A cold flash of anger swept over the Frenchman’s face. Stephen watched Rousseau’s finger twitch on the gun’s trigger, and contemplated whether he should draw his own gun and shoot first. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly kill the man in cold blood, especially while he was sitting down. However, if Stephen didn’t draw this to a halt to soon, Rousseau would undoubtedly start to take pot shots, and they couldn’t afford that with Robbie present. At some point, the Frenchman would want Harry and Stephen out of the way and, from what they had seen him do to Taylor, he was a crack shot. Any moment now, either one of them could be picked off.
It was imperative that Stephen keep control of the situation. While he kept his stance relaxed and his face impassive, his mind raced frantically to find a way to get the boy out of the room without breaking eye contact with Rousseau. He didn’t need to worry though, because a rattle at the window drew Rousseau’s attention. When the Frenchman pushed to his feet, the break in concentration was all Stephen needed.
He was aware that Harry shoved Robbie to the floor, but didn’t bother to look at them. He kept his eyes locked on the Frenchman, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The echo of gunfire exploded for a second time around the room. This time though, it was followed by a loud, high-pitched scream. Rousseau staggered back and stared at his gnarled, blood stained hand before he turned almost feral eyes on Stephen, who didn’t hesitate to shoot the man’s other hand.
Stephen wanted to order Robbie to run home and not stop until he got there, but had no idea who was outside the door. Given that nobody had arrived in response to gunfire that took Taylor’s life, he was apt to think that there was nobody else on the estate; that the men had indeed fled, or been killed. He knew that it was far safer to keep Robbie with them. He did, however, send a silent prayer of forgiveness to Prudence for what the boy had experienced over the evening.
He turned his attention back to the Frenchman who, having been rendered useless, reverted back to his mother tongue and began to speak loudly in French as he held his damaged hands aloft. Although Stephen didn’t understand a lot of what was shouted, he was fairly certain that he had heard a swear word or two in there somewhere.
He watched Harry lunge across the room and tackle the Frenchman to the floor. Despite the pain, the man swung wildly with his bloodied hands and cursed as he desperately tried to fight the pain and break free. Although the man was injured, Harry didn’t hesitate to draw one large fist back, and plant it firmly in the middle of the man’s face. With a satisfying, bone crunching thud, Rousseau fell to the ground without a murmur.
Stephen and Harry dragged the unconscious man across the room to the chair Robbie had been tied to. Once the man was seated, they tied him securely to the wooden frame before he could slump to the floor. Relieved that it was finally over, Stephen stood and contemplated Rousseau’s limp body for a moment before he turned to look at Harry.
At that moment, he realised that Robbie was sobbing into his hands while Harry patted him on the back and murmured nonsensically to him.
“God, I am sorry, Robbie,” Stephen muttered. He hurried across the room and barely got within a few feet before Robbie lunged across the short distance toward him. Thin arms wrapped tightly around his waist as the young boy clung on for dear life and continued to cry.
“I thought it was you,” Robbie cried. “I thought it was you who got shot.”
Stephen mentally cursed at the sight of the horror on the young boy’s face. Although Rousseau had been stopped from being any further threat to anyone, they couldn’t lose sight of the fact that they had no idea if any of the man’s hired thugs remained outside and were waiting for further orders.
It was far too dangerous to remain at Dinnington and wait for help to arrive. Stephen was fairly certain that Rufus wouldn’t just leave his protective post up at Cragdale without being dragged out. Someone, either Stephen or Harry, had to go and get help.
“I will go,” Harry sighed. “Move the boy into another room and stay safe.”
“Are you sure?” Although Stephen wanted to get Robbie back to Prudence as quickly as possible, it was safer if they hid in the relative safety of the house rather than venture out into the darkness. At least inside the huge house, there were plenty of places they could hide if Rousseau’s men came to look for them. However, the young boy’s distress hadn’t diminished now that the threat of danger had been eradicated, and it would be almost impossible to hide anywhere with him and keep him quiet enough to avoid detection.
“Let’s get Rousseau down into the cellars and out of the way. He can stay down there until we come back for him,” Harry suggested and motioned toward the chair.
Stephen managed to ease Robbie’s hold on him enough to bend down to peer into the young lad’s face. “Are you going to help us? We need you to light the way. Let’s get this oaf downstairs, in the darkest dungeon we can find. He can stay there until Rufus and his men come for him.”
Robbie nodded and offered him a weak smile. The boy’s fear was written on his pale face, but there was little Stephen could do.
Half an hour later, with Rousseau tied more firmly to the chair in the darkest corner of the cellars, they hurriedly left the house. Once outside, Stephen placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s bony shoulder and motioned to him to remain quiet. The grounds were still and silent; only the occasional hoot of an owl could be heard somewhere off in the distance. Reassured that they weren’t going to be challenged at all, they wasted no time and left Dinnington far behind.
Robbie still had tears on his face when they reached the back door of Cragdale. “Prudence is going to kill me for what you have seen today,” Stephen sighed, and rubbed a weary hand down his face as he thought of the roasting she would undoubtedly give him.
