by Rebecca King
No matter how handsome he is.
“My walking a few hundred feet home doesn’t give anybody the right to accost me,” Clara snapped.
Niall pushed against his captive’s shoulders when he felt the man try to push away from the wall again.
“Get off me,” Erasmus growled.
“Leave the young woman alone.”
“She is my fiancé,” Erasmus protested. “We were having a lover’s tiff, that’s all. It’s nothing you should concern yourself about.”
Niall lifted his brows at the young woman. Something within him instantly objected to the possibility that someone as pretty as this young woman could be marrying a letch like Erasmus.
He looked questioningly at the young woman, his eyes silently pleading with her to deny it. “Is that true?”
Clara shook her head. “He is a liar. I have no interest in him and have made my lack of interest perfectly clear. We are not engaged, courting, or anything. I don’t like the man and have made no attempt to hide it.”
Clara struggled to take her eyes off the handsome stranger. It was getting dark but was still light enough for her to see that against Erasmus’s much smaller frame the stranger was a veritable God. He was tall, broad shouldered, with dark curly hair and a dangerous glint in his eyes. She suspected they were dark brown, but it was too dark to be certain. What she could see was the ease in which he rendered Erasmus unable to move or talk unless the pressure was released off his head. Erasmus was going nowhere and knew it, and this stranger was responsible.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
It wasn’t until he threw her a sharp look that she realised she had just whispered that aloud. She blinked when he didn’t answer her and wondered if she should press for details.
There is no reason why I should know everything there is to know about him.
But Clara wanted to. Even in the darkness, he had a sinister air about him that she knew she should be worried about. After what she had just witnessed him do, though, she felt safe with the stranger. Safer than she had ever felt around Erasmus. In fact, she felt so safe in the presence of the handsome stranger that she temporarily forgot about Erasmus who was still pressed humiliatingly against the wall.
“What of it? Eh? The young lady says you are a liar as well. So, am I to take it that you are the kidnapper who accosts you woman off the street?” Niall pressed.
“No. No. It wasn’t me. That wasn’t me. I don’t have anything to do with that,” Erasmus protested, his voice becoming more rushed as his panic grew. “It wasn’t me. It isn’t me. I don’t kidnap young women.”
“Why should I believe you when that is what I have just watched you try to do? We have now established that you, sir, are a liar,” Niall protested. He could feel Boyle quivering beneath his fist but didn’t release the man. “I think that unless you want to draw the suspicion of the authorities you stop harassing young ladies, and trying to kidnap them, Boyle. Do it again and I shall point the Lord Chief Justice’s men in your direction, understand?”
Niall had every intention of keeping a wary eye on the snake while he was in the village not least because he wasn’t at all sure that he wasn’t looking at the culprit, or one of them. It was a little odd that his cousin was a magistrate who was inclined to ignore his relative’s criminal behaviour.
Suddenly, a shiver of alarm snuck down Niall’s spine. He squinted at the wall briefly before he slowly turned a hard glare on the young woman.
“What’s your name?” he whispered.
“Pardon?” Clara blinked at him. She ignored the wild thrill of pleasure that swirled through her at his apparent interest.
“What’s your name?”
“Miss Clara Potter,” she whispered, wondering why he wanted to know.
Niall sighed. Outwardly, no sign of emotion was evident on his chiselled features. Inwardly, Niall cringed and mentally cursed. He looked at Boyle with renewed curiosity, and a wariness that made him start to wonder. Without looking at Miss Potter again, Niall leaned toward his quarry until his lips touched the man’s ear.
“Stay away from her, or I will have you behind bars.”
“Says who?” Boyle twisted his head around until he could glare at Niall out of one eye.
“Says me, and it is no idle threat.”
“You aren’t local. Why should I pay any attention to what you say?”
“Because he is my fiancé, not you, Boyle,” Clara snapped suddenly.
She slammed her mouth closed when she realised what she had just said. She blinked at stared at the stranger in astonishment as her cheeks flooded with colour. The stranger turned slowly to stare at her and tipped his head as if to silently ask her what she thought she was doing.
Stunned, Niall couldn’t think of a single thing to say by way of protest. Words failed him. He was galled that she should even attempt to say such a thing much less expect him to go along with it. She didn’t know him. He was, until now at least, a random stranger who had appeared out of nowhere.
Just what does she think she is doing?
Everything within Niall immediately began to protest at even starting to go along with her ruse. As far as he was concerned, whatever Miss Potter thought she could achieve by creating such a ruse would have to be done without involving him. Somehow, though, he just couldn’t force himself to utter the words that would put a stop to her lies.
Boyle huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Of course he is, and my cousin is going to be the next King of England.”
Disbelief was rife in his voice and echoed Niall’s sentiments. Rather than help her, Niall turned an askance look on the young woman in question and waited to see what she would do next. Before she could speak, Boyle snorted again.
“You are not engaged. I would have heard of it if you were,” Boyle continued before she could speak.
