‘I don’t hate you. I never hated you.’
‘Even when someone loves you it’s easy for them to become convinced you’re bad. Look at my parents. They won’t see me. And now the case is over, I don’t know if I want to see them.’
‘The case is over?’ I yelp.
Elliot heaves a sigh. ‘It is now.’ His voice tightens. ‘I can hardly believe it, but it is. I was rushed into court on Tuesday morning and there was this recording, filmed by one of the saboteurs. I hadn’t even known she was there that night. She must have been in the dark somewhere trying to save my skin. There was film of me being whipped across the cheek by one of the riders and pushed by one of their heavies, stumbling backwards onto the horse and making it throw its rider. The whole court heard me saying I was just trying to walk home from the pub and that I didn’t want any trouble. They could see I had my hands up, holding my phone out, trying to get away. I had to stay there for three days while the jury came to a decision.’
‘Why did it take so long to find the film?’
‘They’d taken it. Someone in the hunt had grabbed the sab’s cameraandmy phone. It must have happened in all the scuffles after I fell, I suppose. I don’t remember. The camera and the recordings were recovered when police got a tip-off and searched a barn belonging to one of the huntsmen’s grooms. I was cleared of all charges last night.’
When Elliot breaks down in front of me, he makes the sound of a man who has been besieged from all sides, keening with relief and pain. There’s trauma in it, and sadness for everything he’s lost, and he hunches over his knees, howling like an injured animal.
I fly to him and throw my arms over him, running my hands in soothing circles over his heaving back.
He should have told me from the start. I’d have listened… maybe? Or maybe I’d have called the police too, right at the beginning when I wanted him out of here? I might have judged him and cast him away from me, like all his friends and family have, like Antonia has, and I’d never have made the discovery that this man might be just about the best thing that has ever happened to me.
‘It’s over,’ I whisper. ‘It’s over now. It’s OK. You’re safe.’
As I hold him, I think of the look in his eyes as he ran onto Minty’s property this afternoon mistakenly thinking innocent animals were going to be killed, and at the same time not thinking at all, blinded by emotion and the instinct to protect vulnerable creatures from harm.
‘Elliot?’ I say, slipping once more down onto the floor by his feet. He raises his head, his hair falling in sleek black whips over his cheekbones, framing his amber eyes. ‘What would you do if you could go back? If it was midnight on Christmas day and you’d stumbled into a hunt and there was a vixen being dug out of their covert to be thrown to the hounds? What would you do?’
Elliot’s face is sad and grave. ‘I know what I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t hide or back away this time, not for one second. I’d fight tooth and nail to stop them. Even after all this.Especiallyafter all this. It’s changed me. I’m so angry now. I’m not done fighting these people.’
He hangs his head, and I cry at his feet.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
After a long time, I don’t know how long, Elliot stands and lifts me to my feet. I’m still amazed by his strength when my own body feels tired and weak and my legs are tingling with pins and needles. His hands rub circles round my shoulders and he holds me at arm’s length.
‘You’re not angry with me?’
I shake my head. ‘Nope.’
‘You’re not afraid of me? Or ashamed?’
‘Not a bit.’
‘So what do we do now?’
I glance through the doorway into our little bookshop and only one thought strikes me. ‘We open our shop for one last afternoon, even if everyone is at Minty’s event.’
‘I’d like that,’ Elliot says with a modest smile.
‘You make us some coffee, I’ll open the door. Oh, and there are two gingerbread cookies in the café. I saved us some, in case you came back.’
‘I said I would, if I could.’
His palms are still spread around my shoulders and the heat seeps into my body, weakening my core. Neither of us move.
‘I loved being here with you. I’m sorry I blew it,’ he says.
‘You couldn’t help it. And you didn’t know if you could trust me with your secret, and deep down I think your instincts were right. But you could have told me when I asked you to. By then, I’d have believed you. I could have helped you, come to court with you. But I know now. That’s all that matters.’
‘I was never afraid of anything until I came here. I’d always looked after myself, relied on myself, and I worked hard.’
‘Worked out,’ I say, trying to get him to smile.
