CHAPTER TEN
Archie was impressed and had to fight to keep the grin off his face as a middle aged couple who were leaving their room stood back to allow her past. He heard their sympathetic murmurings at him having to look after the elderly coming from the lady, and had to struggle not to wink at Portia as she snuck a glance up at him.
A giggle locked in Portia’s throat. She had the wild urge to laugh and closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to keep the mirth at bay. In reality, there was very little to actually laugh about, but whether it was the severity of the situation, or the knowledge that they were going to be walking straight under the noses of danger she couldn’t be sure, but she was very glad that she had Archie by her side and not Jamie. Not that she had anything against any of them, but they were all a little overwhelming, especially when they were in the same room together.
They were all taller than average men, although of varying heights, but there was something about them; the air of command they seemed to carry with such ease was slightly unnerving. That, along with the ease in which they seemed to accept the dangers surrounding them, left her feeling slightly off kilter, and it left her with no doubt that she was in the company of some very dangerous men indeed. She was certain that not one of them would think twice about killing anyone two posed a threat, and she suddenly felt a little sorry for the French Guards.
Easing down into the hallway took far longer than she had expected, and she was fighting the dull ache in her back as she shuffled across the hallway, one hand on Archie’s forearm to steady herself.
“Papa, I have arranged for a coach to take us onward,” Archie announced in a normal voice. “I hope it meets your approval.”
Portia merely nodded, seemingly concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling flat on her face. Climbing the smalls steps into the carriage took more effort than it ought and, by the time she sat on the plush seat in the depths of the coach, she had a whole new respect for the elderly. Puffing slightly, she watched as Archie climbed aboard and closed the door behind them.
“Who is driving?” Portia gasped, glancing around the interior of the coach. It was far larger than the one they had used to get this far, and she wondered where it had come from at such short notice.
“Pie is taking us to the next village where we will alight and change to horseback,” Archie replied, shifting uncomfortably at what he was about to suggest. “You might be better riding astride the horse given that you have never ridden before. It will be impossible to do that in a dress. So, if you are happy to remain as you are, then you can wipe off the wrinkles now.” He grinned at the liver spots that had made her look many years older and wondered if this is how she would look after a lifetime together. He knew that those beautiful green eyes of hers would probably dim with age, but if he was getting a view of her in fifty years time, she was going to be just as captivating as an old lady as she was as a young one.
Portia merely nodded, and used the neckerchief Archie handed her to wipe off the smudges on her face.
“You’ve missed a few,” Archie muttered, pointing to various spots on her face.
Portia began to rub, trying to ignore the air of intimacy the confines of the carriage created.
“Still there.” Archie pointed to a spot on the side of her nose, watching as she rubbed ineffectually at it, missing each time. “Here, give that to me.”
Tension rose as the carriage rocked and dipped along the road. Archie cupped her delicate chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding her steady as he rubbed at the particularly stubborn spot of soot that refused to budge.
Portia was left with little choice but to study his face. It was the first time she had managed to take a good look at him up close. Should men have such thick lashes? Was it fashionable for them to be so long, framing his eyes in a way that was simply mesmerising? She was so intent on studying the small crease at the side of his mouth that she didn’t notice it draw infinitesimally closer.
“Portia,” Archie whispered with a tone of caution. This was the first time since the night in the stable yard in Headingly, that they had been truly alone together. The need to lie back and plunder her senses was so strong he physically shook with the urge to claim her as his, but he couldn’t lose sight of their situation. Pie was only taking them a few miles to the next village where they would then head out on their own. He couldn’t risk starting any intimacies that would be difficult to ignore over the course of the next three days – and two nights – when they would be entirely alone.
Portia wasn’t going to co-operate though. Her gaze swept lovingly over his chiselled jaw, along the high cheekbones, until she was lost in the warm, chocolate depths of his eyes. Those gold flecks flickered and swirled almost hypnotically. Although she had promised herself she would not throw herself at him again, there wasn’t anything wrong with studying him. After all, he had been the one who had come over to her.
“Has it gone?” She whispered, breaking the intense hold of his gaze. Her stomach fluttered warmly, as awareness began to build.
“Not quite,” Archie growled, his voice hoarse with raw need. It was folly to kiss her. They were going to stop at any minute, and would have to leave the carriage and pretend that nothing had happened. Sucking in a deep breath, he gave himself a mental shake and drew back, handing her the cloth. “That’s gone now,” he muttered, shoving back into his seat and moving over to the far corner of the conveyance.
Portia felt his rejection as crudely as a slap and she felt a wave of shame wash over her. She had done it again. Despite everything she had vowed before, she had laid her soul bare before him, and he had rejected it. She was suddenly glad for the dimness of the coach that hid the embarrassed stain on her cheeks, and she felt the surge of humiliation sweep over her.
How many times does a man have to make it clear that he isn’t interested? Portia lambasted herself. She had practically thrown herself at him for a second time. Once again, Archie had been too much of a gentleman to take her up on her offer and had let her down as gently as he could. If he was anything like a rogue, she would have been ruined by now and, at that moment, she had more than enough problems on her hands. Like how she was going to survive a day riding on a horse.
