The Lady Is Innocent (The Star Elite Series) (7 page)

“Did someone try to kill me?” She couldn’t understand what had happened, or why. “Did they not see me?” She asked in a small voice, growing alarmed by Pie’s continued silence.

“Let’s get you back to Crompton.” Pie pushed to his feet and drew her with him. He paused for several moments to wait to see if her legs were going to hold her up before he swooped down to pick up the pouch of coins that she had dropped. Right at that moment, he didn’t care if the creditor was the one driving the carriage or not, it was imperative that he get Florrie to safety, and quickly. He didn’t seem able to focus on anything except the sight of her disappearing under those huge wheels and the wild jumble of emotions that coursed through him at the thought that she might actually have been killed.

He was an experienced man of the world. He had been injured in armed combat more times than he cared to count
, and had killed or maimed more than his fair share of adversaries. It wasn’t something he was proud of but, given he had been in life or death situations at the time, was something he could live with. His actions had ensured he survived and, to him, that was what was most important. Still, after everything he had experienced in life, nothing had shaken him more than the events of this day. He was horrified and shaken to the very core at just how easily her life could have been stolen.

Cursing himself for taking such stupid risks with her life, Pie swept her into his arms. Ignoring her protests, he stalked almost angr
ily across the road toward their horses that were waiting on the other side of the small row of houses. He didn’t care what the creditor wanted today, he wasn’t going to get his bloody money until Pie decided to give it to him. After today, the stakes had just increased tenfold.

He wondered briefly just whether
Tabatha was behind this morning’s events. After all, as the woman who was sharing a house with Florrie, she may be desperate enough to consider that she would benefit financially in some way from Florrie’s demise.

“Put me down,”
Florrie protested, swiping at the tears on her cheeks.

Pie
flicked her with a warning look before turning his gaze back to the road before them. His face looked like it had been carved in stone. Florrie shuddered at the ruthless menace in his gaze and wondered what she had done to incur his wrath this time.

“Who do you think it was?” Why wasn’t he answering her?

“I don’t know, darling,” Pie replied in a husky rumble. “But I am damned sure that I am going to find out and, when I do, they are going to meet justice if I have to drag them there by the scruff of their blasted neck.”

Her return to Crompton was undertaken in strained silence. She didn’t know what to make of what had happened. Was Tabatha responsible? She had been shocked to learn that Tabatha had indeed had part of the first payment on her at Crompton. She couldn’t help but wonder if the older woman had known that the creditor follow her all the way to Melvedere to collect his money.

“Are you alright?” Pie asked for about the hundredth time since he had swept her off the road.

“I am alright, just a bit shaken,” she replied softly. She entered the study before him and collapsed onto the chaise in front of the fire before her legs gave out from under her. “Where are the others?”

“They will be back,” Pie announced gravely, pushing a brandy into her hand before refilling his own glass. God
, he had never been so shaken before in his entire life. He took a seat next to her and carefully clasped her hand in his. He needed a link with her, some gentle reassurance that she really was going to be alright. It was hard to tell from their clasped hands just exactly who was shaking the most, him or her, but it didn’t matter. She was alive and that was what was important at the end of the day. He stared down at her bloodied knuckles, his mind replaying over and over the horrific sight of her going under the carriage.

“I didn’t deliver the money,” she whispered, taking a tentative sip of the amber liquid. She winced as it scalded her throat on the way down. The sudden burst of warmth in her stomach did little to ease her churning emotions
and she wondered if she was going to be sick.

“I don’t give a damn about the money. If he wants it, he is going to have to come and fetch it because I am not going to allow you to put yourself in such danger again.”

Florrie felt a tiny thrill of delight at his protectiveness. “Do you think the coachman was the creditor?”

Pie sighed deeply and wished he had the answers. Right now, he needed them just as much as
Florrie did.

“Tell me
Florrie, and I want the absolute truth from you.” He paused and waited for her nod. “Do you owe the debt?”

Florrie
sighed and wondered what she would have to do to get him to believe her. “I don’t gamble, Pie. I have already told you that the debt is Tabatha’s.”