“I won’t tell her,” Robbie replied hesitantly.
Harry offered him a rueful smile. “You might not, but I certainly will. Your sisters need to know what you have been through tonight, and you can tell them how you helped to capture one of England’s most wanted criminals.”
“Most wanted criminals?” Robbie gasped. His eyes popped wide with surprise and he glanced from Stephen to Harry, with a look of awe on his face. “Really?”
“Really,” Stephen replied ruefully. He got no further opportunity to speak for the next several moments, because the door was yanked open and Prudence appeared, bathed in a halo of light.
“Where in the hell have you been?” she demanded at the same time as she hauled the young boy into her arms and gave him a huge hug. She had barely released him before he was swept into the house by a clearly shaken Eloisa, who dragged him to sit before the fire.
Prudence remained where she was and turned her attention to Stephen. Her heart pounded in her chest at the wonderful sight of him standing in the dim light of the hallway. Oblivious to Harry’s presence, she launched herself into Stephen’s arms and gave him the biggest hug she could manage.
“You are hurt,” she gasped at the sight of the smears of blood on his shirt, and began to pat him randomly across his chest in search of a wound.
He futilely tried to capture her hands while he stepped aside, mindful of the fact that Harry still stood on the doorstep. He shook his head at his colleague’s smirk but was too touched by her open display of fear and worry for him to really care what anyone thought. “I am fine, really. It isn’t my blood.” He managed to capture at least one of her hands, and it was enough for him to haul her into his arms for a proper kiss.
Several moments later, Prudence found herself released again just as quickly and had to take a moment to try to gather her scattered wits about her. Did he say that he hadn’t been hurt? Her eyes flew over him, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. There were faint smears of blood on him, but no evidence of any injury. She looked askance at him and crossed her arms as she waited.
“Come into the sitting room and I will tell you.” He needed to tell Rufus anyway and, from the mulish look on Prudence’s face, knew that sh
e would continue to pester him until she knew everything. He could try to spare her blushes, but he didn’t want to start their married life with any kind of secrecy between them. She needed to know just how dangerous his job could be sometimes, and just what kind of people the Star Elite dealt with.
Over the next hour, he and Harry described what had happened, ably assisted by a suddenly communicative Robbie. Now that he was in the safety of his own home, his initial fear had subsided, and he was more or less back to his usual chatty self. It was a relief to see the light back in the boy’s eyes and the colour return to his cheeks.
When Harry had finished where they had left Rousseau, Rufus nodded and headed toward the door. “I will go and round up my men. I think that we will leave him at Dinnington for the time being and move him in the morning. My men can keep an eye on him. If any of his thugs appear, we will arrest them too.”
“We have no idea what happened to the rest of the employees,” Harry replied, and gave Rufus a pointed look. “They may have disappeared, but they may still be waiting somewhere for further instructions.”
“Don’t worry, I am sure that if they are there my men will find them.” He didn’t add that at least two of his most trusted men were old employees from Dinnington, and knew the estate like the back of their hands. If the thus Rousseau had employed were anywhere nearby, his men would know where to find them.
Relieved to be able to have such unquestionable support from the magistrate, Stephen sat back in his chair and glanced at the sheaf of papers Robbie held out to him.
“What are those?” Stephen frowned as he took them off him. When he had entered the room he had made sure that Prudence sat as close beside him as was possible and had savoured her reassuring warmth beside him. He removed his arm from around her shoulders and leaned forward to study the papers in his hand.
“I took them off the table while you carried Rousseau toward the door. I didn’t know if any of the men were outside and didn’t want to risk that they would be taken before you could get a good look at them. The man who got killed was looking for something in them. I thought you might know what it was.”
Stephen was stunned and flicked at glance at Harry, who chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “Good God, Robbie, we could do with you on our team,” Harry chortled and looked at the boy with pride.
Robbie preened at his own cleverness being recognised by someone like Harry and puffed his chest out importantly.
Stephen studied the papers with a mixture of shock and horror that was rapidly followed by relief. “Jesus,” he whispered, and flicked page after page.
“What is it?” Prudence demanded when she couldn’t stand the suspense any more. Even Harry looked impatient to know what Stephen was looking at.
“Here, take a look for yourself,” he murmured and handed Prudence several of the papers.
She gasped as she studied the ownership deeds to Cragdale Manor. She went cold all over and felt her hands begin to shake as her mind tried to grasp the fact that the papers she held were the deeds to Cragdale Manor. She flicked one of the pages and stared in horror at her uncle’s signature.
“He sold Cragdale,” she whispered, and felt the sting of tears that she couldn’t bring herself to blink away. A heavy silence settled over the room.
“Sold it?” Eloisa repeated weakly. “To Levant?”
Prudence shook her head. “Uncle Bernard has sold Cragdale Manor to someone called Charles Taylor,” she shook the paper in an attempt to get her blurry eyes to focus on the scrawl. “According to this, about a week ago.” Her voice trailed off to a husky whisper.
