“How can you expect anything less?” Archie bit back the curse of frustration as she continued to stare in confusion at him, and was unable to keep the distrust off his face as he stared at her.
“What?” Portia stared at him, wondering what she had expected. From the look on his face, he was less than pleased with the prospect of what he was suggesting and that made her want to cry. She stared at him, as the cold wash of harsh reality swept through her.
If she had any doubts about his attitude toward what they had shared last night, all she had to do was look at his face now. He clearly expected to have to ‘do the right thing’ by her, and was less than pleased with the prospect. Humiliation stained her cheeks and straightened her spine. She turned to stare down at him haughtily, determined that he should never see just how much his reluctance to make a commitment to her broke her heart.
Feigning confusion, she shook her head slightly and frowned. “I’m talking about today. You know, leaving here,” she added when he made no move to follow her lead. “I mean, we can’t exactly stay here all day, now can we? What do you have planned? Where do we go? I assume you know.” She glared at him, ignoring the growing ache in her chest just where her heart lay. It took every ounce of courage and fortitude she possessed to keep her expression blank and wait for his answer.
Archie was nonplussed and stared at her suspiciously. He had thought she was asking what he intended to do about what they had shared last night while she on the other hand, seemed almost eager to get out of there and forget all about it. If her impassive expression was to be believed, she had already put what they had shared last night to one side, and was prepared to simply get on with her day as though nothing had happened. It irked him a little and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Still, if this was the way she wanted to play it, he was more than willing to follow her lead; for now, at least. If she needed time to come to terms with the enormity of what they had shared, he could understand that. The least he could do was give her the space she needed to gather her thoughts.
Portia watched as he pushed to his feet and waved toward the tray, seemingly happy to follow her lead and not have to discuss commitment.
“First we eat. Then we will go out to the horses and head on to the next stop. We are headed toward a place called Monkton Castle in Gloucestershire. It is perfectly safe and the best place for us right now. My superiors will visit us there when we send word that we have arrived.”
“How long will it take us to get there?” She didn’t think she could bear much more time alone with him, especially knowing that when they reached this Monkton Castle, they would be parting ways.
“We should arrive the day after tomorrow.” Archie took a warm bun off the tray and handed it to her. “I suggest you eat while you can, because we have a long day of riding ahead of us.”
Portia fought the instinctive wince at the thought of sitting astride the horse for hour after hour but there was little else for it. The alternative was to voice her reluctance, and the reasoning for it, and that was the last thing she intending to do. Instead she gave a brusque nod and began to eat.
Archie watched her teeth sink into the soft flesh of the bun and almost groaned. The memory of her tongue running over her teeth as her head tipped back while she rocked against him was so strong that he shifted uncomfortably against the growing ache in his loins. Despite claiming her twice already, his body still wanted more. It went some way toward convincing him that she was indeed the woman for him. Now all he had to do was convince her of that.
Their food was consumed in relative silence; each of them lost in their own thoughts, until Portia was almost eager to gather her cloak around her and head toward the door.
Despite only knowing him for a couple of weeks, her heart lay in shreds at her feet and she wasn’t sure how to pick up all of the pieces and put them back together again. His clear reluctance to have any further association with her once his commitment to keeping her safe from harm was over, was humiliating, embarrassing and heartbreaking all at once. She wanted to cry. She wanted to rage. She wanted to rant at the skies that it wasn’t fair.
All she had ever wanted in her life was someone she could share her life with, who wanted to be there, loved her in equal measure and hold her whenever life got difficult. She didn’t want to force anyone into matrimony, and was determined that Archie wasn’t going to make the ultimate sacrifice to satisfy any responsibilities he felt toward her.
It wasn’t as though she was going to have a father to protect her reputation. Almost everyone she knew lived back in Tissington, and that was one place she was never going near ever again. Aunt Adelaide was now the closest living relative she had and Portia was determined that her Aunt would fulfil her duty and help her find somewhere more suitable to live. Portia could only hope that there weren’t any unplanned repercussions from last night. Although she wasn’t too sure about the workings of it, she was fairly certain that what she had shared with Archie last night could have very easily left her with more responsibilities that even she wasn’t sure she could handle.
She struggled to keep the tears at bay as the possibility lay before her and she turned her head away as her chin wobbled alarmingly. She had considered marriage to a man twice her age was bad enough, but the thought of being married – loving someone like Archie, knowing he didn’t want to be with her, and having children with a man who preferred to be somewhere else, was even worse. Her heart wept for the loss of what might have been. After last night she had no doubt that he desired her – he just didn’t want to want her and that gave her the strength she needed to keep her distance from him.
It was easier said than done though when they spent the entire day riding beside each other. Archie had thoughtfully arranged for a pouch of food before they had left the inn and they had consumed this while waiting for a change of horses, mid-afternoon. The fresh horses increased the speed of their journey but there were still long periods of the day where the stilted conversation lulled between them and an uncomfortable silence settled in its wake.
