Capturing Sir Dunnicliffe (The Star Elite Series) (15 page)

Simon coughed uncomfortably, feeling the all too familiar grief settle over him like a dark cloud of foreboding.

“Then Helena died. So suddenly that nobody knew what had happened. She was sick, but just didn’t seem to recover. She wasn’t that old either,” he glanced sadly at Hugo, and sucked in a deep breath at the painful memories.

“I heard that Harriett couldn’t get the clergy at the village church to allow Helena to be buried in there. She was a witch, and as such couldn’t be buried in consecrated ground. But I was bloody determined she was going to be buried in her rightful place.” His voice grew hard as
an old remembered fury began to build. “I arranged for Helena to be buried at the Manor, in a quiet corner of the graveyard where she could rest in peace. I have since built a vault and moved her into it.”

“A vault?”

“More of a new family crypt. Estelle and her family may have kept us apart when she was alive, but there is nothing keeping me away from Helena in death. When I pass, my solicitors have strict instructions to make sure I am buried in the vault next to Helena.”

Hugo stared at him in shock, unsure what to say.

“Estella couldn’t have been very happy with Helena being buried at the Manor.”

Simon grunted,
memories of Estelle’s ranting and screeching still echoing in his ears. “I didn’t care. Helena and Harriett were too important. Harriett came to the funeral. It was the only time she has visited the Manor.”

“Why?” Hugo frowned, wondering what could be so wrong with Harriett visiting her mother’s grave.

“I think it is Romilla. She interrupted the funeral quite rudely, to the point that I had to drag her back to the house and lock her in her room, but not in time to stop Harriett hearing her spiteful rant against the witches of the village.”

“Do you think Romilla
has been to see Harriett?” Hugo asked thoughtfully.

“I think she may have done, although she hasn’t told me. Unfortunately
, until recently, my relationship with Harriett has been too frosty for me to broach the subject.”

“She isn’t frosty because she is angry with you,” Hugo murmured, thinking aloud. “She is awkward because she doesn’t know you yet.”

“I don’t know, Hugo, I wish I did,” Simon remarked, tugging Hugo’s elbow and drawing him into the road that would take them to the doctor’s house. “Helena told Harriett who I was before she died, apparently. I don’t know why she left it so late; maybe she didn’t want Harriett being alone, or maybe she wanted to right a wrong.”

“
Harriett isn’t a spiteful person,” Hugo said, a bit too sharply. Although his own acquaintance with Harriett was still new, he knew enough about her to know that she didn’t have a spiteful bone in her body. “She is awkward sometimes, and annoyingly argumentative, but not malicious. Besides, things are improving, you have said so yourself.”

“Thankfully,” Simon replied fervently. “I
am impatient though, and want a closer relationship with my daughter than I have had since she was born. I have lost far too many years already. If you would take a word of advice from me?”

Hugo nodded, feeling no reason to deny the man given he had revealed so many painful memories to answer his questions.

“Don’t take any loved ones for granted. If you have the opportunity to love the woman who holds your heart, keep hold of her with both hands and don’t let go of her. Never let anything drive you apart, because there may not be a chance to get her back again. The misery of living apart from someone you love scars your life. Although you live each day as anyone would, you live with the inner knowledge that something is missing, and nothing will ever really be right again.”

Hugo frowned, knowing he was referring to his own budding relationship with Harriett.

“I work in a job where my life is at risk daily. It isn’t much to offer anybody,” Hugo reminded him gently.

“Even more of a reason not to take anything for granted,” Simon argued, casting the man a warning look.
“We won’t be at war forever. Then what?”

Hugo frowned at that
, as a thought came to him. They were at war. Napoleon was still proving a thorn in everyone’s side, and although rumours were rife that his days were numbered, until he was taken prisoner, the war raged on.

So why wasn’t Simon fighting for King an
d country like every other able-bodied man?

Hugo and the men from the Star Elite had all served their time fighting on the battlefields. At some point they had returned to English shores for various reasons and been sequestered into the elite fighting unit tasked with handling the most dangerous assignments within Eng
lish borders, namely smugglers and spies. When the war ended, what would happen to them all?

They were a few yards from the doctor’s front door when a loud scream rent the air.

Simon snapped a startled gaze at Hugo, who broke into a run, bursting through the front door of the doctor’s house in a blaze of fury. He could hear footsteps thumping somewhere in the deepest parts of the house, and ran up the stairs, two at a time.

Seconds later he burst through the door of Harriett’s room, his stunned gaze landing on a weeping Harriett who was staring
at him in horror.

“What the hell?” Hugo demanded, raking the room with a quick glance before turning to Harriett. He swept across the room, dragging her trembling body into his arms as she wept against his shoulder.

“What happened?” he demanded, easing her away from his shoulder to stare down at her face. “Harriett,” he shook her shoulders to snap her out of her tears.

The sight of her gorgeous eyes full of fear
unmanned him.

“Someone was in here,” she gasped, lifting a trembling hand to the marks around her neck.

Hugo stared in horror at the clear outline of fingers reddening the skin around her neck.

