Midnight Capers

by Rebecca King

  It was Roger’s next words that stopped them from arguing with him. “It is an order, madam, not a request. For now, until you can prove otherwise, we are holding you on suspicion of making your ward disappear.”

  “What?” Augusta screeched.

  “And I would warn you now that it would be wise of you to not argue with me, or I shall arrest you for causing a disturbance to the other patrons, and hindering our investigation,” Roger warned. With that, he nodded to the inn keeper who went to arrange for the maids to hurriedly pack the women’s belongings.

  “What do we do about Pheony’s things?” Sophie asked.

  “There aren’t any of Pheony’s belongings in the room,” Carlotta replied.

  “Well, why didn’t you say that earlier, you stupid girl?” Augusta snapped. “You could have saved us at least half an hour.”

  By ‘us’, Roger knew that Augusta really meant the Star Elite. “That doesn’t mean anything,” Roger warned. “You could have removed her belongings yourself to make it look as if she ran away. Until we can find her, alive or otherwise, you are to be held here under the suspicion of murder. I warn you now, ladies, that if you cause too much of a disturbance to the other patrons in this establishment, I will move you to the local gaol until we find Miss Storley.”

  “Star Elite or not, you shall be hearing from my solicitor about this,” Augusta hissed.

  “Feel free to do as you wish,” Roger replied nonchalantly. “For now, you will do as I wish. Now go. All of you. And don’t come out of the parlour again without my express permission.”

  With an affronted sniff, Augusta bustled off to the private parlour.

  None of the Star Elite moved until they were alone in the hallway.

  “Now what?” Luke demanded.

  “Now, we have to get into Dean’s room and hope to God that the woman isn’t in there,” Roger hissed.

  Before anybody could move, they were joined by an uncomfortable looking gentleman who was dressed from head to toe in black.

  “Can I help you?” Roger demanded.

  “Sir, are you the gentlemen who are looking for Pheony Storley.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Roger slid a worried look at his colleagues. “What do you know of it?”

  Bert looked worriedly over his shoulder at the noise coming from the private parlour. He recognised Augusta’s voice and stepped closer to the men from the Star Elite, but only so he could lower his voice. “I think I know what happened to her.”

  Roger felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. With a heavy sigh, he waved his second interviewee into the empty tap room and settled down at a table to hear what he had to say.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dean grumbled when muffled thumps and bumps dragged him out of the deepest, most satisfying sleep he could ever remember having enjoyed. He was relaxed, wonderfully warm, content, and didn’t want to even think of investigating where all the noise was coming from. Occasionally, he heard a door slam, and murmuring coming from directly outside the door to his room but didn’t bother to pay attention to what was being said. He knew where he was and wasn’t going to move until he absolutely had to.

  One quick peek at the familiar door to his room reminded him that he was at the tavern and had spent the better part of the night drinking with Hamish.

  And with the stunning young woman too.

  Dean lay perfectly still and reluctantly allowed memories of the night before to resurface. He stretched a little and tried to ignore them for just a little while longer, but they probed and pestered him until he was forced to open his eyes again. It was then that he realised that he was not alone.

  Slowly, gently, he turned over and mentally cursed when he saw the tousled head poking out from beneath the covers. One quick peek beneath those thick covers warned him that his worse suspicions were indeed true – she was naked.

  Jesus, what have I done?

  But Dean knew exactly what he – they – had done. Now that the worst of the alcohol’s effects had faded, the cold reality of what he had done last night began to filter through his sleep fogged mind. It hit him from all angles and left him with nowhere to hide. He had slept with a young woman he barely knew, and she had been innocent. Unless he was completely wrong about her, she was a well-bred young woman, not some harlot who was looking for a few easy coins. Worse, he hadn’t made any attempt to use proper precautions.

  “Jesus,” Dean hissed. He mentally cursed again when the young woman mumbled something in her sleep and turned over until she was facing him.

  Dean knew that he had two choices. He could either stay where he was and find out what in the Hell she had thought she was doing last night, and if she understood what that meant for her, for them. Or he could quietly sneak out and hope to God he never had a reason to venture into this part of the county ever again. While his conscience pricked him mercilessly, he slid carefully out from under the covers. He was oblivious to the chill within the room as he quickly gathered his clothing and dressed, all the while keeping a wary eye on the door and the bed. Dean had to dress because clothing gave him some defence against the reality of the new world that he was in.

  Now that he was wide awake and able to think a little more clearly, there was a heck of a lot of noise coming from the hallway outside the door. Someone was knocking on doors, demanding that the patrons get up and out of bed, but the mumbling that followed the answered doors was unintelligible. With a wary eye on the bed, Dean edged toward the door but when someone thumped on it, he made no attempt to answer it. Instead, he tipped his head to try to listen to the murmured voices in the other rooms.

  The loudness of the thumps on the door made Pheony sit bolt upright in bed. She stared blankly at the cold and empty fireplace while she willed her pounding heart to settle. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, and that she was not alone in the room.

  And that this is not the room I should have shared with Carlotta.

  “Ah, you are awake at last,” Dean murmured.

