His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) (7 page)

Several hours later,
Portia spied the small town of Headingly with a weary sigh of relief. She had never wanted to get away from anywhere in her entire life, and would be very grateful if she never went near Tissington, or its church, ever again. But she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the fact that neither sister had a penny to their name. Both of them were wearing dresses that were now caked in mud and heaven only knew what else. The plans they had begun to make earlier that afternoon had now fluttered away in the slight breeze that had begun to gather pace with the approaching storm clouds. They had the odds stacked against them, but Portia was still reluctant to ask anything of the stranger walking quietly behind her, even though their situation called for help from someone.

“Wait!” Archie drew both Portia and Cecily to a stop. Dodging through the gap between the sisters, Archie drew them closer to the hedge, aware of the clip clopping of hooves coming from the track that ran alongside the field they stood in. Huddled as close to the hedgerow as possible, Archie prised the foliage apart just enough to peer through. He watched the old man meander slowly past on his old trap before turning toward the sisters.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go on,” Cecily gasped, fanning her flushed cheeks with the edge of her shawl.

All of them were breathing heavily but, despite the satisfying distance they had managed to create, it still wasn’t enough and Archie struggled to keep the bite of impatience from his voice.

“We have to get away from the area
, Cecily,” Archie replied, eyeing Portia’s own flushed countenance with a mixture of awe and consternation. She should be red-faced, sweaty and unappealing, not made increasingly beautiful by the slightly peachy bloom to her cheeks and the militant gleam in her eye. “I apologise for the fast pace, but the quicker we can get to my rooms in Headingly, the better.”

“We cannot all go there,” Portia declared
, aghast at the thought of being alone in a bedroom with any strange man, let alone this starkly handsome one who seemed to have appointed himself their protector.

“Do you know the inn keeper?”

“Yes,” Cecily replied. “We have lived around here all of our lives. We know the majority of the people in the area, if not by name, then by face. They will recall having seen us and will tell our father when he comes looking.”

“Even if you ignore the fact that you are alone in the presence of two unmarried females,” Portia replied darkly, feeling a surge of bitterness toward the gossips who would be
agog over the latest scandal.

“I think it would be best if we moved on tonight,” Archie replied, eying the women warily. The last thing he wanted to do was be out on the roads, in the middle of the night, unchaperoned
, with two single and very eligible females. Even if one ignored the murderous spy smugglers in the area, he had his own bachelorhood to take into consideration. He had no intention of being forced to offer for any woman’s hand right now, and that included the delightful Portia, and her sister.

He had a fair suspicion
that Jamie was the Lord Calverton who had offered for Cecily’s hand. He also knew that Jamie had been sincere in his offer for Cecily’s hand, and then Archie’s life wouldn’t be worth living if it ever became known that Cecily hadn’t received the best of care Archie could offer.

A
lthough he wanted both ladies off his hands as quickly as possible, Archie needed to keep them together for now. They could act as chaperone and companion for one another, at least until he sent for assistance, and sequestered the ladies somewhere safe while he returned to Tissington to complete his mission.

Mentally running through the layout of the village, he began to plan what they were going to do next.

“But you can’t leave us here,” Portia protested, watching Archie move toward the door of the huge barn in consternation. She turned her head and peered behind them
, but in the darkness could see nothing to indicate if there was anything, or anyone else in the huge building with them.

“I won’t be gone long,” Archie replied gently, biting back a sigh of impatience. He had to purloin a cart and horse to take them to Montgomery, the larger market town several miles away and couldn’t exactly do it with the ladies in tow. While he was fairly certain they had managed to get to the barn without bei
ng seen, he couldn’t risk being noticed by one of the village’s nefarious gossips, even if the ladies did acquiesce to him purloining a conveyance at the expense of an impoverished farmer.

“How do we know that?” Portia gasped, moving to stand behind him. “We don’t even know who you
are; let alone why we should trust you.”

“That’s right,” Cecily added, moving to stand beside her sister. “How d
o we know that we can trust you?”

Even through the darkness
, Archie could see the militant gleam in the sisters’ eyes and knew he was facing an uphill battle. Reluctantly closing the door, he moved to stand directly before them and sketched a mock bow.

“My name is Archie, and I am here to protect you both. I am on the side of the good men, I promise you. While I am here, you will come to no harm.”

“But you are going to leave us,” Cecily protested, unwilling to believe him.

“Only for a little while. I need to get my things from the inn and see if any of the
Guards made it this far. When I am sure we are not being followed, I am going to find us some transport to take us to Montgomery. From there I will arrange for someone to come and collect you. They will take you to a place of safety.”

“Collect us? Who? From where?
What place of safety?”