Silence hung heavily in the carriage until they both sighed with relief when it lurched to a stop a long half an hour later. To Portia, it felt like she had been in there for days and, although she couldn’t find it within her to be angry with Archie for not feeling the same way about her as she did about him, she couldn’t meet his gaze as she stepped down from the carriage. She pretended to be busy looking over at the waiting horses and ignored the hand he held out to help her down the steps.
Archie sighed, aware that she was hurt. Although her face was an impassive mask of indifference, her eyes didn’t lie. She was embarrassed and that made her uncomfortable. He wished there was some comfort he could offer her; something he could say to reassure her that he wanted her just as much as she plainly wanted him, but he had a job to do. If he took his mind off his responsibilities, they could both wind up dead. The last thing he needed was to kiss her in the carriage, and be distracted by his growing arousal as they left the village.
“All clear,” Pie reported, leading a horse over to stand before Portia. “Up you go.”
Portia didn’t get the chance to do anything other than draw a startled breath before she was hoisted into the saddle. Her feet were placed into the stirrups, adjusted and then readjusted as Pie walked comfortably around the horse, checking the various straps and things. Portia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when the huge beast shook his head and snorted and, when his head suddenly vanished and began to scratch at something on his leg, she almost became unseated and rolled over his ears.
“Alright, a few safety things you need to know,” Pie said, showing her how to hold the reins, and how to keep her back straight and heels down. The instructions with many and complex, often confusing with their do’s and
don’ts. Portia tried to remember everything, but was starting to get a bit of a headache when Archie suddenly appeared beside her.
“Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to practice as we go.” It was the first time she had really looked at him since their journey there, and he wasn’t at all reassured by the distance he could read in her eyes.
“Off you go then, and enjoy. See you back at Applemore in a few days,” Pie said, climbing aboard the carriage and trundling away.
“Is he off to Tissington?” Portia asked, glancing furtively around in search of anyone watching.
They were on the outskirts of a small, nondescript village. From the sight of the deserted barn, nobody had lived in the old farmhouse for some considerable years, so where the horses had come from she had no idea. She was fairly certain she had not been this way before. It was clear that her future, for the next few days at least, was entirely in Archie’s hands. She could only hope he knew which way he was going.
“Yes,” Archie replied, nudging his horse toward the gate and catching hold of Portia’s horse’s reins as he went. Leading them out onto the narrow country lane, he drew the horse to ride alongside his and kept a careful watch on her, correcting her seat a few times so she was as comfortable as possible.
At first, it was terrifying being so high off the ground and at the mercy of a strange animal. The undulating movement of the horse as it moseyed casually down the road slowly began to ease her fears and, with each passing mile, she began to relax. Glancing back at the small village now on the horizon, she was amazed at just how far away it was and the distance they had covered in a relatively short space of time. The smile of delight she shot him as he held open a gate for her made his jaw drop and he watched her pass in stunned disbelief.
It was the first time she had ever really truly smiled at him. In the room last night, there had been a lot of laughter, but her eyes had remained solemn and wary. The smile she had just given him was altogether different. Her eyes positively glistened with humour, and the smile that revealed a flash of white teeth was captivating.
“Portia?”
He waited until Portia drew her horse to a stop as she had been instructed and drew his own horse alongside her.
“Now that we are alone,” he murmured, placing one hand on the back of her neck, he leaned over and placed a very solid kiss on her startled lips.
It was firm. It was brief. But it left her with no misunderstanding as to his level of interest in her. She couldn’t have been more affected if he had stamped her with a hot brand. She was slightly dazed as she watched him flash her a satisfied smile before clicking the horses on.
At the top of the hill, Archie drew to a stop and studied the area around them. At first glance everything seemed normal but, as he studied the village and the lanes beyond, he froze.
“What is it?” Portia asked, astonished at the sudden change in his demeanour. All trace of humour was gone, only to be replaced by a stony glare that was, quite simply, terrifying.
Archie cursed fluidly, his mind racing.
Down in the valley, on the edge of the village, Pie stood on the roof of the carriage, thrashing this way and that at the small army of attackers. Guards. A small part of Archie wondered how they had watched them leave, and began to wonder if they had secured a source of information to keep watch from within the hotel. Despite the disguises, they had been rumbled and, for some reason, had chosen that moment to attack Pie. Whether they thought Portia was inside the carriage or not, Archie couldn’t quite tell, but he couldn’t leave one of his best friends and colleagues to face certain death by himself. If the shoe was on the other foot, Pie would race to help, but Archie bit back a curse of impatience. He couldn’t exactly wade into the brutal fight with Portia in tow, and she had proven on more than one occasion that she didn’t listen to orders and had a tendency to wander off, even with the threat of capture by the French spies. Archie couldn’t lose sight of the fact that the Guards could be circling around the hill and be lying in wait to accost them further ahead.
Shaking his head, Archie glared at Portia; a stark contrast to the playful smile he had given her mere seconds ago.
