feathers. We’ve broken up their network of human trafficking into this country, which has had a knock-on impact for their prostitution business as well. It’s a start, but there’s much more for us to do. We’re working on that, and this is likely to involve more of you coming with us.” I glanced over at the group of boys who appeared to be relishing the prospect, then turned back as Trent was speaking again.
“However, the reason we’ve called you all here is that it seems the Polzin family haven’t taken our interference well, and not being the sort of people to take such setbacks lying down they appear to be intent on retaliation. Through the intelligence-gathering resources at MI6 there has been a credible threat identified as coming from this group, specifically targeted against Cavendish.” A low murmur rose through the room, silenced swiftly as Trent spoke again.
“It’s our understanding that because of his high profile this organisation is targeting him as a kidnap prospect with a view to extorting money from our government, as well as obviously disrupting our efforts against them.” Looks of concern gre
w on the faces of those around me, and at that moment I spotted Grace, Lady Cavendish, who had crept in late and was now perched on a chair next to Mrs F, the cook. Not surprisingly, she looked anxious.
Trent glanced around the room again before he went on. “This is only an initial briefing, and I’m going to hand back to Cavendish shortly, but before I do, I want to be very clear. This type of situation is the reason why we’ve all been brought together. This is what we’ve planned for, this is what we’ve trained for and it is our expectation that you will support us in the actions we’re going to be taking.” He stepped back to a murmur of approval and spontaneous applause, but ignoring that he looked directly across the office and locked his gaze on to mine. I gave him a small smile. I hoped he’d find it a reassuring one, for although I felt a little shaken at what I’d heard, I was also full of pride for him, and Cavendish, for what they were involved in; for what they’d already achieved. I’d had no idea, and could understand why Trent thought I might be angry with him. Leaving me in the dark about his activities was his idea of protecting me.
Cavendish, who clutched a clipboard in one hand, silenced the room again as he started, his delivery more laid-back than Trent’s had been.
“Okay, so Trent’s filled you in with an overview of what we’re dealing with. Can I say at the outset, despite what Trent has just said, if there is anyone who doesn’t want to be involved in what we’re planning in any way, they only have to say. It won’t be a problem.” He paused allowing his words to sink in, giving people an out if they wanted one. Judging by my perception of the feeling in the room I doubted anyone would take it.
Cavendish went on: “Right, we believe it’s likely that if an attack is made against me it will be made here. This would be the easiest place for them to get to me. When I’m away from here I’ll have Trent with me, plus possibly some others among you, so I feel I’ll be adequately covered there. We’ll also use the Apache whenever possible, so it’s unlikely I can be intercepted while travelling.