By the time they ambled into another nondescript coaching inn just before dusk, Portia was disheartened, disgruntled and more devastated than she could ever remember being in her entire life.
She glanced over at Archie whose face looked like it had been carved in stone. There was no trace of the affable good humour she had come to know and love, and no sign of warmth or friendship in the quick glance he threw at her. It made her realise just how little she knew about him, and how much of a mistake last night really was.
Archie was more concerned about her than ever. She had ridden alongside him without a murmur all day, and not only without a murmur, without conversation as well. She had hardly spoken to him and had rebuffed the numerous attempts at conversation he had tried to instigate. The lady didn’t want to talk and at the beginning of the day, he had been happy to accommodate her need to gather her thoughts and have a bit of time by herself; as much as was possible anyway. Now, having spent the day with growing distance between them, he was growing angry at the ease in which she had dismissed what they had shared.
He was busy contemplating marriage; she was busy regretting what they had done and was pretending to ignore it.
By the time he had secured them a room and followed her up the stairs, he was steaming.
Slamming the door behind them he glared at her when she jumped and turned startled eyes toward him.
Lifting his brows, he glared at her defiantly and watched as she turned away disinterestedly.
Portia wondered where his temper had come from and what she had done to deserve it, but wasn’t prepared to raise issue with him given what had happened when they had argued the night before.
“I’m going down to the tap room,” Archie growled, throwing a disgusted look as he turned toward the door.
“Fine,” Portia replied, pretending not to be hurt.
“Fine,” Archie snapped, slamming the door behind him with more force than was
necessary. He should stay in the room with her given that he was her only protection but the tap room was located at the bottom of the stairs, and nobody could go up or down without him knowing about it. She was perfectly safe.
She had made it perfectly clear over the course of the day that she wished to be alone and, as far as he was concerned, she could spend the rest of the evening alone too.
Beckoning to a maid, he ordered pie and vegetables, arranging for a tray to be sent up to Portia, and settled back on his stool to drink his ale.
He should be relieved that she wasn’t trying to secure commitments from him and pressure him into making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. After all, he still had his work with the Star Elite to take into consideration. He couldn’t just walk away from the job; he was as committed to it as he would be to her when they married; if they married. Which, given her bad temper today, seemed less and less likely. Archie sighed, knowing that whatever happened, he would have to persuade her somehow. He just didn’t know how yet. Women were such an enigma to him and, while he had been more than happy to enjoy their delights on numerous occasions in the past when the need drove him, he had never stayed around long enough to consider anything deeper than a mere dalliance.
As a result, he had never deemed it necessary to even attempt to learn the workings of the female mind and had not given it any thought before because it had so little impact on his own life. Now though, he wished they came with an instruction book that he could follow from page to page because right now, he was lost.
He suddenly wished that Simon was there, or Hugo. Their relationships with their wives had emerged from their work through the Star Elite. They seemed blissfully happy with the changes in their circumstances and had traversed the road toward matrimony with quiet dignity.
Archie was beginning to suspect that his own route toward matrimony with Portia was going to be fraught with danger, littered with debris and about as rocky as climbing the nearest mountain – without boots on.
Rubbing a weary hand down his face, he stifled a yawn and frowned down at the plate of food that was placed onto the table before him. He glanced up into the face of the maid, who smiled seductively at him and leaned forward ever so slightly so he could eye the amble bosom she had been bestowed with. Archie glanced down into the lee of her breasts and lifted his brows. Glancing up at the open invitation on her face, he realised then just how much Portia had changed him. At one time he would have taken the young maid up on her offer and spent the night showing her just what a real man could do.
Now though? It felt tawdry. Even looking at the pale orbs of the breasts almost spilling out of the thin material of her serving dress made him feel guilty and his thoughts immediately turned toward the woman sitting alone in the room upstairs. His lips immediately turned downward and he glanced regretfully at the woman’s face, shaking his head slowly. He was about to offer her cold comfort, when the movement of someone on the stairs captured his attention. He froze at the sight of Portia staring at him and swore at the look on her face.
Portia had seen the seductive actions of the maid and Archie’s appreciation of her offer. The sight of Portia standing on the stairs had been as effective as having a bucket of water tossed over his head because his face was now a picture of regret. The urge to turn around and head back to the room was so strong that she briefly hovered on the step before pride replaced her hurt. Squaring her shoulders she continued down the stairs, her back ram-rod straight. She had no sooner left the bottom step when Archie appeared at her side.
“I thought you were staying in the room,” he murmured softly, moving to stand before her.
“Am I to be held prisoner there too?” She asked haughtily, tipping her chin up to glare defiantly at him. Rather than wait for his reply she snorted inelegantly and moved to skirt around him. “The tray that was sent up didn’t have anything to drink on it, and I am thirsty.”
“Come. Sit. Share a meal with me,” Archie urged, catching hold of her elbow and beckoning toward the table where his own meal was waiting.
