A Warriner to Seduce Her

by Virginia Heath

  Jake was adamant she would remain here until he was satisfied the danger had passed. Danger he was convinced still might be lurking despite the express they had received two days ago from Flint and Lord Fennimore, informing them that Sister Ursuline’s had been attacked by a gang of men and, instead of them finding Fliss as they had anticipated, they walked into a deadly ambush of Excise Men. Of the twenty-six assassins sent to kill her, all but two were now quite thoroughly dead. Lord Fennimore was confident the danger was now passed and they had got their man in the skirmish. Any one of those men could have been the Londoner, but as only Fliss had ever seen him and there was nearly two hundred miles between her and those dead faces, Jake was not taking any chances. His efforts now concentrated on the two. Just in case, although how long his Majesty’s government would continue to support her protection was still a mystery. As each new day passed uneventfully, it appeared less and less likely anyone was going to come for her—which in turn meant they were wasting valuable resources which were desperately needed elsewhere. Jake suspected that when Flint and Lord Fennimore arrived back from the north to meet them, then the rest of the King’s Elite would leave with them.

  She was trying not to think about that.

  ‘Serena cheated!’

  ‘I did not. You’re just a sore loser!’

  Fliss looked up from the book she wasn’t reading at the sound of the two oldest Warriner children bickering again. The enforced proximity and near constant rainfall of the last couple of days had meant the poor dears had been cooped up in Markham Manor and were bored stiff. In desperation, Cassie and Letty had organised a lawn bowls tournament to be played on the carpet. Letty’s three boys formed one team, the eldest three of Cassie’s girls the other. At the time it had seemed like a brilliant idea; within ten minutes it had descended into more arguing.

  ‘Your cousin didn’t cheat, Jonathan. She knocked your ball away fair and square. Play nice.’ Fliss recognised the exasperated tone of her hostess and felt guilty for being the cause of it. Every Warriner’s life had been disrupted because of her, but they were all being so nice and stoic about it as they fussed over her. It didn’t sit right. ‘It’s your brother’s turn.’

  ‘We’re still losing.’ Jonathan said this to his youngest sibling with all the seriousness of an unimpressed seven-year-old and he clearly blamed him as the cause. ‘Please try harder.’

  Little James’s tongue poked out in concentration, but his childish attempt rolled well shy of the jack, causing more eye rolls from his big brother. When Cassie’s four-year-old stepped forward to take her turn, Aunt Daphne came behind her to help. ‘Now remember what I told you, young lady, a nice smooth arm motion with a bit of oomph.’

  The child eyed the jack with determination and threw it with all her might. It whizzed through the air and crashed into Jonathan’s remaining bowl, sending it careening towards the wall as hers gently rolled to kiss the jack.

  ‘I call foul!’ Poor Jonathan was outraged. ‘She was meant to roll the bowl, not throw it! Throwing is cheating. Isn’t it? Isn’t it!’ Six angry children’s voices jostled to be heard, while the two eldest cousins squared up to one another. Before outright war broke out, Fliss jumped up to intervene.

  ‘Jonathan. Serena. Why don’t we take a walk in the garden seeing as the rain has stopped?’ As the two main protagonists, their swift removal and distraction would help to calm the situation. ‘You can show me around as I have not seen barely any of it yet.’

  Both children nodded, but their mothers both frowned. ‘I’m not sure you should go outside, Fliss.’

  ‘Every inch of the estate is guarded, Letty. What harm can it do? And these poor dears could do with some time outside to expel some of their pent-up energy.’

  ‘Can I bring my ball, Auntie Fliss?’ Little Jonathan, like the rest of the Warriner children, had already adopted her as one of the family. ‘We could play catch.’

  ‘I love catch,’ Serena added with a wistful look. ‘And can we show Auntie Fliss the stables? Would you like to meet Orange Blossom and Satan?’ Pleading fingers tugged at Fliss’s skirts.

  ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take them some carrots.’ The frazzled Cassie had relented. ‘The little ones do need a nap.’

