Cecily nodded, carefully keeping her gaze averted from the growing pool of blood in front of the first pew as she scurried toward the door. “Check the room before you enter it,” Archie cautioned, pleased when Cecily did just that. Quickly closing the door behind them, he shared a look of relief with Cecily aware that clearly, looks were deceiving. Of the two of them, Cecily looked the more delicate; the one more inclined to wilt under the burden of responsibility and fear, but it was Portia who was the one who was struggling to keep a toe-hold in reality.
Still, she had just killed a man in cold blood, Archie reasoned to himself. He was lucky she hadn’t dissolved into a fit of hysteria, and couldn’t find it within him to be harsh on her and criticise her in any way.
Portia took a hiccupping sigh and lifted her head off Archie’s shoulder. The change in room temperature did little to ease the chills she could feel right down to her bones, and she wondered if she would ever be warm again. The horror of the last few moments would remain with her for the rest of her days. Her revulsion at her own actions was so strong that she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. In a brief fit of panic, she wondered if she would see that same revulsion in her sister’s eyes.
She longed to return her head to the man’s shoulder and seek the comforting warmth of his strong arms, but simply had to know. Easing back in his arms, she wriggled around until he had no choice but to put her down. Once her feet were on the floor, she brushed out her skirts, and took a moment to wipe the tears off her cheeks with a trembling hand.
“Are you alright?” Archie asked softly, astonished yet inordinately pleased that she was at least trying to help herself.
“I don’t think so, not right now,” Portia replied somewhat stiffly. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say. Oh, yes, I’m fine thank you? Slowly, reluctantly, she glanced at Cecily.
“You did what you had to do,” Cecily declared flatly, anger building at the sight of the raw pain on her sister’s face. If it wasn’t for their father, they wouldn’t be in the wretched church at all, let alone in the middle of this farce. Right now, if she was near her sire, he would be on the receiving end of her fury for once. Her blood boiled; her rage built, and she squared her shoulders, moving toward her sister with stark determination. Grabbing Portia by the shoulders she drew her upright until their eyes met.
“You listen to me Portia Tinsdale. We have to get out of this mess. You saved our lives back there. If it wasn’t for you, we would have been killed at the hands of Frenchmen, in a church both of us dislike, in a village neither of us want to live in.” Cecily’s voice was cold and hard. “This is our chance to change things. I don’t know about you, but I am sick of having my life dictated to. I am not going to be given to old cronies just to please my father. This is about us. You did what you had to do for a chance of life. Now we both have to do what we must to get out of here, and take that new life for ourselves. Are you with me?”
Portia stared at her sister, wondering what had happened to her. Despite the lingering terror, she couldn’t withhold the small smile that stole over her lips at the militant glare on her young sister’s face. It was so unlike the Cecily she had come to know and love that she wasn’t sure what to make of it. But she wasn’t about to question it. If this was Cecily’s way of coping with adversity, then Portia owed it to her – to them – to be as strong as she possibly could be.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded once, and squared her shoulders. “You are right of course, please forgive me,” Portia sighed, swiping a hand down her face to clear away the last traces of tears. She glanced at Archie almost officiously. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Archie was stunned. In all of his years in the army, he had seen men lose their grip on reality on more than one occasion, especially when the cold brutality of war took hold. He had never, ever, seen someone throw the fear to one side, grab hold of their fortitude in such a firm grip, and change their demeanour so swiftly. He wasn’t sure whether to be shocked, proud or horrified. The last thing he wanted was two defiant, gun-toting females on his hands, and wondered briefly if he wouldn’t have preferred to carry the soft, delicate female he had been holding moments earlier.
“If you are feeling up to it, I think we need to get out of here, and head away from the village.” Archie replied cautiously, struggling to gather his own thoughts together after what he had just witnessed.
“Right,” Cecily declared to nobody in particular as she headed toward the door. “Off we go then.”
Within minutes Archie was following the ladies as they clambered over the low stone wall that ran around the perimeter of the churchyard, mentally shaking his head in disbelief. If he hadn’t witnessed the last few minutes firsthand, he would never have believed they had happened. As it was, he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of them – the events as they had happened, or the two women who were now marching resolutely toward the neighbouring village; the furthest away from Tissington. Despite the damage to their skirts, they were stomping across the roughly ploughed field with their shoulders swept back and their heads upright. They were like a small army going into battle. Nothing and nobody was going to get in their way. Archie was humbled and humoured in equal measure.
Carefully hiding his grin, Archie kept a keen eye on the area around them, feeling more than a little proud of them both, and wondered how anyone could even consider for one moment forcing them into marriage to men twice their age. There should be a law against it. The fire these ladies held within them was something that should be matched by their lovers and husbands, not quenched by overbearing and overweight geriatrics.
