Portia reluctantly climbed up onto her horse and sat warily waiting for Archie to draw alongside. He held the rope that tied the Guards together and, when they didn’t at first appear to be agreeable in following, Pie’s hearty nudge pushed them into motion.
“Stay beside me,” Archie urged when her horse moved to fall in behind his. Reaching out a hand, Archie caught hold of her horse’s reins and drew her alongside him. He didn’t want her riding too close to the men who had tried to kill them, even though they were tied up, but he suspected that his need to keep her close was because of the mental image of her fighting them off single-handedly. It would haunt him for years to come.
Portia was more than happy to comply. As the horse began to mosey alongside his, she once again began to relax into the saddle.
The sun had broken through the clouds high above, and bathed them in a warm glow as they meandered through the lush fields. To anyone watching they were a strange sight indeed, but Portia didn’t care. She wouldn’t have traded those few moments for the world. Once or twice Archie glanced over at her to check she was alright, and she shared a gentle smile with him. It was enough to make her heart sing, and just enough to help her forget the belligerent gazes of the dozen French men they were dragging along with them.
Despite the cries of protest from their prisoners, Archie pushed onward toward Tolbridge with a determination that was ruthless. He had no intention of being caught out in the dark with their prisoners and Portia. It wasn’t that he minded being in the dark with Portia, only he didn’t want a dozen Frenchmen there as well. In the daytime, none of them could make any move without it being noted by Pie’s avid watch. During the night-time the dangers increased tenfold, and Portia was in too much danger.
Archie shuddered at the memory of Portia swinging her make-shift club and he vowed never to allow it to happen again. In reality, although they had managed to overcome their adversaries, it had been a close run thing. Too close. It made him realise just how precious she had become to him. It was astonishing just how much of an affect she had on him in such a short period of time. They had known each other for several days, but had yet to hold a real, meaningful conversation, yet here he was, already considering her as his. Her safety was his priority and just as important as the possibility of them sharing a lifetime together. He knew from the adoring looks she kept giving him, that she wouldn’t take much convincing to consider a future together but he had no idea if they were suited to each other away from the dangers they faced. Until he could be certain that they would be happy in any commitment together, he had to keep his thoughts, and his hands, to himself.
At the moment that wasn’t a problem and, although taking her to his home, MonktonCastle, seemed like the right thing to do, it was going to bring about several more problems, including bringing temptation right to his door.
Glancing back at the assembled throng, he watched as a few of the more deeply wounded men staggered on their feet only to be dragged along by their comrades. It wouldn’t be long before they collapsed altogether and the last thing Archie wanted to do was have to loosen the bonds on any of them, but they needed a few minutes rest. Still, if they stopped it would probably prove impossible to get them going again.
On the far horizon he could see the outskirts of Tolbridge but it was at least a couple of hours away. He glanced over at Portia considering the weary droop of her shoulders she tried to hide and the grimace of discomfort that swept over her as her horse stumbled over a rock before quickly righting itself, jostling her in the saddle as it did so. Although she never voiced any objection, she was clearly struggling with the rigorous demands of spending long hours in the saddle, but at least she wasn’t whining and whingeing about it. Her stoic silence went some way toward convincing him even further that they were meant to be together.
Portia patted the horse gently, feeling the soft brush of the animal’s fur beneath her fingers. She was aware that horses could cover many miles at a time and were the staple form of transport for many, but she had never ridden one before and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She should be embarrassed to be seen wearing men’s breeches, but it was comfortable to be riding like Archie and Pie, who didn’t seem to mind in the least that she was a lady and riding in such an unflattering and unfeminine way.
Although she was very aware of them behind her, she couldn’t bring herself to look back at the prisoners they were dragging along. A small part of her hated to see them confined, even if it was for her own safety, and she wasn’t at all certain she would have untied them if she had been given a choice. She was still slightly angry that they had attacked her, forcing her into having to strike out at them, and they deserve the conch on the head they had received for their efforts.
Instead she kept a steady watch on the town of Tolbridge looming ever closer. Upon first glance, they didn’t appear to be making much headway traipsing through one field after another.
“Are you alright?” Archie was aware of the growing silence that had settled over the group over the last few miles and was growing increasingly concerned about Portia’s pale cheeks.
Portia jumped and smiled wearily at him. “I’m fine,” she replied softly, refusing to divulge the growing ache in her posterior and her aching back, much less the sharp pain in her shoulders from hefting the heavy wood. She glanced down at the heavy object resting in her lap and wondered what the locals in Tolbridge would make of the group as they passed through. At least they were going to the jail. It would stop anyone of them rounding them up and sending for the constable.
