His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series)

by King, Rebecca

  “It’s only a few miles now,” Archie declared gently, noting her wince. “When we round the next bend, you should see the outline of the battlements against the hill over there.” He pointed to the left of them only for Portia to groan.

  Archie’s idea of not long now, and hers, seemed to be completely different. As far as she could tell in the darkness, it would be some time before they arrived at his home. She briefly contemplated getting off and walking, but that would only slow the journey. She shivered as a particularly strong gust of wind swirled around them and she was grateful for the thick woollen cloak Archie had given her.

  It should have been soothing to spend this time alone with him. There was nobody for miles around. The only sounds were the clip clopping of the horses’ hooves on the well worn track, and the rustling of the trees around them. Instead, there was something slightly foreboding about the long narrow stretch of track that seemed to run through the middle of nowhere.

  Over the course of the day their conversation had covered various anecdotes from Archie’s childhood mischief, and stories about ghostly sightings at Monkton and the history of the Monkton family. Although Archie was a Montford, he was the only surviving male distantly related to the Monkton side of the family and had inherited the castle, its lands and considerable wealth. He had been raised in more humble circumstances and found the huge halls of the castle too large, but had felt a sense of responsibility toward the place that he couldn’t ignore. Although his work with the Star Elite took him away for long periods of time, he had a very reliable man of business, as well as a full complement of serving staff to oversee things for him.

  Archie was pleased that she had seemed more at ease with him today and was glad that they had been able to spend the day getting to know each other a little more. Although she had not shared much in the way of amusing anecdotes of her own childhood, she had engaged in conversation and asked many questions. It had gone a long way toward convincing Archie that she was indeed the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

  He wanted to ask her about her own childhood, but as the day had worn on, hadn’t wanted to bring the shadows back to her beautiful green eyes. She had thrown easy-going smiles at him for the first time, and each time she did so, took his breath with an effortless innocence that made him want to snatch a quick kiss. He doubted that her childhood had had much in the way of laughter, and made a decision to ask her about it when they were married and she was more settled in her new home. Until then, he was just grateful for the easy camaraderie that had settled around them, and nudged his horse after her.

  Portia gasped as she caught sight of the huge castle that seemed to cling to the side of the hill through sheer determination alone. At first glance, the place looked dark and foreboding yet strangely inviting. Candles flickered in only a few rooms but beckoned with weary with the promise of welcoming warmth and hospitality that was impossible to ignore.

  “Do they know we are arriving?” Portia asked, following Archie down the long driveway toward the huge, ornately carved front door.

  “Nope, but this is my home. Who is likely to object?” Archie jumped down and moved around to help Portia down.

  Portia’s feet had no sooner touched the ground that one of the doors opened and a rather officious looking butler appeared in the doorway.

  “My lord?” Dunscombe gasped, his face alight with a broad smile.

  “How are you doing? Kept the roof on, I see?” Archie smiled, turning toward Portia.

  “It is so good to welcome you back,” Dunscombe gushed, smiling broadly at Archie, then Portia. “You have brought us a beautiful guest too.”

  “This is Dunscombe,” Archie smiled, drawing Portia to stand beside him. “Dunscombe, this lady has been through quite an ordeal and needs the best care we can provide.”

  “Yes, sir,” the butler replied, beckoning to the footmen standing just outside the door and issuing them with a list of instructions. “Follow me.”

  Portia didn’t manage to keep the amazement off her face as she followed the man into the castle’s entrance hall, and threw a curious look at Archie as she walked into the large stone hallway. The place had looked huge from the outside; inside it was simply immense. The long row of armour stood against the far wall, alongside the large sweeping staircase that seemed to go on for miles. She stared hesitantly around at the vast array of armoury and hunting trophies and adorned the walls and shivered.

  “You will soon get used to it,” Archie whispered, sensing her disquiet. Easing an arm around her, he drew her against him and felt her shiver.

  “My lord, your other guests are in the study.”

  Archie froze, and lifted brows at his butler who gave him a knowing look.

  Portia didn’t miss the look, but was still struggling with the news that Archie, the affable man who had fought for her with such valour was a lord. Lord Monkton.

  “Miss, if you will follow me?”

  Portia’s head was in a whirl and she stared blankly at the young maid who was waiting to escort her upstairs.

  “If you need anything, just ring for a maid. I’ll see you in a while,” Archie offered, watching her back as she ascended the stairs. He knew she needed a little time to absorb the enormity of his home, as well as the news of his title. He could still remember his own initial shock upon learning of his huge change of circumstances and histrionics behind his new home. It had taken him months to get used to having servants in the house and he still wasn’t used to hearing anyone call him ‘my lord’. As soon as she had disappeared from view, he headed toward the study.

  He knew from Dunscombe’s face who awaited him, and he was eager to hear the latest news.

  Portia had no sooner arrived at her room than Dunscombe appeared with a quiet knock on the door.

  “My lady, you are required in the study.” Portia stared at him, and looked askance at him.