While he was prepared, for the time being at least, to follow meekly in their wake, the battle hardened soldier didn’t relinquish his careful control of the situation and kept one careful eye on the surrounding landscape for any sign of threat. Once or twice, when they stumbled, he instinctively moved forward to give them a helping hand, only to hesitate and draw back at the last moment. Instead he was resigned to watching carefully as they righted themselves, drew their shawls tighter and marched onward. As the miles passed, he wasn’t ignorant of the slight wilting of their ramrod straight figures, or the heavy breathing of both women as they tried to maintain their fast pace, but resolutely kept quiet, giving them the time they needed to work off their fear and worry.
Several hours later, Portia spied the small town of Headingly with a weary sigh of relief. She had never wanted to get away from anywhere in her entire life, and would be very grateful if she never went near Tissington, or its church, ever again. But she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the fact that neither sister had a penny to their name. Both of them were wearing dresses that were now caked in mud and heaven only knew what else. The plans they had begun to make earlier that afternoon had now fluttered away in the slight breeze that had begun to gather pace with the approaching storm clouds. They had the odds stacked against them, but Portia was still reluctant to ask anything of the stranger walking quietly behind her, even though their situation called for help from someone.
“Wait!” Archie drew both Portia and Cecily to a stop. Dodging through the gap between the sisters, Archie drew them closer to the hedge, aware of the clip clopping of hooves coming from the track that ran alongside the field they stood in. Huddled as close to the hedgerow as possible, Archie prised the foliage apart just enough to peer through. He watched the old man meander slowly past on his old trap before turning toward the sisters.
“I don’t know how much longer I can go on,” Cecily gasped, fanning her flushed cheeks with the edge of her shawl.
All of them were breathing heavily but, despite the satisfying distance they had managed to create, it still wasn’t enough and Archie struggled to keep the bite of impatience from his voice.
“We have to get away from the area, Cecily,” Archie replied, eyeing Portia’s own flushed countenance with a mixture of awe and consternation. She should be red-faced, sweaty and unappealing, not made increasingly beautif
ul by the slightly peachy bloom to her cheeks and the militant gleam in her eye. “I apologise for the fast pace, but the quicker we can get to my rooms in Headingly, the better.”
“We cannot all go there,” Portia declared, aghast at the thought of being alone in a bedroom with any strange man, let alone this starkly handsome one who seemed to have appointed himself their protector.
“Do you know the inn keeper?”
“Yes,” Cecily replied. “We have lived around here all of our lives. We know the majority of the people in the area, if not by name, then by face. They will recall having seen us and will tell our father when he comes looking.”
“Even if you ignore the fact that you are alone in the presence of two unmarried females,” Portia replied darkly, feeling a surge of bitterness toward the gossips who would be agog over the latest scandal.
“I think it would be best if we moved on tonight,” Archie replied, eying the women warily. The last thing he wanted to do was be out on the roads, in the middle of the night, unchaperoned, with two single and very eligible females. Even if one ignored the murderous spy smugglers in the area, he had his own bachelorhood to take into consideration. He had no intention of being forced to offer for any woman’s hand right now, and that included the delightful Portia, and her sister.
He had a fair suspicion that Jamie was the Lord Calverton who had offered for Cecily’s hand. He also knew that Jamie had been sincere in his offer for Cecily’s hand, and then Archie’s life wouldn’t be worth living if it ever became known that Cecily hadn’t received the best of care Archie could offer.
Although he wanted both ladies off his hands as quickly as possible, Archie needed to keep them together for now. They could act as chaperone and companion for one another, at least until he sent for assistance, and sequestered the ladies somewhere safe while he returned to Tissington to complete his mission.
Mentally running through the layout of the village, he began to plan what they were going to do next.
“But you can’t leave us here,” Portia protested, watching Archie move toward the door of the huge barn in consternation. She turned her head and peered behind them, but in the darkness could see nothing to indicate if there was anything, or anyone else in the huge building with them.
“I won’t be gone long,” Archie replied gently, biting back a sigh of impatience. He had to purloin a cart and horse to take them to Montgomery, the larger market town several miles away and couldn’t exactly do it with the ladies in tow. While he was fairly certain they had managed to get to the barn without being seen, he couldn’t risk being noticed by one of the village’s nefarious gossips, even if the ladies did acquiesce to him purloining a conveyance at the expense of an impoverished farmer.
“How do we know that?” Portia gasped, moving to stand behind him. “We don’t even know who you are; let alone why we should trust you.”
“That’s right,” Cecily added, moving to stand beside her sister. “How do we know that we can trust you?”
Even through the darkness, Archie could see the militant gleam in the sisters’ eyes and knew he was facing an uphill battle. Reluctantly closing the door, he moved to stand directly before them and sketched a mock bow.
“My name is Archie, and I am here to protect you both. I am on the side of the good men, I promise you. While I am here, you will come to no harm.”
“But you are going to leave us,” Cecily protested, unwilling to believe him.
