Authors: Rebecca King
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #mystery, #historical fiction, #historical romance, #romantic mystery
“
There is a
small room at the back of the library that we could turn into a
small bedroom if that would help.”
“
Harry and
Marcus will manage, I am sure of it. We will be taking turns to
keep watch overnight, so won’t need a bed at the same time.
However, I have said that Marcus, or Harry, can use the library as
their bedroom for the time being. I hope that is
alright?”
“
Of course, I
will tell the others when they are up,” Prudence replied with a
yawn. It would be churlish of her to refuse given that they were in
her house to protect them and, hopefully, bring the one man who had
been the bane of her life for the last several months to justice.
If accommodating them for a few nights was all she needed to do to
help them, then it was a small price to pay for the huge weight
they were taking off her shoulders.
“
You don’t
mind?”
“
Of course
not.”
“
It was late
last night and you were fast asleep. It didn’t seem right to wake
you to ask.”
Prudence smiled up at
him. She was strangely touched by his concern and hastened to
reassure him that she wasn’t perturbed in the least by his
assumptions. “Your friends are more than welcome here. They are
helping you, and ensuring that you find out just what Levant is up
to. Having one man in the house is enough of a deterrent, but to
have three of you here will ensure that Levant gets the message
that we are not the vulnerable women he wants to believe we
are.”
“
He is still
going to try to purchase Cragdale, Prudence, you know
that.”
For the first time since
he had first met her, she was completely relaxed and at ease with
the world, and he wanted her to remain that way for as long as
possible, but he didn’t want her to expect him to perform miracles.
They still had a lot of work to do before Levant was no longer in a
position to be a threat to the family and, until then, she had to
remain wary and do as he asked.
“
Prudence!
Prudence! Come quickly! There is a man in the house,” Eloisa gasped
from the other side of the door. The rattle of the knob was
accompanied by the loud thumps on the panelling. “Prudence! Wake
up! Oh, why have you locked the door?”
Prudence shared a glance
with Stephen, who looked rather pleased with himself.
“
I didn’t
want intruders this morning,” he whispered, with a wink. She was
glad for his foresight, and hastily dug around in the covers at the
end of the bed for a sheet to cover herself, only for Stephen to
snatch it out of her hand with a mischievous smile on his
face.
“
What are you
doing? I have to get dressed,” she protested, making a second wild
grab for the sheet, which he threw into the far corner of the room.
She paused at the intent look on his face and felt her heart began
to pound with anticipation. She glanced this way and that but there
was nowhere she could go except out of the door, and that was
completely out of the question given her unclothed state. Desperate
hands tried to cover her dignity but he was having none of that
either and merely grabbed a hold of her wrists and drew them over
her head. Her cheeks turned a fiery red as her bare flesh met his.
She couldn’t pull away, and couldn’t ignore the evidence of his
desire that was so prominent against her hip.
“
We can’t,”
she whispered, only half regretfully, aware of Eloisa, who was
still on the other side of the door.
“
Oh, yes we
can, Prudence,” he whispered with a wolfish grin on his face, and
proceeded to show her just how dominant he could be.
Several days later,
Stephen, Harry and Marcus stood on the edge of the trees to the
rear of Dinnington Hall and studied the huge building before them.
Stephen had already sketched a map of the internal layout and they
had each taken a third of the building to search. He nodded to
Harry, who melted into the shadows and began to make his way to the
rear of the house. Stephen shared a glance with Marcus and together
the men made their way toward the front window that led directly to
Levant’s study.
As he crept through the
shadows, Stephen thought about the lessons the past week had taught
him. He had spent more time with Prudence than he had ever spent
with any woman, both in bed and out of it. They had shared a lot
about their backgrounds, and their likes and dislikes, and had
formed a wonderful friendship that had only intensified the raging
passion that burned between them.
He had spent many lazy
days in front of the fire while the ladies read, or Robbie learned
his numbers. With the threat of Levant’s return hanging over them,
he had wasted no time in making the most of the free time he had
been blessed with, and had taken long walks on the beach, and spent
many hours pottering about in the garden with Prudence. It had been
a fun-filled time when both he, and his colleagues, had gotten to
know the family very well.
He knew that Harry and
Marcus had grown particularly fond of the young ladies too and, as
a result of the last several days, all three of them had a
particular determination to do whatever they could to ensure that
the Freestone family could remain at Cragdale, without threat from
their uncle, Levant or any of his associates; French or
otherwise.
They had all eaten far
more than was wise, and had laughed, played, joked, teased and
generally enjoyed the atmosphere of the homely manor house, to the
point that Harry had declared he may never want to leave if he
stayed there much longer. For all of them, their time at Cragdale
Manor had been by far the most unusual, and relaxed operation they
had ever taken part in.
Were they being lulled
into a false sense of security? Stephen wasn’t sure, and he
couldn’t afford to lose sight of the fact that they were
investigating a ruthless gang of French smugglers, who were
prepared to do whatever it took to be able to enter and leave the
country relatively undetected, whenever they chose.
So far, they had
established a network of people, both English and French, who
provided them with documentation, accommodation, and false
identities. Their ruthlessness meant that everyone within the Star
Elite had been made to work that bit harder to ensure that the
foreigners, and their accomplices, were found, identified and
brought to justice as quickly as possible. It hadn’t been
particularly difficult once they had found the first person, but
the sheer size of the operation the French had established had
caused significant problems. Each time one Frenchman died, or was
put behind bars, it seemed that three more crawled out of the
woodwork.
