A Warriner to Seduce Her

by Virginia Heath

  ‘Ah... My useless information proved not to be useless at all, then. I did wonder if I was responsible for my uncle’s irrational behaviour yesterday.’ She sank down to sit on the bed. His bed. The home of those fevered dreams and yearning. The irony was not lost on him. ‘Hardly a surprise, then, that suspicion fell on me.’

  Jake should have anticipated that and the guilt was instant. ‘I put you in danger and then wasn’t there for you.’ Instead, he had insisted on accompanying Leatham when he should have remained watching over her.

  For the first time since she had discovered his mission, Fliss smiled kindly. ‘I seem to recall I put myself in danger. You were dead set against it. Mind you, I might not have been so gracious had I known my uncle and his associates would happily kill me and those two dear old ladies out there to save his own sorry hide. Still, we escaped. I didn’t know where else to go.’

  ‘I’m glad you came to me. Fliss, I know now is not a good time, but I need to explain.’ Her eyes lifted to his—they were so troubled and sad he had to go to her, but as he sat down on the mattress beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to draw her into his embrace, she folded her arms across her chest and angled her body ever so slightly away from his. The message was clear. She didn’t want his comfort. Coming here had been a last resort. The knowledge cut like a knife into his poor, confused and ill-prepared heart.

  ‘There is nothing to explain.’ She stood and, still hugging her body, calmly put several feet between them. ‘They are dangerous men and the world will be a better place with them off the streets. You did what you had to do. What you are trained to do. We don’t need to discuss it.’

  ‘But, Fliss...’

  ‘Please, Jake, don’t.’ Her golden eyebrows pleaded with him to stop and her eyes glistened with pain, then both faded only to be replaced with that flat, emotionless stare which destroyed him.

  ‘We do.’ He rose and edged towards her, his palms flat, imploring. He owed her the truth. What she did with it was up to her, but if there was any hope for them it had to start with honesty. ‘To begin with, my pursuit of you was a mission, but from the outset I struggled with it. Before I knew who you were I was drawn to you, and then...’ He sighed, not quite knowing how to put it all into words. The feelings he had for Fliss were so new and so different from any he had wrestled with before. They had broadsided him. ‘I wish I’d been honest with you sooner.’ Although would he have been? Knowing there were messy and complicated feelings involved, he knew himself too well to believe he’d have done anything differently if he’d have had any whiff of what was happening to his heart. If anything, Jake would have panicked and doubled his efforts to seduce her quickly so that he could get away. He’d spent a lifetime avoiding the painful emotion which came when a man and a woman became too attached. ‘And I wish I had been able to tell you the truth myself. The way you found out...the timing...well, it was not as I would have wanted.’

  ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I wish I had never wandered into that alcove in Almack’s.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  She shrugged and walked to the window, denying him the chance to watch her face to know for sure. ‘I saw him. The Londoner, I mean. He was dark. Swarthy. His hair was black, I think, and he had bushy whiskers and a moustache. His nose was quite Roman. If I were to hazard a guess I would say it had been badly broken many times. He wasn’t as tall as you, maybe an inch or so off six feet, but much stockier. Very big hands. Very frightening.’

  Slowly, Jake had come to stand behind her. He resisted the urge to touch her, sensing it wouldn’t be welcome. ‘Information you can tell Lord Fennimore when he arrives. I want to talk about us.’

  ‘There is no us, Jake.’

  ‘I want there to be.’ When she didn’t respond, he risked putting one hand on her hip before allowing it to coil possessively around her waist. ‘I know I am the very last sort of man you want. I have a past. One I’m not particularly proud of now. But the truth is, my heart...’ His throat choked with emotion. Every messy and complicated feeling was suddenly clawing its way up his neck and demanding to be let out. It was both terrifying and humbling, but at least it was honest. She shifted round and was staring into his eyes so intently he felt vulnerable and exposed, and he couldn’t bear to see her expression in case she rejected him. Instead he closed his eyes. ‘The truth is my heart is yours now. I... I love you, Fliss.’ He exhaled, then instantly sucked in a breath to hold as he waited for her response.

