A Terrible Misunderstanding (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite Book 6)

by Rebecca King

  “We don’t mind helping, do we ladies?” Sissy looked cautiously around the kitchen. “How does one make hot chocolate?”

  Clara rolled her eyes and fought a smile. “I know.”

  “Seeing as Babette was on her own as well, we thought we would round up all of the ladies, so everyone heard your wonderful story together,” Sissy beamed.

  “Only because she is too lazy to visit everyone and keep repeating her news,” Audrey teased ruefully.

  Sissy wrinkled her nose up but didn’t correct her.

  Babette rolled her eyes and took her shawl off with a rueful flick. “I had some sewing to do, but you know how it is. It would be impossible for me to sit at home and sew while you are all here chatting.”

  Sissy beamed. “Besides, when we all heard that you had gotten yourself engaged, we just had to come and see your young man for ourselves, didn’t we?”

  “I am afraid he isn’t here,” Clara gasped weakly.

  “Are you expecting him?”

  Clara jerked from her study of the back door and looked at her friends, who were all waiting for her to answer. She had no idea what they had just asked.

  “Pardon?” she asked blankly.

  “Is he here?”

  Babette clapped her hands and beamed. “Where is he? When will he be here? Oh, what does he look like? I hear that he is ever so handsome, but Edith’s eyesight is a little questionable.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Edith interjected with a scowl. “My eyesight is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I managed to see him quite clearly. His name is Niall something-or-other.”

  Clara blushed. “His name is Niall Farley-Paget, and he hails from London.”

  I can remember his features in fine detail as well.

  But Clara didn’t dare describe him. She would make herself look like some smitten adolescent. Mentally wincing, she began to gather the things they would need and put them onto a tea tray.

  “Anyway, we all thought that rather than have anybody run around to everyone’s house to break the news, we would all come here so that we can hear it from you. We want to know details, my dear,” Babette assured her. “You know, like how long have you known him? Where did you meet him?”

  “How long have you been courting?” Edith demanded.

  “Yes, and why didn’t you tell us about him?” Audrey added.

  “Well, here we are, so you may as well give in and tell us what we want to know,” Sissy urged.

  “You won’t be given a moment’s peace until you tell us everything,” Edith warned.

  “She is nosy and doesn’t want to miss out on all the gossip,” Audrey snorted, pulling a face when Edith threw her a dirty look.

  “I think you had better tell them all,” Flo suggested ruefully from the doorway. She stepped into the kitchen and looked about her with a curiosity which left Clara in no doubt her aunt rarely ventured into it.

  “Yes, tell us all,” Sissy commanded.

  “I just want to know what you are all saying about me,” Audrey declared in a voice that was laden with good humour.

  “Why should anybody want to discuss what you have been up to? We all know what you have done today,” Edith reported. “However, we didn’t have any idea that Clara here was even courting let alone had a young man who is tall and wonderfully handsome.”

  Clara rolled her eyes when Sissy’s delicate face turned dreamy, and she stared blankly off into the distance. Inwardly, Clara was mentally cringing that her lie had come back to haunt her. Now, she either had to dig herself deeper and keep lying or annoy them by telling them the truth.

  I should have told Edith it was a lie as soon as she came to check on me earlier then this would never have happened.

  But it was too late now. While her friends continued their demands for information and began to discuss who had suspected, Clara turned her attention to making the chocolate. It was only when she went to fill the pot that she used to boil water that she realised the water bucket was empty.

  “Oh, no,” she sighed as she stared at the dry bottom of the wooden receptacle.

  She eyed the back door with little enthusiasm but knew that she couldn’t ask one of her guests to accompany her to the well.

  “I won’t be long,” Clara mumbled, but doubted any of her friends heard her given there wasn’t even a lull in conversation.

  Leaving everyone to chat about her suitor, Clara shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed the water bucket. The idea of going outside was one she wouldn’t ordinarily contemplate on a night like tonight. Had she been alone she would have invariably found something else to drink. However, with guests in the house expecting hot chocolate to go with their gossip, Clara had no choice but to don her thickest cloak and unbolt the back door.

  “I must be out of my mind,” she muttered in disgust once she was trudging down the length of the garden.

  Rain pelted down and soaked her through to her skin her within seconds. As she walked, Clara tugged her hood of her cloak up to cover her face before trying, rather unsuccessfully, to hold the edges of the thick material together.

  “Can my life get any more difficult?” she whispered only to wince when the wind snatched her words.

  When she reached the well, Clara slapped the bucket onto the swinging hook, turned the handle, and lowered the bucket into the well until she heard a faint ‘plop’ as it hit the water. Lowering the rope a little more, Clara then shook it before winding the much heavier bucket back up. As she turned the handle, the rustle of movement and the loud snapping of a twig several feet to her left made her freeze. She blinked and stared at the shadows as she was slammed with the memory of what she had seen earlier. Her heart hammered wildly in her ears. She had forgotten all about it because of the ladies’ arrival and the chaos they had brought with them.