Archie sighed and shook his head
as he was bombarded with questions, relieved that in the darkness, neither sister could see him.

“I have – associates – who are working on capturing the
French you unfortunately came into contact with. While for your own safety, I cannot tell you too much, I can tell you that the French Guards are security men for very dangerous spy smugglers. They pride themselves on being invisible. Unfortunately, you have now seen far too much. It is imperative that I get you away from here as quickly as possible. I need to get you to my associates. They will make sure you are protected until all of this is over.” He didn’t add that by killing Manton, the head of the Guards, and witnessing the murder of the Frenchman in the woods, Portia’s life was in as much danger as his own.

“I am not going to simply stand here and wait for you to return. What if the
Guards have made it to the village, and are waiting for you? We could be stuck here like sitting ducks!” Portia’s voice rose with indignation and she jumped when Cecily’s warm palm landed soothingly on her forearm.

“I am afraid I am going to have to agree with my sister. You cannot expect us to simply stand here and do nothing.”

Archie fought the urge to growl and glanced askance at the heavens for cursing him with such stalwart companions. By rights, they should be swooning in bed, being coddled and fussed over. Instead they were willing to march into dangers hitherto unknown to either of them with the innocence of lambs being led to slaughter. He had no intention of allowing them to be harmed in any way, and would at least stand some small chance of keeping them alive if they at least did as they were told.

“I don’t care what you want,” Portia argued, sensing Archie’s hesitation. “I am not going to simply stand here and do nothing but wait.”

Archie glared at her through the darkness, knowing she couldn’t see him. His frustration mounted to the point that he had to clench his fists from the physical need to shake some sense into her.

“I am not going to stay here either,” Cecily added starkly
, standing shoulder to shoulder with her sister.

Although Portia couldn’t see him, she could feel the frustration practically shimmering from
Archie. It was so strong that she was certain if she reached out, she would be able to touch it. She was suddenly glad that she couldn’t see him through the darkness, although she could feel his very presence with an acuteness that made her want to squirm uncomfortably.

She was still struggling with the speed of the afternoon’s changing events, and had no idea what to make of the awareness she felt toward the man who called himself Archie.

Archie,
she repeated silently, running the word around in her mind. It was strong and bold, yet held a ring of softness to it that contradicted the enigma that now stood before them.

“Alright,” Archie sighed, carefully considering the possibility of tying them up. Knowing these two, they would just break free and alert half of the village to their presence just to spite him.
His mind raced with possibilities. If he couldn’t leave them there, he could make sure they were kept as far out of the way as possible.

Frowning slightly, a tendril of a plan began to form in his mind and he slowly shook his head. If they were determined to be involved, then they would be – only on his terms, in his way, under his direction.
Mentally cursing himself for his own idiocy, Archie knew that if his colleagues from the Star Elite ever became aware of what he was about to do, he would never live it down. The shame would forever haunt him. Still, if it meant that the ladies lived to see sunrise, it was worth the risk.

After all, as soon as they were safe, Archie could go on his own way and never set eyes on either lady again.

Briefly, he wondered if Jamie was Lord Calverton, and had indeed intended to ask for Cecily’s hand.
First Hugo, then Simon; the men of the Star Elite seemed to be dropping one by one. Archie swallowed harshly and felt the urge to tug his collar uncomfortably. There was no chance he was ever going to succumb to the parson’s trap, especially to a wilful female like Portia. The woman he eventually intended to settle down with would be biddable, dutiful, more than happy to spend her days looking after hearth and home, him and their children, and would agree with everything he decided. He had no intention of getting saddled with someone who wanted adventure, thrills and excitement; someone who was about as equally matched to hearth and home, as fire was to ice.

If only he could get his wayward body to co-operate and accept that Portia wasn’t for him, then he was fine and stood a chance of getting out of the current situati
on without embarrassing himself or doing something stupid, like offering for her hand. He had known her for less than a day and already she had him turning himself inside out. He didn’t like it.

“God help me,” Archie whispered, closing his eyes with a shudder as the memory of her in his arms swam teasingly before him.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Archie jumped as Portia’s warm breath swept gently across his cheek, and he scowled down at her in the darkness, aware that she probably couldn’t see him.

“You can help,” Archie snapped. “I want you both to promise that you won’t do anything stupid. This is serious ladies. Failure to do as you are told could very well get your throats cut.” He heard rather than saw them gasp. He hated to frighten them, but he wanted them to acquiesce to what he was about to suggest and, if their horror at his words helped him put some distance between him and Portia, then his sanity would be more than pleased.

“You’ll let us help?” Portia asked hesitantly, unsure why he was being so agreeable all of a sudden. She could smell a rat, but couldn’t quite make out why. Was he about to trick them? She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t see anything in the wretched darkness and suddenly felt the walls of the barn close around her to such an extent that she thought she would scream if she had to spend another moment in it
s claustrophobic walls.

