Chapter Four: Blood Moon by Rosaline Saul
THE HEAVY RAIN had stopped and was replaced by the usual drizzle. The crowd of people around them moved away and carried on with their business.
Beatrice crouched down to pick up her suitcase, and Maggie saw a man standing in her place and her breath fluttered a little as she took a good look at him.
He looked as if he was in his early twenties and around six feet tall, his tousled blonde hair reached almost to his collar. His brilliant blue eyes were fixed on her with a curious look. There was an effortless air of confidence about him, which she found physically disturbing.
Without warning, Maggie and Beatrice were surrounded by a group of large men. Then, just as sudden, Maggie felt her arms being pulled behind her back and as she began to struggle, the pair of hands clamped tighter around her wrists. She wanted to scream for help, but her throat would not let any sound escape.
A policeman grabbed Beatrice as she was standing back up, her body dragging a little to the side as the heavy suitcase pulled her down. As soon as Beatrice's scream started it was silenced by a big hand folding over her mouth. The hand was so big it covered the whole bottom part of Beatrice's face.
Maggie asked in a panic, “Who are you?”
The man standing across from her smirked. “I am Joseph Burke, and you are the one who has kidnapped my ward.” His accusing voice cut into her.
“Kidnapped?” Maggie's voice rose to a shriek. “Are you mad?”
“You are the mad one,” he accused. “Did you think you would get away with this?”
Maggie was shaking. “I just met her.”
The policeman behind Maggie asked Joseph, “Count Burke, what would you have us do with her. In the stockade, perhaps?”
Count? Beatrice did not mention he was a Count.
Joseph's dark eyes seared Maggie. “Take Lady Beatrice back home. As for this one, get her out of my sight. Now.”
Roughly Maggie was turned toward the road.
“Please.” She looked back over her shoulder at Joseph. “You are making a terrible mistake.”
“The mistake is yours,” Joseph told Maggie curtly. His tone was harsh. “One for which you will pay dearly.”
He turned his back on her and followed the policeman who physically picked Beatrice up from the ground and was now carrying the girl in the opposite direction.
Beatrice flailed her arms and kicked her legs, without any result.
“Please,” Maggie pleaded with the policeman who was pushing her toward the police station. People stopped to stare, but Maggie was not paying any attention to them. “It is all a big misunderstanding. I just met the girl.”
At the police station, the policeman shoved her roughly into a cell.
Maggie fell onto her hands and knees. The sharp points of the foul-smelling straw on the floor poked painfully into her skin.
She scurried into a corner. At least she was alone in here. Her damp dress stuck to her and the cold breeze coming through the tiny barred window high up on the wall chilled her to the bone. She started to shiver.
Count Joseph Burke. The name seemed familiar, but for the life of her, she could not remember why. Her scared brain refused to make the connection. She was sure she had never, ever encountered him in person before. Grimly she thought she would have remembered him, and she would never, ever have forgotten that she had met him. Beatrice said he was evil, but he was worse than evil.
She decided there was no use just sitting in a corner and hating him. She had to think. She resisted the impulse to drop her head into her palms and to weep. They must have had a chance to speak to Beatrice by now, so they must know Maggie was innocent. Unless Beatrice was too scared to tell them the truth.
Maggie felt her stomach churn.
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