“
Tabatha said she had brought the money because she had no idea if your creditors were going to turn up and she wanted to help you.”

Indignation went a long way toward settling
Florrie’s nerves and she felt anger replace the consternation. “She is a liar and trying to off-load her problems onto me.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Pie about her cottage in Norfolk but, until he began to trust her a bit more, knew that she had to keep that to herself; for the time being at least.

She hated Tabatha then for her weaknesses and her duplicity. It simply wasn’t fair that the woman had involved Florrie in her problems.

“I promise you here and now that the gambler is
Tabatha.” Her voice was firm; her eyes sure and steady and Pie knew without a doubt that she was telling him the truth. Beside him wasn’t a woman who was lying. She may be shaken, she may be angered, but she wasn’t a liar. He mentally heaved a sigh of relief and nodded once.

“Good enough,” he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.

“If that was the creditor though and he thinks I owe him money, why would he want me dead? It doesn’t make sense.”

“You are right, it doesn’t make sense.” Pie hated to be the one to be the bearer of bad tidings but he had not lost sight of
Tabatha’s ruthless determination when she had demanded an interview with her niece last night. “Unless it was Tabatha,” he added gently, watching her carefully.

Florrie
froze, her glass half way to her mouth. She turned wide, horrified eyes on Pie.

“Do you really –” She couldn’t say the words. They were lodged in her throat somewhere and wouldn’t come out.
Surely even Tabatha, as cold and ruthless as she was, wouldn’t resort to outright murder, would she? She had briefly considered whether it was her step-aunt, but to hear Pie actually say the words made the possibility all that more realistic and it filled her with terror.

“I think it is a possibility that we cannot ignore right now. She is desperate
Florrie, and if she has it in mind that she may benefit in some way financially from your demise, we cannot lose sight of the fact that it makes her a very dangerous woman right now.”

Pie hated
to put the doubt in Florrie’s mind about her aunt’s devotion but knew that in reality, Tabatha didn’t give a damn about the woman beside him. He suspected Florrie knew that already but was too kind hearted to want to admit that someone she cared about could be that vile.

“Tell me something.” He glanced down at the swirling liquid in the glass. The myriad browns, coppers and
golds that shone in the firelight were mesmerising. “Why have you stayed with her for as long as you have? I mean, I understand you have an Uncle Silas. Why haven’t you moved to live with him for a while as soon as you learned of Tabatha’s problems?”

Florrie
sighed. “I felt a burden of responsibility really. Tabatha didn’t want me in the house when my parents died and made no bones about making her opinion clear. My uncle, although no better able to look after me, was at least prepared to give me a roof over my head and willingly hired a governess to look after me. I rarely saw them but when he passed away, I was the only relative Tabatha really had. I couldn’t just walk out on her.”

“When did it become clear that she had a problem?”

“I don’t know whether she was gambling when my uncle was alive. If she was, he certainly wouldn’t have discussed it with me. She continued to go out during the year of mourning, much to the consternation of those who knew her, but I don’t know whether she was gambling then. We have rubbed along together, that is about the best I can describe it.”

“So there is no love lost between you two?”

Florrie snorted derisively. “None whatsoever. I have decided to move to Norfolk,” she admitted reluctantly. She glanced furtively toward the door. Her eyes met and held Pie’s for a moment and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “This is strictly between us.”

Pie nodded. A thrill of delight that she was finally confiding in him made him temporari
ly forget that she should be recovering from her ordeal.

“When we leave here, I am going to return to
Tabatha’s house long enough to collect my belongings and then I am moving permanently to live with my uncle, Silas and his family.” It was the truth; sort of. She was in fact going to be living in her own home about a quarter of a mile away, but Pie didn’t need to know that. She still felt the need to protect her cottage with everything she had and that meant keeping the knowledge of her new home to herself for the time being.

She caught sight of the fine trembling of her hand as she lifted the drink to her lips and took a hearty swallow of
the amber liquid. The burning in her throat made her choke and she began to cough violently.