“Not long now,” Archie reassured her, glancing back at Pie whose own stoic determination to get the job done was clearly etched on his rigid features. Archie had no doubt he would need to see a doctor in Tolbridge and could only hope that the French hadn’t got that far yet. It wasn’t one of their planned stops, and was not on the route they would ordinarily have taken. He had kept a careful watch and was fairly certain that they weren’t being followed but, until they came across the enemy, nothing was for certain. These Guards seemed to be a different breed to any of the others they had come across and Archie couldn’t be sure if it was because they were being directed by a more ruthless commander, or because they were protecting a more precious part of the operation; a section of their endeavours that couldn’t easily be replaced. He hoped it was the latter, and the information the men would divulge would tell them everything the Star Elite needed to know to eradicate the French foreigners from English soil for good.
Whatever happened, he wouldn’t – couldn’t, rest, until Portia was safely ensconced at Monkton Castle, and he could close the front door of his home, sound in the knowledge that she was safely away from prying eyes. He knew the route he would take to get to the Castle without being seen, and was confident that the last stage of their journey would enable them to have the time they need to really get to know one another.
Then, and only then, if he still head strong feelings for her and she didn’t have any hidden traits that made him want to pull his own teeth out, he would ask her to become his wife. Until then, all he had to do was keep his hands to himself. It should be easy.
It wasn’t.
They arrived at the jail with their prisoners practically crawling with their need to rest. Their journey on foot had been relentless and, although Archie was fairly certain none of them would make a run for freedom, he wasn’t prepared to take the risk by allowing them to sit down for a while. Unfortunately, there was no way of getting them to the jail without passing at least some of the townsfolk, who all stopped to stare at the strange spectacle. A few words from Pie turned their wary curiosity to scorn and it ensured them a clear route straight to the town to jail’s door. A few of the locals had already knocked on the gates and sent word to the head jailer who had rushed outside to meet the surprise guests.
“Wait here and don’t dismount,” Archie warned Portia as he stepped forward to greet the tall, distinguished looking gentleman who came forward. A fe
w quiet words was all it took to convince the man to accommodate the French traitors, and within minutes the long procession of weary men stumbled past on their way to the cells.
“I’m afraid we are a bit full at the minute, but we can accommodate them if we shuffle some of the prisoners around,” the tall man declared, staring at the Frenchmen in disgust.
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t remove the ropes until we got the lady out of the yard,” Archie cautioned, glancing toward Portia.
“Is she with you?”
Archie nodded. “She is the person these men were sent to get. It is important that we take her on to a place of safety. Meantime, I need one of your most trusted men to take a message to my superior at the War Office, and my boss in Bodmin.”
All brisk efficiency, the Head Jailer, Mr Butler, snapped to attention, clearly eager to please someone of such authority. Within seconds, Archie, Pie and Portia were escorted into Mr Butler’s office with an offer to make free of the facilities there. The ink on the message wasn’t even dry before it was secreted under the cloak of a turnkey who quickly scurried off to carry out his important task.
“You are most welcome to stay here the night. My house is within the grounds but at the far side of the yard. It is perfectly safe for the young lady as long as she stays inside while the prisoners are exercising.” Mr Butler glanced at Portia cautiously. Although the keen curiosity was apparent in his gaze, he made no attempt to ask any questions and merely accepted Archie’s authority without hesitation.
“That would be most generous of you. We would be pleased to take you up on your offer until we receive word back from my associates. If you could arrange for a doctor to see to my friend’s legs?” Archie gestured to Pie, who looked abashed at suddenly being the centre of attention.
“Of course. I’ll show you to the house and arrange for some food for you.”
Mr Butler proved to be most efficient. Within minutes they were being escorted across the prisoners’ yard toward the group of buildings in the far corner, one of which was the jailer’s house. There they were shown to rooms that were sparsely furnished but seemed luxurious compared to the hotel in Headingly before Mr Butler took his leave and disappeared back into the main building to help move the prisoners about.
Portia stared at the bed longingly. Every bone ached from being on the horse for so long. The need to rest for a while made her legs tremble until she wasn’t sure how long she could remain upright. Shouts coming from outside drew her to the window, and she watched as the French captives were dragged unceremoniously into a single storey building that ran alongside the main building.
She jumped when she felt someone standing behind her and turned to find Archie staring over her shoulder, out into the yard.
“Where are they going?” She asked turning to look out of the window again. Although she pretended to be watching the goings on outside, every sense was tuned to Archie, who had moved to stand directly behind her. It felt natural to lean back against his chest, and relax against him when his arms slid around her waist. Together they stood in silent contemplation and simply enjoyed the quiet of the moment. It wasn’t lost on Portia that this was the first time that they had really been alone together.
“They are going to have their chains fitted. They will have manacles on their wrists and ankles that will make it impossible for them to run off. The main gates could be left wide open, but they wouldn’t be able to take two steps before the chinking noise alerted half the jail, even if they could carry the heavy weight of the chains. They will also be stripped of their clothes and put into prison uniforms.”
“I thought Mr Butler said the jail was full.”
“There is always room for a few more,” Archie murmured quietly, glancing down at her. “They will share cells until my colleagues turn up to collect them.”
“Where will they go then?”