  Bella made the final decision. ‘The men are all out there with Jake. I shall instruct Chivers to let them know we are taking some air. I for one could definitely use some.’ She stood up and grinned, patting the tiny, growing bump lovingly. ‘So could this little Warriner.’

  In less than five minutes, they were all in heavy, warm winter coats and walking across the lawn. Daphne and Cressida had also jumped at the chance to leave the confines of the house along with Bella. All three happily watched the two children toss the leather ball back and forth, laughing and giggling now that the ill feeling between them was now forgotten.

  The crisp February air felt marvellous, as did the freedom. They set a brisk pace towards the stables, loitered a while to pet the horses, then took a circuitous route around the parkland, allowing Jonathan and Serena to guide them around places of interest. Typically, this meant visiting the very best part of the estate to play in: the wide-open meadow flanked by clumps of weeping willows. Bizarrely, watching those dark-haired cherubs running amok and climbing over everything reminded Fliss that life was much better when it was not shrouded in fear.

  Every few minutes they passed one of Leatham’s Invisibles, who emerged from their hiding places to offer them a reassuring smile and a wave as they continued on their way, reassuring her that this place was safe. It was a fortress filled with loyal brave knights and she was the princess they protected. It went a long way to lightening her mood until the laughing children made her forget the danger entirely and Fliss felt properly light again for the first time in weeks as she forced herself to believe the danger really might be past. Each day of peace surely proved it?

  ‘I need to sit,’ said Daphne without preamble as she placed her bottom on a log. ‘All this walking is making me thirsty.’

  ‘Now that you come to mention it, I am a bit parched.’ Cressida sat beside her and produced a hip flask from her pocket. ‘Fortunately, I filled this with some lemonade earlier.’

  Lemonade which had doubtless been doctored with something from one of their host’s crystal decanters. Fliss glanced at Bella and they shared a smile. The two old dears were incorrigible, but in a delightful way, and the way they embraced life and took everything thrown at them so completely in their stride was an inspiration. To look at them, nobody would know they had recently fled Mayfair for their lives or that the dark cloud of death still loomed on the horizon.

  ‘Who wants to play catch?’

  ‘Auntie Fliss, you can be in my team and Aunt Bella can be on Serena’s.’ Jonathan marched them to a spot of flat grass close to the trees and organised them to stand in a small square. ‘Each time the ball is dropped equals a point for the opposing team.’ When nobody dropped in several rounds, he declared the square too small and ordered everyone to take several paces back. Soon that became the game. As the ball hit the grass, the winning team crowed and everyone took another step backwards until poor Serena with her tiny arms could barely bridge the distance. Being plucky and stubborn, she used all her might to hurl it at Fliss, but misjudged it and sent it several feet to the left. The little leather ball bounced hard on the ground, then began to roll downhill towards the clump of trees behind them.

  ‘Oh, Serena.’ Jonathan shook his head and began to chase the ball, only to be swiftly halted by Bella.

  ‘No further than the trees, young man. You know you are not allowed near the river in winter.’

  Fliss hadn’t realised they were that close. She certainly couldn’t hear it, but visions of Letty’s son tripping over and floundering in the cold water suddenly made her nervous, or perhaps her constant state of nervousness made her imagination more vivid with nasty possibilities?
Either way, Fliss was the only adult present neither aged nor pregnant entrusted with keeping him out of harm—Fliss and the two burly men posted at either end of their stretch of river—so retrieving the lost ball and restoring family harmony was her responsibility.

  She spied it instantly, a little brown sphere poking out of some long grass near the waterfall of branches, and bent to retrieve it. As she stood, she saw it.

  At first it appeared to be a log protruding from the overhanging branches of the largest willow less than five yards away, but as she turned the shadows changed. That log seemed to be wearing boots. Curious, she edged closer, then stopped dead in her tracks. One boot became two; they were attached to a man lying face down. Stood proud between his shoulder blades was the hilt of a knife.