“I need another pair of eyes on the village. If I station you at vantage points, all you need to do is keep an eye out for the
Guards. You know who you are looking for. They are dressed in black, and will be moving stealthily. Unfortunately, you saw one of them in the church. A few of them will have been sent out to search for you. Just keep an eye out for anyone skulking about.”

He had no doubt
that the Guards were indeed looking for the ladies, but whether they had remained in Tissington, or had followed them to Headingly, he couldn’t be sure. He hated to admit it, but they were as much at risk in the barn as they were outside, in the open. Sighing deeply, he considered how long it would take for reinforcements to arrive, and fervently hoped that Hugo would be at home when the message arrived. He would send a secondary message to Simon just in case but, until they arrived, it was down to Archie to keep both ladies alive and out of the Guards’ clutches.

He paused, one hand on the rough wood of the barn door and turned to glare back into the darkness. “Don’t move away from where I leave you. Don’t wander off, no matter how long I may be and please, for God’s sake, don’t alert anyone to your presence.” He knew his voice was harsh but didn’t care if either lady was offended at his dominance. “Stay together, and don’t question any order I give you when we leave this barn. Understand?” 

It was so dark, he had no idea if either lady had
meekly nodded, stuck their tongue out or ignored him completely. The quicker they were off his hands and into the safe care of Hugo and his associates, the better. He was far too aware of Portia’s presence in the barn and, despite the lack of light, felt himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Only on this occasion, he was determined he wasn’t going to be the one to get burnt. Although he couldn’t see her, he knew exactly where she was at any given moment, and that bothered him. He had never felt this connection to anyone before, and didn’t want it now.

Shaking his head, he puffed out his cheeks with a deep sigh and eased the door open, peering through the gap cautiously. Everything outs
ide was as it had been before. Motioning for the ladies to follow, Archie eased out into the night air.

Archie paused at the end of the road and leaned against the stone wall. He was still encased in shadows, but if anyone did look his way, they would see nothing more untoward than a stranger, leaning against a stone wall. Although his demeanour was as casual as he could make it, he was about as tense as he had ever been in his entire life.

Cold eyes ran the length of the main street that ran through Headingly. It was the same as any other nondescript English country village. Lines of higgledy-piggledy houses lined both sides of the narrow main road. Although few people were out and about, only a handful of the houses had candles flickering in the windows. Archie wasn’t sure what the hour was, but was fairly certain it was late in the evening. Loud laughter could be heard coming from the pub, across the road. Archie studied the shadows on either side of the two storey building and pushed away from the wall. The lack of mo
vement and moonlight would help him considerably tonight, as he could move about just as casually as the villagers, and not be noted. He wondered briefly if he should adopt one of the many disguises he had in his room, but decided against it. Knowing his luck, he would terrify the ladies who could cause a rumpus when he returned to collect them.

It took
only a few brief minutes before he closed the window to his room, and turned to study the mess before him. Someone had ransacked the small square accommodation. His clothing and a few personal affects were strewn here and there. Shaking his head, Archie moved to the door, noting that the door itself was undisturbed. Whoever had searched his room had gotten access to the key. They were closer than he had thought. He frowned briefly, considering the undamaged wood of the door frame while his mind raced.

He had arrived at Headingly several weeks ago
, and had adopted a disguise as a farm labourer who had come to the village to look for work. He had headed out before dawn and stayed out until after dark. Not unusual behaviour for a farm labourer. His disguise had worked well because so far, he had not encountered anything but mild curiosity from the villagers he had engaged in conversation. The story he had concocted had been realistic and, as far as he had been aware, he had done nothing untoward that would raise anybody’s suspicions.

But
evidently someone had been watching, and had undoubtedly taken advantage of his absence throughout the day to leave him a warning. He was fairly certain that the mess in his room wasn’t down to burglars. This was too contrived, too deliberate to be anything but a stark warning. Was it the Guards? Were they warning him that they knew where he was staying, and were watching?

Cursing fluidly, Archie’s thoughts flickered to the ladies he had left on the hillside overlooking the village. He fought the unfamiliar surge of panic at the thought of them standing unprotected, waiting to be collected. He could only hope that on this occasion, they would be collected by him
, and not the Guards. Swallowing harshly, he quickly packed his few meagre belongings and considered which way to go. Should he head casually out of the front doors, paying his dues with the innkeeper as he departed? Or, should he go back the way he came and hope there was nobody waiting for him at the bottom?

