Third Day
Emma Knight awoke the next morning to the sound of incessant knocking on her hotel room's
door. She groggily arose from her downy bed, grabbed a gauzy, white robe to cover her long,
white lingerie, and glided into some mule slippers. She groaned with every step, her injuries from
yesterday's car crash paying their toll. Carefully she unlocked the door and then opened it a crack
to perceive a steward standing outside with a large wheeled table, a silver tray and cover on top
of it.
"You're breakfast is here, madam," the porter announced in a dignified voice.
"I didn't order any breakfast," Emma informed him. As soon as the words left her lips, she thought
of John Steed. He undoubtedly ordered the scrumptious smelling meal for her. "Never mind,
please bring it in." She beckoned to one of the bare spaces on the stone floor.
As soon as the steward had left the room, Mr. John Steed entered. "How are you this morning,
my dear?"
Miss Knight sunk unto her bed with an audible moan. "Oh Steed, I feel as if a herd of elephants
stampeded over me last night!"
"Don't you remember that's the very last thing that happened before you retired for the evening?"
Steed joked.
Emma managed to smile in response before lying back on her bed. Most normal women would be
shocked and embarrassed to have a man in their room when they weren't properly dressed, but
fortunately for Steed, Emma Knight was not an average woman.
John Steed brought the table laden with food over to her bed. Gingerly, he coaxed Miss Knight to
sit upright and placed the silver stray on her lap. With an exaggerated flourish, he removed the lid
to reveal a plate filled with scrambled eggs, ham, fruit cocktail, and hash browns (the English
always did have a fetish for potatoes.)
"Am I supposed to eat all that?" Emma laughed at the ample amount of food.
"No, I'm going to help you." Steed produced two forks and knives, much to the utter amusement
of his lady companion. "My friend the doctor is always badgering me to eat three meals a day."
Steed set a fresh newspaper next to Miss Knight on the bed. "Since you're a business tycoon, I
thought you might want to read the daily paper to see how your competitors are doing."
"I really don't have many opposition, due to the fact that there's not much need for ships anymore.
People use trains or automobiles to travel across country and airplanes to go around the globe."
"Aren't boats useful for shipping items?" Steed asked.
"Yes," Emma conceded, "but I gather in the near future airplanes will take over most of the
shipbuilders business." As Steed helped himself to some eggs and hash browns, Emma flipped to
the business section of the paper. "Norman Kent, the business wizard, died two days ago of
undisclosed causes!" she announced. "He was in such good health when I last saw him."
"You've met this man before?" Steed questioned before taking a bite of ham.
"Mm hmm, he was one of my father's friends. They would go hunting together, and I joined them
several times."
"What line of work was this Kent involved with?"
"He was a manufacturer of firearms, which would explain why he enjoyed hunting so much. I
suppose all that hard work finally was too much for him" Miss Emma tossed the paper aside,
remarking, "It's funny; just a few weeks ago he told me he was going to take a break from his job.
This is really ironic, but he said he was going to spend a leisurely holiday at Millbury Castle."
Steed's head snapped to attention at this comment. He abruptly jumped to his feet and declared, "I
just remembered I had a pressing phone call that I must make immediately. If you'll excuse me, it
should only take a moment." He exited the room quickly, too quickly for Emma's liking.
"What's the rush?" she called after him. She began nibbling at her meal, deep in contemplation.
"Either he's phoning Mr. Lanier to tell him of this latest development with Mr. Kent, or he's going
to Mr. Putnam to tell him that I'm catching on to their scheme," she mused aloud. "But what
exactly is their scheme?"
Meanwhile in his room, Steed was calling Agent Robinson. "Mike, what did you find out about
Putnam's Plastic Co.?"
"They're busy creating a plastic that is bullet proof and water proof. I think they're trying to build
some indestructible ship!"
"I wonder why?" Steed queried the void.
"I believe it's some sort of conspiracy to take over the country!" Robinson declared with utmost
certainty.
"Before we jump to any conclusions, would you please tell me what line of business the other
three companies Putnam tried to buy out are in?"