  “Can you take me there? I have no idea where I am.”

  Dunscombe smiled, and held the door open for her.

  She was a bundle of nerves by the time she had made her way to the study. The corridors seemed to go on for miles and were lined with door after door. They had turned this way, then the other, and then back again until eventually they arrived at the top of the huge flight of stairs. Although the hallway was vaguely familiar, she still relied on Dunscombe to escort her to the ornately carved study door. Once there, he opened it for her and stood back to allow her through.

  Portia walked slowly into the room. Her gaze flew to Archie who stood before the fireplace, his face stern as he studied her.

  “Sorry to call you down before you have rested, but I need you to meet my associates.”

  Portia’s progress into the room halted at the tall, darkly handsome man who moved toward her. “I’m Simon Ambrose, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He turned and motioned to the sandy haired, debonair man standing just behind him. “This is Sir Hugo Dunnicliffe.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Portia,” the sandy haired man murmured, waving a hand toward a high backed chair sitting before the fire. “If you would take a seat, we have arranged for a tray of refreshments for you and Archie so you can eat while we talk.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” She turned toward Archie, her thoughts immediately turning to Cecily. “Have you heard from Cecily? Is she alright?”

  Archie sighed. “The last we heard from Jamie, they are in a place of safety and intend to stay there until it is safe for them to leave.”

  “Cecily is alright?”

  “She’s fine, Portia,” Archie replied, moving toward her and capturing her hands. She knew something was seriously wrong when he drew her toward the chair beside the fire and handed her a cup of tea.

  “What is it?” She saw the almost stark look on his face and took the opportunity as he drew close to study him. Their eyes met and held.

  “It’s your father.” Archie carefully handed her a cup of tea, hoping she had the chance to drink it be
fore she dropped it. He was aware of Simon and Hugo coming to sit in the chairs nearby, but ignored them. “I am afraid there is some news about him that you will find a bit of a shock.”

  “What?” Portia gasped. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting him to say, but this wasn’t it. “What has he done?” Her eyes flew from one man to another, seeking clarification.

  “He has been arrested.”

  Portia gasped, staring in shock at Hugo. “What for?”

  “Treason.” Archie winced. The word seemed so harsh, so abrupt that he hated to even say it, but there was no way of softening the blow.

  “My father? Treason?” She shook her head, giving herself a lecture to stop repeating everything parrot fashion.

  “He has been involved with the spy smugglers,” Simon murmured, eyeing her warily.

  “He is involved with the spy smugglers; the Guards who tried to kill us?” Her stomach dropped to her toes as Archie nodded slowly. Anger warred with confusion for several long moments as she tried to absorb the enormity of what Archie had told her.

  The cold, harsh truth was clearly outlined in the gravity clearly visible on all of their faces. It was true. Her father had been arrested for being involved in spy smuggling.

  Strangely though, her first thought was for the implications this latest news would have on her future with Archie, before being replaced with bitter anger toward her sire. She was so lost in thought that she jumped at the sound of Sir Hugo’s voice.

  “We need to ask you some questions about your life in Tissington, and your father’s contacts.”

  “Are you alright? Do you want to do this now?” Archie stared hard at her wondering how she was really coping with such devastating news, but he could detect nothing other than shock and consternation.

  “I’m fine. No, I’m not. I’m angry.” Portia placed her teacup on the table beside her and began to pace up and down in front of the fire. “You mean, he has been involved in all of this? Everything that has happened over the last few days is because of my father?” Her fury grew until she was positively trembling.

  Archie shook his head, glancing at her warily. “We don’t know. He may have been behind some of it, but that wasn’t why he was arrested.”

  “Treason, you say?”

  “He was the financier.”

  “What?” She spun on her heel and stared at Archie, unable to believe what he had actually said. “Father? Giving money to the French?” Archie nodded slowly and glanced at his colleagues.

  When he had been told it had been a surprise, and had expected tears and worry from Portia. The last thing he expected was fierce anger.

  “We have seen him talking to one of the French leaders, on a number of occasions,” Simon reported, flicking Archie with a glance.

  “Manton,” Archie winced at Simon’s nod.

  “Manton?” Portia glanced at Archie and felt the now familiar guilt prod at her.

  “You know of him?” Hugo’s voice was sharp and he studied her intently.

  “Portia killed him,” Archie replied starkly. He briefly explained what had happened that fateful afternoon when their lives had changed so dramatically, culminating in their arrival at Monkton.

  Portia glanced at Hugo and Simon reluctantly but could detect nothing but a wary respect in their eyes as they studied her.

  “Good Lord,” Simon murmured, shaking his head. “You have been busy.”

  “You did what you had to do, and it inevitably saved your life,” Hugo reasoned, biting back on his impatience to get to the information he really wanted. “Portia, do you remember anything about your father’s friends and business contacts?”

  Portia shook her head. “The study in the house was his domain. We weren’t allowed to cross the threshold. Whenever people - his friends called by, they were immediately shown into the study and stayed there for the duration of the visit. When we had to take refreshments we were told to leave them on the table outside the door.”

