A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,121

the front with the brim of his hat pulled low on his head. Suppressing a sigh, she flung open the door and strode over to the waiting cart, Reuben hot on her heels.

He reached passed her shoulder to fling back the tarpaulin and show her the cart was empty save for two hay bales. Mina frowned and half turned to look back at Reuben,

“I fail to see—”

There was a blur of movement behind her and a sharp sudden pain before everything turned black.

21

The first thing Mina became conscious of was the low murmur of voices. At first, she tried to drown them out to spare her poor pounding head. Then, as her senses returned and she felt the cold stone of the floor beneath her cheek, she realized she needed to regain consciousness and fast. The chill of her unfamiliar surroundings told her she was in trouble. She shouldn’t be here. Even the sounds were echoing and strange. It was almost like she had been thrown into a cellar.

Had she been thrown into a cellar? Someone had spoken recently of cellars. She thought it was Nye. He would never have thrown her into any cellar though. She was sure of that. Mina’s eyes cautiously opened. Wherever she was, it was dark, dank, and chilly. She concentrated on the voices. Surely, she knew them? They were familiar, but danced on the edge of her memory, elusive as dreams on waking.

She was lying on the ground and her first thought was that she was injured. If she had fallen down the cellar steps, maybe she had hurt herself? Gingerly, she tried to move her feet and felt them scrape against the stone floor. Then her hands. Ouch. Her head was aching fit to bust and her side felt bruised and tender. She wondered if she might have broken a rib.

Mina struggled into an upright position, sucking in her breath against the dizzying pain. Her movements had alerted the other occupants she was conscious, and she heard their feet approach.

“Where am I?” Mina asks, raising fingertips to her temples.

“Don’t you tell her!” said an angry voice, she recognized at once as Reuben the stable hand from The Harlot. A memory surfaced of turning to see Reuben with a rock in his hand. With incredulity, she realized he must have struck her head with it.

“Now lad,” Gus said with reproach. “There’s no need to take on so. Mrs. Nye won’t be informing on us, will she?”

“Gus?” Mina blinked up at the fluffy white-haired old gentleman.

“Aye, it’s me,” he told her encouragingly. “Right glad I am your brains weren’t dashed out, girl. Our Reuben was a touch over-zealous, I’m afraid. I only told him to stun you, not to try and stave your skull in.”

“You told Reuben to stun me?” she repeated through lips that felt numb.

“I’m afraid so,” he said with a gusty sigh. “Needs must, you see. You’ve had a most unfortunate effect on Nye.” He tutted. “Never would have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes.”

Mina gazed up at him uncertainly. “I’m not sure I follow,” she faltered, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“Pass that blanket here, Reuben. For she’s trembling, either from the shock or the cold, one or the other.”

“Damned if I will!” retorted Reuben angrily. “Where’s the sense, when the plan is to throw her off the headland in any case?”

Mina’s heart contracted as Gus sent the younger man a reproachful look. “There’s no need to be churlish, Reuben! And nightfall’s not for a few hours yet.” He reached across for a green plaid blanket and draped it about Mina’s shoulders. “How’s that, my dear?”

“Yes, much better, thank you.” She squinted at the dim light thrown out by a single hurricane lamp on the floor. It looked like they were in a subterraneous cavern of some sort. “I don’t understand. Where are we?” she repeated, her mouth felt dry and dusty and when she reached a tentative hand to the back of her head she could feel a matted patch of hair that was likely dried blood and a throbbing bump from where she had been struck.

Noticing her discomfort Gus looked about. “Where’s that flask?” he asked Reuben who glared back at him. “Not the whisky, you needn’t worry. I mean the water.”

“I still say we shouldn’t waste it on her,” Reuben muttered.

Gus gave an exclamation and stooped to pick something up. “Here, take a drop of this, Mina. It’ll clear your head for