Portia had no idea where they were going, and couldn’t remember much about their journey to the town to know whether they were heading back toward Tissington, or somewhere else. She glanced around her and sighed in frustration at the futility of her situation. Luckily her kidnapper hadn’t sought to tie her hands together and, although she wasn’t holding the reins of the horse, she was able to hold on to the saddle to keep her balance.
Her attacker threw a glance back at her and made her shiver when she got her first good look at his heavily garbed attired. When he had turned back around again, she studied his back carefully. He was dressed in a long black cloak that made him look almost sinister. The hood of the cloak was pulled up high, covering the top half of his head in shadows. The lower half of his face was covered with a dark scarf that rendered him impossible to identify. Briefly she wondered whether it was Archie, but immediately discounted the notion. He wasn’t as cold hearted as to frighten her in such a way. Since they had first met, he had been kind and considerate and had done nothing but fight for her and protect her. He wouldn’t countenance such rough treatment of her – would he?
She frowned at the man’s broad shoulders and wished she could find out for sure. It was as though he had heard her thoughts. No sooner had they turned onto the road taking them away from the town, than he drew them to a stop. Untying another cloak from the back of his saddle, he turned his horse around to stand beside her and draped her in the heavy cloth. She wanted to push him away, and the cloak off her shoulders, but she was immediately encased in warmth that kept the increasing winds off her shoulders. The cloak also went some way to covering the bare length of leg that was displayed by her gathered skirts. The voluminous folds of material seemed to swallow her, and she felt somewhat reassured when he tugged the hood up over her head, covering her from sight.
She took the opportunity of him being closer to try to get a look at his face, but was thwarted by the scarves.
“What do you want with me?” Her hesitant question was, unsurprisingly, ignored. The man moved the horses into motion once more and they began to head toward the hills.
“There will be people coming to look for me, you know,” Portia declared flatly, glaring at his back. She briefly considered sliding off the horse, but was still throbbing from the heavy thump she had taken earlier. She didn’t relish landing on the hard ground for a second time and, even if she ran for her life, she couldn’t outrun the horse he was on.
“Kidnapping is illegal.” She sighed when he continued to ignore her. “What do you want with me?” She snorted inelegantly and shook her head, despite the fact that he couldn’t see her. “If you are looking for a ransom, you won’t get it from my father. He happens to be about the meanest man in Devon.” When the man didn’t even appear to have heard her, Portia lapsed into disgruntled silence.
Once or twice over the next couple of miles she glanced back, but couldn’t detect anyone following them. She was aware that, as she turned around, the man moved. Had he been watching her? Or was he too checking that they weren’t being followed? It was impossible to tell, and, clearly the man wasn’t going to tell her anything.
As far as Portia could see, she had two choices. She could either slide off, and head for the sheltered protection of the hedges and trees and, hopefully, make her way back to the jail or, she could sit here and wait for the kidnapper to take her to her final destination.
She really had no choice. She had to make a break for freedom. At least she had the protection of the cloak to shield her from prying eyes. With the hood pulled up, she should be able to move through the streets of the town without being accosted by any ne’er do well looking for helpless females. First, though, she had to wait for her chance.
It took far too long for that chance to appear as far as Portia was concerned. As each mile passed, she began to shift uncomfortably, considering just how long it would take her to cover the distance back to the jail on foot. Still, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. She shivered as the darkly menacing figure before her turned to study her once more. He looked like the grim reaper. With no physical attributes and no sign of any facial features except for the glitter of narrow eyes, the sinister tension that emanated from him was positively terrifying.
She had come this far though, thwarted French murderers and spy smugglers, and brutal Guards by the side of a road. She wasn’t going to go meekly by the hands of a single kidnapper, no matter how dark and threatening he looked. When a flash of lightening jagged across the darkening sky, she chose her moment. The man’s horse jolted and jostled as the sky was lit by the jagged bolt of lightening. While the man was busy soothing his horse, she slid to the ground and immediately lunged for the hedgerow. Without the bindings, she was able to draw the folds of the cloak around her and take to her heels. She wasn’t aware of the man having heard her, and shoved roughly through the hedge into the field beyond. Once there, she ran for her life, back toward the town that now lay far too many miles away.
“NO!” She screamed, when two large arms grabbed her around the waist and she was dragged relentlessly down to the ground. The heavy thump as she landed on the floor winded her. What was left of the breath in her body left her in a whoosh as the heavy weight of the man landed on her back. She began to fight for her life.
Twisting around, she lashed out, her fist landing with a satisfying thump on the side of his head. She felt rather than saw him wince, and landed a couple of more hits before her wrist was captured in one large palm. She began to wriggle and squirm beneath him, her free hand pushing frantically at his chest. The low groan that escaped him when she lifted her leg gave her the courage she needed to push against him as much as she was able until, using his sheer weight and strength he gradually secured her hands above her head. Her legs were trapped beneath his; her weight held still by the heavy length of his. Her eyes spat shards of green fire as she glared at him, wishing she had thought to rip off his disguise and unmask him for the true coward he was. Instead she was left to peer into the dark shadows of his hood.