  “Did you answer the door to any of them?”

  Portia shook her head. “My father seemed to know they were arriving, and pre-empted us even getting to the hallway. He always ordered us to go away and showed them into his study himself.”

  “Did you catch sight of any of them?”

  Portia described the three people she recognised, two of whom were the men their father had instructed his daughters to marry. She listed several of her father’s acquaintances and described them all to the best of her ability.

  Simon carefully wrote the names down on a small piece of parchment. “Where do you think you father would keep most of his papers?”

  “Most definitely in his study.” She went on to describe two of his most favourite hiding places and felt a small flurry of satisfaction at revealing her sire’s secrets. Although she and Cecily had been banned from entering the study, neither girl had sought fit to follow through with his instructions when he wasn’t in the house and had ventured into the study to nose around on more than one occasion. They had been very careful not to disturb anything, and a lot of the papers on his desk had made any sense to either of them, but they had made a point of defying his orders the only way they knew how.

  “What do you know about his closest friends?” Archie asked, moving to sit beside her. Although she was still pale, she had borne the news of her father’s treacherous activities well and Archie was immensely proud of her for keeping a tight hold on her emotions to be able to help them.

  “A lot of them are merchants, and sell a variety of goods from other towns in the county. Were they all in on it?”

  “Yes, I am afraid so. I don’t think that they knew about your father financing the spy smugglers who entered the country though, but they were involved in moving the smuggled goods.”

  “But why? What did father have to gain by spending money on the French? He had never shown any emotion toward the war with France and, although he was too old to fight himself, had issued nothing but praise for the men in the village who had gone off to war. How could he finance spies who were threatening the very lives of the people he was living amongst?”

  “We don’t know yet, but we intend to find out.”

  She gasped when Simon reeled off a list of names and towns with surprising accuracy. There were a few names she wasn’t familiar with, but that wasn’t surprising. Portia confirmed the names she knew.

  “Is there anything else you can remember of late that was slightly different or unusual to normal events in the house? Did you father seem to have more money than normal, or seem worried about something?”

  “No, not really. I mean, he barely furnished Cecily and myself with enough funds to clothe ourselves, let alone afford any ribbons and the like. He always insisted on the best cuts of beef and chops for himself, and made us account for every penny we spent.”

  “He was a miser with his children,” Archie sighed with disgust, wondering how any man could do that to his daughters. He could understand now why Portia was reluctant to discuss her childhood.

  Portia could see no reason to contradict him, and made no attempt to defend her father’s actions. In reality she was bitterly angry with the way he had treated them, all the while giving money, hand over fist, to the enemy. The knowledge that she was related to the man galled her.

  “I don’t understand how he has been giving money to the French. What do the merchants have to do with it?” She frowned at Archie who waited for Hugo’s nod.

  “Your father has been paying the spy smugglers huge amounts of money. In return, when the spies are brought ashore, a large amount of smuggled cargo is also delivered to your father. We do know he dispersed the goods amongst the network of associates he had and made a considerable profit from the sales. Those people also benefitted from the scheme because they didn’t have to pay taxes or anything on the goods they sold,” Archie explained, pointing toward the paper on the desk.

  “We do know that he paid the spy smugglers extra whenever the spies were brought
ashore and this financed them being moved around the country. We think that your father’s associates also acted as a network of people who transported the spies around.” Simon replied, shaking his head at the amount of work the Star Elite had yet to do.

  “Do you think he was blackmailed?” Portia frowned, immediately discounting the notion. Their father wasn’t a man to cross. She couldn’t see anyone, not even the horrid Manton, blackmailing him.

  “He could have been, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he has known about the spies he has been financing and helping them disappear around the country.”

  “Of course not,” Portia declared flatly. “I cannot see anyone blackmailing him, if I am honest. I just never realised just how conniving he really was.” Silence settled over them for several minutes. “Where is he now?”

  Archie shifted uncomfortably. “He is on his way to Bodmin to await questioning. I know he is your father, Portia, but I am afraid that you are unable to see him.”

  “I don’t wish to see him ever again,” Portia declared flatly only to gasp and stare with horrified eyes at Archie. “Does Cecily know?”

  Archie shook his head. “She has more than enough to deal with right now and although is safe, needs to concentrate on staying that way. I thought you might prefer to tell her when you see her again.”

  “Thank you,” Portia sighed, feeling slightly sick. “So what happens now?” She hated the fear in her voice but couldn’t pretend that her life had not been turned on its head for a second time in less than a month. “Do the villagers know?” She gasped.

  “No,” Simon sighed. “As far as anyone is aware, he has gone out to look for you two. His associates also came after you but, one by one, they have been rounded up. To anyone that enquires, all of them have simply vanished, and it will remain that way.”

  “I have told you before that the work of the Star Elite has to be strictly confidential. For the sake of the men undercover, and the safety of the people who aren’t part of the Star Elite but willingly help us. It is imperative that you don’t discuss this with anyone.”