  Pheony gasped and clutched the sheets to her bared chest as she stared at him with wide eyes. She was struck by her vulnerability being naked beneath the sheets, but her clothing was on the floor. It didn’t help that he was dressed and ready to take on a new day whereas she felt tousled and unkempt as if she had spent the night under a hedge.

  “Did you sleep well?” Dean asked.

  They both turned to look at the door when someone thumped on it again. Pheony gasped when Dean stepped toward the door.

  Dean hesitated with one hand on the door latch. “Is there a problem?”

  “No. Just-” Pheony waved a hand down the covers to indicate her position in the bed. If Dean answered the door, whoever was in the corridor would be able to see her sitting naked in the bed covered by nothing but a white bedsheet. “Please don’t.”

  It was then that she thought she heard someone in the hallway mention her name. Sensing that she was going to have to leave, Pheony edged to the end of the bed and looked for her clothing. “Turn your back,” she ordered Dean when she realised that he was watching her closely.

  Dean lifted his brows. He wanted to remind her of what they had shared last night but suspected that it was probably best not to. Dutifully, he turned his back and stared blankly at the door while he listened to the rustling of her clothing behind him.

  “You can turn around now,” Pheony muttered when she was dressed. Her cheeks were florid with acute embarrassment. Having never been in this situation before she wasn’t sure what she should say or do. She wasn’t sure how to extricate herself from this morning-after situation without alerting the people in the hallway that she was there, or Dean to the problem with Augusta downstairs. “Please don’t answer the door.”

  “I can’t stay in here all morning. From the sound of that lot, the maids are cleaning the rooms and want everyone to leave.” Dean remembered then that he was supposed to be at a meeting. He glanced at his fob watched and cursed virulently when h
e saw the time. “Jesus, I am late. I shouldn’t have slept in.”

  His head ached, his stomach rumbled, and he suspected he was going to be sick soon, but he had to get out of the room. He couldn’t offer this woman anything because he suspected that she was in trouble and he didn’t want to get involved. Not now. Not ever.

  “Look, I have to go. You can stay here for as long as the maids are happy for you to remain in the room, but I should be in Brampton right now. My boss is going to have a conniption.”

  “Before you go, I have a favour to ask.” Pheony stepped hesitantly toward him, but then realised that venturing anywhere near him was the last thing she wanted to do. A gulf of distance opened between them to the point that she wasn’t sure if she should ask him for help now or not.

  But if I don’t I have to admit that I made a mistake coming to his room last night.

  The sudden urge to cry nearly overwhelmed her. Her chin quivered no matter how much she tried to stop it. Tears gathered on her lashes. She tried blinking them away, but they lingered anyway and threatened to overspill. She knew that if she didn’t tell him what she wanted, and quickly, she was going to end up with more problems than she could deal with because she was starting to suspect that the people in the hallway were looking for her. But tousled, aching, hurt and confused, Pheony studied the man she had shared a bed with last night and was struck by the fact that he was still a stranger. Further, in contrast to her inner turmoil, Dean was calm and in control, and being horribly distant with her.

  So distant, in fact, that it is difficult to believe that what we shared just a few short hours ago really happened.

  “What is it?” Dean prompted when he saw her lips quiver. He knew that he was being cold with her, that there was no crime against a hug, or a brief kiss or two before they parted, but his boots were rooted to the spot. Wild horses couldn’t get him to cross the room to her because he sensed that if he did then he wasn’t likely to leave. It unsettled him more than anything ever had. “Out with it. I have to go.”

  “I need your help to get out of here without anyone seeing me.”

  Dean scowled at her. It took a few moments for his sluggish mind to remember what she had told him last night. “Look, the other patrons aren’t going to care about what we have been up to. The maids will probably think that we arrived together.”

  “I doubt it,” Pheony snorted. “Most of them watched me arrive.” She didn’t dare mention the commotion Augusta had made.

  Dean sighed. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to help me get out of here.”

  “To go where, exactly?” Dean folded his arms and propped one brawny shoulder against the wall, effectively blocking her exit. “And tell me why I should help you?”

  Pheony sighed and repeated: “I need to leave, but I don’t want anybody to see me.”

  Dean raked her with a careful look but forced himself to ignore the stirrings of his body. The instant he saw the nipped in waist, the delicate curve of her hip beneath her skirt, he was struck by the memories of what she had looked like beneath the sheets, beneath him. When his body began to respond, he muttered a curse and forced himself to focus on the noise still coming from the hallway.

  “I think your mother is calling you,” he murmured when Pheony’s name was shrieked in a way that everyone in the tavern had now become familiar with.

  “I need to escape her.”

  Dean hated to ask: “How old are you?” He almost wept with relief when she said: “Three and twenty.”

  “So why do you want to escape her? I know she is unpleasant, but she is clearly concerned about you.”

  “I don’t want to go back to the house with her.”

  “Does she hurt you?” Dean didn’t move while he watched the changing expressions on her face and knew that she was contemplating what she could tell him.

  “I am nothing more than a slave,” Pheony whispered. “I need to get away from her.”

  “Does she hurt you?” He would arrest the woman if Pheony said that she did.

  “Not physically, no,” Pheony murmured.

