Sidewinder swiftly but gently escorted Catherine down the magnificent marble stairs into the entry hall of her home. She couldn’t help but notice his hand resting in the small of her back, perhaps a bit lower than it should have been, as the apples of her cheeks turned the softest shade of pink. The Captain had never exactly been one for etiquette or the accepted social standards of the countryside.
As the two reached the bottom of the stairs, a distant shouting began to reach their ears. Upon reaching the grand front windows, Catherine let out a small gasp. The figure of a man was writhing just inside the front gates of her family estate. The Captain rushed outside and quickly recognized the man as Stratton Brownsmith, battered and wild behind the eyes. Something had gone wrong. According to his masterfully-worked plan, Brownsmith should have been miles away at this time, and not quite so bludgeoned. Catherine’s face was welling up with tears of confusion. The time had come for quick thinking.
