by Rebecca King
Florrie gasped and turned horrified eyes on him.
“I don’t know why he is here. We knew he lived hereabouts but didn’t think he would venture this way. I saw him in the village when we left the tavern yesterday.”
“Beaulieu?”
“Beaulieu.” Pie sighed and placed his drink on the floor between his booted feet. He needed her to understand. Talking about the cold facts of the spies’ activities stopped him from saying something stupid, like offering for her hand. Now wasn’t the right time to make declarations of eternal devotion. Right now he had to deal with Beaulieu, and then he would find Florrie and romance her the way she deserved to be courted.
“He is one of the first spies to come to English shores; who we know about at any rate. I don’t think he knows your cousin Jamie is one of us.”
“Do you think the body in the churchyard has something to do with him?”
Pie turned to stare at her. He was surprised with how logical she was and how she managed to maintain that logic when faced with life-or-death situations. Most women would have changed the subject and pretended they hadn’t heard anything. Florrie was analysing the situation from every view point until she could come up with a workable solution. He shook his head in consternation. He shouldn’t really be discussing any of this with her but, for some reason he felt driven to confide in her; to make her understand why he wanted her away from Melvedere. It had nothing to do with Tabatha’s duplicity or his taking advantage of her. It was purely because he was desperate to keep her safe. Beaulieu could have been the murderer of the man in the churchyard and, if he had seen Florrie find the body, her life was in more danger than it had ever been in before. It was imperative that she leave Crompton, now, before a third attempt on her life was the successful one.
“I have no idea,” Pie sighed, hating to be the one to tell her that he thought Beaulieu was indeed the killer. Beaulieu had suddenly popped up out of nowhere in the village, and nobody could understand why. Why now? What did he want? One thing was perfectly evident, Beaulieu had been watching Florrie and Pie leave the tavern after their meeting with Dexter. Had he been waiting for Florrie?
“Right now we have him under surveillance, but nothing is foolproof.” He threw her a rueful look. “You should know that. There is an element of danger here that I am not prepared to allow to taint your life, not after everything you have been through.”
“But Francesca and Harriett are here, and the children,” Florrie protested. She didn’t know why he seemed to intent on packing her off and felt slightly offended at his determination to get rid of her.
“I know, but they will be protected by Hugo and Simon. They won’t allow anyone near their families. I can’t protect you the way that they can protect their wives.”
Florrie felt a pang of envy toward the women and kept her gaze carefully averted so that Pie couldn’t see the pain in her face. She almost cried aloud at the gulf that seemed to open up between them and left an awkward silence in its wake. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She couldn’t bear him to know how much his rejection of her hurt.
“I was going to go anyway. Hugo has arranged for my things to be collected from Tabatha’s house and delivered here. As soon as they arrive, I can leave for Norfolk.”
“Hugo thinks they may be here tomorrow morning.”
“I shall go as soon as they arrive,” Florrie announced in a firm voice. She busied herself closing her book and straightening her skirts as she stood. She could feel his gaze on her but refused to look at him. “I am really rather tired tonight, so shall bid you a good night.”
“Florrie.”
She paused at the doorway and reluctantly turned to face him.
“If I may, I should like to call upon you in your new home. Just to see how you are?” Pie’s eyes met and held hers for several moments.
She had no idea what she was waiting for; a declaration that he wanted more, perhaps? Although his gaze was sure and steady on her, she wasn’t fooled for a second. He clearly regretted what had happened between them and was trying to let her down gently and assure her that there wouldn’t be a second night.
Although she still felt recklessly wanton for her behaviour, she was glad that she had made the choices she had, and wasn’t prepared to attempt to excuse it. Neither was she prepared to allow Pie to make promises he clearly didn’t want to keep, or allow him to think that she expected anything from him. Having practically forced herself on him, the least she could do now was let him off the hook without a murmur.
“If you are ever passing Norfolk, you are more than welcome to drop by. I am sure my uncle Silas would love to meet you.” Her lips twisted in a parody of a smile and she quietly walked out.
In reality, she knew that it was most probably the last time she would see Pie, and her heart wept for the loss. He was a brave man. A stalwart companion who was prepared to protect those he cared about. Unfortunately for Florrie, that didn’t include her. She had no doubt the protectiveness he had shown toward her had more to do with his responsibilities to his work with the Star Elite rather than any sincere affection for her.
Suddenly, tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough.
Unfortunately, her clothing didn’t arrive. Once again, there was no sight of the men, although the night watchmen had been replaced with heavily armed footmen who were constantly on patrol both inside the house and out. Everyone seemed to be tenser than they were yesterday. The easy-going camaraderie between everyone in the house that Florrie had grown familiar with had vanished, and been replaced by a watchful wariness that was vaguely alarming. Although the ladies tried to pretend that there was nothing amiss, Florrie watched as Francesca moved to the window to stare down the driveway for several long moments. Fear and worry were etched clearly on her face once her back was to the room and she thought that nobody was able to see her.
