Nash's Niche (Behind Closed Doors) by Raven McAllan Page B

her, be safe, and love her until neither of them cared about men, danger or what might happen. She didn't. She bit her lip until the pain was so sharp she could have cried, and she stayed silent.
    "I'm going to cover your skirt with some leaves," Nash told her. "I won't be too long. And remember I love you." Nash stroked her bottom, and then she noticed the tiniest pressure as leaves began to cover her dress and body. With a last stroke of her hair, he left. The only movement was that of the air as it was disturbed and then settled.
    The ground was rough, and a pebble dug into her breast. She daren't wriggle to move it, or to dislodge the spider's web on a twig that touched her cheek. Felicity closed her eyes and tried not to think of worms, snakes and mice. The sun filtered through the trees and the leaves over her and warmed her back and arms.
    A bee buzzed near her head, the sound soothing and soporific, and a woodpigeon cooed somewhere overhead, to be answered by another close by. The everyday sounds of a forest and its inhabitants began to work their charm, and gradually, Felicity relaxed. She began to feel drowsy, and her breathing deepened. At the edge of her consciousness, she noticed a dog fox bark, and away in the distance another one did the same. It crossed her mind that the noise wasn't usual during daylight, but Felicity was now too sleepy to care. If foxes wanted to bark why shouldn't they? It was only owls at midday that sounded silly. A brother of a friend had a penchant for doing that, and his efforts had almost brought the renowned ornithologist John Hunt to camp out in their Yorkshire house. She well remembered how Abraham had to own up to his father, and the tales of the punishment he'd received. Dreamily Felicity wondered if he'd grown out of such silliness. Surely he had, as he was a good five years older than she and Dinah. She'd long since lost touch with Dinah, who married from the schoolroom and went to live in Wales, and had heard nothing of her brother since then.  She pondered on the fact of how easy it was to lose contact with people, and how sad it was.  
    She was in that perfect place of dozing but aware, when someone touched her shoulder. Felicity shot up like a ball out of a cannon and cracked her skull against a hard chin. She saw stars but a hand covered her mouth before she had time to vent her feelings and shout out her pain, and a familiar voice spoke out.
    "Tis me. You're safe." The hold on her mouth loosened. Felicity , with a pain in her head to vie with anything the brandy had given her, saw red. She bit down into the fleshy mount of Venus as he began to move the palm away.
    Nash chuckled. "Naughty, I'll remember that. Sit up and let me brush you down." He held his hand. Felicity studied it and pointedly scrambled to her feet.
    "I have hands of my own, and I am perfectly capable of using them." She wasn't going to forget the fright he gave her in a hurry. Her heart raced and she felt clammy in a very unpleasant way. Behind her someone laughed. Felicity ignored Nash and turned round. Her eyes widened when she saw who stood there. Was this a case of conjuring up your thoughts?
    "Abraham Loftus?" It was the very person she'd been wondering about not that many moments earlier. "What are you doing here?"
    "I work here. Hello Felicity." His dark eyes twinkled and he ran his hand through his hair in a well-remembered gesture.
    She shook her head in amazement. How had no one mentioned his name?
    "You do?" She sounded like a half-wit.
    He dipped his head. "I do . I've been away for a week or so, at ah, well…" His voice trailed off.
    "Doing something for me ," Nash said. "And he is going to continue to do something for me, and head toward the kennels, whilst we go to the cottage. Someone has been using it, and I want to make sure it wasn't only Mrs. Whittering. Will you come and show me where you met her? Whoever it was who passed us is long gone, and Abe is about to check the grounds