Unseen hands began to claw at him, and draw him steadily backward, further away from her. He tried to cry out but his scream wouldn’t come. His arms ached to reach out to her but he couldn’t lift them. They felt as though they belonged to someone else, but who? Why couldn’t he control the direction of his own arms?
A cry hovered on his lips. His eyes flew open. Sweat beaded his brow and he waited for several long moments for his pounding heart to return to its normal rhythm. His breath sawed in and out as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He ached from head to foot, but why?
He lay perfectly still for several minutes and listened to the clock on the mantle while he tried to force his thoughts into some semblance of order. It took some time before the fog of his nightmare dissipated enough for him to think about the events of last night. He could vaguely recall having kissed her; Prudence, but where?
In spite of the pain in throbbed in his head, Stephen slowly opened his eyes only to wince as the soft, warm glow of the fire intensified the discomfort. The room he was in was sparsely furnished but was at least dry, and warmer than the rooms he usually stayed in. He didn’t know how he knew this, but felt certain that he was right. A dull ache at the back of his head made him grit his teeth and he drew in a deep breath to quell the fierce anger that rose at the realisation that someone had knocked him out. How long had he been out for?
The ticking of a clock somewhere at the far end of the room was the only sound that broke the silence. He didn’t mind though, it reminded him that he was still alive. What had happened? Had Levant sent Humphrey after him?
He sucked in a breath and began to take stock of his injuries. His feet were about the only part of him that didn’t feel bruised. He was fairly certain that he was naked beneath the sheets and, although he was warm and dry, every single inch of him ached fiercely. His head was by far the most painful, and his arms had given way to pins and needles that were bordering on a dull ache. Was he tied down? Why?
Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, he winced as his head protested against any kind of movement. He refused to be thwarted though and took a deep breath before he glanced slowly around the room anyway. It was definitely a feminine room. The curtains had delicate flowers on them, and there was a pink shawl lying abandoned on a rocking chair before the fireplace. There was very little else in the room except for the bed and a couple of odd bits of furniture, but it was the person beside him who captured his attention.
Prudence.
She was fast asleep and curled up in a hard, wooden chair beside the bed in an uncomfortable position that he knew would make her stiff and sore in the morning. Even in slumber she was beautiful. Had he kissed her last night? Was she the one who had smacked him on the head? He was fairly certain that she was but, for the life of him, couldn’t remember why.
He studied the ceiling with a frown, and tried to think over the events of the previous evening. He had seen Mr Simpson pleading for his life, or had that been the day before? He couldn’t be sure, but he knew that he had seen Mr Simpson’s body. That had been on the beach. He could vaguely recall having stood near the house just to check that everything was alright, and had seen Humphrey leave something on the beach. He had followed Levant’s thug back to the gates at Dinnington before he had returned to the beach. There he had found the result of Humphrey’s recent round of brutality, all in the name of Levant’s mission to obtain as much of the coastline in the area as possible.
He had been studying Mr Simpson’s body, trying to find a cause of death when he had heard the quiet murmur of voices approaching. With very few options available to him, he had melted into the shadows to watch and wait. If Prudence and her brother had remained near the cliff path that led to the house, they wouldn’t have seen Mr Simpson’s body in the moonlight. Stephen had watched the young lad approach the body, and could recall him screeching like a banshee at the sight of the dead man on the beach. What had happened after that was somewhat of a blur, although he could distinctly recall looking down into Prudence’s startled eyes and thinking how beautiful she looked up close.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t be sure if the kiss had been a figment of his wayward imagination: more a yearning than a reality, but there was something deep inside him that refused to dismiss the faint recollection as mere wishful thinking. If he had gotten a moment alone with Prudence, and they had been lying down on the beach: although how they had got that way, heaven only knew, he would most definitely have taken advantage of the situation and kissed her.
Maybe it had been her who had screeched like a banshee, he thought dourly.
Whoever had hit him had done a very efficient job. His head ached like the very devil was pounding in it, and he felt his stomach churn alarmingly. It forewarned him that if he didn’t wake Prudence up, he was going to humiliate himself right there and then.
While he tried to stem the rising tide of sickness, he became aware of a rather more pressing need of a more intimate nature and he wondered where the hell the young lad was. He couldn’t see where the clock was across the room, but didn’t rightly care if anyone was in bed. They had brought him here and, for some reason only known to themselves, had seen fit to tie him to the blasted bed. He had no intention of sparing their blushes when it came to his most basic bodily functions.
He opened his mouth to call for Prudence, only to frown and close it with a snap. He winced when a dull ache behind his eyes immediately began to turn into fierce pain, and wondered what he was going to do now. Giving the ties an experimental tug, he cursed under his breath at the dexterity of the knot maker. He was trussed up like a chicken. Heaven only knew what they had done with his clothes. Even if he could ignore the pain long enough to untie himself, and use the chamber pot, what then? He could hardly break free and return to Dinnington wearing nothing more than one of Prudence’s shawls.