“God, don’t tell me that you have survived being run over by a carriage only to succumb to choking to death
on alcohol,” Pie drawled ruefully, grinning when Florrie whacked his knee and threw him a mock dark look.

Florrie
grabbed her throat and put the glass onto the table beside her. Her eyes watered and she sucked in huge gulps of air around the coughing. Pie began to rub her back as she hiccupped around the need to continually swallow the burning away.

“I take it
that you don’t drink either.”

Florrie
glared at him and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t speak; the amber liquid seemed to have burned half of her throat away.

“So you don’t drink; don’t gamble,” Pie murmured, eyeing her moistened lips hungrily. “Is there anything
that you do do?”

Florrie
froze and stared at him. She hadn’t forgotten his kiss earlier that day. Although she knew that he had been trying to calm her down, and his actions had worked, she wondered why he was now looking at her as though she was the only food for miles around and he was a starving man.

“Pie,” she whispered, only half pleading. She didn’t know what she was asking for. Was she asking him to stop, or carry on? She couldn’t tell; instead she remained silent and watched as his head moved closer to hers.

“Patrick,” Pie whispered, pausing only inches away from her lips.

Florrie
stared at him blankly for a moment, wondering who he was talking about.

“Say my name
: Patrick.”

“Patrick.”

“Good enough,” Pie murmured. His lips captured hers and he stole her breath for a second time that day.

Hugo trotted down the main street
of the nearby village of Brockington Mallow, his eyes scanning this way and that for any sign of the black carriage that had run over Florrie. Right now he didn’t know if he was searching for a reckless carriage driver or a murderer, or both. He hadn’t even bothered to glance behind him before he had given chase. He had heard Pie’s cry of warning, and knew that Florrie would receive the best of care from his men whatever the outcome had been. Hugo’s main concern was to find the driver of the carriage and discover who he or she was, and why in particular he had chosen to target Florrie.

He was about half
a mile out of the village when out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a black carriage standing in the middle of an old stable yard in a disused brewery.  Although the brewery had been disbanded some time ago and the out buildings were empty and abandoned, there in the middle of the old yard, was the carriage with the horse still tethered. At first glance there was no sign of the driver, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking somewhere. Drawing on all of his years training, Hugo kept his horse moving at a slow and steady gait. He couldn’t turn around and go back to ask the Star Elite for help. This time he was on his own, and it looked like it was going to be down to him to scour the buildings and try to find the driver.

Every instinct warned Hugo that he was close. He could practically feel eyes boring into the back of his head.
He outwardly appeared relaxed and unconcerned about anything as he turned down a side street and dismounted. However, once out of sight of the brewery buildings, he drew his gun and crept quietly around the small row of houses. He doubled back until he appeared at the rear of the brewery yard and stood in silence for several moments, studying the darkened buildings one by one.

It was around nine o’clock that night by the time Simon returned to Crompton. Pie took one look at the annoyance on his friend’s face and knew that nobody had turned up for the money.

“Not a sign of anyone,” Simon sighed, slumping into a chair wearily. He placed his feet on the fender of the hearth and wriggled his toes as he savoured the warmth for several minutes.

He glanced at Florrie and Pie, who were sitting considerably closer to each other than was otherwise correct for mere acquaintances, and mentally sighed that yet another member of the Star Elite seemed to have fallen under a lady’s spell. However, while he was pleased for Jamie and Cecily, and even Archie and Portia, he still had reservations about Florrie, and in particular that dubious aunt of hers. Trouble was brewing there, he was sure of it. They couldn’t lose sight of the body they still had to identify, and the fact that Florrie now appeared to have someone prepared to kill her to ensure she kept her secrets.

“
Has anyone heard from Hugo?”

Pie shook his head. “No, nobody has seen him since he headed out of
the village. If we don’t hear from him before midnight, Rupert and I will go out and look for him.”

A rather timid knock sounded at the
front door. Silence settled over them as they heard the butler’s footsteps as he answered the door. Seconds later, he arrived in the doorway of the study carrying another note.

“For you, ma’am.”

Florrie’s horrified gaze met Pie’s for several moments. She stared at the note as though she was staring down at a viper and made no move to take it off the efficient servant.

