by Rebecca King
“I’m not married though, ah ha!” Florrie declared triumphantly and lifted one finger into the air. She turned at stared at it for a moment before she dropped her hand back to her side. Where had her glass gone?
“Yet,” Pie sighed ruefully. When Florrie turned toward him, her mouth open to say something, he pre-empted the protest he knew was coming and steered her toward the door.
“I’m not getting married,” Florrie declared firmly. She ruined her declaration with a hiccup. “Ever.”
“That’s what I said, then he came along and poof,” Harriett made large circular motions with her arms and threw her glass into the fire. She stared at her empty hand in consternation for a moment before she turned to her husband. “What did you do with it? Where’s it gone?”
Florrie giggled and watched as Harriett tried to pour another glass of wine. After several unsuccessful attempts during which Hugo had a poke in the stomach for interfering, Florrie bravely wrenched her arm out of Pie’s grip and stepped forward.
“Here, let me help.” She carefully placed the glass on the table and held it steady for Harriett while she poured the wine. Even with two of them it was a tricky venture, and more wine went onto the table than in the glass but, eventually, they managed to get it half full.
“There,” she declared in satisfaction and turned to pick up her glass onto to find it gone. She glanced around but there was no trace of it. She glared accusingly at Pie. “What did you do with it?”
“I didn’t see anything,” he replied absently. He nudged the glass further under the chair out of sight and nodded to the door. “I think it is time for bed.”
“I don’t,” Florrie snapped, turning back to the table and reaching for another glass.
“Here, here,” Harriett toasted again, and wobbled a bit when Francesca came to stand beside her.
Francesca glared at her husband. “Take a word of advice from me too?” she whispered to Florrie. “Don’t trust the Star Elite as far as you can throw them. They are dodgier than the people they arrest.”
“How do you make that one out?” Simon demanded, glaring askance at his wife. “I married you didn’t I?”
“Ha! Eventually,” she scowled at him. “The churl wouldn’t have returned then if he hadn’t found himself at a loss to find something to do.”
Simon stared in horror at his wife and couldn’t quite decide if she was angry with him or playfully warning Florrie about Pie’s intentions. “Francesca Ambrose, you should be ashamed.”
Francesca merely sniffed at him and gave Florrie a wink.
Florrie bit her lip. She had never stopped to think that there might be a more playful side to any of the Star Elite. Now they were relaxed, chatting and teasing their wives while being teased in return, they were completely different; far more affable and approachable. The fact that they were all including her in their teasing made her feel like she was one of them and it was a strangely surreal experience.
“Give the man a break, Francesca, we did have French spies to hunt,” Hugo declared, trying to ease the bottle of wine out of his wife’s fingers.
“You are not having this too,” Harriett snapped and yanked the bottle away. This time she kept a firm hold of it and nodded to Cecily, Portia, Francesca and Florrie. “Let’s go and sit out of the way of these bossy boots, and then we can enjoy ourselves.”
As it was, the ladies moved to one end of the room - with the wine, while the men stayed near the door and settled down to watch and wait.
Florrie tried to ignore Pie, but she could feel him staring at her. She turned to help Francesca upright because it was apparent that she was struggling with a chair that wouldn’t stay still, but couldn’t resist another quick peek across the room at him. He was talking to Simon and both men were looking at her and Francesca.
“I don’t like this,” Hugo growled.
“We have got to split them up,” Simon sighed, rubbing a particularly bruised part of his ribs that were a result of his wife’s dexterity with her elbow.
“But how? Do you want to go over there?” Pie scoffed and glanced at Jonathan who held his hands up in horror and backed away.
“This is your problem. They are your wives and this is not Star Elite business. I am going to find myself a drink and my bed. You do what you need to,” he muttered, flicking a dark look at the ladies across the room. “Good luck.”
“Coward,” Pie called.
“Yes, I am, but better a live coward than a dead hero.” Jonathan slammed the door behind him and disappeared upstairs with a shudder.
“Who is going first?” Hugo muttered, not relishing the prospect of having to prise his wife away from the wine bottle. If he was honest, he had never ever seen his wife relax and enjoy herself like this. It was hysterical to see this slightly absent, more than a little domineering, entirely funny side of her come out. Although he wasn’t going to sanction her turning into an old soak, he was glad that she felt that she could let go and enjoy the occasion. He was thrilled that she had made firm friends with Francesca, Cecily, Portia and Florrie, because it went a long way to securing the future of the Star Elite. They were now friends and he wanted to keep it that way.
The sight of Francesca being shoved back onto her seat by Florrie, who was struggling to focus on her glass made him struggle to bite back a laugh.
“My wife will never forgive me if I break up their cosy chat,” Archie sighed. It felt wonderful to be able to call her ‘my wife’ and he grinned over at Portia, giving her a cheeky wink when she looked at him. He laughed outright when she winked back at him.
“So what do we do, stand over here and wait until they pass out?” Pie sighed, wondering how deep into her cups Florrie was.
“We could carry them all out in one go,” Simon muttered, trying to think of a good way to get his wife up to bed so that she was still speaking to him in the morning.