Florrie spent most of the day wandering around the house, dreading the click of the door that would announce the arrival of Pie. While at the same time she yearned to be able to see him just one more time, she didn’t relish the awkwardness of having to face him again.
She pleaded a headache when Portia asked if she would like to join the ladies for tea that afternoon, and curled up in front of the fire in her room to think instead. She knew what life held in store for her, and wasn’t altogether certain whether she was glad to have met Pie or not. He had taught her more about herself than she had ever considered possible but, he had also opened up a sea of emotion that she couldn’t contain. The desperate need to see him again and know for certain that he was safe was fuelled by a sadness that brought tears to her eyes and an ache to her heart. She didn’t know how she was going to bear the rest of her life not knowing how he was; where he was.
Still, without throwing herself at him for a second time, there was little she could do about her situation now. He had made it perfectly clear that while he was prepared to accept anything she offered him, he wasn’t going to make the arrangement a more permanent one and for that she didn’t know whether to love him or hate him.
She jumped at the knock on the door. She didn’t say anything and watched as the door opened and Pie appeared.
“I have been looking for you,” he declared, ignoring the fact that she hadn’t invited him in. He closed the door behind him and walked toward her, studying her face closely as he approached. There were all sorts of secrets and shadows swirling around in her soulless eyes but he couldn’t make out what they were. He squatted down in front of her.
“Portia said you had a headache.”
Florrie nodded jerkily and stared into the fire. “I am fine,” she whispered. Her heart ached at having him so close and she stared into the flames to prevent the tears from falling in front of him. “I didn’t realise you were back.”
“I came because I need to ask you a few questions.”
Florrie felt a surge disappointment tempered by impatience. Didn’t the man ever think about anything but the wretched Star
Elite?
She lifted one brow almost haughtily and stared at him.
Pie wished he had been able to spend a bit more time with her on her last day at Melvedere. He had come back because he had needed to see if Billy had taken her away to safety and, although he knew it was foolish, a part of him had fiercely hoped that she hadn’t left. He had swapped his watch with Rupert to be able to see her, just one last time, and had hurried back to Crompton with the desperation that was faintly alarming.
Once she was safely in Norfolk, and the threat from Beaulieu had been removed forever, he would go to her and explain that he had needed to take his fair share of watch with the others and, as a result, that meant that he couldn’t keep as close an eye on her as he needed to. Unfortunately, because she had been the one who had discovered the body in the churchyard; the body that they now believed that Beaulieu had left there, Florrie was at considerably more at risk than anyone else in the house. Pie couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her while he wasn’t around to watch over her. She had to go to Norfolk and as quickly as possible.
He studied the haughty distance in her eyes and briefly contemplated telling her everything now, but he didn’t want her to feel panicked or worried that Beaulieu would turn up for her. He would do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen, but he was only human and, right now, there were far too many questions than answers. Beaulieu had vanished again, and that was one of the reasons why Pie had come back.
“When you found the body in the churchyard, can you remember seeing anything unusual around the body?”
Florrie frowned at the grate holding the logs at bay and thought back to that horrible morning. It all seemed like so very long ago now that she struggled to remember anything except the horror and the blood. She shook her head slowly and threw him a look of regret.
“Sorry, I don’t recall anything that I haven’t already told you.”
“Are you certain?”
Florrie sighed. “Yes, I am certain,” she bit out and pushed to her feet with a sigh. She was struggling with a heart that had been torn to ribbons and he was thinking about murder scenes. If that didn’t tell her what he thought of their intimacies nothing would. She suddenly felt intensely annoyed, with herself as much as him.
“Florrie, I need you to think carefully.”
“What about?”
“The body? Was there anything unusual about it?”
“What, you mean besides the fact that he had been brutally stabbed?” Florrie snapped sarcastically.
Pie stared hard at her. “Think, Florrie. Did you see anyone?”
“The dead man.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“The birds in the trees and you.” Florrie sighed and stared.
“Go over that morning, what do you remember.” Pie tried to keep his voice soft but couldn’t keep the ruthless determination out of his tone or gaze. He knew that he was pushing her too hard and didn’t fully understand why he needed her to think about that day. He had no idea what he was asking for and felt as though he was clutching at straws a bit, and being a bit unfair on her.
“I walked up to him and checked to see if he was still alive by placing my hand on his chest.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I stood up.”
“You picked the weapon up.”
Florrie frowned. “I knocked it with my skirt or foot or something, I am not sure.”
Pie remained quiet for several moments and watched Florrie’s frown turn thoughtful. He felt triumphant satisfaction grow as she turned knowing eyes toward him. “What? What is it that you have remembered?”
“The weapon, the knife, had a strange handle to it. A coat of arms or some sort of emblem that was unusual. It was a wooden handle with some sort of detailed silver scroll work around it. It was very unusual, and a little disturbing.” Florrie stared at him. “Is it significant?”
“I don’t know but I am going to take a look,” Pie sighed, trying to remember the blade. He hadn’t looked at it closely and wondered if it was with the body or tucked away in the study somewhere. “What else to you remember?”