Pie was the one who murmured a quiet ‘thank you’ to the butler and relieved him of the note. Without asking
Florrie’s permission, he unfolded the parchment:

You missed the payment. Pay by dawn tomorrow or pay the penalty. Leave the money at the church.

Florrie didn’t want to read it but watched anger flood Pie’s face with a sense of dread. She stared at him and waited until his eyes met hers.

“Well?” Simon prompted when Pie lapsed into thoughtful silence.

“He wants his money delivered to the churchyard at dawn.”

Simon swore. “We can’t let her go to the church after what happened today, she is
too much at risk.”

“I agree.”

“Hello, I am here, you know,” Florrie snapped somewhat waspishly. “I am sorry to tell either of you, but I am not going to any churchyard ever again, least of all at dawn to pay a debt that I don’t owe. Tabatha can do it.”

Her tone was so determined that Pie smiled ruefully.
He couldn’t blame her for her reluctance. The fact that she didn’t want to go made his job considerably easier. At least now he didn’t have to talk her out of placing her life in danger again. “I agree with you, it is too dangerous.”

“Do we ignore it then?”
Florrie asked. “Or, do we send Tabatha? I think that it is only right that she should have to admit to her creditor that she was the one who ran up the debts.”

Pie knew that wouldn’t happen. If
Tabatha turned up with the money, she could just confirm to the creditor that she was called Florrie. It wasn’t something that Pie was prepared to allow to happen.

“I am not sure. We need to find out
what has happened to Hugo first. Then we can make a few decisions as to how we handle this.” He included Florrie in his gaze, purely so she understood that he was now going to be handling the matter on her behalf. The smile of utter relief she gave him warmed him to his very soul and he felt something cold and hard that had surrounded his heart for most of his adult life slowly begin to melt. He had no idea how she managed to twist him around her finger as easily as she did, but he couldn’t find it within him to find one iota of objection. The feelings she created within him were pleasant rather than painful, even if he had no idea where they were going to take him.

Jonathan appeared in the doorway. “We scoured the area.” He cast
Florrie a dubious look and lapsed into silence.

He clearly wasn’t prepared to talk in front of her but, as far as
Florrie was concerned, this involved her now. She was the one who found the body in the church. She was the one who had nearly been run over by a runaway carriage. She was the one who had been implemented in her aunt’s gambling debts. Although she was extremely grateful for Pie’s willingness to help, and his belief in her, she wasn’t going to just hand everything over to him without knowing what they were planning. She stared defiantly at Jonathan and ignored his raised brows.

“This involves me, and I am not going anywhere until I know what you are planning to do.”

Pie turned toward her and studied her closely. Although the doctor had declared her as fit as a fiddle and confirmed that she had suffered nothing more than a few bruises from her ordeal, Pie would have felt better if she had gone straight to bed to rest for a while. However, the mulish look on her face warned him that she wasn’t going to be persuaded to rest for a while. She had set her mind on being included in their discussion and wasn’t going anywhere until she knew exactly what they were going to do and when.

While
Florrie was busy with the doctor, Pie had taken the opportunity to meet with the staff. They had reported that Tabatha had spent the day being a particularly difficult guest to please, and had constantly rung the bell to the point that the butler had threatened to pull it out and choke her with it if she ever rang it again.

It effectively ruled
Tabatha out of being the carriage driver. If she had run up debts to the point that she was struggling to repay them, she could not afford the large amount of money she would need to pay someone to attempt to kill Florrie.

Unfortunately, that
also meant that Florrie had been targeted for some other reason. If she didn’t owe anyone any money either, and there were no other skeletons lurking in her closet like a maligned lover or anything, she could only have been targeted because she had been the one to find the body in the churchyard.

Was someone trying to silence her because she had seen too much? Or did
Florrie know more about the man she ‘found’ than she was letting on?

H
e didn’t know if it was just wishful thinking, but he struggled to put Florrie into the ‘cold-blooded murderer’ category. She just didn’t seem to fit. Besides, if she had killed the man in the churchyard, the attempt on her life in the village today didn’t make sense. If she had killed her adversary, who was the person driving the carriage?