“Jesus,” Pie snapped in disgust. “We fight smugglers, murderers, despots and French spies and here we are struggling with a handful of females.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Hugo drawled, hiding a smirk. “But those smugglers, murderers, despots and French spies aren’t our wives, and won’t refuse to give us our conjugal rights for the next three weeks.”
“Three?” Simon looked at his wife with renewed determination.
Pie started to laugh and felt smug all at once. He knew that whatever happened, no matter how angry she was with him, Florrie would never attempt to keep him out of the marriage bed.
Hang on a minute, old chap, you aren’t even married yet. Pie paused and scowled across the room as the realisation dawned that he was standing there talking to the others as though Florrie was his wife, even though they hadn’t exchanged vows. It had felt so right, so natural, to consider himself one of the husbands that he hadn’t stopped to consider that Florrie wasn’t actually his wife and none of the others had corrected his presumption.
“What’s put that scowl on your face?” Archie gave Pie a nudge.
“The thought of three weeks without conjugal rights probably,” Simon replied morosely wondering if Francesca would make him sleep on the floor.
“Florrie isn’t my wife yet,” Pie muttered, shaking his head.
“Yet,” Hugo replied. “I think your plan has been going a little too well, Pie, and if this impacts on me with Harriett, I may just need to come and find you to seek a little retribution. You owe me,” he muttered darkly.
Pie smirked, not bothered in the least that the others were going to be troubled by their wives. He knew that everyone wanted to see him and Florrie marry, that was what tonight had been all about after all. If a third wedding was to come about before the Star Elite went their separate ways, then the women would be appeased and life could return to normal.
He closed out the small voice that asked him what he would do if he couldn’t persuade Florrie to take a chance on him.
Draining his glass, Pie slapped it down onto the table beside him and moved across the ro
om. He ignored Simon’s warning and Hugo’s guffaw. His eyes were locked firmly on Florrie as he approached.
“Oh ho, trouble is heading this way,” Harriett sighed, staring hard at Pie as he approached.
“It’s time to go to bed,” Pie said gently. He dropped onto his haunches beside Florrie’s chair and stared down at her glass.
He really was rather handsome, Florrie mused, smiling at him with open adoration.
“She is with us,” Francesca snapped, glaring at her husband. She liked her new friends and wanted the night to continue for a little while longer. It was nice to relax and be in the company of ladies with whom she had a lot in common for a change and nothing, and nobody, was going to spoil it.
“Go away and leave us to decide when we want to go to bed,” Harriett snapped, glaring at Pie indignantly.
“I am just saying that it is getting late and we have a lot to organise tomorrow.” Although he was talking to Harriett, his gaze was firmly locked on Florrie.
“Do we?” Florrie suddenly felt the enjoyment drain away. It was replaced with a sadness that she couldn’t hide. “Of course, I have to make arrangements to leave.” She didn’t know what hurt the most, the fact that he couldn’t wait to get rid of her, or the fact that he clearly didn’t want her to make new friends with his colleagues’ wives.
“Look, you have made her sad now,” Harriett sighed, giving him a none too gentle nudge. “Go away and leave her in peace.”
“No, not making arrangements to leave,” Pie sighed, ignoring Harriett’s insistent prodding. He captured her hand and placed it securely in her lap with a warning look. She seemed to take the hint and shut up, but he could feel her hard gaze on the side of his face.
With the end of one long finger, he tipped Florrie’s head toward him until she met his gaze. He could see tears shimmering on her lashes. It made him suddenly wish that he had kept his mouth shut but he could see no better opportunity than the one that was before him now.
Rising to his feet he held a hand out. “I want a word with you, darling,” Pie drawled.
Florrie stared at his hand for a few moments as though debating the wisdom of going with someone who didn’t want her to be around. Harriett and the others lapsed into silence, having finally realised that something was about to happen.
“I will bring you back when we are done, I promise,” he urged when she made no move to take his hand.
Florrie took a breath, carefully placed her wine goblet on the table beside her and took his hand. She didn’t know what he wanted, probably to know what her plans were for leaving the house, but she wanted to have just a few moments alone with him. After all, it would be the very last time that they would be together. Tomorrow, come hell or high water, she was going to head out to her new life in Norfolk, even though she was going to be leaving a very large part of her heart behind. She loved him and really could deny him nothing.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
She caught Simon’s wink as she passed and smiled hesitantly at him as she followed Pie out of the sitting room and into the room next door. It was cold and dark inside the unlit morning room, but that didn’t matter. Pie walked through the shadowed room with a cat-like grace while Florrie stumbled along behind him trying to pick out the different items of furniture scattered around so she didn’t fall flat on her face.
She was quite breathless by the time they drew to a halt next to one of the front windows overlooking the lawns and the small Norman church. She glanced around them and wondered if she should offer to light some candles.
“Is everything alright? It is rather dark in here,” she glanced around her again, a dark frown on her face.
“Has what happened to you given you a fear of the darkness?” Pie asked, reaching out with one hand to urge her closer. He sensed her initial hesitation, but she eventually gave in and shortened the distance between them. He took the opportunity to prevent her escape by wrapping both arms around her waist. Once she was flush against him he savoured the feel of her against him for a moment and placed a kiss on her brow.