"Mr. Boon was the first man to disappear, and his franchise was into electronic tracking devices.
Mr. Carton's company manufactured explosives, and Mr. Haley, the last chap to vanish, was into
engine motors. Mr. Kent was-"
"I know the late Norman Kent was into firearms," Steed interrupted his colleague.
"Did you say that Norman Kent died?" Mike Robinson demanded.
"What's the matter? Do you think Mr. Putnam and his stooges had anything to do with it?"
"I'm not sure about them being involved in any murder, but I do know that when I was at
Putnam's plastic plant yesterday, I overheard some worker say that Mr. Kent signed papers
several hours ago that gave Mr. Putnam full ownership of his firearms corporation."
"But Kent died the day before yesterday, so how could he have signed anything!" Mr. Steed cried
in obvious alarm.
"I think we better arrest this Putnam and his men for forged handwriting," noted Robinson grimly.
"We have no conclusive proof that anything was forged. After all, that worker you overheard
speaking could have been misinformed. I will continue to look around for any clues while I keep
my eye on Miss Knight."
"I suppose it's the only thing we can do under the circumstances," Mr. Robinson sighed. The two
agents said goodbye and hung up their phones.
Steed continued to ponder over the entire mystery, hoping it wouldn't get any more complex.
Silently, he traveled back to Miss Knight's room. Upon rapping lightly on the oak paneled door,
he emitted himself into the room.
Fortunately, Emma was now attired in a sleeveless, white blouse and matching pleated
knee-length skirt with skin toned nylons and heelless shoes. She smiled gregariously as she
pointed to the remaining food. "Please eat all you can of that delicious breakfast."
Steed seated himself on a chair that was very similar to the stiff, velvet-cushioned seat in his
room. In between bites, he told Miss Knight of his itinerary for the day. "I thought we might ride
horses, or play croquet, or maybe check out that hedge maze."
"Why don't we try to do all?" Emma Knight joked. She added seriously, "I can't really ride horses
with this bruised side, so why don't we just play a leisurely game of croquet?"
"Fine, we'll do that after breakfast and after I check up on a friend of mine that's supposed to
arrive today." John Steed glanced at his watch to find out the time. Dr. Keel should reach the
palace shortly, he mused.
"Is it one of your lady friends?" Emma teased.
"Actually, he's a doctor, who's trying to relax from his surgery for a few days. I told him Millbury
Castle was the place to be this summer."
"May I meet your friend, or is he shy?"
"I have no objections, and I don't think he will either." Steed quickly finished his meal and the two
went in search of his associate. Mr. Steed seemed to be in tune with David Keel, for as soon as
they entered the lobby, Steed spotted the dark haired ally. "Dr. Keel, there you are!"
Dr. David Keel whirled around to face his friend and beheld the lovely figure and countenance of
Emma Knight. He tried to avert his gaze from her as he said, "I'm glad you came down to greet
me, Steed. It would be difficult looking for you in this massive and chaotic place."
"Dr. David Keel, this is Miss Emma Knight; Miss Knight, this is my friend Dr. Keel." After the
introductions, Steed added, "We were just going to play croquet, but if you need my help finding
your way around here, I will gladly stay."
"That's an excellent proposal," Emma agreed. "I'll just head over to the croquet lawns and wait for
you there."
"I'll see you about ten o'clock, Miss Knight," Mr. Steed promised as he ushered Keel and his
luggage up the grand staircase.
"So that's the fellow you have to watch?" Keel asked with a wry smile.
Steed sighed satisfactorily as he exclaimed, "Work really shouldn't be this enjoyable! I think she
really is taking a fancy for me. If this keeps up I should expect a declaration of love followed by
several welcomed kisses."
Keel stopped on the stairs, dumbfounded and peeved. "So you'll have her fall in love with you and
then what? Will you just leave the castle, never to see Miss Knight again, or will you tell her
you're a spy and watch her reaction? Either way you're going to hurt her deeply, more deeply than
you should. You don't seem to realise that love doesn't happen every day. It could take her weeks
or maybe even years to get over a loss like that! I know, because I still hurt for Peggy, my
fiancée, even though she's been dead for a year."