However, Lady Luck had
recently shone down on them and, thanks to Archie and Pie’s
determination, one of the most ruthless French spies of them all,
Beaulieu, had been brought to justice. Since then, a variety of
people had been found, captured and sent to jail, if not killed and
the threat to England’s borders had been reduced to no more than a
handful of French spies. Stephen had been tasked with finding
another of the outstanding foreigners, Rousseau. Without an
adequate description as to what the man actually looked like, his
job had been near impossible.
If it hadn’t been for the
events that had unfolded at Jamie and Pie’s weddings, he would
never have found the lead that had taken him to Dinnington Hall,
and straight to Prudence’s door.
He still wasn’t
convinced, however, that Levant was French, or had anything to do
with the spy he was hunting. Stephen had investigated the man’s
rather innocuous background and uncovered a firm link that went
back to the man’s birth in a rather nondescript little village on
the outskirts of Northampton. His real name had been easy to
identify through a very thorough search of the man’s lodgings. At
that point, Stephen would have walked away and declared the lead a
red-herring, if Levant hadn’t started to splash his cash around in
London. The man’s rather frugal lodgings had been at odds with the
grand palatial mansions, and huge manor houses that the man had
randomly purchased across the country.
Stephen had followed the
trail all the way to Dinnington, and had taken great pains to adopt
a disguise and ensure that he was put onto the small team of thugs
who worked for Levant. Using his contacts within the Star Elite, he
had been able to make sure that he didn’t take the lives of
innocent people who had property that Levant wanted. However, the
rest of the work he had been asked to carry out; issuing sinisterly
threats and menacing helpless individuals, had left a bitter taste
in his mouth that still felt uncomfortable. If it hadn’t been for
the fact that he was there to bring down the man who ordered such
malicious crimes, he would have quit and gone back to London, and
readily handed over the investigation to someone else.
Given that Hugo and his
men within the Star Elite had already removed the man who made the
false identity documents, the main financier, and the General of
the guard of assassins. As a result, most of the houses had been
compromised and had stopped being used by the French. It appeared
that they weren’t prepared to give up yet though and, with finances
from another source readily available, had begun to repeat the
process of buying houses to move their spies into while they
adopted their new identities and received new papers and
money.
The trail Stephen had
followed had led an abstract path that went from Mayfair in London,
to Dinnington. The huge house would be more than enough to
accommodate several spies who were clearly about to be shipped
ashore. The last thing he had expected was for Prudence and her
sisters to be Levant’s target but, it was obvious that they lived
in the one house that had a rather large, and quite isolated, beach
that was perfect for the French spies’ to use to get in and out of
the country relatively undetected. It was the last ‘jewel’ in their
crown of subterfuge.
Stephen shivered as a
particularly cold breeze snuck up his back. If it wasn’t for the
desperate need to protect Prudence, and Cragdale, he would have
stayed in bed with her. Instead, he was outside Dinnington,
watching Marcus break into the house.
Although he had searched
the room several times since his arrival a few weeks ago, Stephen
was fairly determined that there was a safe or some hiding place
within the room that Levant used for his paperwork. If it wasn’t in
the library, it was in the study, the sitting room or somewhere
else rather innocuous. Dinnington was a huge eighteen bedroom
palatial home that lay sprawled in the centre of at least a hundred
acres of park land. It was going to be no mean feat to ensure that
every square inch of the house was searched thoroughly, but they
had a few days to get the information they needed. If it wasn’t in
the house, they had to consider that Levant worked for someone who
kept the paperwork somewhere else. They just had to find out who it
was, and where they called home.
The study was cold and
empty, and furnished even more sparsely than Cragdale. At least the
furniture there gave the house a homely, well-loved feel.
Dinnington felt cold and austere, and most definitely uninhabited.
All of the surfaces were empty; there were no knick-knacks, or
small personal keepsakes that turned a house into a home. Although
he knew it was going to be a futile effort, he turned to the desk
that sat against the far wall and began to search for anything,
including false drawers, or any other secrets the desk might
hold.
They searched for hours.
Floor boards were pulled out, walls patted and furniture inspected
closely until all three of them were dirty, tired and annoyed.
There was simply nothing to suggest that anyone lived in the house
at all, and certainly no paper trail that would give them any clue
as to how much Levant actually did own.
“
At least we
know now the paperwork must be kept somewhere else. You said he had
a man of business?” Marcus sighed and tried to smother a
sneeze.
“
Charles
Taylor is a rather quiet and staid man. He hardly ever speaks but,
when he does, it is in a near whisper and almost impossible to
overhear. Although I have never seen him in action, I get the
distinct impression that he is just about as ruthless as Levant.
There is something about the way he watches everything that makes
me wonder just how much he is in control of what Levant
does.”
“
Could he be
French?”
Stephen sighed and shook
his head. “I doubt it. The man looks like he walked straight out of
Mayfair.”
“
So it has
either got to be Levant, Taylor, or some unnamed man who is giving
both of them orders,” Harry growled. “Do you have any information
on Taylor yet?”
“
I have been
too busy following Levant here. Taylor only recently showed his
face. On arrival at Dinnington, he suddenly appeared out of nowhere
and has been stuck to Levant like a barnacle ever since. They had
nightly conversations in here but, given the fact that the desk is
slap bang in the middle of the room, it has been damned near
impossible to hear what they have been saying,” Stephen replied
dourly. “I have managed to gather the evidence I have by more luck
than judgement really, but I am absolutely convinced now that
Levant is working for the spies in some way.”