“I can assure you that we are most definitely engaged. Him and me, not you and me, Boyle. Who are you to question it? There is absolutely no reason why you should know anything about my personal business,” Clara snapped. “Unless you have been prying into my life as well as following me, there is no reason why you should know what I do with my life. You really must get over this strange addiction you have for pestering me. I am engaged to another man. This man.”
Niall, still struggling with his disbelief, glared at her but turned his annoyance to the man he still held against the wall.
“Stay away from my fiancé,” he growled, unsure why he was going along with her silly games, even temporarily.
“Clara! You have a fiancé?”
Niall closed his eyes and cursed viciously beneath his breath when he heard that feminine cry of delight. He glared at the elderly woman who hurried down the street toward them, her weathered features beaming with her joy. He lifted brows in Clara’s direction, silently asking her to stop the pretence.
“This is Mrs Edith Burnam,” Clara replied, carefully ignoring the stranger’s pointed look. “She runs the dress shop.”
“You never told me you had a suitor,” Edith chided.
Clara mentally winced and tried to think of something suitable to say.
“We are not-” Niall began before the woman could get carried away with her congratulations.
“We hadn’t intended to make an announcement just yet,” Clara interjected loudly before Niall could call her a liar. “We are going to – wait a while.”
She mentally winced when she realised how weak an excuses that sounded.
“Wait a while? What on earth for, dear?” Edith asked, frowning in consternation at Niall before turning a puzzled look on Clara.
“Well-” Clara mentally winced when the handsome stranger threw her a dour look, leaving her in no doubt he wasn’t at all happy with finding himself with a new albeit temporary fiancé. It was also clear he wasn’t going to help her create a story that would appease her curious friend because he remained stoically silent and took to glaring pugnaciously at her.
“For my father to
come back from London,” Clara gasped.
She had no idea why she should say such a thing because if she did get engaged then she would go to London to inform her father, not wait for him to come to her.
“But surely you intend to tell your friends, don’t you?” Edith demanded, clearly annoyed at the prospect that Clara had wanted to keep her news to herself for a while. She turned to eye the handsome stranger with an assessing look that made him sigh and roll his eyes. “He is rather handsome. No wonder you want him to yourself.”
“Edith,” Clara chided, her cheeks turning florid.
Niall rolled his eyes and fought the urge to squirm. He wondered if this was how prize horse flesh felt at market. He refused to turn around and see for himself but could feel their assessing gazes running over him.
Damn it all to Hell. This is turning into a damned circus.
Everything within him was screaming at him to put a stop to Clara Potter’s lies now, before it went any further and cost him his job with the Star Elite, which he knew it would if news reached her father.
“Jesus Christ,” he growled beneath his breath.
“Why, you dark horse.” Edith nudged Clara roughly in the ribs and threw her an approving look.
Clara coughed and shifted uncomfortably.
“What’s he doing with Erasmus?” Edith whispered when she realised what Clara’s fiancé was doing.
“Erasmus thought it would be a good idea to pester me again,” Clara sighed. “Thankfully, my f-fiancé was here to save me.”
“What’s his name?” Edith whispered.
“Erasmus Boyle,” Clara replied, mentally racing around to try to find a name that would seem fitting for such a powerful stranger as the one before her.
“No, your fiancé, you goose,” Edith chided.
Niall mentally ran through every curse he had ever heard, learnt, and was familiar with – twice. He counted to ten and tried hard not to punch the wall mere inches away. He had no idea what in the Hell possessed the damned chit to tell the woman anything, but she was rattling off a totally fictitious story with a ready ease that was disturbing.
She is a liar and used to lying to people given how easily she has managed to come up with a story that is convincing to her closest friends.
That disturbing news came hand-in-hand with the awful realisation that the young woman making up stories about him was the woman he was in Serpentine to protect: Miss Clara Potter. Even more sinisterly, Oscar’s marriage to Emmeline hovered tauntingly over his head. While the circumstances were different, Oliver had been thrown into close quarters with Emmeline in a situation that had been very similar to this.
And look how that had turned out. While Oliver might be happy, I have no intention of ever settling down to married life.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Niall snapped loudly when the women began to talk about where the wedding would be held and when. Before they could decide on how many children he would father as well, Niall decided to put a stop to the damned plans. “What do you want to do about him? Does he go to the magistrate in the next county?”
“Oh, no. I don’t suppose so,” Clara sighed as if seriously considering the options.
“No?” Niall lifted his brows at her, astonished that she wouldn’t want to inform the lawman in the next county seeing as Boyle’s cousin couldn’t be trusted.
“I think Erasmus may have gotten the message,” Edith informed him wisely.
Erasmus began to mumble something, but his face was too distorted by the wall for anybody to be able to understand him.
Niall sighed and wondered just how much worse his day was going to get.
“What’s his name again?” Edith prompted out of the corner of her mouth, but loud enough for Niall to hear.
Clara threw a worried look at the stranger. She knew she could come up with a fabricated name but suspected she had already pushed this far enough. Her handsome hero was looking decidedly put out, not least because he still held Erasmus against a wall like he was holding up a picture.
