After that, it was quiet for a little while. Esther was intent on packaging up the vases. Harry wanted to get up and grab them out of her hands - she was so angry, she was shaking - but Giles continued to keep watch by the entrance, training her own gun on her, and there was nothing she could do. Their eyes met briefly before he coldly looked away. Was it her imagination, or had the spirit gone out of him with their last exchange? Surely, in his heart of hearts, he must know that this was wrong.

She heard footsteps on the stairs again and thought it was Porter returning, but suddenly Dempsey was in the room. She lay there looking at him, not reacting – but her heart was soaring. Had she thought he would come? No, just because how would he know where to look for her? But he was here.

Startled, Giles turned, but before he could make any noise, Dempsey knocked him to the ground in one movement, stamping on his hand to force him to release the gun. He groaned, and Esther spun around, but by then, Dempsey was pointing his own weapon at her head.

"Freeze," he growled. "Don't even think about reaching in that pocket. Get your hands in the air."

Lying there on the floor, despite everything, she could only think of one thing. James had come to her. As she watched him; the fluidity of his movements; she understood more than ever how being a cop was second nature to him. The way he had disarmed Giles and taken control; his voice – strong but steady. They could have been in New York City, far from here. He was completely alert and in his element.

He looked at her.

"You okay princess?"

"I will be when I get free of these bindings."

"Wait a minute. Soon as I deal with this one I'll be there,"

"No need," she said, "I can do it myself. They aren't tight."

She wished he hadn't found her this way; wished she could have dealt with it on her own; but God, was she happy to see him. She should have woken him to tell him where she was going - she knew that now. They could've tackled it together and she wouldn't be lying here waiting for him to rescue her, the proverbial damsel in distress.

Hindsight was a wonderful thing, and the spirited part of her would always kick against Dempsey's macho style. That part had been at play earlier in the way she had dressed quietly and tiptoed from the room to be sure of not waking him. If she had thought she would be cured of that stubbornness when they entered into a relationship, she had been proven wrong.

Jasper was here too. He came and licked her face with his rough tongue. She longed to put her arms around him, and the impulse made her work more urgently at the bindings encircling her wrists.

Dempsey was bending down to retrieve the gun he had kicked from Giles's hand, his eyes never leaving Esther's face.

Suddenly though, there was the sound of heavy boots outside. Too late, she remembered that Dempsey didn't know about Porter. She opened her mouth to warn him but he was there with them almost before she had time to think.

Everything happened very quickly. Jasper began to bark at the sight of the intruder, and Dempsey turned to see what had caused the dog to make this outcry. Harry called out too. The moment Dempsey's eyes strayed from her, Esther's hands flew to one of the vases on the table.

But Porter had the advantage, and with a shout of rage, he raised his rifle and smashed it down on the side of Dempsey's head before he could react. Dempsey slumped to the floor, and Harry watched in horror as blood began to pour down his face. A long, deep wound had opened up above his left eye.

His eyes were glazed and she could see that he was fighting to keep consciousness. He moaned and turned his face towards her.

"Harry…"

The voice was hoarse and pain-filled.

With Dempsey immobilized, Giles began to get to his feet, just as Porter turned towards Harry. Esther was standing stock-still holding the vase. She seemed to be in shock, or perhaps her mind was simply working rapidly. Jasper ran to Dempsey as he fell, but Porter kicked him so viciously that the dog was sent flying up against the wall. He yelped in a terrible, strangled way and lay still, momentarily stunned. Then he got to his feet and limped from the shelter. Harry was suddenly very scared.

Dempsey's appearance seemed to have enraged Porter, or perhaps the act of hitting him had had an inflammatory effect, because he had a look in his eye that turned her blood to ice. It was the wild, black look of one about to lose all vestige of control.

Suddenly he sprang across the room and stood, looming over her.

"You bitch!" he screamed, "I've had it with your family, do you hear? You're going to pay for all the indignities we've suffered down the years! At your bloody beck and call – no more! No more, damn it!"

She curled herself into a tight ball and terror gave her the will to wrench her hands from their bindings. The force of it burned her skin and she felt her left wrist strain and almost dislocate, but the sensation was in some small, far-off part of her brain. Most of her mental energy was being taken up by the need to ward off the attack she sensed was pending, and for which she would need her hands, damaged or not. Such rage in his face: her thoughts were scrabbling; what had they done to him, why did he feel this way? She had no idea and was certain her Father wouldn't, either.

He pocketed the gun and began to rain blows down on her with his bare hands. She lifted her arms to protect her head, but some of them found their mark and searing agony ripped through her upper body and shoulders. She cried out, despite herself.

Dimly, in the opposite corner of the room, she could hear Dempsey moaning, as though caught in a terrible nightmare. The sound was almost worse than the pain of the raining blows.

Then suddenly, it stopped. Slowly, she took her hands away from her face.

Giles was dragging Porter backwards so his feet scuffed impotently against the stone floor.

"Stop it, you - mad man!" he was shouting. Her father's valet looked dazed, as though he had been suddenly roused from sleep.

Harry rolled onto her side trying to catch her breath. Giles had saved her from a terrible fate, she was certain of that. Porter had been beyond the bounds of all restraint.