His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) (17 page)

“Sorry,” she murmured when her stomach rumbled loud enough
to make Archie chuckle.

“I won’t ask if you are hungry. Mr Butler has excellent staff and they have already got food ready for us.
I think we had better go and see what we can do to satisfy you.” Archie mentally winced at his unfortunate choice of wording and slowly eased his hold on her. It was more of a wrench to break contact with her than he cared to admit, especially as there was a bed only a few feet away. Luckily though, Portia didn’t appear to pick up on his faux pas and merely smiled at him a little shyly.

He wanted her
more than he had ever wanted any other woman, but he wanted her to want him under normal circumstances and not because she was scared, or looked at him as her saviour in dangerous circumstances.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Two days later, Portia was bored. She sighed deeply and wandered aimlessly around Mr Butler’s house. Although Mr Butler called it his home, the man was rarely there. At first light he disappeared into the main building and remained there for the rest of the day. Portia began to wonder if he was avoiding coming into contact with her, and suspected that Pie and Archie were.

Flopping down in a chair, she sighed and stared absently at the row of worn books lying on the table beside her.

She listened to the clock ticking on the mantle and wondered where Cecily was. Although Archie had said he would try and find out what had happened to her, the worry for her sister’s safety was making her sick. What if the French Guards had caught up with them too, only Cecily hadn’t escaped the way Portia had? It didn’t bear thinking about. Impatience to know the truth clawed at her, refusing to allow her to settle.

The house was quiet; to
o quiet. She wandered around, picking up this object, re-arranging another as she wandered around listlessly. She wasn’t sure how much of this sitting around she could stand before she went quietly mad.

Wandering back upstairs, she flicked at the already straight covers on the bed, and wandered aimlessly around the room. It wouldn’t be so bad if she had someone to talk to, but Pie and Archie had gone over to see
Mr Butler hours ago. Portia wondered what they had to talk about so much, because they were over in the main prison building all day yesterday too.

A
lthough Archie had assured her that everything was alright, and that it wouldn’t be too long before they were able to move on, Portia hated being confined in the small house, especially when it wasn’t hers and she had nothing to do. There was no basket of mending. No sewing projects she could even start, let alone finish, and there were no art materials with which to draw. Apart from reading, there was nothing in the house of note except for the ticking of the clock, and if she heard that much long, she was going to go stark raving mad.

Everyone had instructed her to remain in the house at all times, but the walls seemed to be closing in on her.

Portia moved to the window and glanced into the road that ran along the outside of the high prison walls. The scene was reminiscent of the hustle and bustle at Headingly. Market traders were selling their wares, shouting loudly to attract the interested gazes of the passing crowds. Children were running this way and that, while the women carried baskets and herded hens and animals through the milling throng.

Portia glanced down at her own dress with a sigh. It had once been the most favourite thing in her wardrobe
, but was now frayed at the hem and beyond redemption. Even the most frivolous fripperies wouldn’t cover the numerous tears and pulls in the fabric, or the staining that refused to be washed out. She sighed despondently and wished she had the freedom to be able to go where she wanted.

The speed in which her life had gone from frustrating, to terrifying before reverting to dull and boring was difficult to keep up with. She should be glad for the brief respite from spending days on a horse evading French Guards, but it seemed almost too quiet. She wondered how Archie managed to cope with the swift changes in circumstances, but then reminded herself that things were different for him. He was over in the main building talking to people. She was stuck in a stranger man’s house, having seen nobody for hours.
 

The fluttering of fabric on a stall further down the road captured her eye, and she gasped. Even from a distance she could see the rows upon rows of ribbons, and cuts of fabric the stallholder was showing to one of the browsing ladies
. She glanced out into the empty yard of the prison, and down at her dress. Although she had no money to purchase anything, there was no harm in looking. After all, the stall holder was only a few feet away from where she was standing. What harm could she come to? She would be only a few steps away from the prison gates, and could get there relatively easily. If she advised the guard that she would be back in a couple of minutes, he surely wouldn’t have any problem in waiting while she took a quick look – could he?

She frowned out of the window again, Archie’s words
of warning ringing in her head. He had told her to remain where she was, and not leave the house. She had spent many hours staring out of the window yesterday and had seen nothing untoward all day. Not even the French would be stupid enough to venture
this
close to a prison, surely to goodness? Portia turned and stared blankly into the room for several long minutes, undecided if she should be so bold as to go out alone.

It was alright for Pie and
Archie, they were busy talking to people over in the main building. They had things to keep them occupied – whatever they were doing. Neither man had seen fit to offer any kind of protection which, if she was honest, wasn’t necessary. They were in the most fortified building for miles around and she was about as safe on English shores as it was possible to get. But they seemed to have lost sight of the fact that she was a person. Not something they could stash in a cupboard, or in this case an almost empty house, until the next time they needed to take her out again. She needed to talk to people, fresh air to breathe, the sunshine on her face. Confining her in the house under orders not to leave was tantamount to locking her into one of the cells across the yard. She may as well be a prisoner, because she had just about as much freedom as they did. In fact, they had more freedom than she did because at least they got let out for exercises once a day. Portia hadn’t seen daylight since the day she arrived two days ago.

Decision made, she
defiantly snatched up her shawl off the bed and stalked across the room. If she had to break out of the prison Archie and Pie had left her in, then she would. After all, she wasn’t going far, and wouldn’t be long. Surely not even Pie or Archie could object to her looking at a few ribbons so close to the prison gates.

She stepped out of the front door a few minutes later and took a deep, fortifying breath of the fresh breeze that teased her face. Taking another restorative breath erased any lingering doubts she may have had about her venture, and she closed the door behind her with a firm click. Stalking across to the main gate, she paused beside the guard’s room and waited.