“Let’s deal with the introductions once he has gone,” Clara murmured with a nod to Erasmus.
Edith nodded her understanding before turning to look at Niall.
“Let’s deal with the introductions another time,” Clara suggested.
“Oh, pooh. He can let Erasmus go. You are now engaged and completely off the marriage market. There is no earthly reason why Erasmus should come anywhere near you now,” Edith assured her. She stepped forward and tapped Niall on the shoulder. “You may release him now. You, Erasmus, go home and stop causing trouble. The lady is spoken for.”
Niall pushed roughly against the man as he released him, and reluctantly stepped back. He remained watchful and wary as Erasmus turned to face him.
“Go near her again and I shall damned well cut you down where you stand,” Niall growled. “It’s no warning. I don’t give a damn who your cousin is. I have bigger and better friends than you will ever have. Stay away from my fiancé.”
Erasmus glared at Niall before turning the full force of his anger on Clara, whom he glared at. With one last dark look at Edith, he brushed past everyone and hurried off down the street, clearly unnerved by what had just happened, and a little put out that he was the one who walked away looking foolish.
“Thank you,” Clara whispered to her rescuer.
“Miss Edith Burnham.” Edith dipped into a curtsey.
Niall mentally cursed and bowed in response to the woman’s curtsey. “Mr Niall Farley-Paget.”
“Now, where have I heard that name before?” Edith mused.
“I am not sure,” Niall replied, hoping to God she hadn’t heard it anywhere.
“Where do you hail from?”
“London.” Niall threw Clara a dark look. “If you are ready, I shall escort you home. Then I have to be on my way. I have a meeting to get to.”
Niall nodded at the older woman before he ushered Clara down the street. After an initial wary look, Clara began to walk quite contentedly alongside him. She paused long enough to wave goodbye to Edith, who waved back with a broad smile on her face.
“Wait,” Niall commanded.
Clara dutifully stopped.
“We will watch you home,” Niall announced turning to Edith.
Edith flushed with pleasure and called a cheery goodnight to them before she dutifully hurried home. Niall and Clara watched her walk up to her front door before she paused to wave them goodbye. Seconds later they heard the slam of her front door closing.
“Let’s go,” Niall ordered.
Once they were alone, Clara turned to look at the stranger. She was painfully aware that she had to tip her head right back to look him in the eye. His presence was positively commanding, but she wasn’t scared by it. She felt safe, reassured, protected. So much so, she tipped her head and studied him a little more.
“Now, why do I get the feeling that we have met somewhere before?” she murmured.
“I have no idea,” Niall replied dismissively.
He cringed at the intent way Clara was studying him as if trying to remember if they had met before. He could read the questions she wanted to ask in her eyes.
“Let’s get you home before any more amorous suitors can make their intentions clear,” he growled.
Rather than grab her arm and drag her as Erasmus would have done, Niall held his elbow out and waited.
Clara hesitantly took it and ambled alongside him as he guided them down the street.
“Where are we going?” he asked when they had taken no more than a few steps.
“At the end of the street turn to the right. My house is the third on the left.”
Niall didn’t speak as he escorted her home. He casually ignored the fact that if anybody had seen them they witnessed nothing more than a couple walking arm in arm down the street.
Unfortunately, that is what my colleagues will see as well. They are going to think I have lost my damned mind. Once they have stopped laughing of cours
e.
“We have met before, haven’t we?” Clara asked, but it wasn’t a question.
There was something about him that was familiar. She had no idea what it was because she was certain she had never been introduced to him. Niall was not a man a woman was ever likely to forget. There was a compelling magnetism about him that was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t anything to do with his looks either. There was a power, a raw strength, that was an intrinsic part of him that was as alarming as it was reassuring. The only people she had ever met who were like it was Sir Hugo Dunnicliffe, the boss of a hidden organisation within the War Office; the Star Elite.
The men of the Star Elite all had an air of danger about them; a calm yet ruthless air of command which was enough to worry and reassure at the same time. In fact, the more she studied the stranger, and contemplated the effortless way he had pinned Boyle to the wall, the more she began to suspect she was right. He was one of the Star Elite.
“No, we have never met before,” Niall bit out, his tone cold and dismissive.
Clara knew instinctively that he was lying, but rather than take him to task over it, lapsed into thoughtful silence.
“What?” Niall demanded, not liking just how quiet she had gone.
“Nothing.”
“Really.” His tone was disbelieving.
“Really,” she repeated firmly, and purposefully ignored the put-upon sigh that whistled through his clenched teeth.
Until they reached her house.
CHAPTER FOUR
“You keep doing that,” Clara chided.
“What?” Niall demanded.
“Sighing. Are you bored?”
“I am tired and in no mood for this. I would suggest that to stop this evening ever happening again you go home, stay there, and don’t come out again without a chaperone. Where is your family in any case?”
“At home,” Clara replied without doubting the wisdom of telling him the intimate details of her life.
“Is your father at home?” Niall knew Atticus was in London.
“No. He is – away.”
“Please tell me that you don’t live alone.” Niall glared at her and waited.