“I don’t expect you to go and do anything without discussing it with us first
. I suppose it is only fair that you are involved in our discussions about your aunt’s debts, but you are not going to be privvy to Star Elite business.”

“Do you think someone tried to run me down because I found the body in the
churchyard?” Florrie asked, turning thoughtfully away from the fire to stare at Pie.

“I think that it is a possibility that we cannot ignore.” He sighed
deeply and gave her a rather direct stare. “Can you remember anything about that morning; anything at all that you may have forgotten? Did you see anyone else? Hear anything?”

Florrie
frowned and stared into the flames. She mentally ran through that morning in as much detail as she could muster, without thinking about the body and the blood, but eventually shook her head.

“I didn’t see anyone or hear anything,” she sighed, glancing at Pie
in confusion. “If the attempt on my life today is linked to the body in the churchyard, why hasn’t anyone tried to take your life, or Archie’s? You were both there too.”

“Because I wasn’t the one crossing the road at the time,” he grumbled. “I have no idea. I can’t see why the creditor
would want you dead if he wants his money back. After all, it is in his best interests that you meet the repayments because, as a woman, any money you left would go to the males in your family, not your aunt Tabatha.” He turned to Florrie with a scowl. “If you do die, who inherits?”

“My uncle, Silas.”

“He lives in Norfolk, you say?”

Florrie
nodded. Horror flooded through her as she caught Pie’s train of thought. “You can’t for one second think that Uncle Silas had anything to do with this! He is busy with his very profitable furniture business. He loves his wife and children and would never consider such a thing,” she gasped, pinning Pie with a rather argumentative look. “I won’t consider him as a possible suspect. Not only does he not need the money, but he isn’t that kind of man. Silas is the gentlest, kindest, sweetest man you could possibly meet.”

“Then why didn’t he take you in when you were orphaned?” Pie countered, unwilling to eliminate anyone from
their list of possibilities for the time being.

“He has eleven children of his own.”
Florrie watched Pie’s brows shoot upward and he stared at her with something akin to horror.

“Eleven?”
Pie gulped.

Florrie
nodded. “Although they would have taken me in without a qualm, Silas was trying to establish his business and, at the time, his wife was poorly having had the twins. The birth didn’t go very well and she was bed-bound for a while. It took a long time for her to recover. It was considered best that I go to Uncle Archibald’s house.”

Pie could see no reason for argument there, and lapsed into silence.

“So, we know that Tabatha won’t benefit financially from Florrie’s demise,” Jonathan added around a yawn.

“It points to the fact that she is the target of the murderer who took the life of the man in the church.”

Florrie stared in horror at Simon. He had made the statement so matter-of-factly that she wanted to remind him that this was her life he was cold-bloodedly discussing.

“Why though? I never saw anyone else,”
Florrie gasped. Panic began to grow at the thought that someone might actually want her dead. She knew that she had a lucky escape earlier that day but it hadn’t really dawned on her that someone might actually mean to end her life.

“They might think that you did though and, until we can find who they are, that makes you their intended target.” Simon sighed, feeling a little bit sorry for her.

Her gaze flew to Hugo who suddenly appeared in the doorway with a dark scowl on his face.

“Good God, we were just about to come out looking for you,” Simon drawled, rising to pour his colleague a brandy. From the dark glower on Hugo’s face, the news wasn’t good
. Although Simon would never admit it, he had started to grow concerned about Hugo’s whereabouts and it was a relief to know his friend was unharmed.

“Did you find anything?” Pie watched Hugo down the
brandy in one gulp.

“I found the carriage but it was abandoned. There was no sign of anyone. I checked in the local tavern
, but it was full and impossible to locate the driver we didn’t see.” Disgust was evident in Hugo’s harsh tones. He was clearly annoyed at being thwarted.

The battle hardened
angles to his face made Florrie shudder and edge a little closer to Pie.

“Where was it?” Pie asked, wondering which village he would have to tear apart
with his bare hands if need be.