“So what do you want to do now, Miss Emstridge?” Jamie sighed reasonably. The cool disinterest in his voice was in stark contrast to the raging emotions churning through him. Sweat popped out on his brow with the effort it took not to lash out. “You have the woman I love tied and bound to a chair so I can only assume that your quarrel is with me, not her.”
Cecily heard his words, and turned her desperate gaze toward him. The sheer weight of relief that swept through her at the sight of him, standing tall and solid before her was wonderfully reassuring. Her stomach clenched at his choice of words. Her heart squeezed painfully in his chest. She wished he meant them, she really did. If only she could get out of this situation alive, she would find out for definite if he had any feelings toward her whatsoever. If not, then she could teach him to love her, couldn’t she?
One thing was for certain, if she had any days left in her life, she wanted to spend them with him. Her eyes met and held his for several long moments. She was astonished at the reassuring wink he gave her. She was facing death, and here he was giving her a nonchalant wink as though there was nothing untoward happening. She wanted to bat his ears. Did he not realise the significance of her current situation? Her disgust began to build until she took a closer study of his eyes. She had seen that look before.
He was angry.
Very, very angry, but was putting on a front.
She tried hard not to look at the tall, dark gentleman who had quietly crept into the room and was now standing silently next to the book case.
“Ha! You have been such a fool. We have been using this house for years and you just haven’t known it. You call yourself master of the house? You are master of nothing. You are nothing. For all of your money and titles, you have no clue how to run your estate. Potter, stupid drunkard that he is, has outwitted you for years and you didn’t know it.”
“She has been waiting for you to notice her,” Cecily added quietly, turning her gaze to an astonished looking Jamie.
Jamie stared down at the woman whose life was in precarious balance. “Notice her? You mean as in -” He stared aghast at the older woman and felt his skin crawl.
“Shut up!” Miss Emstridge snarled, staring at Cecily.
Cecily knew that if Jamie hadn’t been here, she would have had another slap around the face. Instead, Miss Emstridge’s cheeks turned a mottled red as her rage built. The man beside the book case edged closer.
Jamie physically trembled with suppressed fury. “You couldn’t even begin to compete,” he sighed as though bored. “Look at her!” he waved a hand toward Cecily. “Even with a head wound, dazed and frightened, she is far more beautiful than you could ever be. She is clever, quick witted, stubbornly strong minded to the point that you want to shake her, but she is adorable. Moreover, she is honest, caring and the gentlest human being I could ever possibly hope to meet. Do you seriously consider that any man with a woman like this by his side would think twice about anyone else, let alone a cold blooded thief like you?”
Cecily closed her eyes and began to pray. Although Jamie’s words made her heart turn warm, she wondered if he had just made matters considerably more difficult.
“I am not interested in you, Mister Fancy Breeches,” Miss Emstridge snarled. “I am talking about your father.”
“He didn’t like you, and would have gotten rid of you if he hadn’t died,” Jamie replied, trying not to shout.
He was aware that the longer he kept Miss Emstridge talking, the smaller the spill was getting. By the time it had burned down completely, it would do no more than singe her fingers. The last embers wouldn’t be enough to do any damage that they couldn’t put out. Only a few more minutes to go, and then they could put an end to this charade once and for all.
“We were close, far closer than you realise, until you turned up. Within weeks after you leaving, he was dead, but what did you do? Rather than showing any interest in the house, the library, like your father wanted, you just cleared off again, you bloody fool.” Miss Emstridge turned her full fury on him, but as far as Jamie was concerned, rather him than Cecily.
“It was perfect. Potter was a drunkard who could barely afford to fuel his habit. We both wanted to leave but couldn’t. I caught Potter thieving from your study, right from under your nose. Given that I was getting considerably less money than him, I decided to do a bit of bargaining. He was already using the storage room and agreed to store the books with his stolen goods.”
“We will get them back,” Jamie sighed, shaking his head at her.
“We know which ones they are. They are the rarest and most expensive in here,” Cecily added, thinking of the rolled up parchment in Jamie’s desk. If the place was to burn down, there was every chance that the list of stolen books would survive.
“Of course they are you stupid woman. Do you seriously consider that anyone would want any of this old rubbish? The rarest have a sale value that is far more than you realise. People are prepared to pay good money for them, and are so selfish and greedy that they choose not to ask too many questions.”
Jamie had heard enough. The look Cecily gave him told him that she knew more than she was letting on and he was glad that despite everything, she had the common sense and wisdom to keep the matter quiet for now.
Jamie looked down at the spill and knew that there was still too much on it. He was close enough to Cecily now though to ensure that she wouldn’t be harmed, and he could afford to lose some books. Simon had manoeuvred himself into position and Hugo was by the door. It was all Jamie needed.
“I am afraid your time at Melvedere has come to an end. However, you needn’t worry about ever having to work for you keep again because His Majesty will be keeping you from now on,” Jamie declared matter of factly.
“Oh, well, in that case, if there really is no choice,” Miss Emstridge’s almost conversational tone belied the lethal smile she gave him.
