A Warriner to Seduce Her

by Virginia Heath

  He had the decency to appear embarrassed. ‘My mission was to follow your uncle’s movements, Miss Blunt, not you. Jake was assigned...’ His voice trailed off as he looked at his boots.

  ‘I am well aware Mr Warriner was tasked with seducing me, Mr Leatham. I am a fool, not an imbecile. I suppose that is the usual manner in which you operate?’ Fliss forced a brightness in her voice she didn’t feel, because she refused to allow him to see how much he had hurt her. ‘Assign a dedicated and highly skilled man to everyone. Already I have worked out that your particular skill, Mr Leatham, is to blend into the background—am I right?’ The other man nodded. The tips of his ears blushed incongruously with the rest of his harsh exterior. ‘Then it is hardly surprising that Mr Warriner would be assigned to question the ladies. How clever of the British government to utilise his talent for philandering so thoroughly.’

  ‘The man your uncle met with—what can you tell us about him?’ Lord Fennimore clicked his fingers and gestured towards his desk to hastily change the subject and save his man, and it was Jake who quickly fetched paper and a pen and pressed them into his hand. He took himself to stand behind the other two, directly in her eye line. She resolutely ignored him. ‘We will need a thorough description, Miss Blunt. All you remember.’

  ‘He wasn’t a gentleman, my lord, by the accepted definition of the word gentleman.’ Neither was Jake the Rake, henceforth to be known as Jake the Snake for ever. She shot a few daggers at him in case he was in any doubt she loathed him for his deceit but wasn’t broken by it. She’d been let down before by men. Continually let down by them. Expected nothing less. ‘He was a Londoner. His accent coarse like a working man’s. His clothes were scruffy. He was big. He loomed over my uncle.’

  ‘And his features?’ Lord Fennimore looked up from his notes.

  ‘It was dark and I wasn’t wearing my spectacles. At best his face was a smudge.’

  ‘Was he fair? Dark?’

  ‘He was wearing a hat. I never saw. It was an odd and short exchange, my lord. Once it was over the man disappeared behind the shrubbery. I haven’t seen him since.’

  ‘What of your uncle’s dealings with the Earl of Redditch? Is there a chance he is involved somehow?’

  Fliss considered it, then dismissed it out of hand. ‘If he was, then there would be no reason for my uncle to thrust me in front of the man’s nose. Tonight he made it clear that his negotiations with the Earl are at a crucial stage and that he expects to use me as a bargaining chip. I am to be nice to the man, apparently. Allow myself to be fawned and drooled over while the negotiations are concluded. Drive him mad with lust to scramble his wits.’ Just thinking about it made Fliss shudder and she unconsciously rubbed her arms where her uncle had gripped her. ‘He intended to keep me a virtual prisoner until the contracts were signed.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Suffering an Arctic chill in Lord Fennimore’s study

  Fliss rubbed her arms and the blanket fell. It was only then that Jake’s eyes were drawn to the dark finger-shaped bruises marring her upper arms. The urge to kill Rowley was primal and visceral. ‘He hurt you!’

  Her eyes flicked to his, hardened, then turned back to Lord Fennimore. ‘We argued after I discovered he had destroyed all the clothes I had brought with me from Cumbria and had taken the money I had intended to use to pay my passage back. Clearly he assumed that would make me more compliant, when instead it only spurred my desire to escape.’

  ‘How did you get away? My men have the front and back entrances under strict surveillance.’

  She eyed Seb with marginally less disgust than she had Jake. ‘The whole house and all its occupants are under surveillance, Mr Leatham. My uncle’s henchmen are disguised as footmen, I now realise. There is one posted on every door. They watched me like hawks, I believe I have been assigned one in particular who is irritatingly diligent, but like most men he underestimated the resourcefulness and tenacity of women. When I realised I was being watched, I pretended to be distraught and dashed up the stairs and slammed my bedchamber door. When he went to talk to the man guarding the front door, I crept back down and returned to my uncle’s study because I knew it would be easier to hide in the darkness of the garden than it would be anywhere on Berkeley Square. I climbed out of the window and followed the route I saw the Londoner take as he left that night. Low and behold, behind the shrubbery is a convenient ladder which he must have used to scale the ten-foot wall between my uncle’s house and the neighbour’s. I went over it and followed the path alongside it and away from the house. At the back of that garden is another pathway—a servants’ alleyway of some sort. It runs between the gardens of the houses on Berkeley Square and whatever street is behind. Eventually, I could hear the carriages rattling past, so knew that it must be one of the main roads rather than the mews, so I managed to scale the wall and jump to the pavement. Then I ran.’ Her eyes turned to Jake again fleetingly. They were as hostile as it was humanly possible for a pair of eyes to be. No less than he deserved, he supposed, but they made him feel utterly wretched none the less.

