Portia slumped back against the seat and felt her chin wobble. She felt Cecily move onto the bench seat beside her and clasped her sister’s fingers as they curled around her hand. Nothing was said, but Portia could feel the sad sympathy of her younger sibling, and it hurt more than words could say.
“It’s so odd,” she whispered, hours later when they were both tired and stiff from sitting so long. Although they had stopped twice for a change of horses, Archie had asked them to remain out of sight, and had furnished them with replenished baskets and drinks. When they had needed to stop off, they had paused only briefly to do the necessary before the horses where clicked into motion and they were off again.
“What is?” Cecily asked around a yawn. Her bottom had gone numb hours ago and the relentless trundling of the carriage wheels was starting to give her a headache, but she wouldn’t voice a murmur of complaint to add to her sister’s burden.
“I haven’t known him more than a day, yet I already feel as though I have known him all of my life.”
Cecily nodded, thinking of Lord Calverton. “I know what you mean.” Although the connection with Lord Calverton hadn’t been as strong, she had felt protected and feminine when with him. His sheer masculinity made her flutter inside whenever he was near, and it took all of her concentration not to become all giggly and girly. Now, having witnessed the brutality of the last day, she wondered if she could even remember how to giggle. The sight of the Frenchman’s brutal death was horrifying enough, but to witness Portia’s deep distress would remain with her for the rest of her life.
While growing up, she had been fully aware and had accepted that Portia was the strong one. The one who had always stood between Cecily and their father’s rages, but she had never realised just how strong Portia’s fortitude really was. Until she had witnessed the way in which she had drawn her scattered wits around her while knowing she had ended someone’s life. Cecily couldn’t help but wonder if her sister’s affection for the man driving the carriage was more the need to be sheltered from her own feelings rather than the need to attract his. It could only be a good thing when they were handed over to Archie’s colleagues and allowed to go on their own way.
“Just don’t expect too much of him, Portia,” Cecily began hesitantly. “The man is just doing his job.” She hated to say that they really didn’t know much about him. He could be married with four children at home.
“I know. He will hand us over and head back to his job without a backward glance,” she whispered on a sigh that was far more revealing than her words.
“You did say yesterday that you wanted a bit of adventure before you settled down,” Cecily replied ruefully after several long moments of silence.
Portia snorted inelegantly. “I think it is true what they say. You must be careful what you wish for.”
“Amen to that,” Cecily sighed, settling back against the squabs with a sigh of her own.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They arrived at the coaching inn later that day, and were escorted to a bank of three rooms at the very top of the inn. Archie purchased the entire top floor to stop anyone other than maids needing access to the last flight of stairs leading to the uppermost floors. Archie took the room directly opposite the stairs, with Cecily on one side and Portia on the other. He had no idea how long they would need the rooms, but suspected it would be several days before Hugo and Simon could send anyone from the Star Elite to fetch them. Until then, he had to be patient and bide his time, and hopefully keep his hands off the delectable Portia before he ended up having to take her to wife, for the sake of their children.
Sweeping his hand down his face, he felt the warm hands of weary exhaustion begin to sweep over him and smothered a huge yawn.
“Why don’t you get some rest?” Portia murmured gently from beside him. He jumped, having not heard her approach him. Every sense he possessed seemed to be tuned to her every movement and had been since the moment he had first clapped eyes on her and it went some way toward proving just how tired he was that he hadn’t heard her approach.
“Both Cecily and I could do with a nap, so we are going to head to our rooms. Unless you have anywhere in particular you need to go, I suggest you get some sleep too. When it is time for dinner, we will wake you and ring for trays to be sent up but, until then, you need to rest.” Portia didn’t add that he would be practically useless if they were attacked by Guards while barely able to remain standing. Although he was still upright, his eyes were red rimmed and there were dark shadows beneath his warm brown eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Archie sighed and studied both of the women carefully. They both looked exhausted and he realised then just how much he had pushed them both over the past two days. They were relative innocents who were accustomed to the slow, ordinary pace of life in the country. Neither woman was built for a haphazard life of tearing around the country, travelling for hours on end with little sleep and virtually no comfort. Although the carriage he had purloined had served its purpose, it wasn’t lost on Archie that it was minus a few of the luxuries, like lavishly padded seats, or even well fitting straps to hold yourself upright with when bouncing around on the pot-holed country lanes.
“Alright, as long as you promise not to venture off without waking me.”
Within seconds of entering his room, he was flat out on the bed, fast asleep.
Portia entered her own room with a sigh. It was the first time in two whole days that she had really been alone. With no change of clothing and no nightgown, she washed off the thin layer of travelling dust and lay down on the large bed. As the soft mattress settled around her, her thoughts inevitably turned toward the last few hours and she felt the cold wash of reality sweep over her.