“It is fine,” Stephen assured her.
Prudence stared at him. “How can you say this is fine?” She demanded, her voice rising. “He has sold the family home.”
“Who is Charles Taylor?” Eloisa’s voice was full of tears.
“He was Levant’s man of business,” Stephen replied gently. “The tall man who paid the threatening visits with Levant, but never spoke.”
“But Taylor and Levant are dead now,” Prudence gulped, unsure what this meant for the family. “So who owns the house we live in?”
“Right now? His Majesty, I think. The house was purchased by a traitor to England, and a dead one at that. My boss, Sir Hugo, will sort out ownership.” He glanced ruefully at Harry before he turned a smile on Prudence. “Hugo will be more than sympathetic to your situation and will ensure that the house is turned over to you.”
He knew that his own offer for the house had been made too late, but all was not lost. As soon as he explained to Sir Hugo that his offer had been more personal than official, he was certain that the head of the Star Elite would ensure that the house remained in the family.
“But how? I mean, we haven’t purchased it.”
“There are ways and means, Prudence,” Stephen replied smugly. “There are ways and means.”
He started to laugh when, for the second time that evening, Prudence threw herself at him and hugged the life out of him. In spite of the teasing and laughter from Robbie and her sisters, he swept his arms around her and drew her into a hug.
He was tired, hungry and, in spite of all of his years with the Star Elite, more than a little shaken at the memory of seeing Robbie tied helplessly to a chair but he wouldn’t have changed this precious moment for a second.
While everyone in the room chattered around him, he sat back and simply absorbed the noise while he contemplated life. He had spent many years fighting, first for king and country with the army, before being conscripted into the specialist unit of fighters who were sent to carry out tasks that no otherwise reputable man would consider getting involved in. In the five or so years since had been with the Star Elite, he had seen things and done things that he would much rather forget. Throughout all of that, he had considered himself to be comfortable in his own skin. He was a man of the world who knew what he was and who he was, and was proud of what he had achieved in his nine and twenty years. He had never once considered himself to be short of anything he considered important and had been satisfied with his lot in life. That is, until Prudence and her family had landed in the middle of his life and caused carnage.
Now, he had an entirely different future mapped out for him; one that he hadn’t even considered possible before, and it included a complete family. He glanced around at Prudence, Eloisa, Madeline, Margaret and Georgiana before he turned his attention to their young brother, Robbie. The Freestone family had endured far more than any young group of people should, but had faced the hardships together, with a determination to protect, guide and help each other. That willingness to unquestioningly support their loved ones while asking nothing in return had humbled not only him, but his colleagues, Marcus and Harry. Their home, as impoverished as it might be, had belonged to someone else, but they had still looked after it with a diligence that should have shamed their uncle into at least being fair with them in return.
As it was, Stephen had no doubts about committing the rest of his life to helping them return the house to its former glory, and was looking forward to the day when he could call Prudence his wife, and wouldn’t have to sneak about the house at the crack of dawn to avoid detection. He shared a smile with Prudence and drew her closer so that he could kiss her forehead. Whatever the future held in store for them, Cragdale Manor was home to all of them, and would always remain that way.
Prudence sighed with contentment. She cast a furtive glance at the clock and wondered what he had done to her. At one point in her life she would never have considered being so openly affectionate with any man, especially one who only a few short weeks ago had considered the enemy. Now, here she was, through his patience and loving gentleness, betrothed to him with the prospect of being married in only a few short weeks.
When they had returned from the beach earlier, he had made it perfectly clear that he would accept no delay in getting married, and would not leave to meet with his boss in London until she was his wife. Th
en he would meet with Sir Hugo, and discuss his future with the Star Elite, before he returned to Cragdale to make arrangements for the first round of repairs to the house. After a rather sensual bout of love making that still had the ability to bring a blush to her cheeks, they had talked through many issues, not least the rather touchy subject of Agatha. Prudence had finally relented enough to allow Stephen to arrange for a doctor from London to visit and examine Agatha’s mental health. At which point they agreed that as a family, they would decide the best course of action to take with her.
Whatever happened in the future, Prudence knew that with a man like Stephen by her side, she would be happy, protected, safe and loved, and she in turn would make sure that wherever his work took him, he would always have a place he could call home, and someone there who loved him with all of her heart.
Life didn’t get any better than that.
The End.
BOOKS BY REBECCA KING
Further details on all of Rebecca’s books can be found on her website:
Rebeccaking-author.co.uk
TIPTON HOLLOW SERIES
Harriett (Tipton Hollow Book 1) – Released October 2014
Beatrice (Tipton Hollow Book 2) – Released December 2014
Tuppence (Tipton Hollow Book 3) – Released January 2014
Constance (Tipton Hollow Book 4) – Released February 2014
Eloisa (Tipton Hollow Book 5) – Released February 2014
The Curious Jane Thompson (Tipton Hollow Book 6) – Released March 2014
Captive Surrender Page 21