  To avoid her gaze and his own guilt, he turned towards his comrades, only to watch a telling look pass between Fennimore and Leatham. ‘Does your uncle know that you have escaped, Miss Blunt?’

  ‘As I was excused dinner to compose myself, maybe not yet, but I was told in no uncertain terms the carriage would be leaving at nine and he expected me to be on it, I’m assuming he’s in for a bit of a surprise.’

  ‘Then perhaps—’

  ‘No!’ Jake interrupted before Lord Fennimore could vocalise what he and Leatham were clearly thinking. ‘She’s not going back there!’

  ‘We cannot let this opportunity pass.’

  ‘I won’t have her put in more danger.’

  ‘It’s not your decision to make Jake. It’s hers.’ Seb’s tone was intended to calm him, instead it fired Jake’s temper further.

  ‘She’s told you all she knows and we promised her safe passage back to Cumbria.’

  ‘Think logically, man! Think about the bigger picture. She has unprecedented access.’ Lord Fennimore reached forward and took her hands in his. ‘I know this is a great deal to ask of you, Miss Blunt, but these are dire times and we desperately need your help. If your uncle assumes you will back down and comply to his edicts, I propose we allow him to think he has won...it is a matter of national security...’

  King and country could go to hell. ‘I said no, damn it! I won’t let her go back to that man and see her forced to suffer more of his brutality.’ Those bruises on her arms were injury enough and Rowley would pay for them. Jake turned to her then, purposefully ignoring the others. ‘I’ll take you back to Cumbria in the morning, Fliss. Just as I promised. You don’t have to do this. I won’t let you do this.’

  Instead of appearing grateful, her face contorted in a sneer. ‘I’d rather face a month enduring Redditch’s drooling than spend another second in your lying company, thank you very much.’ To spite him she turned her head towards Lord Fennimore. ‘What would you have me do? My uncle doesn’t confide in me. To be frank, we barely converse at all. I’m not entirely sure how much use I could be.’

  ‘You can be our eyes and ears inside the building. Monitor the comings and goings, memorise the names of your uncle’s associates, pump the Earl of Redditch for more information about the potential partnership with your uncle. You said the man was taken with you.’

  ‘He is. His eyes are on stalks whenever he’s within ten feet of me.’

  ‘Then let us use that to our advantage. Your uncle will be thrilled with your newly compliant attitude and the Earl will be beside himself to have such a lovely young woman hanging on his every word.’

  Now things were getting out of hand. ‘What you are suggesting is as deplorable as what Rowley was doing! I won’t stand by while you put her in grave danger and at the mercy of an old lecher! She’ll be all
alone in there.’

  Lord Fennimore appeared affronted at the suggestion. ‘Hardly. Leatham will be a stone’s throw away outside and Flint will be inside as much as he can be. The house and any movements within it are already under close watch. Miss Blunt will be under our full protection going forward. She’ll be perfectly safe.’

  ‘You cannot guarantee that. Nobody can. These smugglers are ruthless and she’s a blasted schoolmistress, for pity’s sake. She’s hardly equipped with the skills necessary to spy on the lot of them. She’ll slip up somewhere and then she will be entirely at their mercy.’ Thinking of Fliss in peril, her life at risk, made his insides clench painfully. He should never have listened to Seb. Never have brought her to Lord Fennimore’s house. Jake had put her in this danger when he should have listened to his heart and helped her to escape. ‘She’s better off back home where she belongs.’ As far away from her cruel uncle and his bloodthirsty associates as it was possible to be. ‘We’ll find another way to infiltrate Rowley’s web.’