“No thank you, I’ll go back to the room.” Portia wrenched her elbow out of his grip and headed toward the bar, arranging for wine to be sent up as soon as possible. Ignoring Archie, who continued to linger at her elbow, she climbed the stairs with all the regal aplomb of a queen.
By the time she reached the quiet confines of the room, tears were pooling on her lashes. She closed the door behind her and sucked in a quivering breath. She wanted to throw herself on the bed and howl out the misery. The memory of the desire on his face as he had stared at the flirtatious maid had been about as effective as a slap in her face, and it hurt. Right then, she hated him just as much as she loved him.
To her, last night had been something beautiful, something so shatteringly perfect that it had shaken her to her very core. She knew that she would never forget what they had shared, even if she ignored the changes her wanton behaviour had brought her. She had asked him for nothing and he had offered her nothing. She had no right to be angry with him if he sought physical comfort from someone else tonight. Especially given the way the distance had grown between them. For her, she knew she would never experience with another everything that she had shared with Archie.
For him, that was clearly last night. Gone and forgotten.
Cursing herself for being several kinds of fool, Portia picked up her cloak from the chair, folded it and placed it very carefully back on the seat. Lost for something else to do, she sat at the table beside the window and listlessly began to eat. In fact, she tasted very little of the sumptuous meat and gravy. Instead staring absently out of the window into the darkness beyond, listening to the echoes of laughter and conversation from the tap room below.
She had never felt so alone and so lost in her entire life as she did right then. Despite the noise, for all intents and purposes she could have been the only person in the world. Once again, she longed to have Cecily to confide in. Her thoughts turned to her sister once more and she felt a shiver of fear at the possibility that Cecily might not have fared as well as she had. The thought of Cecily fighting for her life using heavy lumps of wood as she had done filled her with horror, and she could only hope that Jamie had proven true to his word and protected her to the best of his ability. But, until she received word that Cecily was alright, there was little she could do to change the course of either of their lives.
Although Archie had plans for them to remain at Monkton Castle until the threat of the spy smugglers had gone, Portia had every intention of taking her own future into her own hands. She had escaped her father’s matrimonial plans, and wasn’t about to be forced into marriage to anyone else, by anyone else, and that included Archie.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Archie watched her disappear from sight and glanced down at his meal as he contemplated following her. The hunger he had felt only moments before had suddenly vanished and the meal had about as much appeal as rubbing sand into his own eyes. Still, he had learned long ago that he had no idea when he would be able to take his next meal and had to get as much sustenance as he could, while he could. With that in mind, he sat back down at the table and forced himself to consume what was placed before him.
By the time he did return to the room later that night, it was clear that Portia had been busy. On first entering the room, his gaze turned toward the bed, expecting her to be between the sheets fast asleep. His heart lurched at the sight of the empty bed, and he flicked a stark glance around the room, his mind frantically racing until his eyes landed on the chairs on the opposite side of the room. Portia had pushed them both together and now lay curled up, beneath a thin blanket, with her head resting on a folded pillow on the hard arm of one of the chairs.
Archie walked quietly across the room to stand beside her. She looked so uncomfortably bent and twisted in such a small space, that his heart went out to her. Had he hurt her last night more than she was letting on? Or was she still sore from last night, and uncomfortable
from a long day in the saddle that had followed? He wasn’t sure and could hardly broach the subject with her given her reluctance to even talk to him, but it was evident from her clear aversion to sharing the bed that she had no desire to repeat last night’s intimacies.
The warrior within him refused to allow her to sleep on the chair while he took the bed and slowly bent over her, carefully lifting her into his arms as though she was made of the finest porcelain.
Portia jumped and gasped, staring up into the stern lines of Archie’s face.
“Put me down,” she whispered, her heart hammering in her throat.
“You cannot sleep in the chair,” Archie replied gently, lowering her onto the bed and drawing the turned down sheets over her despite the fact that she was still fully dressed. He didn’t wait for her to protest, merely eased himself down beside her on top the sheets and sighed deeply as the soft mattress seemed to envelope him. Tiredness began to draw him down but he refused to relinquish control. He could feel her eyes staring at him in the darkness and glared darkly at the ceiling.
“I’m not going to touch you tonight, so relax and get some sleep while you can. It has been a long day and tomorrow is going to be even longer. If we set out early, we can be at Monkton by nightfall, or shortly thereafter.”
He didn’t add that at Monkton, the food would be plentiful, the beds made with the finest down and the sheets the finest cotton. His staff would see to it that she had everything she wanted, whenever she wanted it, and Portia would have all the time in the world to accept the fact that her future lay with him.
Portia squirmed in the saddle and gasped as the huge beast stumbled beneath her. She hated horses, and would be grateful if she never had to ride on one again. Although it had been liberating to ride astride to begin with, the newness had soon worn off and was replaced by a stiff discomfort that made the insides of her thighs feel bruised. She wasn’t usually a whiner, but nightfall had descended a while ago now and, as far as she could see, there was no castle anywhere near.
His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) Page 20