  She turned away and her head fell back to rest on his shoulder while her eyes stared out of the window. For several long moments, they simply stood there. Jake waiting. Fliss thinking. When she stiffened he knew he’d lost.

  ‘I don’t trust you, Jake.’

  She gently prised his arm away and turned to face him again. He could see the doubt warring with some other powerful emotion. He hoped it was affection or temptation for him. Her lovely face was etched with pain. Seeing his wise northern owl with a broken wing of his making was eating him from the inside like a cancer. ‘Do you think you might be able to? One day?’ Again, she didn’t respond straight away which gave him some hope. The tiny flame warmed his battered heart. A decisive flat no would have taken no thought.

  ‘I don’t know, Jake.’

  That had to be enough until he worked out a solution and there and then he decided he had to find a solution. He had to find a way to make the badness good. A way to earn her forgiveness and her trust again. Even if it took him a lifetime.

  A lifetime!

  Good grief, he was doomed. Or blessed. Or just plain mad to be contemplating for ever with any woman, let alone the one who saw straight through him. Yet in her time of need, she had come to him first. That had to count for something.

  ‘I’ll make this right, Fliss. I swear it.’

  Her lovely eyes searched his for the truth and he held her stare this time, willing her to see it. Jake wanted to hold her and reassure her it would be all right. He took a step forward to do exactly that, but the soft knock on the door was followed by his valet’s voice.

  ‘Lord Fennimore is here and so are the others. There has been a complication, sir.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  On the Great North Road, bound for

  Nottinghamshire

  Fliss stretched out her aching neck and opened the carriage curtains. The sharp shard of sunlight made her wince and drop it back in place. This was the second sunrise she had witnessed in this carriage and the second night she had attempted to snatch a few hours of sleep on the uncomfortable bench as it sped north, barely stopping long enough to change the horses and fill their bellies with food.

  As uncomfortable as the three ladies were, every mile away from London couldn’t come soon enough. The more miles the better. Each one helped to relieve the enormous knot of fear which had formed in her chest when she had first learned she was a loose end to be tied and had doubled when she had learned that the Londoner had murdered her uncle for the very same reason and probably within hours of Fliss’s epic escape.

  Since then, the whole world had been turned upside down. At least that’s what it felt like. She was no longer a naïve schoolmistress from Cumbria or an unlikely spy for his Majesty’s government. Now she was a target. The only person still alive who could identify her uncle’s murderer and his links to the dangerous underworld he had become involved in.

  When the astounding news came that Uncle Crispin had been found hanging in his study within hours of her watching him, nobody believed it was suicide. Not when there were meaty hand-shaped bruises apparent beneath the silken bell-pull wrapped around his neck. Uncharitably Fliss knew he would have happily seen Daphne, Cressida and herself garrotted by convenient footpads to save his own skin. When push came to shove, he might have even done the deed himself, he was that cold and self-serving. So she couldn’t find it in her heart to grieve f
or him and fully blamed him for the danger she now found herself in. There was no room in her mind for grief; having a price on one’s head was petrifying.

  Thank the Lord she had escaped and fled to Jake’s, because he had been reassuringly adamant about her continued safety since Lord Fennimore, Mr Leatham and Lord Flint had arrived that morning at the Albany. At his insistence, they had left the capital that morning. The carriage they were travelling in bore the colours of the Post, so the sight of it speeding up the Great North Road would not arouse suspicion. Knowing he and Mr Leatham were driving it, that they were both heavily armed and that a huge escort travelled both ahead and behind them also made her feel better, although only marginally. Until she was safely locked within the fortress he had assured her he had grown up in, and many, many weeks had passed, she doubted the crippling and all-consuming fear would begin to subside. Lord Fennimore was hopeful Fliss’s final destination was obscure enough to be safe but, with what was highly likely to be an enormous bounty for her whereabouts, there was still the chance somebody might tell them she had gone first to the Albany and then from there perhaps they would link her to Jake.