“Nothing.” Florrie thought over that morning but couldn’t come up with anything else.
“Think, Florrie, think!”
“I have,” Florrie snapped. “What more do you want from me?” she snapped, turning to glare at him.
Pie pushed to his feet. A shiver of awareness swept through him at the fire in her eyes. He had started to grow concerned at her almost watchful silence. Now that his spitting cat was back he was almost relieved to be able to lock horns with her.
“I want you to go through everything that morning.”
“I have,” Florrie protested. “I have thought about it over, and over again. I cannot tell you anything else.”
“You need to think, Florrie,” Pie persisted. He didn’t know why he was badgering her so much. He seriously doubted that she had anything else she could remember about the day when so much had changed, but he felt compelled to keep pushing.
“I do think Pie, far more than you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pie demanded, turning to face her with a frown.
“I mean, that it’s all you think about, isn’t it? The Star Elite, your work, spies, death and destruction.”
“It’s what I do, Florrie,” Pie reasoned, his voice dropping dangerously low.
“Don’t I know it,” Florrie sighed. “Tell me one thing?” She watched Pie dip his head once. “What are you going to do when you have to leave the Star Elite?”
She watched him closely. He stared at her for a moment and pulled a face. “Then I shall find another cause to fight, I don’t doubt. The work of the Star Elite will never end. There are thefts, murders, fraudulent gangs running rife. There are all sorts of things we can, and undoubtedly will, get involved with. I have been doing this for so long now that I can’t conceive of doing anything else. I am not the home and hearth kind of man,” he admitted ruefully.
Each word he uttered drove the stake just a little bit deeper into her heart. She had the answer to all of her questions right there. There was no acrimony behind his words, just simple honesty and, while she had willingly accepted his kisses, and more, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of resentment for his willingness to take what she offered while being unprepared to give anything back or even consider a different kind of future.
She felt several kinds of fool for taking the risks she had already taken, but wanted just one more night with the man who held her heart in spite of the fact that they had no future together. She was heading to Norfolk tomorrow, and would leave this man who had come to mean so much to her, behind. She would go to Norfolk and never look back but, before then, would make sure that she had warm memories to take with her.
Pie watched as her hands disappeared around her back. He wondered what she had there that required her to contort her arms in such a way and stared as her dress began to loosen. The realisation dawned that she was undoing the buttons. Regret warred with rampant need. He knew he shouldn’t touch her. They had already taken more than enough risks and it would be some months yet before he would be free to be able to visit her in her new home, but he just wanted to be able to touch her one more time.
His hand trembled as he reached out to touch the petal softness of her shoulder. One finger trailed down the pale skin to capture her hand. He lifted their clasped hands to his lips. With his eyes locked upon hers, he kissed the back of her hand and repeated the process with her other hand. Once he had both of her hands in his, he drew them both behind her back, pulling her toward him until she was flush against his hardness. He made no attempt to hide his need for her and watched awareness enter her eyes.
Her sultry gaze stared up at him for a moment before her eyes closed and she tipped her head back. The silken tendrils of her hair brushed their entwined hands. She felt the soft brush of his lips against her neck and sighed as she leaned
against him.
Just one more night, that was all she wanted; needed, and then somehow, she would find the strength to let him go.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She awoke the following morning to find herself alone in the big bed. She curled around the pillow Pie had used and breathed in the scent of him that lingered on the cool sheets. They had made love twice during the night. The last time had been fuelled with a desperation that had made them both gasp for breath and reel from the shock in the golden afterglow of sensation. Neither of them had spoken. Words were not needed. There was nothing either of them could say. There had been no lies or false promises. Both of them had been completely honest about the futures they had planned for themselves. What they had shared last night had been purely two people, two lovers, who were saying their final goodbyes.
She allowed herself a few moments for her tears to fall before she angrily swiped them away and climbed out of bed. Today, hopefully, her belongings would arrive from Tabatha’s house. It had already been agreed with Hugo that they would remain on the coach. The horses would be changed while Florrie said her goodbyes to the ladies, and then she would leave. Because everyone from the Star Elite were busy with this Beulieu person, Billy, the new coachman, was going to be fully armed while he drove her all the way to Norfolk, and they would only stop to change horses and take on more refreshments.
With the plans made, all she had to do now was sit and wait.
Her heart lurched at the clopping of hooves on the driveway later that morning. The wild surge of emotions that swept through her at the sight of the carriage moving slowly toward the house left her feeling somewhat bereft. She wished that Pie was there to reassure her that she was doing the right thing, but he had already said his goodbye. She knew before she got downstairs that that he had already left the house.
She was right.
Half an hour later, she swept out of the hallway and climbed aboard the coach. She accepted the basket of provisions Harriett handed her and put on a brave smile while the door was closed and the step raised. She waved goodbye to her new friends with a smile on her face that didn’t meet her eyes and, by the time the carriage reached the end of the driveway, she was crying her heart out.