  Blind panic had her calling out a warning to the others, screaming at the top of her lungs to Bella and the children to run before she started up the steep incline herself.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t.’

  The voice behind Fliss chilled her blood a split second before an arm wrapped itself around her throat like a vice and dragged her choking back towards the trees. She fought and clawed, but the Londoner had strength, surprise and gravity on his side. The heels of her borrowed walking boots slipped on the wet grass, denying her any traction as he pulled her through the branches of the willow. The pressure on her windpipe was starving her of air, making her light-headed.

  One meaty hand wove its way into her hair and shoved her down to her knees. ‘Well, isn’t this fortuitous? Miss Blunt, I presume? How lovely to finally make your acquaintance. You’ve caused me a bit of bother.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Under the ancient weeping willow

  Denied the sight of his face as he growled close to her ear, Fliss’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. They were shielded from the world by the ancient willow’s cascade of branches. The sounds of the river were amplified in this cocoon, cold mist settling on her face suggesting it was close by. Another corpse lay on the soft mud within, his throat cut. She recognised him as one of the Invisibles and whimpered. He was dead because of her. Probably the other man, too. So many innocent people were now in extreme danger. Jake. His brothers. Their young families.

  He forced her head back cruelly, making her look into his manic eyes. ‘Were you the one spying on me?’

  ‘I wasn’t s-spying.’

  ‘Liar.’ The back of his hand slammed hard across her face. ‘You took a hackney to the Albany while I was in your uncle’s house. I know Jacob Warriner works for the Excise Men. I know they brought you here to hide and I know they set a trap for my men!’ His hand whipped across her cheek again, so hard her head snapped back and spun. He violently shook her out of the blackness. ‘Was he with you that night? Has he seen my face?’

  ‘No!’ At least he referred to Jake in the present tense. Fliss forced herself to take some comfort in that.

  ‘Who else has seen me?’

  ‘N-nobody. Just me.’ If she couldn’t save herself, perhaps she could spare the others the fate of those poor men. ‘I heard you telling my uncle you wanted my aunts murdered, too, so I dragged them with me. They know nothing. Only me. I’m the only one who has seen you.’ Pride made her look him in the eye. Pure hatred made her brave. ‘I’m your loose end.’

  ‘Then come with me, my lovely, and you can tell that to the Boss. Let’s hope he believes you, for both our sakes. He don’t like loose ends.’

  He was so strong, easily dragging her like a dead weight to the water’s edge.

  ‘You can get in the boat willingly or I’ll drown you and deliver your body to the Boss. Your choice.’ She hesitated and he smiled callously. ‘I’ve got what I’ve come for. The quicker you move, the less chance there is of me killing someone else. Those wee ones or your fancy man, perhaps...’

  Thinking fast, Fliss staggered to her feet and stepped into the small tethered rowing boat. Drowning right this minute served no purpose because Jake was coming. She knew that with the same certainty that she knew this monster before her was pure evil. At some point he would have to leave the sanctuary of this willow and sail in open water where he would be vulnerable. Every man in the King’s Elite had a pistol. Any one of them could take a decisive shot.

  Before he pushed the boat off the muddy bank, the Londoner bound her hands roughly in her lap, the coarse rope so tight it made her fingers throb. Then he used the oars to dislodge the boat, his brawny arms holding one steady in the water to act as a rudder in the current. As they emerged from the branches, that underwater current proved to be too strong, sending the bouncing rowing boat drifting back towards the open meadow rather than in the direction her captor wanted it to go. His arms frantically dragged the oars, but the two opposing forces merely twisted them on the same spot. He’d misjudged things and was panicking. Fliss could see it in the wild darting of his eyes and the hard, determined set of his jaw.

  As subtly as she could, she leaned towards the direction of the current to make his job harder and searched the horizon for help. While she was relieved to see no sign of Bella, the children or her aunts, the lack of anyone coming to her rescue was worrying. But the longer they sat here, completely exposed and floundering, the better. Jake would come and with him would come more men and guns. That certainty was like a soothing balm to her soul and gave her the calm she needed to think pragmatically.

