His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) (19 page)

It took far too long for that chance to appear as far as Portia was concerned. As each mile passed, she began to shift uncomfortably, considering just how long it would take her to cover the distance back to the jail on foot. Still, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. She shivered as the darkly menacing figure before her turned to study her once more. He looked like the grim reaper. With no physical attributes and no sign of any facial features except for the glitter of narrow eyes, the sinister tension that emanated from him was positively terrifying.

She had come this far though, thwarted French murderers and spy smugglers, and brutal Guards by the side of a road. She wasn’t going to go meekly by the hands of a single kidnapper, no matter how dark and threatening he looked. When a flash of lightening jagged across the darkening sky, she chose her moment. The man’s horse jolted and jostled as the sky was lit by the jagged bolt of lightening. While the man was busy soothing his horse, she slid to the ground and immediately lunged for the hedgerow. Without the bindings, she was able to draw the folds of the cloak around her and take to her heels. She wasn’t aware of the man having heard her, and shoved roughly through the hedge into the field beyond. Once there, she ran for her life, back toward the town that now lay far too many miles away.

“NO!” She screamed, when two large arms grabbed her around the waist and she was dragged relentlessly down to the ground. The heavy thump as she landed on the floor winded
her. What was left of the breath in her body left her in a whoosh as the heavy weight of the man landed on her back. She began to fight for her life.

Twisting around, she lashed out, her fist landing with a satisfying thump on the side of his head. She felt rather than saw him wince, and landed a couple of more hits before her wrist was captured in one large palm. She began to wriggle and squirm beneath him, her free hand pushing frantically at his chest. The low groan that escaped him when she lifted her leg gave her the courage she needed to push against him as much as she was able
until, using his sheer weight and strength he gradually secured her hands above her head. Her legs were trapped beneath his; her weight held still by the heavy length of his. Her eyes spat shards of green fire as she glared at him, wishing she had thought to rip off his disguise and unmask him for the true coward he was. Instead she was left to peer into the dark shadows of his hood.

When his hold on her wrists loosened, she began to squirm with more force and managed to wrench free one of her hands, succeeding in her goal of loosening his scarf.
Rather than revealing his face though, she watched in horror as his head lowered toward hers. The world went dark as her face was encased in the depths of his hood. Her heart hammered in her ears and she felt a brief flutter of hot breath against her cheek moments before his mouth landed on hers. Her initial gasp of horror was immediately replaced with confusion. The kiss was so reminiscent to the one Archie had given her in the hotel room that for a brief moment, she wasn’t sure if the man holding her captive wasn’t actually Archie himself. But that was impossible. He would never resort to such underhand and terrifying tactics. Would he? Could he? 

Portia swallowed and, despite the gentle plundering of her mouth, wrenched her head to one side. Her breath sawed in and out as she fought to control the confusion mixture of emotions that swept through her. She wasn’t ignorant of the fluttering of familiar need that had begun to curl warmly in her belly, but that was impossible given her current situation. The man wasn’t Archie. Was he? She simply had to know.

“Let me up, Archie,” Portia gasped, her voice cold and hard. She was taking a gamble, but she had to know if it really was him. If it wasn’t, she had lost nothing. If it was Archie, then she simply had to know what the last few minutes had been all about and why he had terrified her so.

Archie mentally swore and stared down at her. She was far paler than he had ever seen her and briefly wondered whether he should carry on with the subterfuge – at least until he could get them to safety.
His conscience had already begun to bite him back in the town when she had lost the contents of her stomach from the rough treatment she had received. But his temper wouldn’t allow him to relent just yet. She had brought this upon herself, for the risks she had taken with her own life. It irked him that despite everything, she still didn’t trust him enough to listen to what he was telling her and believe him. He had told her it was dangerous to venture out, so what did she do? Go out on her own.

Shaking his head, Archie cursed himself for several kinds of fool and hauled himself to his feet, dragging her along with him.

