Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
I curled it in instinctively to cradle it, when I should have used it to help find my footing. I crashed into a wall, teetering and trying to pull the thing off my head.
That was when I went flying.
Down the stairs. The thing on me sailed off (though, it felt more like it was pulled off), and thank God, I somehow managed to grab a railing. It was this which stopped me from falling down the entire flight of stairs.
I’d had my breath knocked out of me, though, and the tumble hadn’t felt good. I had to take a moment to get my wind back.
I looked around, and no one was there. Not a soul to help me by grabbing that blanket.
Another shiver snaked along my spine.
I was sitting on a tread when I heard a crashing of footsteps above me, looked up, and was blinded by a phone’s light.
I put my hand out to guard against it when I heard, “Bloody hell, are you hurt?”
Richard.
“Go,” I told him then pointed to the still-opened door I’d been shoved through. “He went that way.”
“He? Who?”
“He. She. I don’t know. I just know I saw them, I heard them, and they went that way.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to leave—”
“Richard!” I yelled. “Go!”
His back shot straight. “Assure me you’re all right.”
“I’m fine. Go.”
He wasted another ten valuable seconds.
Then he went.
We were all in the Pearl Room.
Portia sat on the sofa across from me, giving me big eyes anytime I caught hers.
Like right now.
My attention shifted, and I watched Lady Jane pinch some invisible lint off her wool trousers from where she sat, legs crossed, next to Portia. Cool as a cucumber, even though I questioned its existence, she flicked the lint away.
The men were standing: Richard and Daniel scowling at me, Ian prowling the room.
Newsflash, whoever it was got away.
And whoever it was, was not a member of staff, unless they’d returned on the sly.
All others were accounted for and had been busy doing their duties when all this was going on.
I couldn’t take this silence, of which there had been about fifteen minutes of it after Ian gathered us here.
So I started, “Ian—”
“Quiet!” he bellowed.
I fell silent.
Not because he told me to.
Because he’d never shouted at me.
I didn’t like it.
He immediately went back on his command when he then asked, “Have you bloody gone mad?”
“I—” I started.
“Chased after some deranged lunatic who’s trying to terrify us in our own fucking house,” he finished for me.
“It’s just—”
“Incredibly foolish?” he suggested.
I crossed my arms on my chest. “Since you’re intent to carry on this conversation by yourself, I’ll let you do it,” I stated crossly.
“You fell down the fucking stairs, Daphne.”
“Only a few.”
“Only a few?” His tone was incredulous. He leaned my way. “Are you insane?” he roared.
I remembered I was going to be silent while he worked his shit out, thus, I went back to that.
“So, do I have this straight, darling?” he asked sarcastically. “You heard someone in the wall. You, by yourself, with no weapon or training to say, do a bloody fucking thing if you caught this person, chased after him through the staff passageways, of which you have experience traversing only one in fucking dozens. And you ended up falling down only a few stairs when you could have tumbled down the whole fucking lot and broken your goddamned neck!”
He ended that shouting again, so I kept silent.
“I’ll repeat,” he said dangerously, “have you gone bloody mad?”
I changed my mind about silence. “If I caught them, or at least saw them, we’d know who was behind this.”
“I’m finding out who’s behind this,” he hissed. “I don’t need you racing through the walls in assistance.”
I glared at him.
He scowled at me.
Daniel entered the conversation at this point.
“It was bloody stupid,” he groused.
“Daniel!” Portia cried.
“Lovely, it was,” he spat.
“She was trying to help,” Portia defended me.
“She should have found one of us men,” Daniel proclaimed.
Portia’s face instantly went red, and she lost it. “One of you men? So a little ole woman can’t take down the bad guy?”
“She fell down the stairs,” Daniel shot back.
“I know. And I don’t like that either. But is she now to be tarred and feathered because she was trying to do the right thing?” Portia retorted.
“What’s in question is if it was the right thing,” Daniel returned.
“Oh my God,” Portia snapped then looked at me. “Men!”
At this point, Lady Jane rose.
“All right, children. What’s done is done. We can’t undo it.” She looked down at me. “Although I applaud your bravery, I can’t commend it, because it was indeed not exactly intelligent to chase after the villain in that manner, and you could have hurt yourself badly.” She turned to Ian. “And I understand this frightens you, and being male, fear is expressed through anger. But, my boy, you need to get a handle on it before you say something you regret.” Onward to Daniel. “You need to stay out of it.” Then to Portia, “Your support of your sister is lovely, dear.”