Slowly sitting upright in bed, she stared blankly at the wall opposite and thought over Archie’s comments at the coaching inn only that morning. He knew all about their plans to leave their father’s care and head off on their own. How? Events had unfolded around them so quickly that neither she nor Cecily had had the time, much less the will, to discuss the matter further. So how had Archie known? Was he spying on them? Once again, his sudden appearance in the lane behind her was startling. At the time she had been carried along by circumstances beyond her control, but just how long had Archie been following her? He seemed to know far more about her than she did about him, and it unnerved her.
Despite the tiredness that plagued her, Portia couldn’t settle. After several long minutes of tossing and turning, her thoughts wouldn’t turn off long enough to allow her to fall asleep. Although she had slept in the carriage, the sleep had been fitful at best. She should be sound asleep by now, but for some reason she couldn’t relax. Easing her legs off the bed, she padded over to the window.
Archie had not said anything about staying away from them, besides they were miles away from Tissington and anyone they knew. It was highly unlikely that the French Guards had followed them this far and, even if they had, wouldn’t storm the inn to get to them. Still, Portia hid behind one of the shutters and peered down into the street below.
Several carts were carrying an array of barrels, goods and people in every direction. Stall holders were shouting their wares, holding up shoes, fripperies and baked goods for buyers to see. Children’s laughter joined the cacophony of shouting, teasing and animals as the towns folk tried to make the most of the day.
It was only then that Portia realised just how much of a closeted lifestyle she had really lived. Although she had been to a town once or twice in her life, she hadn’t been allowed to stay long, much less mingle and absorb the smells and sounds of a busy thoroughfare such as this one. Her days had been spent keeping house, baking and looking after their father. A surge of anger swept through her at the years she had lost because of one man’s selfishness.
Immediately, she felt a wave of disgust at herself for her own wayward behaviour toward Archie. She had practically thrown herself at him yesterday, and the knowledge was humiliating. He might be m
arried to his job, but he was clearly also too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a woman, especially her, and for that she could only be grateful. Heaven only knew what mess she would be in right now if he had taken her up on what she so readily offered him.
Was she really attracted to him? Or was her need to seek shelter in his harms purely down to the events of the last few days. She couldn’t ignore the fact that she had killed a man in cold blood. Would she be arrested for murder? It was a very real possibility. Although it was done to protect Archie and Cecily, a man now lay dead because of her actions. She couldn’t simply expect to walk away. Was that why Archie had said that nothing could happen between them? Was he taking her to face trial?
She felt the sharp pang of tears and made no attempt to stop them as they slowly trickled down her cheeks. Swiping them away, she sucked in a huge breath, and wondered what the future really did hold for her. If she was to face trial for murder, the chances are she would be sent to prison. The judges might be lenient on her for killing a French man who was threatening to murder one of their soldiers, but murder was murder, and she couldn’t expect anything but the harshest of punishments.
It was little wonder Archie didn’t want to deepen any association with her. He would undoubtedly be glad to see the back of her. She was mortified at her own wanton behaviour, and vowed there and then never to allow it to happen again. It wasn’t fair on Archie, who had done nothing but put himself out to protect both her and Cecily.
How long she stood there tucking her feelings carefully away, she wasn’t sure, but the sun was high in the sky by the time the stiffness in her legs began to seep into her thoughts. The walls seemed to constrict around her, sucking the life out of her. In that moment she made a decision. If she was to spend the rest of her days confined in a jail, doing penance for her brief moment of bravery, then so be it, but she was going to enjoy what little sunshine she could, while she could. A small voice of warning reminded her of her promise to Archie, and she paused long enough to leave him a brief note. Hopefully she would be back in time to throw the note into the fire so he would never know of her brief escape. She felt so restricted, so confined, that she would go mad if she had to remain inside a moment longer. The desperate need to feel the sun on her face was almost tangible and she could deny it no longer.
Within minutes she was standing outside the front door of the inn, watching two children laugh and jostle each other as they ran past. Their faces were alight with joy and were so carefree that she suddenly felt far older than her own four and twenty. Leaving the safety of the building, she began to slowly meander past the stall holders, studying their wares and shaking her head at the persistent sales tactics. Tugging her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she spied a small stream running past the green area at the end of the road and began to wander that way. She had no money on her with which to purchase anything, but that didn’t bother her. The sights and sounds of the busy market town, bustling with activity, were a revelation and she wanted to simply absorb the mundane hustle and bustle for as long as she could.
She eventually reached the small patch of green beside the stream, and took a seat on the bank, her back to the wall of the haberdashery shop. The sounds of the trickling water against the rocks was soothing to her senses as she absorbed the hails and calls of the traders, mingled with the lowing of the cattle and bleating of sheep.
“What the hell are you doing?” Archie growled, wavering between sinking to his knees and crying with relief and dragging her across his lap to paddle her backside.
Portia gave a guilty start and glared defiantly up at him, determined that Archie wouldn’t destroy her enjoyment of the afternoon. She had watched several people pass by and not one of them had given her a second glance. As far as she knew, she was at no risk whatsoever. There was no reason for Archie to glare at her so angrily.