  Another group was being led by Flint and headed further north to Sister Ursuline’s, to evacuate the school and lay in wait should the Londoner attempt to search for her there. Local battalions of Excise Men were also being drafted in to stand guard in Cumbria. Both Jake and Mr Leatham were of the belief the shadowy criminal behind it all, the elusive Boss, had men or informants from within their ranks and so involving the Excise Men while neglecting to apprise them of her true location would lure the men to the convent and ultimately to their arrest.

  As the carriage began to slow, Cressida stirred beside her and gazed bleary-eyed around the dim carriage. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘I have no idea, but it’s morning.’ Fliss lifted the curtain again and forced her tired eyes to adjust to the brightness. They were no longer on a main road. The narrow lane was flanked on either side by dense trees. Eventually, a twenty-foot wall loomed in the distance. When they passed through it there was an orchard, orderly lines of trees echoing with the sounds of children’s laughter. The carriage came to a halt and Jake jumped down. For the first time since they had begun this arduous journey, neither he nor Mr Leatham had warned them to keep the curtains closed as they had at the busy inns they had stopped at.

  Fliss took the opportunity to lower the window and poke her head out. Their scruffy-looking entourage rattled past the giant, sturdy gates which stood wide open. As the last cart of Mr Leatham’s Invisibles trundled through, Jake, Leatham and several men began to close them. It reassuringly took a great deal of strength.

  ‘I think you might be lost...this is private land.’ A man the spitting image of Jake, only slightly older, limping and draped with little dark-haired girls, approached the carriage. His deep blue eyes flicked to hers first, then towards the gate. ‘Jake? Is that you?’ The sight of his brother sporting several days’ worth of beard and dressed in the red uniform of the Post men clearly amused him. ‘Our big brother will be pleased that you’ve finally got yourself a job.’ His face fell when he saw the gates shut and he instantly wrapped his arms around his daughters. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Jake strode towards his brother and hugged him. ‘Too complicated to explain here. Where are Jack and Joe?’

  ‘Both at home as far as I know as it’s early, but you know Joe.’

  ‘Round them up, Jamie. I’ll see them inside.’ With that he climbed back in the driver’s seat and the carriage lurched forward again.

  Within minutes they had reached an impressive Tudor manor house and were met by servants at the door. Another dark haired and blue-eyed man came to greet Jake with a beautiful woman still in her dressing gown. A riot of blonde corkscrew curls hung loose over her shoulders. As the men talked she came towards them smiling. ‘I’m Letty Warriner—Jake’s sister-in-law. I can see you are exhausted. Come. Let us get you inside. Chivers, our butler, will fetch tea.’

  After that, Fliss and the Sawyer sisters were made a huge fuss of. Hot tea and breakfast came in quick succession, which Fliss fell upon gratefully, and then sighed with relief when she was shown into a beautiful bedchamber. A steaming bath had been drawn and wafted a deliciously floral scent about the room. A selection of clean clothes and a beautiful embroidered nightrail had also been laid out.

  ‘Jake said you haven’t slept properly for days, so if you want to sleep then please go ahead and do so. We are very informal here.’ Letty laid a soft hand on her shoulder and it appeared to have the power to trigger the waterworks. Tears streamed down Fliss’s cheeks and, to her acute embarrassment, she couldn’t appear to stop them.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be. You’ve been through an ordeal. I was kidnapped once, so I completely sympathise. I’ve often thought female tears are more a release of pent-up anger and frustration rather than a sign of weakness and from what I can gather you have been quite brave enough so far.’