  The hard thud of a boot on her leg brought her sharply back to the moment. ‘Sit up straight!’

  Fliss complied roughly, purposely causing the boat to rock and freezing water to slosh in, soaking her feet. The more delays she created, the more chances she afforded Jake and his men. The Londoner’s response was to kick her again, which only made the violent rocking worse, and the boat listed and twisted, forcing him to use both oars and all his strength to calm it.

  ‘They are going to kill you. You know that, don’t you?’ Her voice was sure and prim. Her Miss Blunt schoolmistress tone. Defiant. His eyes briefly narrowed.

  ‘Not before I kill you first.’

  * * *

  Jake and Leatham had crept along the cover of the willows. The rest of the men were either on their way or already in position under cover. They weren’t called the Invisibles for nothing. Somewhere, too, were his brothers, because Warriners always stuck together. Knowing that gave him some comfort, but did little to ease the clawing panic which consumed him. The sight of two good men murdered hadn’t helped.

  ‘Not before I kill you first.’

  Both of them stilled at the gravelly sound of the Londoner and Seb silently gestured beyond the branches to pinpoint exactly where the voice had come from. Then he mouthed the word Fobbing. Jake understood instantly. He would confront the scoundrel, keep him occupied while his friend crept around and took the shot.

  Taking a deep breath, Jake emerged from the curtain of the willow fronds, his pistol aimed. When he saw her, spinning in the river, bound and pale, his heart stopped and his arm wavered. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Nor was the symbolism. Why did it have to be here? The exact same place...

  He wouldn’t fail this time.

  ‘Put your hands in the air!’

  Fliss turned then and her frightened eyes locked with his in the same moment her captor placed the point of his pistol against her neck. ‘Go ahead, Mr Warriner. Shoot me. I’ll blow her pretty brains out before your bullet leaves the chamber.’

  Jake didn’t dare risk flicking a gaze left or right. Fliss’s life depended on him trusting Leatham to do the job. ‘And then you will also die. You’re surrounded. All my men are armed. If you surrender yourself we will provide you protection from the Boss.’ The man wouldn’t live to step on the shore if Jake had anything to do with it, but now, the official lines might buy them some time if the bastard thought he could save his own sorry skin. ‘Testify against him and I guarantee you won’t hang.’r />
  The chilling laughter echoed in the silence. ‘I’d rather hang then spend the rest of my short life looking over my shoulder. I’m already a dead man walking. The Boss doesn’t take well to failure.’ He jabbed the pistol harder under Fliss’s jaw. ‘But you don’t want her dead, do you, Warriner? So you’d best let us go.’ His other hand groped for the oar and with Fliss clamped against him as a human shield, attempted to row away.

  The tiny boat pitched again, and spun, then seemed to wedge itself against some underwater debris. The position was a bad one, denying Jake or Leatham a clean shot that wouldn’t hit her as well.

  Checkmate.

  Jake stood rooted to the spot, his pistol raised in readiness none the less. ‘Let. Her. Go.’ The second he had a clear line of sight that monster would die.

  ‘Urgh!’

  The shout from the willow branches as Leatham launched himself out, pistol waving like an ancient warrior, made the Londoner start. The smuggler’s gun hand shifted.

  Aimed.

  Fired.

  The bullet ripped through Jake’s friend’s body, throwing him backwards in a hideous spray of blood. Jake watched in horror as the Londoner briefly let go of Fliss to reach for another weapon. Like a dream, he saw her lurch to her feet in the boat. Watched her eyes widen and lock with his before they softened. Watched them harden to emeralds as she threw herself over the side and was instantly swept away in the current.

  His guttural cry and the explosion from his pistol sliced through the air. Jake didn’t care whether he’d hit his target. All he cared about was the woman in the water. Oblivious to everything else he charged in after her, first running, then swimming towards the tangled green skirts which floated on the surface like river weed.