The Lady Is Innocent (The Star Elite Series)

Home > Historical > The Lady Is Innocent (The Star Elite Series) > Page 1
The Lady Is Innocent (The Star Elite Series) Page 1

by Rebecca King




  THE LADY IS INNOCENT

  The Star Elite

  Book Five

  By

  Rebecca King

  © Rebecca King 2014

  The moral right of Rebecca King to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any informational storage and retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, either living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Further books in a new series will be published shortly.

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Florrie sat in the congregation and listened to the vicar drone on and on about the sanctity of marriage and struggled not to yawn against the boredom that threatened to overwhelm her. She glanced across the aisle at the tall and rather distinguished looking gentleman someone had called Rupert, and bit back a smile at the sight of him battling his own drooping eyelids. It wasn’t that the service was boring; it was by far the most wonderful wedding Florabunda ‘Florrie’ Seabrook had ever attended. It was just that the pews were hard, the church was cold, and the vicar had a voice that was as dull as dishwater.

  Still, she was very glad that she had been invited to witness the wedding of her wonderful cousin, Jamie Calverton, Lord Melvedere, to his beautiful bride, Cecily. It was the highlight of her rather dull six and twenty years, and she wouldn’t have missed it for the world. She had been thoroughly excited to receive the card announcing the forthcoming marriage of Jamie and Cecily, and had happily set about making plans for her stay at Melvedere with her step-aunt, Tabatha, with a relentless enthusiasm that had not diminished throughout the long, arduous journey it had taken to get there. Now that she was actually sitting in the church, watching the lovely couple finally exchange vows, the occasion was as wonderful as she had hoped it would be. She didn’t mind admitting that the joy of the occasion had left her as misty eyed as the rest of the females in the congregation.

  The small church on the Melvedere Manor estate was so tiny that everyone struggled to fit in, but nobody minded in the least. Most of the staff from the Manor had to stand outside with the villagers in order to catch sight of the new bride and groom, but that didn’t matter to them. The sun was out, the birds chirped merrily in the trees and although it was rather cold, the excitement and enthusiasm of the assembled gathering was infectious. The church positively hummed with joyful anticipation and Florrie was caught up in the excitement that shimmered in the air.

  Although she was thoroughly delighted for Jamie, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of bittersweet loss for something that she knew would never happen to her. Oh, it wasn’t as if she was ugly or unfashionable in any way, it was just that circumstances had transpired against her and deprived her of a formal coming out. The men she had met over the course of her six and twenty years had been a long way away from being her ideal suitors, and those who had approached her in order to make a better acquaintance had been weak or vapid, and had swiftly received their marching orders.

  Florrie wasn’t altogether sad not to have to turn her future over to the hands of a man, indeed she really was rather grateful for it, but a part of her ached for the loss of the few good things marriage could bring a woman. Like children. She smiled gently at the chubby face that appeared over his mother’s shoulder in front of her. Her fingers itched to touch the small, chunky fingers that were rammed into the slobbery mouth. Above the gummy grin that was being carelessly aimed at her, Florrie met the adorable gaze of Benjamin, Francesca and Simon’s baby. Florrie smiled, wrinkled her nose up, pulled a face at the young tot, and was awarded by a low gurgle accompanied by two chubby, out-stretched arms.

  Aware that she was drawing the amused gazes of various people sitting around her, Florrie sank slightly lower in her seat and stared down at her hymn book. She ignored the sharp elbow in the ribs she received from Tabatha for drawing attention to herself, and nudged her back rebelliously. Not even her waspish step-aunt was going to dampen her enjoyment of the only outing Florrie had been on for several years.

  She smiled at Ben, who continued to gurgle at her, only to jump in alarm and gasp as her hymn book slid off the smooth material of her skirts and landed on the stone floor with a dull thud. Heat immediately flooded her cheeks and she glared at Tabatha’s impatient sigh. She bent down to pick it up only for her fingers to brush against those of the man who was sitting beside her. Their heads brushed. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Had he really breathed in?

  He probably thought she was a complete clumsy thumbs, she thought bleakly and glanced at him. The warmth of his fingers against hers as he handed her the book sent a tremor of awareness up her arm that was faintly alarming. Her eyes flew to his. Their gazes met and held. The entire congregation and even the dull vicar’s droning voice seemed to fade into the distance.

  A cough from behind them snapped her out of her daze and she turned her attention to her hymn book as the congregation stood. She used the rustling of clothing, uncomfortable coughing and shuffling to edge slightly closer to the man.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, when Tabatha nudged her again.

  “You are most welcome,” the deep husky rumble replied.

  Florrie shivered and felt his presence beside her more acutely than ever. Who was he? Was he Star Elite? He was certainly big enough. He towered over her and had the most commanding presence about him that made her immediately want to step back at the same time that she wanted to remain where she was and find out more about him. Just having someone so tall and solid beside her made her feel almost protected, but then she mentally chastised herself for being ridiculous and allowing her imagination to run riot. She knew nothing about him.

