Shattered Dreams by Rebecca King Page A

say.
    “ I am going to make sure you go to prison for this. Then see
how you like it,” she yelled as bitter frustration swept through
her.
    The only
sound that met her ears was the rhythmic clip of the man’s boots on
the stone floor as he walked away. Disgust made her kick the door.
She immediately wished that she hadn’t when pain lanced up her big
toe, and brought tears to her eyes, but it had felt good to be able
to let loose some of the anger that had built within her over the
last few days.
    When
silence settled around her, she had little choice but to sit on her
bed with an annoyed huff. She studied the black walls of the small
square space and knew that it was a cell; not a bedroom. Calling it
a bedroom, or even a room, indicated that it was somewhere someone
might wish to spend time. This was a cell; a place of confinement
and punishment. It was awful, and by far the very last thing she
had expected when she had briefly considered that the poor house
might be the place she should be.
    As the
hour ticked by, the lack of heat within the room began to draw the
last of the warmth from her skin, and made her already chilled
flesh begin to shiver. She curled up on the bed, and wrapped her
arms around her knees to try to retain some of her precious warmth
while she attempted to work out what to do next. For a moment she
buried her nose in the meagre warmth between her knees, but
couldn’t ignore her frozen toes.
    She
valiantly battled the wave of helplessness that swept through her
and, as exhaustion began to draw her into sleep, she locked her
thoughts on the one person who seemed to haunt her dreams more and
more with each day that passed; Mr Harrington Tingay.
    Sure
enough, as soon as she closed her eyes, he was there; waiting. His
image was as fresh as the day she had first seen him, and hung over
her like a guardian angel while she slept.
    She
couldn’t help but wonder where he was; and what he was
doing.
    It was
difficult to understand just what the pang of hurt deep inside her
was all about. Right at that moment, she daren’t consider it too
closely because she wasn’t at all sure she was comfortable with
what she would discover.
    She
desperately tried to block out all thoughts of him, and turned her
attention to the most important issue she had to deal with first
thing in the morning: how on earth she was going to get out of
there if none of the wardens would take her to the
governor.

CHAPTER
SEVEN
     
    Harry
clutched the missive from his friend, Sir Hugo, and heaved a sigh
of relief. He shook hands with his colleagues, Marcus, Joseph and
Joshua.
    “ Thank you for coming so promptly,” Harry said fervently.
“Come on through.”
    He led
them into the study, and caught sight of Charles Dandridge outside
the window. He had no doubt that the butler was trying to find a
good position beneath the window in order to listen in on their
conversation, and was probably desperate to know who the latest
arrivals were.
    However
Harry, used to working with the Star Elite, was well ahead of him.
He poured everyone a brandy before he took a seat close to them in
front of the fire. He waited for everyone to lean forward, and kept
his voice low so only those within the circle could hear
him.
    “ Dandridge listens at doorways, so be careful what you
discuss,” he warned quietly and nodded toward the window behind
them. “I am not sure how much Sir Hugo has told you.”
    “ Well, he has told us all about your reason for being here,”
Marcus replied obliquely, and glanced out of the open door which
led to the hallway. He took a moment to close and lock it before he
resumed his seat.
    Harry
explained about the forged letter, and the events surrounding
Tilly’s disappearance, and lapsed into expectant silence. He was
immensely relieved that his colleagues had managed to get there so
quickly and, for the first time since Tilly had left his house,
felt hopeful that he would finally be able to get her out of the
poor