“I suppose telling you to wait here won’t do me any good, will it?” He snapped, drawing her horse around until they were heading down the hill.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Portia gasped, clutching hold of the horse’s mane with tight fingers. Archie sighed in frustration at the slow pace of the horse, and glanced back at her. With the pace they were going, Pie would be dead by the time they got there. It was imperative they pick up the speed a bit more.
“Hang on,” Archie snapped, nudging his horse into a trot.
Portia gasped and clung on for dear life as the horse began to jump and jostle beneath her. She winced as the hard saddle slapped against her bouncing bottom over and over until her teeth clanked together. She couldn’t draw a breath to think, let alone ask him a question. She had thought the climb up the hill was fast, until she saw how quickly they approached the village.
Archie’s mind raced frantically as he tried to decide what to do with Portia. He couldn’t wade into the middle of the fight with her beside him, yet there was nowhere to stash her where she was safe.
“Is that Pie?” She gasped, when she caught sight of a man standing high off the ground, thrashing at something at his feet.
“It is. He is being attacked.” Archie’s voice was grim.
“By Guards?”
“What do you think?” He really didn’t mean to be so sharp with her, but didn’t have the time to answer her questions. Biting back the growing impatience, he considered her for several long moments.
“They are around here, so it is really important that you do as you are told.”
Portia knew what he was going to say and glared at him. She liked Pie, and given what she had just witnessed, he needed help. There was simply no possibility of her sitting around on this wretched beast all alone, hiding from Guards, while waiting for Archie to come back to her. That is assuming that he did come back to her, and wasn’t injured or killed himself.
“I’m not staying,” Portia declared flatly, staring defiantly at him.
“You could die if you don’t,” Archie spat, urging their horses faster. “Do you really want to see death over and over, because we aren’t trading fists here.”
“I am not staying by myself on this thing,” she argued, her breath coming in short pants that matched the bouncing on the horse.
“Then get off it, and find somewhere else to sit.” Archie drew her horse to a stop so abruptly that she nearly fell over its head again.
Pushing herself upright, she was about to chastise him when he leaned over toward her. This time, rather than drop a quick kiss on her lips, his eyes were cold and hard as he drew so close that their noses touched.
“This is a fight to the death, and I do not need to have to keep one eye on you. It is you that they are after for God’s sakes,” Archie snarled, seeing no reason why she couldn’t grasp the dangers they were facing.
“I am not staying,” Portia snapped back. She didn’t really want to go with them but the option of staying behind by herself, either on the horse or off it, was something she simply couldn’t consider.
“Shit!” Archie spat, his patience snapping. In the far distance he heard a low cry and sent a silent prayer heavenward that it wasn’t Pie. Nudging his horse into a gallop, he took off, heading straight through the village and down the lane to where Pie was fighting for his life. Hopefully, if she wasn’t accosted by spies, by the time Portia caught up with them, the fight would all be over and she would be spared the worst of the gory details.
Once again, fate seemed to be against him because his horse had no sooner stepped into a canter, than her horse followed, increasing its pace to such an extent that Portia was left with little choice but to cling on for dear life.
By the time it slammed to a halt behind Archie’s horse, she had both arms firmly wra
pped around its neck and her face buried in its mane. She opened her eyes warily and peered around her, gasping at the sight that was before her.
Bodies lay all around the bottom of the coach. Some were bleeding profusely from various wounds while others didn’t appear to have been wounded, but were out cold on the floor.
Archie’s fingers positively tingled with the need to wade in but he was aware that Portia’s horse had followed him. Glaring back at her, he saw the stunned disbelief on her face and glared at her, hating the fact that she simply refused to keep herself out of danger. It made his job damned near impossible. She was now in the middle of the lion’s den and it was down to him to help Pie, keep himself alive and her out of the French spies’ clutches.
“Go back to the village and get help!” He snapped, drawing her horror filled gaze back to his briefly. Her gasp told him all he needed to know before he became aware of the flurry of movement behind him. Turning, he thrashed out at the attacker moments before he was struck with the wicked looking knife the man was holding. Wading forward, he was immediately engaged in the fight of his life.
Portia sat astride the horse not knowing what to do. He had said she had to go back to the village to get help, but who did she call at first? What did she tell them? She nudged her horse the way Archie had shown her but it started to walk forward rather than turn around. Tugging on the mane made no difference whatsoever. Unfortunately, her movements drew the attention of one of the men who came toward her with a feral grin on his face.
“Get over here,” Pie shouted, kicking out at one of the Guards who were trying to climb the coach. It had become apparent relatively early on that the Guards weren’t carrying guns. Pie wondered if that was because they didn’t like to alert the locals to their activities. It was inevitable that people would come to investigate at the sound of gunshots. Knives and swords seemed to be the Guards’ choice of weapon and, as far as Pie was concerned, that was fine. Right now, he was a sitting target for any sniper to pick off and he didn’t like it one bit. But there was nothing that he could do to help himself except jump off and, at the moment, he had height to his advantage.
His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) Page 14