  Another woman burst through the door at that exact moment, copper hair tied back in a single ribbon and her freckled face smiling. ‘Apparently we are in the midst of a crisis, or so my curmudgeonly husband tells me, so I brought cake. I know it’s early but everything is better with cake, don’t you think? I’m Cassie Warriner and I made this myself.’ The sight of the charmingly wonky concoction only made Fliss’s tears worse and she began to hiccup and snort as she wept into the pretty handkerchief her hostess had just pressed into her hand. ‘Clearly I’ve arrived just in time. I’ve sent Chivers for more tea. You can’t have cake without tea.’ Unfazed by her overtly emotional state, Cassie wrapped an arm about her shoulders and squeezed. ‘Get it all out. Bottling stuff up inside is never good. Bella will be here soon. She’s finding mornings a bit trying at the moment.’

  The butler scratched at the door and didn’t blink an eyelid at Fliss’s grizzling as he deposited the second tea tray on the bedside table. He was closely followed by a dark-haired woman who looked worryingly green around the gills. ‘Sorry I’m late to the party. I am counting the days till this morning sickness fades. Joe is adamant that it’s not unusual for it to continue past three months and it’s at least four months now and the slightest thing sets me off. Is that cake?’ She eyed it suspiciously. ‘Move it out of the way, Cassie, or I will disgrace myself in front of our guest.’ A guest who would welcome some company in the disgracing. ‘My goodness, you look pale...’

  A large black medical bag appeared out of nowhere and the third Warriner wife rifled in it. She produced three bottles. The first two she measured out on a teaspoon and dropped in Fliss’s tea. ‘A few drops of these should help with your mood. Gorse relieves despair and willow apparently eases the tendency towards self-pity. I mixed them with plenty of sugar so even if their therapeutic abilities are dubious they will make your tea taste nice. But this...’ Bella grinned and wiggled the third bottle ‘...is heaven in the bath.’ She pulled out the cork and, after depositing the whole bottle into the steaming tub, the scent of lavender tickled Fliss’s nostrils. ‘A nice cup of tea in the bath is just what you need.’

  ‘I happen to think my cake in the bath will be more beneficial than your grass in her tea, Bella.’ Cassie Warriner was already sawing off a slice which she placed on the side table she had dragged next to the bathtub, next to Fliss’s tea. ‘And then when you are fully refreshed we shall all gather again and get to know each other.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Letty as the three walked towards the door. ‘We are all intrigued to learn about your dealings with our dear brother Jake. None of us has ever seen him quite so...ferocious before.’

  * * *

  Joe was the last to arrive and took his place at the scarred kitchen table where they had always held important discussions. In the hours since Jake had come home, they hadn’t pressed him for information, merely aided him in making the grounds secure without questioning why. That so
lid, loyal reinforcement was exactly the reason he had brought Fliss here. When you messed with one Warriner, you messed with them all and together they had always been a force to be reckoned with, although he was dreading telling them all he’d been lying about for five long years.

  Jack’s quirked eyebrow signalled they had waited long enough. ‘Why have we battened down the hatches and why is there a small army encamped on my lawn?’

  ‘I’ve not been being entirely honest with you all.’

  ‘You don’t say?’ His elder brother folded his arms across his chest, a sure sign his patience was wearing thin. ‘There are a lot of guns out there for a mail coach. What the hell are you involved in?’

  There was no easy way of saying. ‘I suppose the best way of explaining it is to tell you that I’ve been working for the government. I have been since Cambridge. I belong to a secret branch called the King’s Elite. We work with the Home Office, the Foreign Office and alongside the Excise Men tracking large-scale smuggling operations.’

  Two pairs of blue eyes stared back at him agog. Only Jamie didn’t appear the least bit surprised. But then only Jamie had alluded to knowing the truth before.

  ‘And you’ve done this for five years?’

  ‘Yes, Jack. I was recruited almost as soon as I left university.’

  ‘Why?’

  Now came the part he was dreading. ‘They recognised that some of my skills might be useful in procuring difficult information.’ A painfully convoluted and shoddy description which he hoped might be enough. Typically, Jamie understood straight away because he’d done similar in the Peninsula, although he had nobly kept his clothes on.