“I am sorry for the others,” he whispered softly. He eased back to stare down into her face. “They aren’t really a load of drunkards. I think that because of the stresses of the past few weeks, the opportunity to celebrate has rather gone to their heads.”
“I like them. They are a lovely group of people. You are very lucky to be able to consider them as friends,” Florrie declared softly. She couldn’t understand why he seemed to want to hold her, especially when he had tried to get rid of her only a few nights ago. She was confused and, thanks to the amount of alcohol she had consumed, was determined to get to the bottom of his strange behaviour.
“I am very lucky indeed.”
“So tell me something,” Florrie said, easing out of his arms with more reluctance than she cared to admit. “What is this all about?” She waved her arms around the room but encompassed them in her circle, and tried to ignore the fact that she had to grab on to the back of the nearest chair to stop the room whirling.
“This is about you and me, Florrie,” Pie warned, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.
“There is no you and me,” she sighed, feeling the threat of tears.
“There is and you know it.”
“You don’t want me.” She was horrified at the quiver in her voice and fought to quell the tears that choked her words.
“Of course I bloody want you, why the hell do you think that I have been desperately trying to keep you safe from harm over the past several weeks? Why the hell do you think I allowed you to seduce me?”
Florrie gasped, and felt her cheeks flame. She opened her mouth to argue but, much to her shame and consternation, found that she couldn’t protest. She had seduced him.
“I am sorry, I should not have done.”
“Yes, you bloody should,” Pie argued. He sucked in a deep breath and fought to keep hold of his patience. “It was inevitable really. I was intrigued from the first moment I sat next to you in the church and saw you pulling funny faces at Ben, and elbowing Tabatha back. You ensnared me even then.”
“Ensnared you?” Florrie’s eyes grew wide. She had never ensnared anyone in her entire life and was fairly certain that she didn’t know how. She gazed at him with a mixture of shock and consternation.
“Yes, damn it,” Pie growled. He couldn’t keep his hands off her and grabbed her shoulders in a gentle hold. He dipped his head until she looked at him. “I now demand that you do something about it.”
“D-do something?” Florrie glanced around them nervously. What was he talking about? Her slightly alcohol soaked brain wouldn’t co-operate and allow her to think logically. Surely he didn’t expect her to attempt to seduce him again, here and now, in the morning room, did he?
“Marry me, Florrie.”
The words dropped between them. Florrie stared at him and tried to absorb what he had just asked. Had she really heard them? Had Pie really proposed to her?
She thought of her small cottage near to her Uncle Silas and felt it slide a little further out of her grasp. Was she wishing for rainbows thinking that she could turn her back on the man before her, and head off to spend the rest of her life as a lonely spinster who would always wonder what might have been?
“I-I don’t know,” Florrie sighed. She wanted to say ‘yes’. The words hovered on her lips but she just couldn’t say them.
She couldn’t ignore his commitment to the Star Elite. Although the people next door had battled their own demons and found each other along the way, they were happily married and deeply in love with each other. Did she really love Pie? Was it really possible to fall in love after only three and a bit short weeks?
She knew in her heart of hearts that it was. That this man standing so tall and proud before her was the other half of her soul and she couldn’t bring herself to simply turn around and walk away. Not after everything they had been through. She loved him, but he had yet to declare any feelings for her.
&nbs
p; “I need to think,” Florrie murmured quietly. She turned away. The wine suddenly sat a little heavier in her stomach and didn’t feel as pleasant as it had moments earlier.
“Wait, talk to me,” Pie urged, halting her by the door. “What is it that puts you off? I mean, we can still use your cottage in Norfolk, we just won’t live there all the time.” He glanced around the room ruefully. “We have a bit of work to do here now.”
“Here?” Florrie stared at him before she shifted her stunned gaze to the room.
“I bought it from Jamie.” He coughed uncomfortably. “I bought the house along with about thirty acres of land, although heaven knows what we will do with them. I have never farmed anything in my life and don’t know where to start but, with you by my side, I am sure that we are more than capable of muddling through.”
“Good Lord, you bought this house?” Florrie sighed.
“It’s a good a place as any to set up a home. It is close to your cousin so you will have Cecily to keep you company while Jamie and I are away, and vice versa. If anything happens and you need help, Jamie is just down the road. You can keep your cottage and we can use it as often as you please.”
“But you have your work with the Star Elite.”
Pie nodded slowly. He wondered if this was the reason why she was reluctant to commit to him.
“I do, and it will take me away for long stretches at a time but I now have a home to come back to. You, and whatever children we have.” He hurried on when he sensed her objection. “It will be no different to what Hugo, Harriett, Simon, Francesca, Archie, Portia, Jamie and Cecily all have together. The difference is that you are close to your cousin and Cecily.”
Her acceptance hovered on her lips and she had to struggle not to fall into his arms and give him anything he wanted. The only thing that held her back was the knowledge that he still he had yet to declare any feelings for her. Florrie sighed despondently. She couldn’t ask him outright. It didn’t seem right to put him in the awkward position of having to confirm he actually cared rather than felt any deep, abiding love.