Jamie watched in slow motion as the spill left her fingers. He lunged toward it at the same time that Simon threw himself at Miss Emstridge, tackling her with such force that they landed in the doorway at Hugo’s feet.
Jamie thumped the ground, sagging with relief when the dying embers left no more damage behind than small patches of singed carpet and small streaks of soot on his fingers. Pushing the books away from the chair, he glanced toward the door. The sudden flurry of movement heralded the arrival of Warren.
“Get the doctor,” Jamie snapped, fumbling with the ties around Cecily’s ankles.
“Here, let me,” Hugo said gently, using his knife to quickly slice through the bindings. He had never seen Jamie so shaken, and understood now just how deeply his affection for the brave young woman in the chair really went.
“Ease forward,” Jamie murmured to Cecily, bracing an arm across her shoulders as she leaned against him to allow Hugo to cut the bonds on her wrists as well.
She gasped at the pain that exploded in her shoulders as her arms were suddenly freed. She found that she couldn’t sit up again, and didn’t want to. The reassuring width of Jamie’s shoulder was wonderful and she couldn’t break contact. Despite the discomfort, and the fact that she was smearing him with blood from her face, she wound one arm around his neck and clung to him.
Not that Jamie cared. He hauled her unceremoniously into his arms and held on for dear life. Just to feel her safe and alive was more than he dared to hope. He closed his mind to the possibility of what could have happened had he remained away from the house any longer than he had, and was blessedly grateful to Hugo and Simon for turning up when they had.
Once again, the cool logic and calm ruthlessness of the Star Elite had ensured that yet another criminal was off the streets, and another catastrophe was diverted with as little fanfare as possible.
Taking a deep breath, Jamie hauled her off her feet and into his arms, not bothering to even glance at the unconscious Miss Emstridge as he strode from the library.
Once in his study he didn’t bother to lie her down on the
chaise before the fire, merely slumped down in the chair next to the fire, holding her tightly against him when she curled up on his lap.
Cecily wearily rested her head on his shoulder again, grateful beyond words when his arms wrapped comfortingly around her.
Neither of them said anything for several long moments, seemingly content to simply savour all of them being safe and well.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Their silence didn’t last long.
Only a few minutes later, the bang of the front door heralded the arrival of Jonathan, clearly disgruntled and glowering mightily. He stalked into the library, marched over to the brandy and took one long slug straight from the decanter.
“Are you alright?” Jamie asked unconcernedly. Cecily had been sitting still for the last several minutes, and he wasn’t sure whether she had gone to sleep or not, but made no attempt to move her to find out. He could spend the rest of his life sitting where he was with Cecily on his lap.
“Got the b -” Jonathan glanced at Cecily and frowned, “him. He is tied like a chicken and in the barn waiting for removal. Where was she?”
“I don’t know,” Jamie sighed, knowing there was a lot to catch up on.
“Attics,” Cecily mumbled. She lifted her head and peered at Jamie. She took the goblet that Jonathan handed her with a smile of thanks, and took a sip of the brandy before handing it to Jamie, who downed the rest with shaking hands.
Jamie stared at her. Cecily paused as two men came into the library and looked askance at Jonathan.
“He owes me,” Jonathan grumbled, shooting a dour look at Jamie that belied the rueful look in his eye.
“The next time you fall in love and need help capturing the strange woman who agrees to become your wife, I will be there to help her don’t you worry,” Jamie mused, smiling down at Cecily tenderly.
Cecily felt her cheeks blush but made no attempt to find her own seat.
Jamie waved a casual hand toward the new arrivals.
“Darling, this is Hugo, my boss and Simon, my other boss.” He smiled down at Cecily.
The men nodded and helped themselves to liberal shots from the decanter that was moved to the small table closer to them.
“This is Cecily Tinsdale, Portia’s sister, and my future wife.”
Cecily knew she should remind him that he had yet to ask her properly, but couldn’t find the heart. The men chorused gruff congratulations, carefully remaining seated rather than trying to shake Jamie’s hand. She wanted to nod at them but her head was pounding, so she smiled instead.
She knew that they all must look like a really odd group of people. Jonathan was dressed entirely in black, and had a huge lump on his head and a grumpy expression on his face. Hugo and Simon looked dapper, and were casually lounging around as though they had decided to drop in for a quick chat. She was half covered in blood and sat inelegantly on Jamie’s lap while he merely smiled at everyone and anything.
“You’ll get used to us,” Jonathan remarked, honing in on Cecily’s wry look. Cecily smiled a conspiratorial smile at him but remained quiet.
Jamie’s gaze locked with Hugo’s, and a silent exchange was held. “Yes, she knows about her father,” Jamie replied out aloud and told them about Cecily’s upbringing.
A small part of her balked at having Jamie speak for her, but she simply couldn’t find the heart, or the energy, to protest.
“We weren’t planning on stopping,” Simon announced wryly. “We only came to ask Cecily a few questions on our way through, but now that we have two new convicts to ensure meet justice, then I think we will deal with them before we go on our way.”
