His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) (18 page)

Archie shook his head and shot Pie a dirty look, not sure if he would ever understand women either. He glanced out of the window and watche
d the guard fumble with his keys beside the gate. Lengthening his stride, he took off down the corridor, his mind racing with possibilities. Careering to a halt, he doubled back and re-entered Mr Butler’s office.

“Forget something?” Pie asked ruefully, lifting his brows and studying Archie carefully.

Archie turned toward Mr Butler. “I need a few supplies, and quickly.”

“Of course,” Mr Butler replied, lunging out of his chair
.

Within minutes
, Archie had exactly what he needed and, to the merriment of both Pie and Mr Butler, took off toward the gate.

Portia stood on the main street and felt a wave of nervousness sweep through her. She had to sternly remind herself that she didn’t need to be jumping at shadows. Archie and Pie had both said that the Guards wouldn’t venture this close to the jail. But still, she stood out of the main flow of people and watched the busy throng on the street before her with a sense of trepidation that was so strong she instinctively wanted to spin around and head straight back toward safety.

This was different to the small town of
Headingly. The people seemed more hurried, walking with more determination, eating up the ground with long strides rather than ambling along using a steady gait. There were no calls of greeting and no smiles of welcome, yet the shouting and boasting of their wares seemed louder, more forceful. The hustle and bustle of this market was more purposeful and had a harder, more sinister, edge to it that was vaguely alarming. She began to wonder if her brief, defiant display of independence was such a good idea after all. Still, she refused to retreat now. To do so would mean going back to that house and spending the rest of the day by herself, counting the ticks of the clock or, even worse, incurring the wrath of Archie and Pie for having gone against their orders.

Standing with her back to the outer wall of the jail held little comfort and, after a few minutes of studying the milling crowd,
Portia ducked her head and crossed the short distance to the trader selling the ribbons. Although the ribbons were as pretty up close as they had looked from a distance, fluttering gaily in the gentle summer breeze, she still felt a strange sense of dissatisfaction. The feeling of something being missing – or someone – was so strong that she could physically taste it. Nothing seemed to hold as much interest when there wasn’t anyone to share it with. She suddenly missed Cecily more than ever, and wondered where she was; how she was doing. Archie had said he would try to find out what had happened to her, but it could take some time, especially if Jamie had sequestered them someplace safe. Although Portia could understand the need to simply vanish, it didn’t ease her fears for her younger sibling and she knew she wouldn’t really rest until she had definite news as to her wellbeing.

Sighing despondently, Portia turned away from the stall and glanced
down the road at the rest of the market stalls for a moment. She debated going for a wander but, given the number of people that were milling around, knew it was a danger that she wasn’t prepared to face. Anyone could be lurking in the crowds, ready to pounce, and she wouldn’t know about it until it was too late. Turning away with a shudder, she drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders and headed back toward the small alleyway and the jail’s side gate. She could only hope the guard had been true to his word and stayed on the other side of the gate to let her back in.

She had only taken a couple of steps when a flurry of movement in the shadows at the far end
of the small alleyway captured her attention. They were on her so swiftly that she barely had the chance to draw breath to scream when a hand slammed brutally over her mouth, stifling her cry and intake of air. Her eyes rounded at the figure in black that loomed over her, and she felt her limbs go weak with fear for one brief moment before the need to survive overtook her.

I
nstinctively she began to struggle but it was a futile waste of energy. She was helpless to do anything as a long strip of cloth was tied over her mouth, cutting off her cries. The bindings on her wrist rendered her useless. The hard arms that swept around her, lifting her clear off the ground were merciless and swung her high into the air before she was slammed forcefully over a shoulder and carried deeper into the darkness of the alleyway. She wriggled and squirmed, kicked and fought against the bonds that held her, but watched dismay as the ground move by far too swiftly.

Her thoughts turned frantically to Archie and Pie just on the other side of the wall, and she was suddenly so very sorry that she hadn’t heeded
their warnings and remained inside the prison walls. If only she had some way of getting them to hear her. She turned her jaw this way and that in an effort to dislodge the band of cloth that had silenced her, but the tight knot at the back of her skull only dug in deeper until it was uncomfortably tight. She swallowed and felt the sharp sting of tears, feeling more sorry than ever for her stupidity. It wasn’t as if both Pie and Archie hadn’t warned her of the risks of leaving. Now she had been kidnapped, she was at the mercy of the man who was carrying her, and whatever associates he had working for him.

By the time the man threw her over the back of a large, dark horse, she was feeling slightly sick. The hard saddle dug into her stomach as she
was suspended far too high off the ground. Closing her eyes she wondered if she was going to lose the contents of her stomach despite the bindings in her mouth, and felt rather than saw her kidnapper drop into the saddle beside her. She wriggled and squirmed to find a more comfortable spot only for her eyes to snap wide with shock when her bottom was roughly slapped.

“Stay still,” a dark voice snarled quietly.

Portia wavered between shock, indignation and outrage at the audacious move. If it wasn’t for the gag, she would have given the wretch a piece of her mind. Tears forgotten, her temper surged and she began to plan all of the things she would say to him when he stopped the horse and allowed her to get down. Thinking of all the things she was going to say stopped her from being overwhelmed by the fear that threatened to swamp her. She was helpless to do anything but lie there at an uncomfortable angle and watch the ground pass by, knowing that with each passing step she was being taken further away from safety, and Archie.

By the time they reached the edge of the town, Portia was definitely feeling sick. The gentle swaying of the horse was bearable at any other time, and would have been today, if she wasn’t lying on her stomach on an unforgiving saddle. The man’s knees were lodged into her ribs and did little to aid her breathing. If he didn’t stop and allow her to get off for a while, she would be dead by the time they reached their destination because she couldn’t breathe properly.

