by Rebecca King
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he assured her softly.
Florrie smiled sadly. “You don’t know that. Although the man last night said that I wasn’t to be hurt, we can’t lose sight of the fact that I was run over and could very easily have been killed.”
Hugo couldn’t argue.
“As a result, we don’t know if Dexter plans to do the job himself, especially since you have removed the man he employed to do the job for him.” Hugo froze and turned hard eyes on her.
“You are in the house with highly trained professionals. If you had been alone, you would almost certainly be dead by now. The fact that you are alive is because you are here,” Hugo declared firmly and with a hint of pride in his voice. Inside, a small voice doggedly reminded him that she was right, she had come far too close. An inch to the left of the carriage wheel and it would have been an entirely different story for her, and there was nothing the Star Elite could have done about it.
“If Dexter does try to take my life himself, and something does happen to me, I should like you to contact Silas. He is my closest living relative after Jamie.”
“I will do,” Hugo replied hesitantly, sensing that there was something she wasn’t saying.
Florrie knew he didn’t understand why she was doing this now and felt driven to make him understand. She sighed and stared at the carpet. “On my last visit to Norfolk, Silas told me that I had been left my parent’s estate. When they died, the house and contents had been sold and the money banked. Silas had looked after the money and paid Archibald a small stipend to cover the cost of my keep. Even though there have been regular payments taken from the account, there is still a considerable sum of money left to me. Silas suggested that because I had no inclination to marry, and at six and twenty I was considered more than old enough to handle my own finances and, as such, I should consider myself old enough to set out on my own. He suggested that I purchase a house in the village where he lived in Corringham Marshes. While I was there I took a look at the property and fell in love with it. Over the past few months, Silas and the solicitor have purchased the house for me and ensured that the necessary repairs are carried out to make the house habitable. My uncle has furnished the place with his own craftwork,” she smiled at Hugo’s impressed look. “Tabatha must never know of the fortune, or the house. If she did -”
Hugo understood in that instant what she was telling him. If Tabatha had run up debts in Florrie’s name then she would do whatever she needed to do to get a hold of Florrie’s wealth, and house, especially if her own home was at risk to the creditors baying for repayment.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you,” Florrie sighed. “I don’t plan to go back to Tabatha’s house other than to pack my belongings. As soon as I leave here, I shall be heading to Norfolk to begin my new life.”
It was on the tip of Hugo’s tongue to ask her what Pie thought of her plans but he wisely remained quiet. Whatever had happened between those two, or was going to happen in the future, was really nothing to do with the Star Elite, or Hugo.
“I am afraid that I have pre-empted you a little,” Hugo sighed and looked slightly apologetic at her. “I have arranged for your belongings to be brought here. They should be here in the next day or two. Once Billy and Jamie have dropped Tabatha off at the debtors’ prison, they are going around to the house in Oxfordshire. Jamie plans to pay the maid off once she has packed all of your belongings. He is then going to bring them back here.” He didn’t add that Jamie was also going to scour the house for any evidence of Tabatha’s debts.
“Tabatha isn’t likely to be let out, is she?” She sighed, feeling little sympathy for her aunt.
“With the debts she has run up and can’t repay? No, she isn’t. I need to establish who is prepared to declare the debt legally so we can make the matter official. I am also working on ensuring your name is removed from any association with her.”
Florrie threw him a grateful look to which he smiled in reply. “It’s the least we can do given that you have been run over and shot at all because of us.”
Florrie smiled and rolled her eyes ruefully.
He had no idea how much Tabatha knew about the sinister attempts on Florrie’s life, but had seen the relief that had swept over the selfish woman’s face when Hugo had offered her a way out of her current predicament. He had no qualms in the false assurances he had given her. As soon as they had all of the facts, he was going to ensure that she met the long arm of the law in the strongest possible terms. He had yet to find out how large her house was, but he knew from the size of the debt that, unless it was the same size as Melvedere Manor then she had absolutely no ability to clear her debts. She would be unlikely to leave the debtors’ prison for the rest of her life.
“Right now, I need you to remain here until we deal with Dexter, and your things arrive. Hopefully we should be able to sort out both in the next couple of days and then you will be free to go on your way.” He seriously doubted that Pie would allow it to happen but, without having had the opportunity to discuss things with Pie, couldn’t say anything to anyone.
However, he was a man, and had seen the almost predatory way that Pie had studied her at breakfast. Something was brewing and, if Pie hadn’t already acted upon it, he would do so soon. It was either that, or the man was a fool.
Hugo pushed to his feet. “I think you need to reconsider going this morning but, if you really do insist on being included then we need to be heading out. Some of the others are already in position, but we have one angry man outside who will be pounding on the door if we don’t appear soon.” He glanced out of the window and caught sight of Pie stomping backward and forward outside of the front door. The dark scowl on his face didn’t bode well for a peaceful morning, even if they ignored the threat of Dexter waiting at the tavern.
Florrie nodded, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
“Does Pie know about the house and everything?” He asked as they crossed the room.
Florrie shook her head and frowned in confusion. “He does know about the money, but won’t want to know about the house, so I haven’t told him about it.”