When his hold on her wrists loosened, she began to squirm with more force and managed to wrench free one of her hands, succeeding in her goal of loosening his scarf. Rather than revealing his face though, she watched in horror as his head lowered toward hers. The world went dark as her face was encased in the depths of his hood. Her heart hammered in her ears and she felt a brief flutter of hot breath against her cheek moments before his mouth landed on hers. Her initial gasp of horror was immediately replaced with confusion. The kiss was so reminiscent to the one Archie had given her in the hotel room that for a brief moment, she wasn’t sure if the man holding her captive wasn’t actually Archie himself. But that was impossible. He would never resort to such underhand and terrifying tactics. Would he? Could he?
Portia swallowed and, despite the gentle plundering of her mouth, wrenched her head to one side. Her breath sawed in and out as she fought to control the confusion mixture of emotions that swept through her. She wasn’t ignorant of the fluttering of familiar need that had begun to curl warmly in her belly, but that was impossible given her current situation. The man wasn’t Archie. Was he? She simply had to know.
“Let me up, Archie,” Portia gasped, her voice cold and hard. She was taking a gamble, but she had to know if it really was him. If it wasn’t, she had lost nothing. If it was Archie, then she simply had to know what the last few minutes had been all about and why he had terrified her so.
Archie mentally swore and stared down at her. She was far paler than he had ever seen her and briefly wondered whether he should carry on with the subterfuge – at least until he could get them to safety. His conscience had already begun to bite him back in the town when she had lost the contents of her stomach from the rough treatment she had received. But his temper wouldn’t allow him to relent just yet. She had brought this upon herself, for the risks she had taken with her own life. It irked him that despite everything, she still didn’t trust him enough t
o listen to what he was telling her and believe him. He had told her it was dangerous to venture out, so what did she do? Go out on her own.
Shaking his head, Archie cursed himself for several kinds of fool and hauled himself to his feet, dragging her along with him.
At least the horses hadn’t run for cover Archie thought, tossing Portia into the saddle before mounting his own horse. He knew she couldn’t see the glare he threw at her, but felt a little mollified at being able to give her one anyway. In reality he wanted to lambast her until her ears rang, but now wasn’t the time. There was nobody around for miles. He knew, because he could see every field around them, three fields along in either direction. Anyone watching was doing so from a long way away and would take a long time to get to them. For now at least, they were safe. Archie loosened one of the straps from his belt and tied her hands together in front of her, tight enough for her to understand that there was no use trying to get free, and high enough so she could still hold on to the saddle to stop herself falling off. Just in case she didn’t get the message, he eased back the folds of his cloak to reveal the gun on his hip. He watched her gulp as she caught sight of his intended threat and nudged his horse in front of her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shaking his head, he felt slightly cruel at continuing with the subterfuge but reasoned that the woman didn’t know how to help herself. He would have the wrath of the Star Elite on his head if he let anything happen to her, even if his own heart ever recovered from losing her.
Unfortunately, having watched her leave the prison gate, he had no doubt that his heart was involved.
He didn’t like it. There was nothing to say that he had to like it, and it was galling to know that there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. There was no way out of his current mess. It was as important as his life’s blood to keep her alive, no matter how many stupid risks she took. If he had to drag her there by her hair, he was going to take her to place of safety where he could spend a few days with her, away from the threat of spy smugglers, and offer for her hand before ruining her completely. He didn’t want to have circumstances unfold around them that would force them into matrimony. He wanted her to accept the position as his wife because it was something she wanted to happen.
He had already seen just how strong willed she was, and the lengths she would go to in order to escape the constricting boundaries life placed upon her. Indeed, if she hadn’t been pushing at the walls of her daily confinement back in Tissington, they wouldn’t be in this situation now. The lady had said at the time that she wanted adventure before she settled down. Well, now, she was getting her adventure - in spades. Archie could only hope that after this, the last thing Portia would ever seek to find is a life of adventure and excitement. He would be more than happy to settle down beside her and enjoy the mundane home life of a family man.
A small part of him wondered if he would be bored by such a lifestyle. He had spent so many years working for the Star Elite on one assignment after the next that, apart from a few days here and there, he had yet to spend any time in his ancestral home, Monkton Castle. The upkeep of his home was left to a veritable army of staff, and his man of business. It was more than big enough to accommodate a growing family and would be the perfect place to raise his children. But was he able to settle into a life of family and farming?
If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t think of anything worse. Until Portia crashed into his life, settling down was the last thing on his mind. Now, just over a week later, he was considering changing his entire lifestyle just to be with her. Although he couldn’t walk away from the Star Elite just yet; they were still at war after all, he couldn’t put his private life on hold indefinitely. At some point the war would be over – what then? He had no doubt the Star Elite would be around for years yet. As soon as the war was over, there were other issues blighting the country that could use the services of highly trained operatives such as themselves. He could be in the Star Elite for as long as he was physically able to carry out his duties, but did he want to spend his days lurking in trees, studying the shadows and keeping a wary eye over his shoulder?