She began to murmur and wriggle, hoping to capture his attention enough for him to stop the horse, screaming as much as the gag would allow when he merely thwacked her on the bottom again and told her to keep still.

This time though, the need to take in a deep breath of fortifying air over-rode any lingering fear she had and she straightened her back in an attempt to look up at him. This only aided her downward motion off the horse and she felt herself begin to slide. The man tried to grab for her but she twisted and squirmed away, eager to get off the wretched animal for a few moments.

She landed on the floor with a heavy thud and lay there for a moment, staring up at the dark grey clouds in the sky
as she waited for the pain in her bruised shoulder and hip to ease. All she needed now was for it to start raining; that would certainly top her day off. She warred between sorrow for not listening to what she had been told, and anger at Archie for leaving her alone for so long in Mr Butler’s house. If she hadn’t been confined in such a way, she wouldn’t be in this mess now. Her stomach began to protest at the jostling it had been given and she began to wretch. Rolling over, she began to squirm against the bindings in a desperate attempt to free her mouth.

Suddenly the gag over her mouth was gone, and
her wrists were free, just in time to hold her upright as she lost the contents of her stomach. Several humiliating moments later, she flopped down onto the floor, trembling with a mixture of fear and revulsion. A flagon of water was shoved roughly under her nose, and she gratefully took a swallow, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the thought of the man watching her. She hated him, and wanted to lambast him for his rough treatment of her, yet didn’t want to give him any reason to tie her up again. If she ranted at him, he would undoubtedly put the gag back into her mouth. If she remained quiet, he might just forget all about it.

She gasped when she was hauled to her feet, swept off the floor and this time, dumped unceremoniously onto a second horse. It happened so quickly that her stomach protested at the sudden movement and, for a brief moment, she wondered if she would be sick again. Instead she took a deep breath and ordered herself to keep calm. Carefully studying the surroundings she looked for anywhere she could raise the alarm. Someone who was passing who would at least notice her, but the streets were deserted. In stark contrast to the busy thoroughfare of the main street, there was nobody in sight
on the narrow side road that seemed to stretch on for miles. None of the houses had any sign of life and, if there was anybody in residence, nobody bothered coming to the front door to see who was passing. Instead, her horse followed her kidnapper straight down the uneven street and out into a smaller road that took them directly into the hills.

Portia had no idea where they were going, and couldn’t remember much about their journey to the town to know whether they were
heading back toward Tissington, or somewhere else. She glanced around her and sighed in frustration at the futility of her situation. Luckily her kidnapper hadn’t sought to tie her hands together and, although she wasn’t holding the reins of the horse, she was able to hold on to the saddle to keep her balance.

Her attacker threw a glance back at her and made her shiver when she got her first good look at his heavily garbed attired.
When he had turned back around again, she studied his back carefully. He was dressed in a long black cloak that made him look almost sinister. The hood of the cloak was pulled up high, covering the top half of his head in shadows. The lower half of his face was covered with a dark scarf that rendered him impossible to identify. Briefly she wondered whether it was Archie, but immediately discounted the notion. He wasn’t as cold hearted as to frighten her in such a way. Since they had first met, he had been kind and considerate and had done nothing but fight for her and protect her. He wouldn’t countenance such rough treatment of her – would he?

She frowned at the man’s broad shoulders and wished she could find out for sure. It was as though he had heard her thoughts. No sooner had they turned onto the road taking them away from the town, than he drew them to a stop. Untying another cloak from the back of his saddle, he turned his horse around to stand beside her and draped her in the heavy cloth. She wanted to push him away, and the cloak off her shoulders
, but she was immediately encased in warmth that kept the increasing winds off her shoulders. The cloak also went some way to covering the bare length of leg that was displayed by her gathered skirts. The voluminous folds of material seemed to swallow her, and she felt somewhat reassured when he tugged the hood up over her head, covering her from sight.

She took the opportunity of him being closer to try to get a look at his face, but was thw
arted by the scarves.

“What do you want with me?” Her hesitant question was, unsurprisingly, ignored.
The man moved the horses into motion once more and they began to head toward the hills.

“There will be people coming to look for me, you know,” Portia declared flatly, glaring at his back. She briefly considered sliding off the horse, but was still throbbing from the heavy thump she had taken earlier. She didn’t relish landing on the hard ground for a second time and, even if she ran for her life, she couldn’t outrun the horse he was on.

“Kidnapping is illegal.” She sighed when he continued to ignore her. “What do you want with me?” She snorted inelegantly and shook her head, despite the fact that he couldn’t see her. “If you are looking for a ransom, you won’t get it from my father. He happens to be about the meanest man in Devon.” When the man didn’t even appear to have heard her, Portia lapsed into disgruntled silence.

Once or twice over the next couple of miles she glanced back, but couldn’t detect anyone following them. She was aware that, as she turned around, the man moved. Had he been watching her? Or was he too checking that they weren’t being followed? It was impossible to tell, and, clearly the man wasn’t going to tell her anything.

As far as Portia could see, she had two choices. She could either slide off, and head for the sheltered protection of the hedges and trees and, hopefully, make her way back to the jail or, she could sit here and wait for the kidnapper to take her to her final destination.

She really had no choice. She had to make a break for freedom. At least she had the protection of the cloak to shield her from prying eyes. With the hood pulled up, she should be able to move through the streets of the town without being accosted by any ne’er do well looking for helpless females. First
, though, she had to wait for her chance.