Hugo wisely remained silent. He seriously doubted that was the case but was a wise man, and knew when to keep his mouth shut.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The tavern was loud, smelly and filled with a hazy smoke that was threatening to choke her. It had certainly stripped all feeling from her mouth except for the vague burning in the back of her throat. She wondered what on earth made people want to come to a place like this and drink the fetid brew that sat threateningly on the table before her. She glared askance at it and turned a scowl on Pie’s amusement.
“I am not drinking any more of that.” She wrinkled her nose up and pushed it toward him.
Pie was struggling not to burst out laughing. Although she was the last person he would consider remotely snobbish, she was all but curling her nose up in disgust. She had been struggling to hide her revulsion and shock since she had walked through the door and taken a sniff of the air, and that was before she had tasted the amber muck in the jug that was placed before her. This morning wasn’t going to turn out that badly after all. She was perched precariously on the edge of the wooden bench she shared with him and kept coughing and rubbing her hands down her skirt as though she was afraid of catching something.
To Pie, it was one of many ordinary drinking establishments he had been to up and down the country. The ale was undoubtedly watered down but was still surprisingly tasty, even though Florrie hated it. Pie was deliberately unsympathetic. He still churned with disgruntled anger at the casual way she seemed to be able to dismiss what they had shared last night. His discontent was heightened by the fact that she had spent the better part of an hour talking to Hugo about something she clearly didn’t want him to know about. It annoyed the hell out of him that the lady beside him was prepared to accept him into her bed, yet still didn’t trust him.<
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Florrie glanced up. Her eyes landed on the silver haired man now standing at the bar. Her hand instinctively reached for Pie’s and she squeezed his fingers, hard. He glanced at her with a frown and followed her gaze to the man who was ordering his beer. Scenting his quarry, Pie slowly stiffened and turned his hand over until it captured hers. He didn’t exactly expect her to walk to the bar and challenge him, but he was going to keep a hold of her just in case she took it in her mind to. He glanced warningly at her and sat back in his seat, his gaze scanning over the other occupants of the room before them for any threat of danger.
They had chosen to sit at the far wall of the small tavern where they had a clear view of the front door and the bar area. Pie hadn’t noticed the man enter through the front door so he must have come from his rooms; the door to which sat on the opposite side of the bar, right next to Hugo.
Tossing a coin down on the bar, the man picked up his ale and turned toward them. He froze, his gaze locked on Florrie.
Florrie sat nervously waiting to see what he would do. He wasn’t glaring as ferociously as he had been in the churchyard, but was that because Pie was sitting beside her? She didn’t know but, with something akin to dread, she watched Hugo move to stand behind the man and whisper something in his ear. Dexter jumped and stared at Hugo for a moment before he turned and made his way to sit on one of the stools opposite Pie and Florrie.
Pie lifted his hand off the table and took Florrie’s with it. He placed their clasped hands on his knee. He didn’t look at her but knew she had started to tremble and wondered whether he should just escort her outside and be done with it. He took a brief moment to glance at her but her gaze was locked firmly upon the new arrival. She didn’t look scared, merely blank. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Florrie,” Dexter said, placing his ale all too carefully on the small round table.
“How do you know my name?” Florrie asked in a voice that was firm and steady. It wasn’t an accusation, just a query. Pie was proud of her.
“From your aunt, Tabatha.”
Florrie frowned and studied the man carefully. She was sure she had seen him at Tabatha’s house a time or two, but that had been some months ago.
“I don’t owe you money,” she announced flatly. She refused to take her eyes off him, not least because this had been the man who had ordered, and paid, a gunman to scare her.
“I know. Tabatha does.”
“So why do you want to scare Florrie?”
Dexter merely smiled secretively and stared at Pie for a moment. He took a long draught of his ale and placed the mug back down on the table, carefully repositioning it directly over the wet circle that was already marring the battered table top.
“I am afraid that Tabatha is trouble, Florrie, and you would do best to get away from her.”
Pie squeezed her fingers tight, warning Florrie about something but she ignored him. She tried to remove her hand from his but his unrelenting grip held her steady.
“I know that she owes a lot of people money and has run up debts in my name. How much does she owe you?”
Dexter named a sum that made Pie’s brows shoot up in shock.
“In her name, or mine?”
“Hers with me; yours at other houses.”
“Good Lord,” Pie growled and stared suspiciously at Dexter. “Why would you allow anyone to run up debts that large? Surely you must have known she wouldn’t be able to pay you back?”
Dexter looked at Florrie cautiously, as though assessing her for a moment before apparently coming to a decision.
“You need to get out of her house Florrie, the problem is far bigger than you realise.”
“How so?” Florrie asked feeling a sense of alarm wash over her. Was he trying to frighten her again? If so, he was doing a good job of it. She suddenly began to consider the wisdom of insisting that she come along. She should have stayed at Crompton.
“Tabatha isn’t just gambling, she is up to all sorts of things,” Dexter sighed, taking another long draught of his ale. This time he slapped the mug on the table. His gaze was cold and hard. “When I met her she was a nice lady; well sort of.” Dexter’s lips twisted cruelly. “Then she got the gambling bug and began to change. She lost a few times and seemed to go off the rails. She joined in with sinister goings on, I can tell you. Our association came to an end.” He broke off when Hugo held a hand up.