"The problem is you live too much in the past!" Steed complained irritably.
"And your problem is you live too much in the present, never thinking of the consequences your
actions will have in the future," countered Dr. Keel. "Don't break that young woman's heart,
Steed." His voice and his brown, puppy dog eyes were pleading with his companion.
John Steed did not respond, put pushed open Keel's hotel room door. "I'm going to play croquet;
I will see you later," was all he could manage to say.
David Keel had never been the same since a drug dealer shot his wife to be. He had sworn he
would avenge her death, and that was how he had become involved with Steed's cases. Keel
despised Steed's chauvinistic and flirtatious manner where women were involved, and this
annoyed John. Why did Keel have to dictate what he should and shouldn't do?
Grousing to himself, he headed to the lawns where Miss Knight would be waiting for their
rendezvous. His spirits lifted considerably as he spotted the effervescent Emma hefting a mallet
over her shoulder. When she saw Steed approaching, she waved her free arm cheerfully. John
Steed seemed to hop over to Miss Knight, her beguiling smile mesmerising him.
"Shall we begin our game, or will your friend be joining us?" Emma Knight asked.
"He decided to skip croquet, so we might as well start." Steed chose a red-rimmed mallet while
Emma picked a blue one. The game was already set up so the guests only needed to start playing.
Since both were expert gamesman/woman, the match was fairly even all the way through except
at the end.
Emma was had just lined up her mallet with her ball when Steed shouted, "Miss Knight, look
behind you!" A croquet ball, which is quite a heavy object, sailed through the air, missing Emma's
head by a slight margin. It smacked into a nearby tree, leaving a significant dent.
It took only a few more perturbing seconds for the guilty party to step forward to claim his
uncontrollable ball. Mr. Cunningham smiled sheepishly as he cried, "I'm terribly sorry about what
happened, Miss Knight. Henderson told me I was hitting the ball too hard, but I wouldn't listen to
him. I hope you aren't injured or anything."
"I am a bit stunned but will recover more quickly if you leave," Emma Knight hinted none too
subtly. Cunningham shrugged before returning to his game of croquet.
Shaken considerably, Emma hit her ball but missed the next wicket. Much to her consternation,
her ball lurched forward into a bush. So far her vacation was more torture than pleasure.
First she had been severely injured in the car crash by a strange man who claimed Lanier had sent
him. Then she had been tossed and nearly pulled apart by Putnam and his gang, and now she had
narrowly escaped being smashed in the skull by a croquet ball! Emma wanted to cry, but she had
no desire to do so in front of perfect strangers. Besides, she had trained herself not to cry under
difficult circumstances.
Miss Knight glanced through tears at the mercenary ball that had almost caused her a serious head
injury or death. It was still lying under the tree as unassuming as any normal ball, but it made
Emma's knees wobble. She gazed at the Hedge Maze with its peaceful green shrubbery. It
beckoned to her, and before she knew what possessed her, she was marching hurriedly over to the
entrance. Soon she was running wildly, never looking back at the now detested croquet game.
"Miss Knight, where are you going?" Steed bellowed after her, but the young woman would not
respond. He pursued her, his long strides allowing him to catch up to her in a short duration. He
followed her into the maze, not pausing to consider which route was really the way out of there.
They both walked through the maze, not speaking to each other, Emma always several feet ahead
of him. When they arrived in the center of the maze, Miss Knight came to an abrupt halt. It was
only then that Steed realised the reason she had wandered into the maze was so nobody would see
her crying.
"All right, now that you see that I'm crying, leave me alone." The blustery wind whipped Emma's
brown hair into her face. The wind was also pushing giant thunderclouds into the blue sky.
"Steed, I'm frightened, and that's not easy for me to say. Since my father's death, I've been
alone-so very alone. I have no one to talk to, no one to assure me that everything terrible that is
happening to me will pass." Emma Knight shook her head, partly in despair and partly to get her
hair out of her eyes, but the breeze continued to play with it.