Glancing back at her, he almost felt sorry for her predicament. As the miles passed, her shoulders began to droop and her head dip until her chin was almost touching her chest. She looked the picture of dejected misery, but Archie wasn’t falling for it. If she was worried for her immediate future, then good, the next time she considered going off on her own, she would probably think twice, especially if she had been told it was too dangerous. If she was stiff and uncomfortable, then even better, he had aged ten years in the brief amount of time he had needed to arrange the cloaks, saddle the horses and hurriedly make his plans to kidnap her without getting himself arrested.
Luckily, he had already discussed a route to Monkton with Pie, using overnight stop off points that would keep them away from prying eyes, and major towns and villages. They were going to use homes of associates and trusted people they knew, but now that was impossible. With both him and Pie to protect her, they could use the guise of escorting a witness to a place of safety. Now there was just Archie, turning up on anyone’s door and asking to be accommodated would call her reputation into question, and he couldn’t risk that. They were at least fifty miles from Belvedere, longer if they took a circuitous route to get there. They had at least two nights out on their own. If he could trust Portia not to try to creep off on her own in the middle of the night, he would find them an old barn or something to stay in. As it was, they were going to have to keep moving, leave the horses somewhere and continue on foot for as long as they were able to put one foot in front of the other. If Portia needed to rest, she was going to have to do it at Monkton.
Archie winced as his conscience pricked him once more. He couldn’t be so cold hearted to treat her in such a way. Instead, they would have to find a tavern in a small village somewhere and furnish the innkeeper with enough coinage to buy his silence.
Portia lapsed into sullen silence. Fear had taken root when she had called the man Archie and he had ignored her. Clearly, the man wasn’t Archie, and that thought terrified her. She also knew that he wasn’t big enough to be Pie, who was several inches taller and broader in the chest. So who was he? What did he want with her? She wondered briefly if it was Jamie, but that didn’t make sense given that Jamie had offered for her sister, Cecily.
None of the men she knew would have done to do what this man had, right under the noses of the townsfolk who had seemed oblivious to what was happening. How did she get kidnapped in the middle of the day without anyone noticing? Why hadn’t any of the townsfolk come to help her? It had been clear to anyone looking that she had been gagged and tied up, so were they all blind? Or were they just so disconnected from life that they didn’t want to know, or didn’t care about what went on around them?
She sighed once more and glanced about them. The skies had grown darker and now looked positively ominous. At any moment they were going to burst and they were going to be caught out in the ensuing deluge. As far as she could tell there was nothing around them for miles. They hadn’t passed anyone since leaving the walls of the jail. It was as though everyone else in the country had simply vanished, including the French spies.
The first drops of rain began to splatter onto the ground around them. Although Portia was wrapped in the folds of the cloak, she felt the chill in the stiff wind that increased in ferocity, tugging relentlessly at the thick material. Clutching it with tight fingers, she glared at the back of the man in front, watching as he turned around to check on her again. He had no sooner turned to face forward than he kicked his horse into a trot, leaving Portia to grab wildly at the saddle to prevent herself from falling off. Glaring at his back, she clung on for dear life, hating him with all of her heart as they increased their pace.
It was only when they rounded the bend in the road that Portia saw his intention. There, only a few feet ahead, was a single building. The swinging sign above the fro
nt door identified it as the Rose and Crown Inn. It was tiny, to say the least. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary house and, if it wasn’t for the sign outside, and the man in front who seemed to know it was there, Portia would have ignored it. She had little choice but to follow her kidnapper as he took them around the side of the inn into a small yard at the back.
Dragging her out of the saddle, he left her standing in the yard and led the horses into the shelter of two rickety stables beside another outbuilding, taking a few minutes to settle them. Portia huffed at being left standing out in the rain and turned to glare longingly at the gate she had just come through. Should she run into the inn and tell them that she had been kidnapped, and they should fetch help? She had no doubt that if she even took two steps, the man would be before her. She glanced around the yard, looking for anything she could hit him with, and was considering which object would do the most damage. The silent way he appeared beside her made her jump. She only just managed to stifle the scream that lodged in her throat as he placed a hard palm in the middle of her back and propelled her toward the tavern’s back door.
Once inside, Archie kept one hand on Portia’s tied wrists, planting himself firmly in front of her. Carefully removing the folds of his scarf, he beckoned to a maid that scurried past the doorway and screamed at the sight of him standing there dressed entirely in black. Immediately a big, burly inn keeper appeared in the doorway, roughly pushing the frightened maid out of the way. The dark scowl on the man’s face was replaced with wary suspicion as Archie motioned him close enough to whisper in his ear. The gold coins that vanished in the man’s meaty grip got him what he wanted and, within seconds, the scared maid was scurrying up the stairs without bothering to wait to see if they were following.
His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) Page 18