At least the horses hadn’t run for cover
Archie thought, tossing Portia into the saddle before mounting his own horse. He knew she couldn’t see the glare he threw at her, but felt a little mollified at being able to give her one anyway. In reality he wanted to lambast her until her ears rang, but now wasn’t the time. There was nobody around for miles. He knew, because he could see every field around them, three fields along in either direction. Anyone watching was doing so from a long way away and would take a long time to get to them. For now at least, they were safe. Archie loosened one of the straps from his belt and tied her hands together in front of her, tight enough for her to understand that there was no use trying to get free, and high enough so she could still hold on to the saddle to stop herself falling off. Just in case she didn’t get the message, he eased back the folds of his cloak to reveal the gun on his hip. He watched her gulp as she caught sight of his intended threat and nudged his horse in front of her.

Shaking his head, he felt slightly cruel at continuing with the subterfuge but reasoned that the woman didn’t know how to help herself. He would have the wrath of the Star Elite on his head if he let anything happen to her, even if his own heart ever recovered from losing her.

Unfortunately, having watched her leave the prison gate, he had no doubt that his heart was involved.

He didn’t like it. There was nothing to say that he had to like it, and it was galling to know that there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. There was no way out of his current mess
. It was as important as his life’s blood to keep her alive, no matter how many stupid risks she took. If he had to drag her there by her hair, he was going to take her to place of safety where he could spend a few days with her, away from the threat of spy smugglers, and offer for her hand before ruining her completely. He didn’t want to have circumstances unfold around them that would force them into matrimony. He wanted her to accept the position as his wife because it was something she wanted to happen.

He had already seen just how strong willed she was
, and the lengths she would go to in order to escape the constricting boundaries life placed upon her. Indeed, if she hadn’t been pushing at the walls of her daily confinement back in Tissington, they wouldn’t be in this situation now. The lady had said at the time that she wanted adventure before she settled down. Well, now, she was getting her adventure - in spades. Archie could only hope that after this, the last thing Portia would ever seek to find is a life of adventure and excitement. He would be more than happy to settle down beside her and enjoy the mundane home life of a family man.

A small part of him wondered if he would be bored by such a lifestyle. He had spent so many years working for the Star Elite on one assignment after the next that, apart from a few days here and there, he had yet to spend any time in his ancestral home,
Monkton Castle. The upkeep of his home was left to a veritable army of staff, and his man of business. It was more than big enough to accommodate a growing family and would be the perfect place to raise his children. But was he able to settle into a life of family and farming?

If he was honest with himself, h
e couldn’t think of anything worse. Until Portia crashed into his life, settling down was the last thing on his mind. Now, just over a week later, he was considering changing his entire lifestyle just to be with her. Although he couldn’t walk away from the Star Elite just yet; they were still at war after all, he couldn’t put his private life on hold indefinitely. At some point the war would be over – what then? He had no doubt the Star Elite would be around for years yet. As soon as the war was over, there were other issues blighting the country that could use the services of highly trained operatives such as themselves. He could be in the Star Elite for as long as he was physically able to carry out his duties, but did he want to spend his days lurking in trees, studying the shadows and keeping a wary eye over his shoulder?

Gla
ncing back at her, he almost felt sorry for her predicament. As the miles passed, her shoulders began to droop and her head dip until her chin was almost touching her chest. She looked the picture of dejected misery, but Archie wasn’t falling for it. If she was worried for her immediate future, then good, the next time she considered going off on her own, she would probably think twice, especially if she had been told it was too dangerous. If she was stiff and uncomfortable, then even better, he had aged ten years in the brief amount of time he had needed to arrange the cloaks, saddle the horses and hurriedly make his plans to kidnap her without getting himself arrested. 