“Did you see them?” he demanded, flicking a glance toward Simon who had just stumbled through the door, panting heavily.

“There was someone running out of here,” he gasped, leaning against the wall while he caught his breath.

“Did you see them?”

Simon shook his head briefly. “No, but it was a man. He took off through the gate and ran up the hill, heading out of the village.” He shot Hugo an apologetic look. “By the time I got to the corner of the road, he had vanished. I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.
” Hugo’s voice was cold and deadly. “I’ll catch up with him later.”

“Please
, Hugo, I want to leave here,” Harriett whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Where is Mar
ion?”

“I don’t know,” Harriett replied, still rubbing the red
marks around her neck. “I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“Joshua?”

Harriett shrugged.

“I want to go home,” Harriett gasped
again, casting a pleading glance at Simon.

“What happened?” Simon asked, his voice laced with concern.

“We’ll find that out later,” Hugo replied, shooting him a warning look. “Right now, let’s get you out of here.” He gently pushed Harriett toward Simon and turned to check the room, opening the doors to the linen cupboard, and checking under the bed. Picking up Harriett’s muslin dress from beside the bed, he carried it over to her.

“Get dressed, we’ll just be outside. You are going home.” He paused only briefly to see Harriett nod jerkily.

His heart melted at the lost, almost befuddled, look on her face as she glanced down at the clothing in her hands as though she wasn’t sure what to do with them. Ignoring Simon’s presence, Hugo placed a blunt fingertip under her chin and tipped her head up.

“I made a mistake today
, Harriett, please forgive me,” he whispered, waiting until her eyes met his. “I won’t do the same again,” he promised, placing a tender kiss on her lips. He almost smiled at her startled gasp, and watched as a faint tinge of colour flooded her cheeks before giving her a quick wink and ushering Simon ahead of him as he left the room.

They entered Harriett’s small stone cottage half an hour later. Harriett was trembling, to the point that Hugo had to practically carry her across the threshold.

“I really do think you should come and stay at the Manor for a few days,” Simon declared. “It’s colder in here than outside.” He rubbed his arms to stave off the chill that began to draw the warmth from his flesh, and glanced disparagingly at the neatly laid hearth in the kitchen.

“Who has been in here?” Harriett gasped, eyeing her pristine kitchen in surprise.

“Some of the ladies within th
e village came to clean and tidy up while you were ill,” Hugo replied, staring at her in concern. “Before you say anything, I think most of the villagers felt quite peeved that they couldn’t do anything to help when you were ill, so they did the next best thing and took it upon themselves to look after your things. I think they may have gone overboard,” he added ruefully, running a finger over the scarred surface of the kitchen table, which appeared to have been beeswaxed.

“It’s wonderful,” Harriett whispered, unable to fight the tears that loomed. Her face crumpled as she stared
, nonplussed, at the small vase of wildflowers sitting in the middle of the table, and the neatly swept fireplace. She hiccupped a sob, and swiped at the tears on her cheeks.

“Come here,” Hugo murmured, drawing her into his arms. “I think you need to
stay at the Manor for a while.” He felt her instinctive jerk and knew she was going to object. “It would help me considerably, you see, I have some men coming from the Star Elite, and they will need a place to stay. It would be useful if they could reside here, and keep an eye out for our stranger, while they investigate who is trying to harm you.”

“By staying at the Manor, Harriett, we can make sure you are looked aft
er.” Simon winced when Harriett stared at him, and knew she was going to object that she could look after herself perfectly well. “It will make it harder for anyone, even Romilla, if she is the guilty one, to make any more attempts on your life. There are far too many people about.” He didn’t add that he would be appointing a footman or three to be her personal guards. She wouldn’t go anywhere without having at least four or five people watching her; including himself.

“But this is my home,” Harriett hiccupped.

“I’m not suggesting you leave it permanently - just for a few days while we catch this murderer,” Hugo growled. He tipped her chin up with one long finger and stared into her beautiful eyes. “I will be able to focus better on what I need to do to capture the person, or people, responsible for trying to harm us. It will help knowing that you aren’t living so isolated, without anyone around to hear you scream if there is a problem. Unfortunately, because I need to investigate with my men, I can’t be here as much as I need to. You need to concentrate on taking steps to keep yourself safe, even if that means moving to the Manor for a few days.”

“Don’t worry about Romilla,” Simon added from his position beside the door. “She has been warned
and is leaving soon.”

He should be annoyed by the physical closeness Hugo seemed to be taking advantage of, but couldn’t find it within him to object. They seemed such a natural couple that it was difficult to warn Hugo off. Especially given that he sincerely hoped that Hugo would decide to make Harriett his wife.

It had been extremely difficult for him to talk about his past once more, and visit ghosts of old, but if it helped the man decide on which side his bread was buttered, then it was a small price to pay for Harriett’s happiness.

He could only hope that Hugo was wise enough to realise what he had before him, and hold on to it while he could.

They were interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. Harriett jumped and gasped, her hand instinctively going to her throat. She glanced in alarm at the door, and immediately moved closer to Hugo’s reassuring warmth.