Sighing deeply, he quickly closed the curtains, and headed out of the room, hefting his pack over his shoulder. In the hallway, he studied the corridor to the left and right, weighing his options. The scent of pie and ale wafted tantalisingly under his nostrils and his stomach rumbled in protest. The ladies were most probably starving too. Decision made, Archie slowly descended the stairs, disappearing into the shadows at the bottom of the stairs like a ghost in the night.

It took him far longer than he would usually take to leave the sheltered protection of the inn. His nerves were stretched taught
while he moved stealthily from shadow to shadow as he passed down the alleyway at the rear of the inn toward the long row of terraced houses at the far side of the village. He could only hope and pray that the ladies had the wisdom to remain where he had left them.

Shaking his head, he cursed his own soft-heartedness as the scent of meat and gravy wafted up from his pouch. He should have left the blasted thing in the kitchens of the inn. Hunger wasn’t something he was unfamiliar with
, and he could cope without food for long periods of time, but the ladies didn’t seem to have much about them and certainly didn’t look as though they could survive missing meals.

Once again, the weight of Portia in his arms, and the ease in which he had swept her off her feet
, bothered him. She wasn’t overly tall for her height and at first glance certainly didn’t seem slim, but there was very little substance to her. Someone of Portia’s build should have more weight on her. Archie felt a flurry of disgust toward their father and wondered if they would ever cross paths. The man certainly had fed his daughters, but only enough for them to get by. They certainly hadn’t been eating enough to ensure that they were well protected against the elements, or any lingering illness. Ladies like Cecily and Portia should be well covered, not skin on bones. Shaking his head, Archie was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts as a flurry of movement at the far corner of the street caught his attention.

Mentally cursing his own lack of concentration, he slowed his gait to a casual walk, his eyes flickering from one house to another, scanning the shadows for signs of threat. He felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and knew that danger was imminent. Easing a hand to the gun on his hip, he cursed roundly with the knowledge that he had left it with the ladies. Dipping his hand into the pocket of his breeches, he palmed the small flick-knife he habitually carried, and squared his shoulders. The scent of the pie
was long forgotten as the threatening odour of danger became evidently real.

The closer he got, the more he became aware of two, if not three people lingering in the shadows. There was one on either side of the road up ahead, and at least one more beyond that. Archie wondered who was bringing up the rear, and had no doubt that someone was. Although he couldn’t hear them
, he could feel their presence. Closing out all thoughts of the ladies, Archie squared his shoulders and prepared for battle.

“I hate villages,” Archie muttered dolefully, wondering which one to take on first. His thoughts flickering briefly to the alleyway skirmish in Much Hampton that had damned near resulted in his death. At least then he had had Simon at his back. He wished Simon was there
with him now, or at least someone else from the Star Elite. Right now, he needed someone at his back.

He lowered the pack from his shoulder, clenching his fist around the material in his palm so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and was about to march forward, flick-knife in the other hand when he froze.

“Psstt.”

Archie’s
blood turned cold. Closing his eyes on a silent prayer, he turned his head slowly to one side and cursed fluidly.

“What the f
-”

“S
shh,” Portia whispered, beckoning toward her quickly from the darkness of the small yard she was standing in. The house behind her was dark and appeared to be empty. Archie didn’t bother to glance up and down the street, and practically dived through the gate, closing it behind him with a firm click. Portia scurried into the small outbuilding next to the gate where Cecily stood cowering in the darkness.

“I -
”

“S
shh,” Archie whispered. All of the swear words he had ever learned were flowing rapidly through his mind, and he physically trembled with the urge to punch something. He wanted to rage at them; scream and rant and rave at them for their stupidity. He was so livid that right now, he couldn’t have uttered a word if Hell had it. Clenching his back teeth, he held one palm upward to silence Cecily, and glared harshly at them both, shoving Portia too roughly into the darkness behind him.

He turned to stare at the doorway, memories of his ordeal in Much Hampton running wild in his
thoughts. He couldn’t risk the same thing happening again, especially with the ladies present. Last time he had been faced with this scenario, he had barely gotten out alive, and still carried the wounds that ached fiercely if he didn’t take his time. This time, he knew the odds were so far against them, that none of them could survive.

“Wait here,” he growled, throwing a filthy glare over his shoulder. Fingering his flick-knife
, he moved toward the door of the house, praying that for once – just once – luck would be on his side.

Within minutes he was silently pushing the door the house open. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Portia’s small hands clutched the back of his shirt. The urge to throw her over his knee and paddle her backside for not listening was so strong that he had to lean against the door for a moment while the ladies passed. Shaking his head, he closed the door quietly behind them, and locked it again for good measure.
The Guards wouldn’t risk a door to door search for fear of raising the villager’s anger. For now at least, they were safe. Well, he was safe. The ladies were in more danger from him right now than they were from the Guards.