“What sort of sinister goings on?”
Dexter paused for a moment and threw Florrie an apologetic look. “Debauchery, gambling and drug taking.” He ignored the raised eyebrows and sighed. “She was hanging around with the worst kind of parasites and they are the nabobs who consider themselves better than everyone else. There wasn’t a drug they wouldn’t try, any orgy they wouldn’t go to and nothing they wouldn’t bet each other.” His eyes landed on Florrie and he cast Pie and Hugo a warning look. “Tabatha and I were lovers for a while, but that ended when I caught her paying off part of her debts on her back. After that, although we weren’t together, she kept coming to my gaming house. Unfortunately, one evening a couple of months ago Tabatha was at the house playing poker. I wasn’t playing, just passing through to check on things, but I caught part of her conversation at one of the tables. They were discussing Florrie. Tabatha was trying to put her niece up as stake money.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Pie whispered. The anger he saw in Hugo’s stunned look matched his own.
“What?” Florrie gasped, struggling to absorb the import of what Dexter was saying.
“She was trying to gamble using you as stake money. So instead of putting another note into the pot, she put your name.”
“The winner of the game would get you.”
Florrie gasped and stared in horror at Dexter. She wasn’t aware of just how hard she was holding Pie’s hands. She felt sick. She was horrified.
“Did she?” She croaked, glancing in horror around the tavern.
Dexter shook his head. “I called the game to a halt and made them all go home. It caused a right rumpus, I can tell you, but I draw the line at them stooping so low as to gamble on a person’s life.”
“Thank God for that,” Hugo growled.
“You must leave Tabatha’s house, Florrie. Tabatha is in so much trouble and people; people who walk on the seedier side of life, want what they are owed and will get her to pay with menaces.”
“So why try to frighten Florrie? Were you trying to send a warning to Tabatha as well?” Pie demanded with a frown.
“I want Florrie to understand what danger she is in. What I did was nothing compared to what some of Tabatha’s creditors would do. She has been gambling everywhere. When her credit ran out, and her debts mounted to the point where nobody would play with her, she moved on to the next table in the next gaming house. Some of the people I know would not hesitate in using Florrie as collateral to get what they are owed.”
Hugo sighed and stared down at his ale. He made a note to write to the debtors’ prison at the earliest opportunity and order them to throw away the key. The woman was the devil incarnate.
Florrie was horrified at the sharp sting of her aunt’s latest deceit. She had been prepared to try to help her aunt out of her troubles, and had spent many hours trying to reason with the woman while all the time, she had been used to furnish Tabatha with further credit and provide her with gambling stakes. Florrie felt sick, but was mightily relieved that she had been invited to Jamie and Cecily’s wedding, and the Star Elite were in attendance to help sort everything out. She realised then just how naive she had been in thinking that she could help her aunt. It had, after all, taken the might of the Star Elite to bring the woman down.
“Your warning got a bit too close with the carriage,” Pie announced, giving Dexter a dark stare.
“It wasn’t me,” Dexter announced, pushing his beer away with a scowl. “What carriage?” Pie and Hugo shared a look at Dexter’s blank stare.
“Someone tried to run Florrie over a few days go,�
� Hugo announced.
“I wanted to scare her, not kill her,” Dexter snapped, studying Florrie carefully. “Whoever was driving the carriage it wasn’t me, or anyone I was paying.” He suddenly lurched forward in his seat. “Tabatha is one of the most dangerous gamblers I have seen. She is reckless and stupid with it and has been fleeced out of hundreds because of her sheer arrogance alone. She will drag you down with her if you remain in her house.”
“Florrie won’t be returning to Tabatha’s house. That has already been agreed upon,” Hugo declared flatly. He ignored Pie’s studying look. If Florrie wanted him to know where she was going then she had to be the one to tell him. Hugo glanced at Dexter.
“Are you prepared to declare the debts legally so that I can ensure Tabatha remains in debtors’ prison?”
“Is that where she is?” Dexter stared at Hugo with impressed eyes. A satisfied gleam lit his eye. “Yes, I am,” he declared flatly. “I can also give you the names of the owners of at least three other houses to whom she owes money. They have nothing to hide on this and will most probably welcome the opportunity to ensure that Tabatha remains in prison. I take it the house in Oxfordshire is hers?”
Hugo nodded. “If you can provide the evidence of her debts, I can ensure that her property is sold and whatever is raised will be split between her creditors who officially register her debts with us.”
“Fair enough,” Dexter said, nodding at Florrie with a rueful smile of relief. “I will speak to the others. Give me your direction and I shall ensure it is dealt with as a matter of urgency.”
While the men were discussing the debts and creditors, Pie thought about Hugo’s announcement that Florrie wouldn’t be returning to Tabatha’s house. Did that mean she would be remaining at Crompton under Jamie’s care? He frowned. Where would someone like Florrie go? He realised then that there was so much he had yet to discover about the woman beside him, and made a mental note to ask her about it when they were alone later.