  Florrie scowled down at her hymn book and shot her aunt a dirty look when Tabatha nudged her again because she wasn’t singing. Dutifully doing as she was told, she began to sing. Although her lips moved, she had no idea what the hymn was. Her entire focus of attention was firmly locked upon the man beside her throughout the entire hymn until everyone sat back down. She took the opportunity to put a little more distance between her and the man. Giving herself a mental shake, Florrie forced her attention back to the bride and groom when Jamie began to speak, and listened with only half an ear while he exchanged vows with Cecily.

  Pie tried hard not to squirm against the discomfort in his legs. His knees were pressed into the back of the pew in front which, for the first half an hour had been fine but, as time had progressed, a sharp stabbing pain had left his knees and climbed into his thighs. The only thing that eased his discomfort was the knowledge that everyone else seemed to be equally as uncomfortable. He smirked as S
imon smothered a yawn and shared a look with his wife, Francesca, and blithely ignored the wide yawn the lady beside him tried to hide. However he grinned openly at the sight of Rupert fighting to stay awake.

  The happiness within the church was infectious and Pie wondered just how much of that was due to the fact that nearly all of the Star Elite were together at last. It was extremely rare for so many of them to be in the same place at the same time, especially with their wives and children but, as an important part of their operation against spy smuggling had recently been drawn to a conclusion, it seemed an ideal time for the men to catch their breaths before they set out to engage in the next round of their mission: to round up the spies who were already in the country.

  So far they had discovered where the spies were getting into England. They had located the chain of people who had been providing the spies with false documents, and had recently captured the man responsible for ensuring the French got access to the English money they would need to create their false lifestyles. For the Star Elite, all was going well for once, and they had all carried out their roles in the mission relatively unscathed. Everyone was now looking forward to being able to spend time making acquaintances with the new wives, and children, and being able to simply enjoy life for a change.

  Pie’s attention immediately snapped back to the woman beside him as she too began to shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench. He tried not to glance at her again, he really did, but the urge was so strong that he couldn’t ignore it. She wriggled around on the pew, trying to find a comfortable spot and accidentally nudged his leg with hers.

  “Sorry,” she whispered in a voice that was barely there.

  Pie smiled but knew she couldn’t see him because she was still facing forward. He turned his head a little to watch baby Ben but, at the same time, took the opportunity to study the woman beside him out of the corner of his eye.

  His attention had been captured by her as soon as she had appeared on the lane leading to the church. Like most of the congregation, she and her aunt Tabatha had chosen to walk the short distance to the church from Crompton, the old dowager’s house on the edge of the Melvedere estate. His attention had been caught firstly by the fact that she was a stranger but, as she had drawn closer, he had been intrigued by the copper streaks running through her auburn hair. With her warm, chocolate brown eyes she had an almost exotic look that was so beguiling he immediately wanted to know all about her. Although she was taller than most women and not so delicately boned, there was something mesmerising about her, as though she had some sort of secret from the world that held her apart from everyone else. It marked her as being different; special almost, although he couldn’t understand why.

  She had smiled when he had taken a seat beside her, but had made no attempt to converse with him while they had waited for the service to start. He, in turn, had struggled to find something to say that wouldn’t leave either of them feeling awkward. The silence had given him the time he wanted to be able to study her a little closer. There was an air of quiet reserve around her that warred with a rebellious side she carefully kept hidden. He had felt rather than seen the sharp nudge she had given her aunt, and had caught the funny face she had pulled at Ben. There was clearly a playful side to her too, which was in contrast to the rather severe way in which her wayward hair had been pulled back from her face in an attempt to give her an almost matronly look. She had clearly tried to diminish her beauty but it hadn’t worked, and he couldn’t understand why someone would want to commit such a travesty.

  Then she had dropped her hymn book. The sight of those wonderful chocolate brown eyes up close had immediately held him mesmerised. The faint scent of honeysuckle had teased his nostrils and reminded him of springtime, sunshine, fun and laughter. A bolt of awareness flew through him with devastating force that shook him to his foundations. He had never had this kind of connection with any woman before. Why her? What was it about her that he found so engaging?

  Pie made a mental note to ask a few questions about her and reluctantly forced his attention back to the service as Jamie and Cecily, along with the witnesses, Archie and Portia, all walked into the small ante room to sign the register. Pie heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he had anything against churches per se, but he knew that he had sinned more than most and half expected to be struck by lightning while he was in there. He heaved a mental sight of relief at being able to stretch his legs properly at long last and shared a rueful look with Rupert. Once in the aisle he stood back to allow the women to leave the pew and move before him. He took the opportunity to study the woman again more closely.