  ‘Not like this we won’t.’ Seb placed a reassuring hand on Jake’s shoulder and then sighed when he furiously jerked away. ‘Think about it, Jake. We’ve been trying for months to get on the inside. Flint is occasionally there, but the best we’ve really managed is to cling on the periphery. We’ve learnt more about his business dealings through Miss Blunt in one week than we have by throwing all our resources at it for six months. Even if she just sits by her bedchamber window night after night we’ll find out more about this Londoner. He has to be the link between Rowley and the Boss. He will lead us to where they hide the cargos and eventually to the mastermind himself. Within weeks we could have all the keys to unlocking this case and bring the empire to its knees.’

  ‘She’s spent her entire life sheltered in a damned convent, Seb! She’s not up to this!’

  ‘She had the wherewithal to escape unseen from Rowley’s fortress.’

  Fennimore nodded. ‘She is also incredibly intelligent and astute.’

  ‘She’s not doing it!’

  ‘She has a mind of her own and the ability to use it!’ Fliss sprang to her feet, her hands clenched into tight fists she looked intent to use at any moment. ‘Stop talking about me as if I am not here!’

  Seb and Fennimore instantly apologised, but Jake was too furious and too concerned to back down. ‘She’s not cut out for any of this and I strongly recommend we put her on the first available coach north.’

  Later, Jake would recall that those words lit the fuse which caused the full force of her temper to explode directly in his face. ‘I strongly recommend you take your strong recommendations and place them elsewhere.’ Her finger jabbed him hard in the chest. ‘How dare you speak for me! If there are any decisions to be made and any risk to be taken, then they are mine to own and mine to take, Mr Warriner! How dare you say I’m not up to the task! If you can be a spy, then I doubt it is that hard to do. What are the main attributes of one? To lie? To sneak around? To flirt? To say one thing when I mean another? To shamelessly use my attractiveness to the opposite sex to seduce information out of them? Hardly skills which require a great deal of intelligence and, if your example is anything to go by, one doesn’t need to have a great deal of finesse either!’

  She was hurting. He’d hurt her and in doing so had mortally wounded himself in the bargain. ‘Fliss, I’m—’

  She didn’t give him a chance to say sorry. ‘I’ll do as you ask, Lord Fennimore.’

  After that the decision was taken firmly out of Jake’s hands. While he silently seethed and flailed himself for his incompetence at handling the situation, Leatham and Fennimore briefed her on everything they suspected, what to listen out for and how messages could be quickly and covertly passed between them. As the chiming clock signalled their brief time was nearly up, it was agreed that Seb would escort her back to the street they had found her on. If the coast was clear, she would re-enter the garden in the same way she’d left it. They had a story all worked out so she could explain her appearance and where she had been should they have missed her. All Jake could do was stand by and impotently watch it all unfold.

  ‘Godspeed, Miss Blunt.’ Lord Fennimore walked her back to the stables and personally helped her into the shabby carriage they kept for such occasions. ‘We are in your debt.’

  As Leatham was already in the driver’s seat, Jake went to climb in beside her, only to find his arm stayed by his superior. ‘Best to leave this to the pair of them, Warriner. Too many bodies will only serve to arouse suspicion if you’re seen.’

  ‘I won’t be seen.’ Before he could put his boot back on the step, the irritated, stubborn minx in the carriage slammed the door closed. She did it with such force even Lord Fennimore was taken aback.

  ‘Come on, man. Leave the girl be. While your concern does you credit, the bad feeling between you is not good for this mission. Leatham and Flint will look after her now. She’s in good hands.’

  They weren’t Jake’s hands. ‘I’ll work with Leatham and the Invisibles.’

  ‘Do you think that is wise? She could do with some distance to get her head around things and focus on what she needs to. I suspect the last thing she’ll want to see is you for at least the next few days and we all need her to be calm and rational. Her safety depends upon it.’ More words Jake didn’t want to hear. ‘For now, your part in this is over. I know you feel bad about the way things have turned out, but the mission has to come first. You know that. Take that well-earned leave I cancelled. Have a rest. In no time at all she’ll be out of there. You can explain it all then. Rationally. When you are both calm and the danger is past.’

  ‘If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to explain a few things now.’ And Jake would do his level best to talk her out of this madness before it was too late. ‘You owe me that.’

  His superior consulted his pocket watch, then rolled his eyes. ‘Two minutes, Warriner. But it is a mistake.’