Archie felt her curious gaze on his face and turned to look at her again, seeing no reason to lie. “My colleagues will interrogate each man in turn and find out who sent them, where they are based, that kind of thing. I think we have a traitor in the Star Elite, and we need to uncover who it is, so right now we have to be very careful what we do and who we tell of our whereabouts. Until we get the information we need, my boss will probably want to question them here. When he has finished, the men will be sent to trial for treason, in Bodmin. Where they go after that is anyone’s guess.”
Portia shuddered. She didn’t ask, and really didn’t want to know, but the last she heard the punishment for treason was death by hanging. She wanted to feel sorry for them. Some of them probably had family back in their native country who were waiting for them, but they were still ruthless killers and had to be treated the same as any Englishman.
“Sorry,” she murmured when her stomach rumbled loud enough to make Archie chuckle.
“I won’t ask if you are hungry. Mr Butler has excellent staff and they have already got food ready for us. I think we had better go and see what we can do to satisfy you.” Archie mentally winced at his unfortunate choice of wording and slowly eased his hold on her. It was more of a wrench to break contact with her than he cared to admit, especially as there was a bed only a few feet away. Luckily though, Portia didn’t appear to pick up on his faux pas and merely smiled at him a little shyly.
He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman, but he wanted her to want him under normal circumstances and not because she was scared, or looked at him as her saviour in dangerous circumstances.
“Come on, let’s eat.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Two days later, Portia was bored. She sighed deeply and wandered aimlessly around Mr Butler’s house. Although Mr Butler called it his home, the man was rarely there. At first light he disappeared into the main building and remained there for the rest of the day. Portia began to wonder if he was avoiding coming into contact with her, and suspected that Pie and Archie were.
Flopping down in a chair, she sighed and stared absently at the row of worn books lying on the table beside her.
She listened to the clock ticking on the mantle and wondered where Cecily was. Although Archie had said he would try and find out what had happened to her, the worry for her sister’s safety was making her sick. What if the French Guards had caught up with them too, only Cecily hadn’t escaped the way Portia had? It didn’t bear thinking about. Impatience to know the truth clawed at her, refusing to allow her to settle.
The house was quiet; too quiet. She wandered around, picking up this object, re-arranging another as she wandered around listlessly. She wasn’t sure how much of this sitting around she could stand before she went quietly mad.
Wandering back upstairs, she flicked at the already straight covers on the bed, and wandered aimlessly around the room. It wouldn’t be so bad if she had someone to talk to, but Pie and Archie had gone over to see Mr Butler hours ago. Portia wondered what they had to talk about so much, because they were over in the main prison building all day yesterday too.
Although Archie had assured her that everything was alright, and that it wouldn’t be too long before they were able to move on, Portia hated being confined in the small house, especially when it wasn’t hers and she had nothing to do. There was no basket of mending. No sewing projects she could even start, let alone finish, and there were no art materials with which to draw. Apart from reading, there was nothing in the house of note except for the ticking of the clock, and if she heard that much long, she was going to go stark raving mad.
Everyone had instructed her to remain in the house at all times, but the walls seemed to be closing in on her.
Portia moved to the window and glanced into the road that ran along the outside of the high prison walls. The scene was reminiscent of the hustle and bustle at Headingly. Market traders were selling their wares, shouting loudly to attract the interested gazes of the passing crowds. Children were running this way and that, while the women carried baskets and herded hens and animals thr
ough the milling throng.
Portia glanced down at her own dress with a sigh. It had once been the most favourite thing in her wardrobe, but was now frayed at the hem and beyond redemption. Even the most frivolous fripperies wouldn’t cover the numerous tears and pulls in the fabric, or the staining that refused to be washed out. She sighed despondently and wished she had the freedom to be able to go where she wanted.
The speed in which her life had gone from frustrating, to terrifying before reverting to dull and boring was difficult to keep up with. She should be glad for the brief respite from spending days on a horse evading French Guards, but it seemed almost too quiet. She wondered how Archie managed to cope with the swift changes in circumstances, but then reminded herself that things were different for him. He was over in the main building talking to people. She was stuck in a stranger man’s house, having seen nobody for hours.
The fluttering of fabric on a stall further down the road captured her eye, and she gasped. Even from a distance she could see the rows upon rows of ribbons, and cuts of fabric the stallholder was showing to one of the browsing ladies. She glanced out into the empty yard of the prison, and down at her dress. Although she had no money to purchase anything, there was no harm in looking. After all, the stall holder was only a few feet away from where she was standing. What harm could she come to? She would be only a few steps away from the prison gates, and could get there relatively easily. If she advised the guard that she would be back in a couple of minutes, he surely wouldn’t have any problem in waiting while she took a quick look – could he?
She frowned out of the window again, Archie’s words of warning ringing in her head. He had told her to remain where she was, and not leave the house. She had spent many hours staring out of the window yesterday and had seen nothing untoward all day. Not even the French would be stupid enough to venture this close to a prison, surely to goodness? Portia turned and stared blankly into the room for several long minutes, undecided if she should be so bold as to go out alone.
His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) Page 16