"I thought you were an independent spirit who didn't need anybody to lean upon."
"I am, but I still need a friend or a father to confide in. It doesn't help to tell your fears to yourself.
Steed, I don't want to stay here anymore, not with all these bizarre and threatening incidences."
"Oh Emma," Steed placed comforting arms around the desperate woman, "All this fear will pass;
no one will hurt you."
Emma buried her head into John's brawny but soft shoulder, inhaling his cologne. "If only I could
believe you, but I have such premonitions that you're keeping something from me." She lifted her
head to gaze into her companion's greyish-blue eyes.
"I'm not the enemy, and I will not harm you," Steed reassured her. He leaned forward, his lips
trying to find hers, but the Powers that Be would not have any of those flirtations.
At that moment, thunder clapped followed by pouring rain. "On the day when we get rain, I've left
my brolly in my hotel room!" Steed cried as he turned up the collar on his brown suit coat.
"We're stuck in this maze!" Emma cried in awareness. The two looked at each other,
flabbergasted, then burst into a peal of laughter.
They began slipping on the wet grass as they tried to find their way out. "I think it's this way."
Steed pointed to the right.
"No I'm certain it's to the left," Miss Knight declared loudly over the sound of the torrential
downpour.
"If we go that way, we'll surely be lost forever!" protested Mr. Steed.
Emma's brown eyes flashed indignantly as she insisted, "If you want to go the other way, that's
fine with me, but don't blame when you drown to death in the rain."
"I strongly suggest that we don't split up just in case of an accident, like a sprained ankle." Steed
dragged the objecting Emma down the right path. After several turns, it became apparent that
they were back to where they started.
"Well, do you want to venture down the left path, or do you want to try the right path again?"
Emma asked, smiling smugly at being correct. Steed stared at her sheepishly before he followed
her down the left trail.
To Be Continued!
Note: Thanks to my loyal readers for being so patient as I got over my writer's block! I'm
especially grateful to my two muses, Search for the Leprechaun and Alexis Rockford.
Emma Knight awoke the next morning to the sound of incessant knocking on her hotel room's
door. She groggily arose from her downy bed, grabbed a gauzy, white robe to cover her long,
white lingerie, and glided into some mule slippers. She groaned with every step, her injuries from
yesterday's car crash paying their toll. Carefully she unlocked the door and then opened it a crack
to perceive a steward standing outside with a large wheeled table, a silver tray and cover on top
of it.
"You're breakfast is here, madam," the porter announced in a dignified voice.
"I didn't order any breakfast," Emma informed him. As soon as the words left her lips, she thought
of John Steed. He undoubtedly ordered the scrumptious smelling meal for her. "Never mind,
please bring it in." She beckoned to one of the bare spaces on the stone floor.
As soon as the steward had left the room, Mr. John Steed entered. "How are you this morning,
my dear?"
Miss Knight sunk unto her bed with an audible moan. "Oh Steed, I feel as if a herd of elephants
stampeded over me last night!"
"Don't you remember that's the very last thing that happened before you retired for the evening?"
Steed joked.
Emma managed to smile in response before lying back on her bed. Most normal women would be
shocked and embarrassed to have a man in their room when they weren't properly dressed, but
fortunately for Steed, Emma Knight was not an average woman.
John Steed brought the table laden with food over to her bed. Gingerly, he coaxed Miss Knight to
sit upright and placed the silver stray on her lap. With an exaggerated flourish, he removed the lid
to reveal a plate filled with scrambled eggs, ham, fruit cocktail, and hash browns (the English
always did have a fetish for potatoes.)
"Am I supposed to eat all that?" Emma laughed at the ample amount of food.
"No, I'm going to help you." Steed produced two forks and knives, much to the utter amusement
of his lady companion. "My friend the doctor is always badgering me to eat three meals a day."
Steed set a fresh newspaper next to Miss Knight on the bed. "Since you're a business tycoon, I
thought you might want to read the daily paper to see how your competitors are doing."
"I really don't have many opposition, due to the fact that there's not much need for ships anymore.