“Only for a little while. I need to get my things from the inn and see if any of the Guards made it this far. When I am sure we are not being followed, I am going to find us some transport to take us to Montgomery. From there I will arrange for someone to come and collect you. They will take you to a place of safety.”
“Collect us? Who? From where? What place of safety?”
Archie sighed and shook his head as he was bombarded with questions, relieved that in the darkness, neither sister could see him.
“I have – associates – who are working on capturing the French you unfortunately came into contact with. While for your own safety, I cannot tell you too much, I can tell you that the French Guards are security men for very dangerous spy smugglers. They pride themselves on being invisible. Unfortunately, you have now seen far too much. It is imperative that I get you away from here as quickly as possible. I need to get you to my associates. They will make sure you are protected until all of this is over.” He didn’t add that by killing Manton, the head of the Guards, and witnessing the murder of the Frenchman in the woods, Portia’s life was in as much danger as his own.
“I am not going to simply stand here and wait for you to return. What if the Guards have made it to the village, and are waiting for you? We could be stuck here like sitting ducks!” Portia’s voice rose with indignation and she jumped when Cecily’s warm palm landed soothingly on her forearm.
“I am afraid I am going to have to agree with my sister. You cannot expect us to simply stand here and do nothing.”
Archie fought the urge to growl and glanced askance at the heavens for cursing him with such stalwart companions. By rights, they should be swooning in bed, being coddled and fussed over. Instead they were willing to march into dangers hitherto unknown to either of them with the innocence of lambs being led to slaughter. He had no intention of allowing them to be harmed in any way, and would at least stand some small chance of keeping them alive if they at least did as they were told.
“I don’t care what you want,” Portia argued, sensing Archie’s hesitation. “I am not going to simply stand here and do nothing but wait.”
Archie glared at her through the darkness, knowing she couldn’t see him. His frustration mounted to the point that he had to clench his fists from the physical need to shake some sense into her.
“I am not going to stay here either,” Cecily added starkly, standing shoulder to shoulder with her sister.
Although Portia couldn’t see him, she could feel the frustration practically shimmering from Archie. It was so strong that she was certain if she reached out, she would be able to touch it. She was suddenly glad that she couldn’t see him through the darkness, although she could feel his very presence with an acuteness that made her want to squirm uncomfortably.
She was still struggling with the speed of the afternoon’s changing events, and had no idea what to make of the awareness she felt toward the man who called himself Archie.
Archie, she repeated silently, running the word around in her mind. It was strong and bold, yet held a ring of softness to it that contradicted the enigma that now stood before them.
“Alright,” Archie sighed, carefully considering the possibility of tying them up. Knowing these two, they would just break free and alert half of the village to their presence just to spite him. His mind raced with possibilities. If he couldn’t leave them there, he could make sure they were kept as far out of the way as possible.
Frowning slightly, a tendril of a plan began to form in his mind and he slowly shook his head. If they were determined to be involved, then they would be – only on his terms, in his way, under his direction. Mentally cursing himself for his own idiocy, Archie knew that if his colleagues from the Star Elite ever became aware of what he was about to do, he would never live it down. The shame would forever haunt him. Still, if it meant that the ladies lived to see sunrise, it was worth the risk.
After all, as soon as they were safe, Archie could go on his own way and never set eyes on either lady again.
CHAPTER FIVE
Briefly, he wondered if Jamie was Lord Calverton, and had indeed intended to ask for Cecily’s hand. First Hugo, then Simon; the men of the Star Elite seemed to be dropping one by one. Archie swallowed harshly and felt the urge to tug his collar uncomfortably. There was no chance he was ever going to succumb to the parson’s trap, especially to a wilful female like Portia. The woman he eventually intended to settle down with would be biddable, dutiful, more than happy to spend her days looking after hearth
and home, him and their children, and would agree with everything he decided. He had no intention of getting saddled with someone who wanted adventure, thrills and excitement; someone who was about as equally matched to hearth and home, as fire was to ice.
If only he could get his wayward body to co-operate and accept that Portia wasn’t for him, then he was fine and stood a chance of getting out of the current situation without embarrassing himself or doing something stupid, like offering for her hand. He had known her for less than a day and already she had him turning himself inside out. He didn’t like it.
“God help me,” Archie whispered, closing his eyes with a shudder as the memory of her in his arms swam teasingly before him.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
Archie jumped as Portia’s warm breath swept gently across his cheek, and he scowled down at her in the darkness, aware that she probably couldn’t see him.
“You can help,” Archie snapped. “I want you both to promise that you won’t do anything stupid. This is serious ladies. Failure to do as you are told could very well get your throats cut.” He heard rather than saw them gasp. He hated to frighten them, but he wanted them to acquiesce to what he was about to suggest and, if their horror at his words helped him put some distance between him and Portia, then his sanity would be more than pleased.
His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) Page 6