Luckily, he had already discussed a route to
Monkton with Pie, using overnight stop off points that would keep them away from prying eyes, and major towns and villages. They were going to use homes of associates and trusted people they knew, but now that was impossible. With both him and Pie to protect her, they could use the guise of escorting a witness to a place of safety. Now there was just Archie, turning up on anyone’s door and asking to be accommodated would call her reputation into question, and he couldn’t risk that. They were at least fifty miles from Belvedere, longer if they took a circuitous route to get there. They had at least two nights out on their own. If he could trust Portia not to try to creep off on her own in the middle of the night, he would find them an old barn or something to stay in. As it was, they were going to have to keep moving, leave the horses somewhere and continue on foot for as long as they were able to put one foot in front of the other. If Portia needed to rest, she was going to have to do it at Monkton.

Archie winced as his conscience pricked him once more. He couldn’t
be so cold hearted to treat her in such a way. Instead, they would have to find a tavern in a small village somewhere and furnish the innkeeper with enough coinage to buy his silence.

Portia lapsed into sullen silence. Fear had taken root when she had called the man Archie and he had ignored her. Clearly
, the man wasn’t Archie, and that thought terrified her. She also knew that he wasn’t big enough to be Pie, who was several inches taller and broader in the chest. So who was he? What did he want with her? She wondered briefly if it was Jamie, but that didn’t make sense given that Jamie had offered for her sister, Cecily.

None of the men she knew would have
done to do what this man had, right under the noses of the townsfolk who had seemed oblivious to what was happening. How did she get kidnapped in the middle of the day without anyone noticing? Why hadn’t any of the townsfolk come to help her? It had been clear to anyone looking that she had been gagged and tied up, so were they all blind? Or were they just so disconnected from life that they didn’t want to know, or didn’t care about what went on around them?

She sighed once more and glanced about them. The skies had grown darker and now looked positively ominous. At any moment they were going to burst and they were going to be caught out in the ensuing deluge. As far as she could tell there was nothing around them for miles. They hadn’t passed anyone since leaving the walls of the jail. It was as though everyone else in the country had simply vanished, including the French spies.

The first drops of rain began to splatter onto the ground around them. Although Portia was wrapped in the folds of the cloak, she felt the chill in the stiff wind that increased in ferocity, tugging relentlessly at the thick material. Clutching it with tight fingers, she glared at the back of the man in front, watching as he turned around to check on her again. He had no sooner turned to face forward than he kicked his horse into a trot, leaving Portia to grab wildly at the saddle to prevent herself from falling off. Glaring at his back, she clung on for dear life, hating him with all of her heart as they increased their pace.

It was only when they rounded the bend in the road that Portia saw his intention. There, only a few feet ahead, was a single building. The swinging sign above the front door identified it as the Rose and Crown Inn. It was tiny, to say the least. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary house and, if it wasn’t for the sign outside, and the man in front who seemed to know it was there, Portia would have ignored it.
She had little choice but to follow her kidnapper as he took them around the side of the inn into a small yard at the back.

Dragging her out of the saddle, he left her standing in the yard and led the horses into the shelter of two rickety stables beside another outbuilding, taking a few minutes to settle them. Portia huffed at being left standing out in the rain and turned to glare longingly at the gate she had just come through. Should she run into the inn and tell them that she had been kidnapped, and they should fetch help? She had no doubt that if she even took two steps, the man would be before her. She glanced around
the yard, looking for anything she could hit him with, and was considering which object would do the most damage. The silent way he appeared beside her made her jump. She only just managed to stifle the scream that lodged in her throat as he placed a hard palm in the middle of her back and propelled her toward the tavern’s back door.

Once inside, Archie kept one hand on Portia’s tied wrists, planting
himself firmly in front of her. Carefully removing the folds of his scarf, he beckoned to a maid that scurried past the doorway and screamed at the sight of him standing there dressed entirely in black. Immediately a big, burly inn keeper appeared in the doorway, roughly pushing the frightened maid out of the way.  The dark scowl on the man’s face was replaced with wary suspicion as Archie motioned him close enough to whisper in his ear. The gold coins that vanished in the man’s meaty grip got him what he wanted and, within seconds, the scared maid was scurrying up the stairs without bothering to wait to see if they were following.