People use trains or automobiles to travel across country and airplanes to go around the globe."
"Aren't boats useful for shipping items?" Steed asked.
"Yes," Emma conceded, "but I gather in the near future airplanes will take over most of the
shipbuilders business." As Steed helped himself to some eggs and hash browns, Emma flipped to
the business section of the paper. "Norman Kent, the business wizard, died two days ago of
undisclosed causes!" she announced. "He was in such good health when I last saw him."
"You've met this man before?" Steed questioned before taking a bite of ham.
"Mm hmm, he was one of my father's friends. They would go hunting together, and I joined them
several times."
"What line of work was this Kent involved with?"
"He was a manufacturer of firearms, which would explain why he enjoyed hunting so much. I
suppose all that hard work finally was too much for him" Miss Emma tossed the paper aside,
remarking, "It's funny; just a few weeks ago he told me he was going to take a break from his job.
This is really ironic, but he said he was going to spend a leisurely holiday at Millbury Castle."
Steed's head snapped to attention at this comment. He abruptly jumped to his feet and declared, "I
just remembered I had a pressing phone call that I must make immediately. If you'll excuse me, it
should only take a moment." He exited the room quickly, too quickly for Emma's liking.
"What's the rush?" she called after him. She began nibbling at her meal, deep in contemplation.
"Either he's phoning Mr. Lanier to tell him of this latest development with Mr. Kent, or he's going
to Mr. Putnam to tell him that I'm catching on to their scheme," she mused aloud. "But what
exactly is their scheme?"
Meanwhile in his room, Steed was calling Agent Robinson. "Mike, what did you find out about
Putnam's Plastic Co.?"
"They're busy creating a plastic that is bullet proof and water proof. I think they're trying to build
some indestructible ship!"
"I wonder why?" Steed queried the void.
"I believe it's some sort of conspiracy to take over the country!" Robinson declared with utmost
certainty.
"Before we jump to any conclusions, would you please tell me what line of business the other
three companies Putnam tried to buy out are in?"
"Mr. Boon was the first man to disappear, and his franchise was into electronic tracking devices.
Mr. Carton's company manufactured explosives, and Mr. Haley, the last chap to vanish, was into
engine motors. Mr. Kent was-"
"I know the late Norman Kent was into firearms," Steed interrupted his colleague.
"Did you say that Norman Kent died?" Mike Robinson demanded.
"What's the matter? Do you think Mr. Putnam and his stooges had anything to do with it?"
"I'm not sure about them being involved in any murder, but I do know that when I was at
Putnam's plastic plant yesterday, I overheard some worker say that Mr. Kent signed papers
several hours ago that gave Mr. Putnam full ownership of his firearms corporation."
"But Kent died the day before yesterday, so how could he have signed anything!" Mr. Steed cried
in obvious alarm.
"I think we better arrest this Putnam and his men for forged handwriting," noted Robinson grimly.
"We have no conclusive proof that anything was forged. After all, that worker you overheard
speaking could have been misinformed. I will continue to look around for any clues while I keep
my eye on Miss Knight."
"I suppose it's the only thing we can do under the circumstances," Mr. Robinson sighed. The two
agents said goodbye and hung up their phones.
Steed continued to ponder over the entire mystery, hoping it wouldn't get any more complex.
Silently, he traveled back to Miss Knight's room. Upon rapping lightly on the oak paneled door,
he emitted himself into the room.
Fortunately, Emma was now attired in a sleeveless, white blouse and matching pleated
knee-length skirt with skin toned nylons and heelless shoes. She smiled gregariously as she
pointed to the remaining food. "Please eat all you can of that delicious breakfast."
Steed seated himself on a chair that was very similar to the stiff, velvet-cushioned seat in his
room. In between bites, he told Miss Knight of his itinerary for the day. "I thought we might ride
horses, or play croquet, or maybe check out that hedge maze."
"Why don't we try to do all?" Emma Knight joked. She added seriously, "I can't really ride horses
with this bruised side, so why don't we just play a leisurely game of croquet?"