  Cautiously, she watched and waited for that figure to emerge. Instinctively, her back straightened in preparation to run. Her eyes widened as she studied the shadows all about her only to find that everything seemed to be moving. Her rational mind tried to reassure her that it was just the strong wind making the trees sway, but she knew it was something more. Something much more. And far more sinister than she had expected it to be. It was not Erasmus. It was someone else.

  The small hairs stood up on the back of her neck as she scented danger, even though she couldn’t see anything. Clara knew someone was outside with her.

  “Niall?” she whispered, hoping beyond hope that it was him come to scare her as he had promised he would do.

  For the first time since she had suspected he was one of the Star Elite, she fervently prayed that he was. That he was watching the house. That he was keeping guard over her. If it wasn’t-

  I have no idea what I am going to do.

  For several moments more, Clara watched the shifting darkness all about her and waited with trepidation to see what emerged. She fervently hoped that the cracking of the twig she had heard had been a falling branch, or an animal, or something equally innocuous.

  “Get a hold of yourself. It is probably nothing. Whoever it was earlier is most probably far away by now,” she whispered, only to wince when she realised how hearing her own voice made her feel isolated, alone, and very, very, vulnerable.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Clara looked at the thin shaft of light filtering out from the edges of the kitchen shutters and felt even more alone. The house seemed a million miles away; far too far away for comfort. More worried now than ever, a somewhat absent Clara cautiously continued to wind the bucket up until it appeared in the open mouth of the well. Removing it from the hook, she turned toward the house only for a dark shadow to suddenly separate from the depths of a large oak tree only a few feet to her right. It was directly opposite where she had heard the cracking of the twig, and so swift that she gasped in horror at the speed in which the man moved.

  Her fear increased tenfold when she realised that it wasn’t Erasmus or Niall. Clara knew she had never met this man before. He w
asn’t a villager. As she watched, he stepped out onto the lawn, blocking her route to the safety of the house now behind him. He was dressed from head to toe in black and buried beneath thick folds of a large hat and a heavy cloak. Whoever he was he was dangerous, of that there could be no doubt.

  Clara began to shake when the man started to move steadily towards her. He wasn’t lunging, as she had expected him to do. Instead, step by firm yet determined step, he was moving closer.

  “Who are you? This is a private garden. You are trespassing. Get out of here. Why are you here? What do you want?” she demanded as she began to back away.

  When the man replied his voice was gruff. “You.”

  Clara forced herself to stop backing away because she realised that he was slowly guiding her further away from the house, her only sanctuary. She contemplated screaming but suspected the wind would stop any noise she made from reaching the women in the house.

  Besides, even if I do scream they won’t be able to do anything except place themselves in danger too. I can’t do that to them.

  Immediately, Clara’s thoughts turned to Niall. His warning still rang loudly in her ears. Was it one of his colleagues doing as Niall had threatened earlier; scaring her into going home and staying there where she belonged? If so, why was he in her garden and doing it at this time in the evening? Was she not even allowed to get water now?

  The more she studied the man before her the more Clara began to suspect he had nothing to do with Niall either. The size and shape of this new stranger, the way he moved, that mumbling voice and stumbling gait, warned her he was nothing to do with the Star Elite. Or was he? Was this man why the Star Elite were in Serpentine?

  Clara risked a quick glance down at her only weapon; the bucket in her hand. She held it tighter before looking up at the stranger still advancing toward her.

  “Just what is going on here?” she murmured more to herself than to him. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

  For each step the man took toward her, Clara was forced to take one more step away from the house. In the back of her mind, she mentally plotted the garden and woods and tried to remember if there were any paths which she could take that would bring her out onto the road, but her mind was blank. Panic had stolen all trace of logic and memory. All she could do was focus on the house over the stranger’s shoulder and try not to cry.

  To her dismay and confusion, once he was about five feet away, the man stopped and, temporarily at least, stood perfectly still. Rather than answer her, he stared straight at her. He was so motionless he might have been one of the trees that surrounded them, but he wasn’t because the trees swayed in the wind while he didn’t.

  Was he trying to panic her into flight? Was he waiting for someone else to join them? Clara wished she knew. She also wished she had the strength to chance a quick look around the garden, but the stranger was far too close, and most probably waiting for her to be distracted so he could lunge toward her.

  While she waited to see what he would do, Clara studied the distance between him and the trees lining the garden. There was more of a gap to his left than his right. She might just be able to squeeze through it, if she used her weapon and took advantage of him being momentarily distracted by the deluge of icy water. It was her only hope of salvation. For a moment, Clara wasn’t at all sure her feet would be able to move. She was so very cold she physically shook, but the fierce shaking that had overwhelmed every fibre of her being was most probably driven more by the rampant fear that threatened to suffocate her. She eyed the well beside her, and immediately side-stepped away from it.

  It was the wrong thing to do. The second she moved, the man lunged toward her. At the same time, another shadow emerged from the trees and surged toward them. With a small squeak of surprise, Clara swung her bucket at the stranger whose fingers tugged at the thick folds of her cloak. Frigid water deluged them both but thankfully made the stranger pause. His blistering curses were fierce as he tried to wipe water out of his eyes, and in doing so inadvertently removed the hood from his head.