  Jake swiftly opened the door and quickly inserted himself into the small carriage in case she had a mind to stop him, then promptly closed it behind him. Fliss was still incandescent with rage, although it was quietly white hot now rather than raging red, and regarded him from the opposite seat with cold contempt. He steeled himself for the onslaught and prepared to do some serious grovelling. ‘I wanted to apologise for lying to you.’

  Silence.

  ‘And I wanted to explain that...’ What? Not everything had been a lie when the foundations were rotten? The friendship had been real, even if it had been contrived. So had the kiss. Very real. Although he had been tasked to kiss her and had been frantically planning exactly how to go about it just a few minutes before. If only they had met under different circumstances. ‘I know this looks bad, Fliss, and I know you probably hate me right now, but...’ As he struggled to find the right words to fully convey his own disgust at using her while assuring her he had some seriously complicated feelings he didn’t fully understand himself, she slowly turned her head away to look out of the other window. That cold, dead stare out to nothingness his mother had always done so well. The utter disgust at who he really was. His stomach lurched at the comparison.

  ‘I understand. It was your job.’

  ‘Yes, but not entirely... The thing is...’ She turned back to look at him, or rather look through him, and her expression cut him to the quick. It wasn’t hurt. It wasn’t angry. It was resigned. As if she had been expecting to be grievously let down all along and had fully expected nothing less. The trust was dead. Its corpse a foul stench that hung between them in the air. ‘It wasn’t all a lie, Fliss. I promise you.’

  ‘I know that.’ His silly heart soared. ‘Among all those lies, all those convenient chance meetings and all hose tempting glances and poisonous kisses, there was one irrefutable grain of truth which I should have listened to. You are a disappointment, Jake. Perhaps the biggest I have ever met.’

  Well, that was a wel
l-aimed dart and one he couldn’t argue with. ‘You don’t have to do this, Fliss. There is still time to back out. Go home to Cumbria. Be safe. This is not your fight, it’s ours.’

  She sighed, her face for once inscrutable, then reached over his lap to open the door. This time she didn’t fumble clumsily. The lock gave quickly. ‘Your part in this is done. As are we. Take your leave, Jake. I dare say you’ve earned it.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Somewhere in Piccadilly, one week later

  Fliss forced herself to smile at the Earl of Redditch, even though the smell of the man in the confined space of her uncle’s carriage threatened to make her retch. Her uncle still persisted in playing silly games, as if his decision to secretly swap carriages with the Earl so he could go home early had really been sudden. It had all the subtlety and finesse of a blacksmith’s hammer, but for King and country she would make the best of it. ‘That is fascinating, my lord. One hundred tons of cargo in one year alone! No wonder you need to increase your fleet of barges.’

  The silly old fool preened at the compliment.

  ‘Indeed, Felicity, and I expect my own fortune to be doubled as a result.’ Since she had resigned herself to her uncle’s threat, Redditch kept dropping in little hints about his wealth in the hope it would make him more appealing. It didn’t—Fliss had maintained a healthy disinterest. She doubted her scheming uncle would be convinced by an abrupt about-turn and decided a mildly belligerent stance would ultimately be more convincing. At best, she tolerated Redditch and reluctantly allowed him one dance, although much to her uncle’s chagrin it was never the waltz, and her tongue still dripped the same acid, but with a sugary smile on her face.

  While her behaviour added a layer of authenticity to the proceedings, the charitable part of her also wanted the Earl to get exactly the same message. She couldn’t bring herself to give the poor man too much false hope, yet he still persisted in trying to impress her with his money, which served to do two things. Firstly, it made her pity the Earl. To feel that one’s worth was inextricably linked to money was a very sad state of affairs, and, despite the fact Redditch was still an ogling, repulsive and shallow man with little respect for her beyond the sight of her now shamelessly displayed bosoms, Fliss couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He was also a sad, ageing, childless man who was clearly happy to settle for a woman who only wanted him for his money. That smacked of desperation and the more she was forced to get to know him, the more she wanted to take him to one side and tell him he was going about finding a wife all wrong. Bathe more often, lift your greedy eyes and look at the woman in the face for once rather than the chest, listen to her rather than constantly bragging and then perhaps you will find the personal happiness you seem to crave.