The guard jumped to his feet at the sight of her waiting, and doffed his cap almost nervously as he waited.

“Please open the gate, I would like to leave for a few moments,” Portia declared firmly, her chin tilted defiantly. In reality she was terrified that the man was going to blow the highly polished whistle on his jacket and half of the turnkeys
in the jail were going to come running. She could sense his indecision in the brief look he flicked at the main building behind her, but she refused to turn around. Lifting one haughty brow, she continued to look at him, her gaze steady and sure.

“There is a stall holder I need to see who
is only a few feet away on the other side of the gate. I will only be a few minutes and then I shall knock to be let back in,” Portia declared, nodding to the huge gate beside them.

“I’ve been instructed not to let anyone in or out of here ma’am, unless they are scheduled to leave.” Although the man’s stare was hard, there was a slight ring of hesitation to his voice that warned Portia not to give in so easily.
After all, Portia wasn’t a prisoner, she was a guest. He hadn’t been given orders to keep her inside, but he hadn’t been told to let her out when she wanted to go either.

“As far as I am aware I am not a prisoner here, am I?”

“No, miss.” The guard swallowed, wondering if she had just read his mind.

“Then I should be able to come and go as I please, should I not?”

“Well, yes miss, ordinarily you would, but this is a jail and we have been told to only open the gates when we are scheduled to receive new prisoners. Release day isn’t until Friday, so the gates have to remain shut until then.”

“But you come and go,” Portia protested, scowling at the man before her. He wasn’t going to be persuaded as easily as she had hoped, and she glared in hatred at the huge gates beside them. “Is there a side gate I could use?”

The guard shook his head. Once again he seemed hesitant.

“But I only want to go and see the ribbon man in the market,” Portia wailed, her small fists curling into tight balls of fury. “I’m not a prisoner here, and won’t allow anyone to confine me as such. I demand you open the side gate for me to leave.” She almost stomped her foot but only just managed to restrain the urge
, and instead watched as the man threw another cautionary look at the main building.

“The ribbon man, you say?” The guard scowled at her, his face softening slightly
at the desperation in her voice.

“I’ll be gone all of two minutes. I only want to see what ribbons he has. I have got nothing to do in that house, nobody to talk to and nowhere to go. If I stay in there a moment longer, then I shall just go quietly mad.”

The man’s lips twitched and he nodded once. “Orders are orders though, miss. I have been told not to let anyone in or out unless it is under Mr Butler’s orders. That means the side gates too.”

“I am not a prisoner,” Portia gasped, glaring at him in disgust. “Take me to
this Mr Butler, please,” she demanded, turning away and staring at the main building. “I demand to know why I am being confined against my wishes.”

“Now then miss, don’t be upsetting yourself so,” the guard soothed, casting a frantic glance around the yard. “You can’t go into the main
building, it isn’t the place for someone like you to be.”

“Ha!” Portia snorted, lifting her skirts as though to head in that direction. In reality, she wasn’t going to be so stupid as t
o enter a jail full of convicts; that would be a step too far, even for her. But the turnkey didn’t know that. She sensed rather than saw him jerk in alarm and he scurried around to stand before her, blocking her path.

“I’ll let you out, miss, but it
has to be through the side gate, and you have to come straight back, mind,” the guard offered, hefting the huge iron ring of keys off his hip. “You have to use the side gate. Knock when you want to come back in.”

Portia nodded, unable to speak. Her heart hammered in her throat, whether through jubilation or fear she couldn’t be sure, but now she had victory, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to go. It
had seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago, but the memory of what had happened when she had ventured out only a couple of days before was still ripe in her memory and refused to be banished.

The
guard motioned for her to precede him around the side of the house toward a wooden gate half way down the wall. She didn’t see the frantic signal he gave someone standing in the building across the yard, or another guard run for the main building as fast as his feet could carry him.

Once at the gate
, the guard seemed to take an age to find the right key, fumbling through the huge ring, one after the other until she wondered if she was going to have to snatch it off him and open the wretched gate herself. Now that she had the scent of freedom, and had removed the obstacles, she was going to go through with her plan and that was that. She sighed impatiently and wondered if he was trying to buy some time. Glancing back at the main building she could see nothing untoward, and no sign of Pie or Archie. Huffing in disgust, she turned back to the guard and watched him slowly put the key into the lock. The gate swung silently open.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be waiting here, miss. Knock when you want to come back in, but miss?” the guard placed a hand on her arm to halt her progress toward freedom. “If you aren’t back in five minutes, I’m going to raise the alarm.”

“Good enough,” Portia nodded briskly and disappeared toward the busy market street.

Archie swore fluidly and watched Portia cross the yard toward the gate. He couldn’t believe that she was going to go against everything she had been told – again. Despite the warnings, the lectures, everything Pie and Archie had drummed into her over and over, she had still managed to talk the guard into letting her out.

Although she wasn’t a prisoner, she was under protection and had to understand that meant she had to stay put. She wasn’t free to come and go as she pleased. They were trying to keep her safe.

“Do you want me to go?” Pie asked, running a hand through his hair at the sight of Portia standing at the side gate, waiting to be let out.

“I’m going. I’ll take her to
my house rather than Applemore,” Archie sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. His temper was as close to breaking as it had ever been and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw her over his knee and paddle her backside, or leave her to her fate chosen by the French.

“She isn’t a prisoner, so you can hardly blame her for wanting
to get out for a while.”

“
I know, but she was told not to go out for the time being. I don’t expect her to stay in the house for the next few months; it has just been a couple of days while we question the captives and wait for Hugo’s instruction. It’s not a lot to ask of her, is it?”

“I’ll never understand women,” Pie declared flatly, shaking his head. “I’m going to head back to help Rupert.
Good luck - if you can catch her.”