  Clara gasped again when she saw a bold head atop spiteful eyes which were narrowed malevolently at her. The first impression she had of him was that he was muscular and mean.

  And he is not here because he has anything to do with the Star Elite.

  Instinct urged her to flee; to get back to the house and run. With her bucket now half empty, Clara had lost some of her weaponry but she used what she did have and threw what was left at the stranger before she tried to dart around him.

  “Get away from me,” she screamed when the stranger side-stepped to position himself directly in front of her again.

  “You are coming with me.” The stranger grabbed her cloak and tugged harder, blatantly ignoring the second man now running toward them.

  “What are you doing? Get off me?” she screamed only for her voice to be snatched by the wind.

  Clara swung her now empty bucket at her assailant and was met with a bitter curse when it landed against him with a resounding thwack. To make her terror complete, rain began to lash down, temporarily blinding her clear view of the garden.

  “Get off me. I am not going with you.” Her panicked gaze flew to the second figure. She could only hope and pray that he wasn’t the thug’s accomplice because she didn’t stand a chance of breaking free of the pair of them.

  “Help!” she screamed as loudly as she could.

  “Shut up,” the man snarled.

  He grabbed a firmer hold on her cloak and proceeded to drag her toward the trees. Clara, digging her heels into the soft grass, slapped at his hands over and over, trying desperately to force him to release the material so she could run for the house. But her slight frame was no match for the might of the heavy-set stranger, who used his weight to force her to follow him. He grunted and cursed as his boots slipped on the soaking wet grass, but was resolutely determined, and succeeded, in dragging her toward the trees.

  “Help!” Clara screamed again.

  She gasped when a flurry of movement flickered in the corner of her eye. To her astonishment, the latest arrival in the garden launched himself at the stranger. Seconds later, the man’s hold on her cloak was released with such swiftness that made Clara stumble backward. She landed on her bottom on the soft grass with a small ‘oomph’ of surprise. For a moment, all she could do was sit there. Even through the noise of the rain, Clara could hear the hideous sound of fists pounding flesh, grunts, and groans as the men wrestled, kicked, punched, and struggled to defeat each other. Eventually, Clara managed to get her sluggish mind to work properly again and realised that she had to make use of their distraction to race for the safety of the house. With a wary eye on them, she tried to lurch clumsily to her feet only for the thug to notice her. He slammed a heavy fist against Niall’s stomach which made Niall double over. With Niall struggling to stand up, the thug turned his attention on Clara.

  “Where do you think you are going?” he snarled, charging toward her.

  “What do you want with me? Who are you? I said no!” Clara tried to run, but her booted feet slid in the mud and her legs became entangled in her dress. With a cry, she realised she was unable to move fast enough to avoid her attacker when he made another grab for her. Clara desperately tried to scramble out of the way anyway.

  “Get up,” the thug commanded as he tugged fiercely on her arm.

  She gasped when a sodden Niall appeared as if by magic before her. Like a Knight in shining armour, he grabbed the stouter man by the collar and landed several heavy punches on him that briefly rendered the thug helpless. The thug seemed to realise that he was going to lose the fight and so resorted to defending himself. When Niall looked at Clara to order her inside, the thug took advantage of his momentary distraction to stumble off toward the bushes, still clutching his aching stomach.

  “Get up,” Niall ordered coldly, his face hard and emotionless. “Get up and go inside.”

  Clara dutifully scrambled to get away from t
he threat he now posed. When he loomed over her as he was Niall too was a total stranger and no less sinister than the thug. There was something about this side of Niall that was harsh, almost brutal. Gone was the softer version of him she had met earlier. In his place was a ruthless fighter; a brutal opponent who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Whether it was the shadows that made him more sinister, or the lethal look in his eye Clara couldn’t quite be sure, but this Niall was overwhelming. He was certainly not a man to be defied right now. Even so, she started to slap at his hands when he reached down to pick her up only to find that she couldn’t fight him off either.

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside,” Niall murmured, purposefully softening his tone so he didn’t scare her anymore. Clara looked absolutely terrified and it made him furious, not least because she looked just as scared of him as she had been of the thug.

  Clara wanted to ignore him but was barraged with an overwhelming connection to Niall that made her want to trust him. Despite her situation, she was aware of the instant thrill of attraction that heightened the tension between them and made her shiver even more; this time with the force of the barely concealed emotion which ruthlessly slammed into her with devastating effect. She knew in that instant that nothing in her life would ever be the same again. She knew in that moment that she would never forget Niall. No matter what happened, Niall would haunt her. He was, without question, the man of her dreams.

  “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Niall demanded.

  Clara shook her head. “What does he want with me? You are here for him, aren’t you? My father sent you, didn’t he?”

  “Just get inside, Clara,” Niall growled, in no mood to explain himself to her. He was painfully aware that with each passing moment he was with Clara, the thug, his quarry, was getting away.

  Clara stubbornly refused to budge. Now that she knew that Niall was one of her father’s men she wasn’t so afraid of him anymore. Instead, she was downright curious.

  “Why won’t you tell me? This involves me, you know,” she protested.