Someone brushed up against her and she suddenly remembered that they were not alone along the path, despite how isolated it seemed.
Anette took a step back and dropped her arm from Roswell. “I would feel much better if we caught up to Caleb and Octavia.”
She couldn’t quite read Roswell’s expression, but it almost seemed as if he were disappointed by her remark.
“Very well,” he said, gesturing towards a dimly lit path. “I happen to know a shortcut to my sister’s favorite pavilion.”
If things were different, she would suspect that Roswell was trying to get her off the lighted path for a tryst, but she did know better. Roswell just wanted to be her friend, despite all the kind things he’d said to her.
They headed down the path and it wasn’t long before they saw the pavilion in the distance.
“I told you that this way is much faster without all the people crowding the main path,” Roswell said.
He had barely uttered his words when he let out a grunt before crumbling to the ground.
She gasped. “Roswell?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
A deep, mocking voice chimed in from behind her. "He'll be fine," he said.
As she turned around, she saw a man holding a big rock in his hand. “Hello, sweet thing,” he greeted in a harrowing voice. “You are coming with me.”
“I think not,” she promptly replied. She wasn’t going anywhere with this man!
The man wasn't much taller than her but was very broad and heavily built. His cap cast a long shadow on his face, hiding his expression from her view. However, she could still see the smug smirk on his lips.
He dropped the rock and grabbed her arm, yanking her forward. “Do not scream and I won’t have to hurt you,” he growled, his foul breath on her cheek.
Roswell groaned and reached for the back of his head. Anette breathed a sigh of relief that he was alive, albeit injured.
“Come on. It is time to go,” the man ordered as he started dragging her away.
Anette had no desire to go with this man and she was pleased that he had vastly underestimated her. She reached into her reticule and retrieved her muff pistol.
She shoved it into the man’s side and tried to keep her voice calm. “Release me,” she ordered. “Or I will shoot you.”
The man came to an abrupt stop and dropped her arm. “Why do you have a pistol?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief.
“Why don’t you?” she asked cheekily.
“I bet that you don’t even know how to use that thing,” he mocked.
She took a step back and aimed it at his chest. “Do you truly want to wait around and find out?” she asked as she cocked the pistol.
Behind her, she heard Roswell shout, “Anette!”
The man must have heard it too because he started running down the path and he soon disappeared into the darkness.
Turning around, she saw Roswell stagger towards her, his hand holding the back of his head. “Anette,” he said, wincing in pain. “Are you all right?”
“Am I all right?” she repeated. “I wasn’t the one who got hit over the head with a rock.”
He brought his hand in front of him and his fingertips were covered with blood. “I should have seen that coming.”
“How?” she asked in disbelief. She hadn’t even heard their attacker approach.
“I was distracted,” Roswell said as he wiped his hand on his gray trousers. “We need to get you to the coach.”
“What about Caleb and Octavia?”
