“I’ve handed over your details to the Home Office,” Richard said. “You’ll be getting paid direct from them, and a housekeeper’s allowance as well.”

“I’ll pass that directly to Liz,” Paul said. “She’s taking it very seriously.” He looked around Richard’s comfortable study. “Are you sure that Carol isn’t a brownie?”

“I think that technically she’s a normal,” Richard said, following Paul’s gaze over the gleaming brass and polished wood. “But she’d fit in. She and Liz seemed to have formed some sort of alliance,” he added. “Now that Carol is spending the nights at your place, they seem to be plotting.”

Paul nodded uneasily. “According to Liz, she’s making a rag rug and teaching Carol how to knit, but…”

Richard nodded. “I’m sure that they’re up to something. But never mind that.” He straightened the books on his desk. “I need to have a meeting with my court on Wednesday,” Richard said. “I’d like you to be there, along with Theo. It’s about Briget Ddu and the threat she poses. And I believe that Theo has something that he can tell us. He was caught up in an attack, regardless, and needs to know that action is being taken. If you can get here with Theo around 8pm. There be food, of course, but I’d stay away from the drink if I were you and leave as soon as the business is finished. The elfen are a little giddy at the moment, and they keep stealing sugar from Carol’s kitchen, which doesn’t help.” For a moment Richard looked unutterably weary. “I’ll be glad when they can go back to the domain.”

“I’ll let Theo know,” Paul said. “And it’s getting late. I’ll walk Carol back to the cottage.”

“Perhaps you can take the huge pack of yarn that was delivered this morning with you,” Richard said. “Though you may be better off loading it in a van.”

Paul laughed. “At least it’s taking her mind off things,” he said.

Paul wandered down the passage to the kitchen and then paused. He could hear Carol, and she sounded at the very end of her tether.

“I told you! Keep your hands out of that cupboard,” she snapped. “There are plenty of goodies in the dining room.”

“You no longer read poetry,” Cowslip said. “You no longer read Leigh Hunt. “But the fruit were scarce worth peeling, were it not for stealing, stealing.”

“Lee who?” Carol asked, bewildered.

Paul eased open the door. Carol was now backed into a corner, furious and bewildered, with two elfen leaning over her. “You cannot stop us,” Cowslip said, his slim hand resting on the counter and keeping a barrier between Carol and the rest of the kitchen. “We are between you and the pan.”

“Richard will be angry,” Carol said defiantly.

“And so will I,” Paul said, stepping into the kitchen. He caught up the cast iron frying pan with ease and swung it in a high feint at Ragthan who flinched back allowing room for Paul to bring down the wooden spoon hard on Cowslip’s hand, sending an unexpected jolt of magical energy through it.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Cowslip jumped back and screeched. “A paladin!”

Carol took her chance. She didn’t try and escape. Instead she pushed Cowslip hard on his broad chest. The elfen, taken by surprise, staggered back and then flinched at the fury in Carol’s eyes.

“Don’t you start!” she snapped. “How dare you!”

“I am sorry, Mistress Carol,” Cowslip was now the one pinned back against the cupboards. Ragthan had vanished.

“Sorry? Sorry! Just remember who makes these treats. Just remember who buys them, makes them, and has them packed up for feasts.” Carol leaned forward and started into Cowslip’s fearful eyes. “I can make Lord Richard stop you getting any treats at all.”

“Not that!” Cowslip cried. “But they are so sweet!”

Carol stepped back and looked him up and down. “You need to understand how things are,” she said with icy control. “But I have mercy on those who have been long in darkness. If you and your friends can stay out of my kitchen while I’m working tomorrow, at the end of the day I will give fudge.”

“You have fudge?” Cowslip whispered, awestruck.

“I shall make fudge tomorrow, while I am working – if I am left in peace!” Carol said. “And then I will consult with Lord Richard about the proper presentation of fudge. I need to know how often I should give it, and under what circumstances.” She poked the cringing elfen hard in the chest. “Those circumstances will never include you threatening me in my own kitchen. Do you understand?”

Cowslip nodded. “But fudge?”

“If you let me cook tomorrow, yes,” Carol said. “Now go!” The elfen fled.

Paul smiled at her. “I think you’ve found their weakness,” he said.

Carol chuckled. “I suspect that they are still working out things, but fudge is a definite weakness. I shall have to check for some good recipes. Or perhaps Liz will know some.”

“I’ve come to walk you down to the cottage,” Paul said. “If you’re ready.”

“I’ll just clear this stuff up,” Carol said, grabbing a cloth and spraying over the counter. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“No rush,” Paul said, watching quietly as Carol wiped down the tops, loaded the dishwasher and picked up a box filled with re-used biscuit tins. “Let me carry that for you.”

Carol shook her head. “There’s not much weight in it, and I want your hands free if we’re attacked.”

Paul laughed. “That’s not so likely. Let me get your coat, then, please.”

Carol allowed Paul to help her into her warm parka and looked around for one last check before turning out the kitchen light. “Liz was talking about a new recipe with lemon chicken,” she said. “It sounds nice. And Theo is coming over. He’s promised to bring dessert.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m keeping active, walking up and down between here and the cottage,” Paul said. “I’ll be putting on weight if I’m not careful.”

Carol locked the door behind them and they strolled down the drive in companionable silence. The sun had set and the night was overcast. Paul pulled his courage together. “I should bring a torch,” he said. “There are lights on the manor and the cottage, but it’s surprisingly dark on the road.”

“And incredibly quiet, if you’re used to a city,” Carol said.

“But it’s not a bad walk,” Paul said. “And I have good company.” He listened to the low chuckle. He swallowed. This was far harder than dealing with rogue werewolves and uppity elfen. “I was thinking. Would you like to come for a drink one night, when it’s quiet. There’s some nice places in Hebden Bridge. Or we could go to Halifax, or anywhere else you’d like.” He forced himself to stop talking.

“I’d like that,” Carol said. “I’d like that a lot. Perhaps we could go to Hebden Bridge for a lunch. It would be easier than trying to get an evening off.”

“It really would,” Paul said, breathing a little easier. “How about Saturday? I can pick you up at eleven and we can get in somewhere before it fills up.”

“That sounds great,” Carol said. “But let’s not tell the elfen. They get silly enough as it is.”

Paul laughed as they arrived at the cottage door. “That’s a deal,” he said, unlocking the door.

“A deal,” echoed Carol. She glanced at him, then stretched up to steal a quick kiss on the cheek before scampering inside to meet Liz.

Paul stopped and touched his cheek. He’d trained against the supernatural, he’d practised martial arts, he pushed himself beyond all limits, and he had never felt so vulnerable. He took a deep breath. It felt good.