  “Then I can’t help you. I would recommend that you creep back to your room and tell her that you went out for an early morning walk or something but went further than you thought. She will be annoyed that you didn’t leave her a note but will stop causing such a ruckus. Then you can go home with her where you belong.”

  “I can’t,” Pheony cried, hurt that he wasn’t going to help after all.

  “Well, you can’t stay here. It isn’t fair on all the patrons to be thrown into such chaos by someone like her. She is causing such a commotion that everyone’s morning is disrupted. You are causing the commotion, Pheony, because everyone is looking for you.”

  “It isn’t my fault. The inn keeper can throw her out if he doesn’t want her here,” Pheony replied, wishing he would. “Why won’t you help me?”

  “Because I am not able to get involved in your domestic problems.”

  “Is it because of what happened?” Pheony gulped. She felt sick and began to shake with nerves when she looked at the bed.

  “It was a mistake,” Dean announced flatly. “I am sorry. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  Pheony stared at him and felt a dull ache start to build within the centre of her chest. It made each breath feel heavy as if drawn out of her soul. She struggled to breathe so much that the room began to swirl and fade. It was then that she realised that she had forgotten to have anything to eat yesterday. Breakfast yesterday was the last meal she had eaten. Pale, she stumbled over to a seat and sat down only to have an unfamiliar discomfort remind her of why he was apologising. Struggling to keep her hurt off her face, she stared coldly back at him.

  “Tell me something,” Dean whispered, edging close enough to sit in the seat opposite her. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  Pheony wondered what he would do if she said that she was, but she couldn’t lie to him. It took her a moment to think of something to say. It was evident that he wasn’t going to help her, so she had to stand alone in her escape and hope that she didn’t cross paths with either him or Augusta ever again.

  “Do you know something? I have made a terrible mistake as well. I don’t know what happened,” Pheony whispered woodenly. “I have to go.” She looked at the door but when the loud thumping on it started again, she turned to the window.

  It was her worried look at the window that prompted Dean to lunge out of his chair. With a heavy sigh, he stalked over to the door and yanked it open. He glared at the harried looking inn keeper and mentally cursed when the man stood on tiptoe to peer past him into the room.

  “What?” Dean growled. “I hope to God you don’t wake your patrons up like this every morning.”

  “A young woman has gone missing, sir. Have you seen her?”

  “I have just gotten out of bed, sir. Why would I see the damned chit?” Dean drawled.

  The inn keeper blinked at him, but his gaze fell to the bed. It was clear to Dean that the man didn’t believe him for a second. “I haven’t seen her, so stop bothering me.”

  “But the woman’s guardian is downstairs and wants to make sure that she is all right.”

  “That old hag who has been screeching for her all evening yesterday like she was summoning a servant is the young woman’s guardian?” Dean lifted his brows and watched the inn keeper grimace. “God in Hell, I feel sorry for her and so should you. Do yourself a favour, sir, and understand that if the young woman wants to escape that old dragon, we can hardly blame her, can we?”

  “She is threatening to call the magistrate, sir,” the inn keeper warned, his gaze scouring every inch of the room he could see over Dean’s shoulder.

  “Then she can explain to him why she didn’t keep a better eye on her ward, eh? It isn’t my concern.” Dean went to close the door because he sensed movement behind him, but the inn keeper edged closer until the toe of his boot was just across the threshold of the door, effectiv
ely stopping Dean from closing the door on him. Dean’s hardened gaze met his.

  “I understand that you are one of the Star Elite, sir.”

  “We don’t get involved with domestic problems,” Dean informed him flatly. “Now, unless you have reason to believe that the old woman killed this Pheony, the young woman’s disappearance is a matter for the magistrate.” Dean went to close the door but then hesitated. “Has she done something wrong?”

  “Despite disappearing you mean?”

  “The old hag isn’t claiming that this Pheony has stolen something?”

  The inn keeper blinked. “She didn’t strike me as the kind of young woman who would be a thief, sir. Now the old dragon-” He shrugged as if to say that she matronly woman was the kind who would.

  “Let me know if you find her,” Dean ordered but with little interest. “I am going to leave soon, though. I have a meeting to attend.”

  He closed the door on the inn keeper and turned around only for his gaze to be captured by something on the bed. Edging closer, Dean stared down at the blood stains on the sheets, and mentally cursed. It was a stark reminder in its purest form that Pheony was innocent in many ways.

  “Look,” he began but when he looked around for her, Dean was stunned to find himself alone in the room. She had gone. It seemed such an improbable feat but then the empty window made it clear that it wasn’t impossible.

  Racing across the room, Dean shoved his head out of the window and cursed fluidly when he found her dangling from the windowsill, trying desperately to get a foothold in the brickwork so she didn’t fall.

  Pheony cursed fluidly that her tears blurred her eyes. She tried to blink them out of the way, but they kept returning.

  “Just what in the Hell do you think you are doing?”

  Pheony almost hated him. There was a laziness in his drawl above her that left her in no doubt that he seemed to find her predicament quite amusing.

  Whereas I, fool that I am, hurt that he doesn’t care. I like him. A lot.