  Her hair was pulled severely back from her face, almost painfully so. But, rather than reduce her beauty and make her look severe, something she had quite clearly intended, the look only accentuated her high cheekbones and rather soulful brown eyes. Her rosy complexion was matched with rather full lips that were, at that moment, tightly pressed, as though she was annoyed or sad about something.

  “Another one down,” Simon muttered from beside him as they stood outside to await the arrival of the bride and groom.

  “Simon,” Francesca warned him with a rueful shake of her head. “Pie, how are you?” Rather than bothering with introductions, Pie swept Francesca into his arms and gave her a huge hug, grinning unrepentantly at Simon when he sighed deeply and shot him a mock warning glare.

  “I am absolutely fine, thank you. I can see this rogue has made sure your days don’t get boring.” He shook his head and backed away when Simon tried to hand Ben over. Pie threw Francesca a horrified glance. “I do the playtime bit.” He didn’t think it polite to add that there was a rather strange odour coming from the young tot and watched as Simon handed the baby over to the nanny who was waiting patiently to take her charge.

  “I wasn’t sure if you would get here,” Portia said giving Pie a poke in the back. She gasped at the speed in which he spun around and gave her a hug.

  “She threatened me,” he announced to Archie, who merely grinned unrepentantly. “She said that if I didn’t come, she would rip out my eyebrows.”

  “I didn’t think you would be cowed by a woman,” Archie replied. He held his arm out to Portia and drew himself upright with pride as she moved to stand beside him. Although he was glad the service was now over, he couldn’t wait for his own turn at the altar with his bride. Two weeks suddenly seemed such a long time to wait. He briefly contemplated whether they could move the nuptials forward but then immediately dismissed it. Portia would have his hide if her carefully made plans were disrupted in any way.

  “I am not usually,” Pie argued. “But I have seen this woman wielding a stick. She is not to be messed with.” Pie shared a conspiratorial look with Portia, before his gaze was captured by the intriguing woman in the church standing a few feet behind. She was waiting for her aunt to finish talking with the vicar and was standing to one side, smiling at the villagers.

  “Who is that?” Pie whispered, sidling closer to Archie. He studied the aunt carefully. Although she was a rather dapper looking woman, there was a hard edge to her that made Pie wonder if she was actually a little cruel to her niece, but then Pie remembered the nudge she had given her aunt back and immediately dismissed the notion.

  “That is Jamie’s cousin, Florrie, and her step-aunt Tabatha. They arrived from Oxfordshire yesterday,” Archie murmured, watching Pie study the taller woman carefully. He shared a knowing look with Portia before turning back to his friend.

  “Florrie?” Pie lifted his brows. It was a strange name to call a child.

  “Yes, after the floribunda rose,” Portia reported, glancing at the woman who had captured Pie’s interest. “Her late father was a keen gardener by all accounts and named her, his only child, after his favourite flower.”

  “The woman with her is her step-aunt?” Pie wanted it confirming. He had no idea why he seemed to have an insatiable thirst to know everything about her.

  “Yes, Tabatha was step-sister to Flo
rrie’s father. Tabatha and her husband took Florrie in when her parents died from scarlet fever.”

  Pie desperately wanted to know if she had a husband somewhere but bit back the question. It really was none of his business. He had no intention of deepening any acquaintance with her. He was driven by mild curiosity and nothing more. Wasn’t he?

  He caught Archie’s gaze and frowned at his colleague’s bland look.

  “Don’t worry, the less you fight it the easier your path will be,” Archie reported wisely.

  “The easier what path will be?” Pie frowned as Archie merely smiled and walked away. Shaking his head at the strangeness of some people, Pie turned around and found himself face to face with the woman he had decided he ought to try to forget.

  He was on the verge of speaking when Portia moved to stand at his elbow.

  “I don’t believe you had the opportunity to meet last night, with Pie arriving so late and all,” Portia declared, shooting Pie a chiding look. He looked slightly abashed but his attention was locked firmly on the woman before him. He tried not to stare.

  “Pie, this is Jamie’s cousin, Florabunda Seabrook.”

  “Florrie,” Florabunda corrected. “I hate the name Florabunda, it makes me feel like I should have greenfly or something.”

  Pie smiled and jumped when Portia gave him a nudge. He had been so captivated by the warm chocolate coloured eyes that sparkled when she smiled that he had forgotten his manners. In all of his life he had never been tongue-tied around a woman. What was it about Florrie that had ensnared him so easily?

  Pie bowed, his gaze locked on Florrie’s.

  “This is Pie, he is one of the Star Elite,” Portia sighed. She carefully studied Pie, not sure what to make of his strange behaviour. She turned quizzical eyes on Archie who, having sensed Portia’s confusion returned to stand beside them again.

 

‹ Prev