"Fine, we'll do that after breakfast and after I check up on a friend of mine that's supposed to
arrive today." John Steed glanced at his watch to find out the time. Dr. Keel should reach the
palace shortly, he mused.
"Is it one of your lady friends?" Emma teased.
"Actually, he's a doctor, who's trying to relax from his surgery for a few days. I told him Millbury
Castle was the place to be this summer."
"May I meet your friend, or is he shy?"
"I have no objections, and I don't think he will either." Steed quickly finished his meal and the two
went in search of his associate. Mr. Steed seemed to be in tune with David Keel, for as soon as
they entered the lobby, Steed spotted the dark haired ally. "Dr. Keel, there you are!"
Dr. David Keel whirled around to face his friend and beheld the lovely figure and countenance of
Emma Knight. He tried to avert his gaze from her as he said, "I'm glad you came down to greet
me, Steed. It would be difficult looking for you in this massive and chaotic place."
"Dr. David Keel, this is Miss Emma Knight; Miss Knight, this is my friend Dr. Keel." After the
introductions, Steed added, "We were just going to play croquet, but if you need my help finding
your way around here, I will gladly stay."
"That's an excellent proposal," Emma agreed. "I'll just head over to the croquet lawns and wait for
you there."
"I'll see you about ten o'clock, Miss Knight," Mr. Steed promised as he ushered Keel and his
luggage up the grand staircase.
"So that's the fellow you have to watch?" Keel asked with a wry smile.
Steed sighed satisfactorily as he exclaimed, "Work really shouldn't be this enjoyable! I think she
really is taking a fancy for me. If this keeps up I should expect a declaration of love followed by
several welcomed kisses."
Keel stopped on the stairs, dumbfounded and peeved. "So you'll have her fall in love with you and
then what? Will you just leave the castle, never to see Miss Knight again, or will you tell her
you're a spy and watch her reaction? Either way you're going to hurt her deeply, more deeply than
you should. You don't seem to realise that love doesn't happen every day. It could take her weeks
or maybe even years to get over a loss like that! I know, because I still hurt for Peggy, my
fiancée, even though she's been dead for a year."
"The problem is you live too much in the past!" Steed complained irritably.
"And your problem is you live too much in the present, never thinking of the consequences your
actions will have in the future," countered Dr. Keel. "Don't break that young woman's heart,
Steed." His voice and his brown, puppy dog eyes were pleading with his companion.
John Steed did not respond, put pushed open Keel's hotel room door. "I'm going to play croquet;
I will see you later," was all he could manage to say.
David Keel had never been the same since a drug dealer shot his wife to be. He had sworn he
would avenge her death, and that was how he had become involved with Steed's cases. Keel
despised Steed's chauvinistic and flirtatious manner where women were involved, and this
annoyed John. Why did Keel have to dictate what he should and shouldn't do?
Grousing to himself, he headed to the lawns where Miss Knight would be waiting for their
rendezvous. His spirits lifted considerably as he spotted the effervescent Emma hefting a mallet
over her shoulder. When she saw Steed approaching, she waved her free arm cheerfully. John
Steed seemed to hop over to Miss Knight, her beguiling smile mesmerising him.
"Shall we begin our game, or will your friend be joining us?" Emma Knight asked.
"He decided to skip croquet, so we might as well start." Steed chose a red-rimmed mallet while
Emma picked a blue one. The game was already set up so the guests only needed to start playing.
Since both were expert gamesman/woman, the match was fairly even all the way through except
at the end.
Emma was had just lined up her mallet with her ball when Steed shouted, "Miss Knight, look
behind you!" A croquet ball, which is quite a heavy object, sailed through the air, missing Emma's
head by a slight margin. It smacked into a nearby tree, leaving a significant dent.
It took only a few more perturbing seconds for the guilty party to step forward to claim his
uncontrollable ball. Mr. Cunningham smiled sheepishly as he cried, "I'm terribly sorry about what
happened, Miss Knight. Henderson told me I was hitting the ball too hard, but I wouldn't listen to
him. I hope you aren't injured or anything."