Cursing his luck, he wondered just how bad life could get. Not only had he been unable to prevent the murder of an innocent man, but he had now been taken prisoner in a house full of women. His friends in the Star Elite would laugh their backsides off if they ever got wind of the fact that he had been bested by a bunch of females and a young boy.
Should he pretend to be ill so that they could take pity on him and release his bindings? What if he did manage to get free? He was fairly certain that he would be able to get out of the house. His head ached fiercely, but it wasn’t a life-threatening injury. It would slow him down, but he was made of sterner stuff and could ignore it long enough to get back to Dinnington, but what would he say to Levant? What would he do if Levant got wind of the fact that he had spent the night, alone, with a bunch of unchaperoned females, especially at Cragdale Manor?
He thought about his nightmare, and the urge to protect Prudence from the dangers that surrounded her. The frustration at his inability to get to her and offer her the protection he ought still rankled; still lurked in the back of his mind like a demon waiting to strike. Could he go back to Dinnington and watch Levant continue to harass the family? Stephan now knew that Levant was so determined to get his hands on the coast-line that he was prepared to murder for it. He couldn’t bear the thought of Prudence, or any of her family for that matter, ending up the same way as Mr Simpson.
Although he had been sent to Levant to gather evidence on the man’s connections to French spies, he had a duty to protect the public, and that included Prudence and her family. His thoughts turned to Rufus, and he mentally applauded the magistrate’s willingness to do his bit. If only he could speak to the man and gain his confidence, Rufus could ensure that messages to Hugo were despatched as securely as possible, while Stephen remained in the house to protect the family. He had already checked Rufus Denbigh’s background when he had first arrived, and he had proven to be a very solid pillar of the community. If there was anyone in the area who he knew he could count on, it was Rufus.
Now, if only he could get off the bed, he could see to his needs and try to get Prudence to release
him.
“Prudence,” Stephen growled. He waited and scowled when she showed no sign of having heard him. “Prudence!” He bellowed and immediately cursed as shafts of pain exploded over the top of his head.
“What? Oh, heavens above,” Prudence whispered, one hand clutched tightly against her heart. Even though her eyes were open, they were as slumberous and confused as the rest of her.
Stephen groaned, although wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of his injuries or the sight of her sitting so close, looking so sleepily befuddled. He willed himself to keep hold of his patience and heaved a breath to steady his anger. If he started to rant at her, he would undoubtedly be tied to the bloody bed for the next decade, and would be found by his colleagues in the Star Elite, a wizened old man who was as batty as Prudence’s mother.
“I need help,” Stephen grumbled, and eyed her balefully. He refused to explain what his problem was. It galled him to think that he had to ask any female for help, especially this one, whose good opinion of him mattered so much.
“Yes, you do,” Prudence sighed around a yawn. “Are you in pain?” She gasped when the last vestige of sleep left her and she realised he was awake, and blazingly angry from the look of the dark scowl he was giving her.
“I need you to untie me from this blasted bed.”
“I am afraid I will do no such thing,” Prudence replied with an affronted sniff.
As though she would be that stupid, she snorted disparagingly. She had no doubt that he wanted her to take pity on him and untie him. She had first-hand experience of just how devious he could be. This time though, unfortunately for him, she had kept the heavy piece of driftwood she had used on him on the beach, and would have no compunction against using it again if he chose to be a difficult patient.
It wasn’t lost on her that nobody had decided yet what they were going to do with him. They could hardly untie him and run. How could they get him out of the house without any one of them being in significant danger? Unfortunately, though, they couldn’t leave him tied to the bed indefinitely. At some point he would have to do – erm – things, and he would need to be fed. She had enough work to do looking after her mother, she had no intention of being a maid a fully grown male who was perfectly capable of looking after himself. She would have thrown him out of the house right there and then, if only she could be certain that he would have gone.
Valiantly turning her gaze away from the expanse of broad chest visible above the white sheet, she looked down at him. It made her feel somewhat safer to be on her feet around this man, which was ridiculous really because he was tied tighter than Mr Cresswell’s donkey.
“I need to do something,” Stephen sighed, wondering which was worse; the desperate urge to use the chamber pot, or the ache in his head.
“I am sure that you do, but it will have to wait until morning.”
Stephen scoffed at that and gave her a glare that she blithely ignored. “I am not going to wait that long. You either untie me now, or I will wreck this bed.” He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to manage that, but put enough menace in his tone to warn her that he was barely containing his anger and disgust, and she would rue the day that he unleashed it on her.
Prudence, blasted female that she was, appeared to be completely oblivious to the threat of danger, and merely cast him a dirty look as she moved toward the fireplace where she placed more logs onto the embers before she sat down in the rocking chair. Bathed in a golden glow from the fire, she looked almost angelic, but he wondered if she had been sent from hell to torment him.
Totally exasperated, Stephen glared at her for several long moments. Threats didn’t work. He couldn’t do much in the way of seduction. Being tied to the bed was all well and good; he was willing to give anything a go as much as the next man, but would need Prudence a hell of a lot closer to have any fun at all. He studied the mulish tilt to her chin. She was most definitely the head of the household and had a determination and strength about her that appealed to him. He just had no idea how to appeal to her.