“We will take them with us,” Hugo added, sharing a look with Simon who nodded in agreement. “We will see to them, unless you would prefer to do the honours yourself?”
Jamie shook his head. “As long as they go to jail, I don’t care how they get there or who takes them.”
“Emstridge is in the pantry being guarded by Warren with a gun,” Simon reported, smiling when Jamie choked on his swig of brandy.
“Warren? With a gun?” He glanced in horror at Cecily who merely smiled. The thought of the staid and rather proper looking butler standing on sentry duty outside the pantry door was really rather funny.
“I didn’t load it though,” Simon added with a chuckle. “Miss Emstridge is out for the count and also,” he glanced at Jonathan, “what was it? Trussed like a chicken?”
“Good enough,” Jamie replied, staring at Cecily thoughtfully. “I think you need to go and lie down for a while.”
“I am fine,” Cecily argued, ignoring Jamie’s doubtful look. “Don’t you want to know what I have been up to while you were gone?”
“I think I know what you were up to while I was gone,” Jamie replied dourly. “Rather too well, I am afraid.”
“But you don’t know all of it,” Cecily persisted, pushing at his arms until he reluctantly allowed her to wriggle off his lap. She waved him back down when he moved to assist her and walked on slightly unsteady legs toward the drawer of his desk. Returning moments later, she gasped at the speed in which she was swept off her feet and drawn unceremoniously back onto Jamie’s lap.
“I made a list of some of the books in the library that have been stolen. The fake copies are still on the shelves,” she added unrolling the parchment. “I don’t know much about the books, but Miss Emstridge let slip that the ones she had taken were rare and had a good market value. These are the titles of some of them.”
Jamie stared at her in shock before carefully removing the parchment from her fingers. He studied it for several moments before handing it over to Hugo.
Simon whistled when he read several of the titles over Hugo’s shoulder. “God, they are rare. This one I have only ever heard of,” he pointed to one at the top of the page and stared at Hugo who was studying the list with a frown.
“I will question Emstridge and Potter, was it?” Hugo announced flatly, his tone cold and hard. “By finding their buyer, we should be able to find the chain back to the new owner. Buying stolen goods is illegal. Leave it with me. I will see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” Jamie muttered, watching the parchment disappear into Hugo’s jacket. He had no doubt that at some point he would be seeing his books back. Although he had never been one to read much, they were part of his father’s private collection and Jamie’s link to the memory of his late sire.
“We will let Cecily get some rest and then I need to ask a few questions, I am afraid,” Hugo said after several moments of thoughtful silence.
“Ask now,” Cecily offered, feeling Jamie shift uneasily beneath her. “I am fine,” she sighed, and looked at him ruefully. “I would rather get this over with and then we don’t need to take up any more of Hugo’s time. I would rather answer the questions so they can take Emstridge and Potter off to where they need to be,” she turned apologetic eyes on Hugo and Simon. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t mean that I was trying to get rid of you or anything, please forgive me.”
“Not a problem,” Simon replied with a smile. “I have a wife with a teething baby at home. She will chew my ears if I leave her holding the fort for too long, and Hugo here has to get back to his growing brood.”
“Hugo has three children and a forth on the way,” Jamie informed Cecily.
“Not personally, you understand. My wife does all the work,” Hugo added with an unrepentant grin. “But we do need to get back before the children take over the house and we can’t get back in.”
Cecily chuckled and tried valiantly to hide the instinctive wince against the sharp stab of pain in her forehead.
“If you are sure you feel up to it, we will leave you to your recovery,” Simon suggested, including Jamie in his remark. They both looked as though they had been through their own fair share of trauma. He knew from personal experience just how long it took to recover from such an ordeal. The memories of his own personal ordeal with his wife Francesca were still raw and, despite the fact that she
lay beside him each night in bed, he often woke up in a cold sweat at the nightmares that still plagued him.
Cecily nodded, and made no protest when Jamie drew her protectively against him. She answered the questions as best as she could although was unable to provide them with much information at all. She realised then just how little she had known the man who had called himself their father.
“I want you to promise me one thing, Cecily,” Hugo warned, his voice as dark as his expression.
Cecily froze and turned toward him.
“I know you are not likely to discuss your father with anyone, but this has to remain strictly confidential. Nobody is to mention him at all, or the Star Elite. As far as anyone knows, if they ask who your father was, tell them he was a businessman in Scotland who passed away several years back. Your real father, from this point onwards in your life, ceases to exist. It is imperative for the protection of the men who work within the Star Elite.”
Cecily stared at him for several long moments and nodded solemnly. “He has ceased to exist in my life for the last several weeks. We weren’t in his house in Tissington through choice,” she replied. “He really was a stranger to us, wasn’t he?”
“I think he was a stranger to everyone,” Simon replied. “He was loyal to nobody except his money box. It’s a long and lonely life to take and he will find from now on that his allies have deserted him. But that’s his problem, not yours. You have a future now, and one that takes you far away from him and his problems. He won’t find out where you are, so you need never worry that he will ever reappear in your life.”
“Good,” she replied, smiling gratefully at Simon. “How is Portia? Have you heard anything else?”
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