“I-”
“Get up this instant,” Archie snarled, his fingers curling and uncurling with the urge to grab her and kiss the living daylights out of her.
Portia pushed slowly to her feet, reluctant to incur his wrath yet determined that he wouldn’t dictate her every waking moment. Brushing out her skirts, she gave him a few moments to rein in his temper.
“I swear to God, you test the patience of a bloody saint,” Archie growled, grabbing hold of her elbow.
Portia dug her heels in and yanked her arm out of his grasp. “You may have gotten us away from the French, but you won’t dictate my life,” she spat. “I am not your charge, and I don’t take orders.” She lifted a finger when he took a breath to argue. “If I choose to do something as innocent as absorb the sight and sounds of the market in broad daylight, then I have every right to do so, and not even you are going to stop me.” She huffed haughtily at him, and swept her skirts to one side as she edged around him and marched off, not caring if he was going to follow or not.
She wasn’t sure where her anger came from but didn’t have the heart to question it. She had enjoyed her brief foray into a normal life, and not even Archie was going to spoil it. While she had been outside, she had kept watch for anyone who looked anything like the men who had kept such close watch the night before, but hadn’t seen anyone untoward. Although she could understand his need to keep her safe, she couldn’t allow him to decide where she was going to go and what she was going to do at every waking moment.
Rather than return to the inn as Archie undoubtedly wanted, she drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders and slowly meandered back through the market place, aware that he dogged her every footstep.
Archie was seething. He was so angry that he was certain he had steam coming out of his ears. If there hadn’t been so many people around, he would have tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to the inn. As it was, he was left to tag along like some puppy as she wandered from one stall to the next without a care in the world.
“Do you want to die?” Archie snapped, grabbing hold of her elbow when his patience evaporated completely.
Portia turned to stare up at him with such sad eyes that his temper practically vanished in an instant.
“What is it? What upsets you so?” He glanced around them, but couldn’t see anything untoward. “Has someone -”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Portia sighed, unsure how to phrase the question she most needed the answer to. “Tell me Archie, am I likely to be sent to prison?”
“For what?” Archie’s mind raced with possibilities. He was fairly certain she hadn’t been gone too long before he had realised she had ignored his orders – yet again. She couldn’t have done anything that bad in such a short space of time, surely to God.
“For killing that French man, yesterday.” She raised such soulful eyes toward him that he couldn’t stop himself from drawing her out of the busy thoroughfare and into his arms. Pulling her as tight against his chest as he could, he rocked her as she quietly wept against him. It dawned on him then why she had escaped the room. The cold reality of what she had done had hit her, and she had felt the need to escape the horrors. He knew and could fully understand what she was going through. He had been there himself.
Allowing her a few moments of weakness, he slowly eased her away just enough so he could tip her head back until she was looking up at him. He slowly dropped a kiss onto her quivering lips and rested his head briefly against hers. It was all he could allow himself to do. The urge to take her to bed and simply comfort her without the encumbrance of clothing was so strong that he physically shook with the need to return to the inn. But that was the last thing she needed right now, and would undoubtedly hate him for it later when the worst of the shock had worn off.
“I think, my darling, that you are worrying for nothing. You cannot ignore the fact that we are at war. The man you killed yesterday was smuggled into the country to spy on our war effort. He has lethal contacts that are willing to kill anything, and do whatever they need to do in order to ensure their mission is a success. They have killed numerous peo
ple, including men, women and children. Most of who aren’t soldiers, or fighting wars and who have happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he knew he shouldn’t tell her as much as he had, but simply had to reassure her. The sight of her deep rooted fear unmanned him and he couldn’t allow the cold shadow of prison to accompany her waking hours.
“Although we could have done with him alive for a while longer, his loss isn’t anything that the government will seek retribution over. After all, you did what you had to do to protect me, an agent working for the government, and innocent parties, from certain death. The powers that be will sweep it under the carpet, I promise.” Archie knew he had some explaining to do as to why Manton wasn’t taken in for questioning but, if he was honest, the ruthless Frenchman wasn’t the kind of person who would have caved in to even the most intense barrage of questions.
“I cannot just get away with it,” Portia gasped, aghast at such a possibility.
“It is war, darling. You just have to accept that you have brought about justice for the hundreds of innocent deaths he has caused. There will be no punishment except by your own conscience.”
Portia sighed, unsure what to make of the latest news. Although she was greatly relieved she wouldn’t spend the rest of her days in prison, she didn’t feel it was just and proper that she had killed a man and would go unpunished. Still, as Archie had said, her own conscience would never allow her to accept her actions or become complacent about them, and he probably had a point. If she hadn’t done what she did, they could all be dead by now. But the thought brought her little comfort.
“Now, I think we need to go back inside and have some dinner.” Archie watched as Portia jumped and glanced up at the swinging Crown and Thistle sign, startled that they had returned to the inn so quickly, seemingly without her noticing.
His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) Page 11