“It’s al
l right,” Hugo hastened to comfort her. The knock on the door was accompanied by a strange rapping sound that made Hugo immediately smile.

“Let them in please
, Simon,” he said, pulling Harriett closer to his side. “I do believe the reinforcements have arrived.”

Simon opened the door and stood back.

“About time you turned up,” Hugo chided, releasing Harriett to grasp the hand the first man held out to him.

“Archie, my man, how the devil are you?”

“Better than you, by the sound of it,” Archie Balfour replied, shaking Hugo’s hand warmly before turning to the stunningly beautiful woman standing beside his boss. He suddenly understood why Hugo didn’t want to leave the delights of Padstow.

“Archie
- at your service, ma’am,” he offered, grasping her hand and bowing over it as he kissed the back of the soft flesh briefly. His chocolate brown eyes twinkled merrily at her, and he watched her pale face suddenly flush with colour.

“Archie, move over boy,” the man behind him ordered, giving him a non
e too gentle nudge out of the way before moving to stand before Harriett.

“Jamie, my dear. Pleased to meet you,” he murmured, bowing briefly at her before turning to Hugo, his brows quirked in suppressed amusement. “I take it you are incapable of dealing with things by yourself, and have decided to call in the men to do the job for you?”

Hugo rolled his eyes, shook his head and shot Harriett a look.

“Ignore these two, ma’am,” the third man said quietly from his position in front of her.
“They are here merely to provide us with amusement. My name is Rupert, ma’am, and it is a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded to her and moved to stand beside his friends.

Harriett’s kitchen was suddenly full to bursting, and Harriett
realised why Hugo felt she needed to move to the Manor. If the men stayed in her tiny cottage, they would be forever tripping over each other and sharing her cottage, unchaperoned, with four men, would certainly be awkward.

Hugo was tall, broad-
shouldered and had a commanding presence about him that positively shimmered danger. Harriett had seen people, both men and women, take a small step back when he approached. Although he was polite and affable, there was no question that he had the ability to turn and become a ruthless adversary in the blink of an eye. Having met his ‘associates’ from the Star Elite, Harriett almost felt sorry for the man who had shot Hugo and attempted to murder her, not once, but twice. His, or her, days were definitely numbered. She felt considerably calmer at the thought and began to relax for the first time in days.

She tried hard not to stare at the new arrivals, but found herself watching them as they were introduced to Simon. She noted that they didn’t give their last names, merely introduced themselves by fi
rst name only. No titles either and, unless Harriett was much mistaken, at least two of them were titled. They had that look of aristocracy about them that most of the socially elite seemed to carry naturally from birth.

Archie was a little shorter than Hugo, but not much.
His dark blond hair fell in thick waves over his high brow, emphasising his deep brown eyes that glistened with mischief and good humour. Despite his affable behaviour, Harriett watched his eyes flit from one thing to another, searching, scouring and taking note. She had no doubt that he had a better idea of the layout of her kitchen than even she did.

The man beside him stood in stark contrast to Archie’s easy-going charm. Jamie could only be described as sinister, but in a friendly way. Harriett shivered at the sheer presence of the man as he stood before her. Taller
than Archie and Hugo, with jet-black hair and beautiful grey eyes, Harriett had no doubt that this man would cut your throat within the blink of an eye if you crossed him, and probably wouldn’t even bother to ask questions later.

Her gaze automatically turned to the last man, Rupert. He looked
like the odd one out of the group. His fashionably-cut, dark brown hair was more in keeping with the ballrooms of the
ton
. If one was fooled by his almost bookish persona, one would be lulled into thinking that his watchful, alert personality was nothing more than mere observation. Harriett felt his eyes study her, assess her searchingly before making an abrupt decision and moving on to the next thing they needed to judge.

The
three men were so different that at first one would assume that they had no business even being together.

“It’s what makes them so successful,” Hugo whispered, smiling when Harriett turned startled eyes toward him. He had seen her study the men, trying to make them out, and understood her confusion.

The men from the Star Elite were mis-matched, and that is what made them one of the best undercover fighting units in the country. Nobody looking at them would ever think they even knew each other, let alone had anything in common. But Hugo knew that Rupert was an analyst who could study, assess and remember maps, places, people and faces better than anyone he knew. Jamie was more of an enigma. Precise and knowledgeable, he had astounding knife skills and was adept at entering any property as silently as a ghost. His best skill was breaking and entering. How he had acquired those skills Hugo didn’t want to know, but he was the best in the business.

Archie
, however, was probably the most diverse member of the team. He could blend in with any crowd, anywhere, and simply vanish. His sword skills were legendary and, although his knife skills had improved significantly with practice, his ability to track anything that moved with little clues to guide him was simply humbling to watch.

“You said in your note you had been shot. I take it you are better now?” Rupert asked, raising his brows and imperceptibly nodding toward Harriett.

“It’s all right,” Hugo sighed, motioning everyone to the table. With everyone standing, the room seemed to be closing in on them. It was a relief to have everyone seated, and less imposing. “We can talk in front of Harriett and Simon.”