She put you here, and has undoubtedly already seen far more of you than your own mother has, Stephen mused wryly. It was time to challenge her a little, and see just how unshakeable she really was beneath that bristly exterior.
“If you don’t let me off this bed, I am afraid that you will just have to do it for me,” Stephen said in a conversational tone that drew her attention far quicker than any shout would have done.
Prudence merely lifted her brows and waited. Their eyes met and held over the distance of the bedroom. Each challenged the other in a silent battle of wills that neither was prepared to back down from. Stephen smiled slowly, but it wasn’t a softly seductive smile. It was a cool, calculating smile that warned her that she was going to be mightily sorry for having stood up to him.
“Do you have a chamber pot?”
Prudence’s stomach dropped to her toes at his question and she coughed uncomfortably while she willed her cheeks not to blush. Of course he would have physical needs; ones that she certainly wasn’t going to help him with. She sucked in a deep breath, and struggled to keep her face impassive as she left the chair and reached under the bed for the porcelain pot.
Desperately trying to keep her anxiety off her face, she slammed it down on the bed beside him with a smile, and regally sauntered out.
There, see what you can do with that, she mused with a smirk of satisfaction on her face. She was about to head downstairs only to hesitate at the top step. She stared into the darkness of the entry hall and wondered when she had changed so much that she could be so callous. The man had injuries that she had given him. Even though he had been threatening Robbie at the time, he hadn’t deserved to be whacked twice with the lump of wood. Heaven only knew how much pain he must be in. Although his eyes had been bright and his speech normal, that didn’t mean he wasn’t in discomfort. Could she really leave him all night with the desperate urge to do something as simple as use the chamber pot?
She sighed, and eyed the gun beside the wall. Shaking her head in disbelief, she hefted its unfamiliar weight and stalked back into the room.
“I am going to untie one arm. That’s all you should need. Try and untie your other arm and you will regret it,” she warned darkly.
Stephen lifted his brows and stared askance at the decrepit old gun she held in hands that trembled alarmingly. He shook his head and wondered when the world had descended into utter madness, and sighed.
“One hand is all I need,” he grumbled and winced as she unknotted one of the ties. He groaned as pain lanced down his arm. Immediately, pins and needles began to replace the numbness and for, one brief moment, he almost wished that she had left him tied up.
Prudence placed the chamber pot at his feet and stood indecisively for a moment. She quickly averted her gaze when he sat upright and the sheet immediately fell to his waist. Her gasp locked in her throat and she glanced at the door to the hallway longingly. She would have gone, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that if she left him alone he could untie his other hand himself and get free. A steady blush blossomed in her cheeks and she inwardly cringed at the realisation that she would have to remain in the room while he did the necessary. Wishing she could put her fingers in her ears, she turned her back to the room and stared blankly at the shutter while she waited.
“Where are my clothes?”
“Drying downstairs,” Prudence sighed, more than a little uncomfortable. She wished that he hadn’t woken up, but then was glad that he hadn’t woken when any of her sister’s had been keeping watch.
“What are you going to do now?” Stephen sighed as he eased back down onto the bed. He knew now that he was nowhere near strong enough to force his way off the bed just let, let alone blaze a trail out of the door, even if he wanted to. The pounding in his head was starting to make his vision blurry, although the sickness had eased a little and he settled back onto the soft mattress with something akin to relief.
“What do you mean
?”
“Well, you can hardly leave me tied to the bed now, can you?”
“As soon as you are well again, you can go back to where you came from,” Prudence replied crisply. “Until then, you are staying where you are. I have sisters and a younger brother to protect and, given that you are one of our worst enemies right now, I am sure that even you will understand why you need to be restrained so. Tomorrow morning, we will speak to Rufus about your trespassing on our property. I am sure that he will have a few questions for you to answer.”
Stephen felt a surge of jealousy at the familiar way she used the local magistrate’s first name. When had ‘Mr Denbigh’ become ‘Rufus’; what had he missed? As far as he knew, Rufus Denbigh was a confirmed bachelor. Had he set his sights on the woman before him? That thought was enough to make Stephen scowl darkly at the ceiling. He had no idea when, or how, Prudence had become so important to him, but he had no intention of simply standing to one side and allowing the debonair, bachelor magistrate to help himself to the only woman who had captured Stephen’s emotions in all of his adult life.
“Good,” Stephen snapped, suddenly feeling disgruntled. “I have a few things to say to the magistrate myself.”
Prudence shook her head and placed the gun on the floor beside the rocking chair as she sat down.
“I wouldn’t try to use that thing if I were you,” Stephen murmured as he eyed the long barrel of the old gun in disgust.
“Oh, and why not?” She demanded with her nose in the air. It would serve his purposes if she didn’t threaten him with it, but she wasn’t going to be fooled so easily. However, his next words chilled her to the bone.
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