The inn keeper was true to his word. Archie wasn’t aware of anyone watching them as they made their way up the back stairs toward one of only three guest rooms the inn provided. Nodding carefully at the maid, Archie held out a coin and offered her is most placating smile, but was unsurprised when it did little to ease her fears and she scurried off without a backward glance.

He was tired, cold, wet and thoroughly fed up. His patience was wearing thinner than he could ever remember and the last thing he wanted now was for Portia to start to create a scene, but Archie knew that there was nothing for it. He could hardly continue with the subterfuge now that they were in the relative safety of the inn. He had to reveal the truth to her, and remind her that she had in fact brought this afternoon upon herself.

Pushing her into the room before him, he followed her in, making no attempt to replace the scarf that hid his face from view.

Portia turned and gasped. The wave of relief that swept through her at the familiar sight of Archie hidden in the depths of the cloak was immediately replaced with rage. Her mouth opened, closed and opened once more as her mind struggled to find the words she needed to say what she felt at that moment.

“Don’t bother,” Archie snarled, yanking off his hood and glaring at her. Dragging the scarf from around his neck, he tossed it with disgust onto a chair beside the bed and began to remove his cloak. “You brought it upon yourself.”

“I
what?”
Portia screeched, her fists clenching into tight balls of fury.

“Keep your voice down
, unless you want half the tavern to come and investigate. I warn you now that if there are any French Guards down there, spy smugglers, or anyone else, they can bloody well have you,” Archie snapped, placing his hands on his hips as he glared at her. “I know one thing for damned sure, I won’t be fighting them.” With that he threw his cloak onto the chair and sat down on the side of the bed to tug off his boots.

“I can’t believe I ever asked you to fight them for me,” Portia declared flatly. The urge to hit him upside the head was so strong that she
trembled with the need to lunge across the bed at him.

“Ha! I don’t believe I had much bloody choice, did I?”

“Well you were free to leave at any point,” Portia growled, waving toward the door. “I didn’t ask you to bring the might of the spy smugglers with you. If you had let me go on my way in the church, I would have gone home to my father’s house and be in Tissington by now.”

“What? F
acing marriage to an old man who is twice your age?” Archie shook his head, launched from his seat and turned toward her. “Oh, I only want one adventure before I have to settle down,” he mimicked in a high-pitched parody of her voice. “Well, you have had your adventure. You are in it right up to your pretty neck, and you are dragging me along for the ride, are you happy now?” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and broached the topic that was really fuelling his anger, refusing to be appeased just yet. “I do believe you were told by everyone that you had to stay in the bloody prison walls for just a little longer. I didn’t realise at the time that you were unable to absorb anything but your own thoughts.”

“Excuse me?” Portia gasped, her cheeks flushing with indignation.

“Back in Headingly, you were told to stay in the room. It was only for a little while, and would keep you and Cecily away from danger. What did you do? Head off for a little wander.” Archie shook his head in disgust and began to pace backward and forward. It was either that or he would shake her only if he laid hands on her. “Back at the jail, all you had to do was wait for a few hours more but no, not you.” He snorted in masculine disgust. “You had to risk your bloody life, and mine, looking for blasted ribbons!” He knew he was shouting, but fury was flowing through his veins like molten lava and there was nothing he could do to vanquish it.

“You had no right to kidnap me from the street,” Portia gasped, thinking of her vomiting spell by the side of the road. “I am not a prisoner, you know. You cannot expect me to just
si –”

“I bloody well expect you to do as you are told!” Archie bellowed, pointing one long finger at her.

Portia glared at the long digit inches from her nose, and pushed it scornfully out of the way. “You have no authority to tell me what to do.”

“What do you want me to do? Send for your father and tell him to come and fetch you?” Archie knew that was the last thing he would do for her, and would kidnap her again – against her wishes if need be, to prevent her tying her life to any old man.