"I am a bit stunned but will recover more quickly if you leave," Emma Knight hinted none too
subtly. Cunningham shrugged before returning to his game of croquet.
Shaken considerably, Emma hit her ball but missed the next wicket. Much to her consternation,
her ball lurched forward into a bush. So far her vacation was more torture than pleasure.
First she had been severely injured in the car crash by a strange man who claimed Lanier had sent
him. Then she had been tossed and nearly pulled apart by Putnam and his gang, and now she had
narrowly escaped being smashed in the skull by a croquet ball! Emma wanted to cry, but she had
no desire to do so in front of perfect strangers. Besides, she had trained herself not to cry under
difficult circumstances.
Miss Knight glanced through tears at the mercenary ball that had almost caused her a serious head
injury or death. It was still lying under the tree as unassuming as any normal ball, but it made
Emma's knees wobble. She gazed at the Hedge Maze with its peaceful green shrubbery. It
beckoned to her, and before she knew what possessed her, she was marching hurriedly over to the
entrance. Soon she was running wildly, never looking back at the now detested croquet game.
"Miss Knight, where are you going?" Steed bellowed after her, but the young woman would not
respond. He pursued her, his long strides allowing him to catch up to her in a short duration. He
followed her into the maze, not pausing to consider which route was really the way out of there.
They both walked through the maze, not speaking to each other, Emma always several feet ahead
of him. When they arrived in the center of the maze, Miss Knight came to an abrupt halt. It was
only then that Steed realised the reason she had wandered into the maze was so nobody would see
her crying.
"All right, now that you see that I'm crying, leave me alone." The blustery wind whipped Emma's
brown hair into her face. The wind was also pushing giant thunderclouds into the blue sky.
"Steed, I'm frightened, and that's not easy for me to say. Since my father's death, I've been
alone-so very alone. I have no one to talk to, no one to assure me that everything terrible that is
happening to me will pass." Emma Knight shook her head, partly in despair and partly to get her
hair out of her eyes, but the breeze continued to play with it.
"I thought you were an independent spirit who didn't need anybody to lean upon."
"I am, but I still need a friend or a father to confide in. It doesn't help to tell your fears to yourself.
Steed, I don't want to stay here anymore, not with all these bizarre and threatening incidences."
"Oh Emma," Steed placed comforting arms around the desperate woman, "All this fear will pass;
no one will hurt you."
Emma buried her head into John's brawny but soft shoulder, inhaling his cologne. "If only I could
believe you, but I have such premonitions that you're keeping something from me." She lifted her
head to gaze into her companion's greyish-blue eyes.
"I'm not the enemy, and I will not harm you," Steed reassured her. He leaned forward, his lips
trying to find hers, but the Powers that Be would not have any of those flirtations.
At that moment, thunder clapped followed by pouring rain. "On the day when we get rain, I've left
my brolly in my hotel room!" Steed cried as he turned up the collar on his brown suit coat.
"We're stuck in this maze!" Emma cried in awareness. The two looked at each other,
flabbergasted, then burst into a peal of laughter.
They began slipping on the wet grass as they tried to find their way out. "I think it's this way."
Steed pointed to the right.
"No I'm certain it's to the left," Miss Knight declared loudly over the sound of the torrential
downpour.
"If we go that way, we'll surely be lost forever!" protested Mr. Steed.
Emma's brown eyes flashed indignantly as she insisted, "If you want to go the other way, that's
fine with me, but don't blame when you drown to death in the rain."
"I strongly suggest that we don't split up just in case of an accident, like a sprained ankle." Steed
dragged the objecting Emma down the right path. After several turns, it became apparent that
they were back to where they started.
"Well, do you want to venture down the left path, or do you want to try the right path again?"
Emma asked, smiling smugly at being correct. Steed stared at her sheepishly before he followed
her down the left trail.
To Be Continued!
Note: Thanks to my loyal readers for being so patient as I got over my writer's block! I'm
especially grateful to my two muses, Search for the Leprechaun and Alexis Rockford.