His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) (22 page)

To her, last night had been something beautiful, something so shatteringly perfect that it had shaken her to her very core. She knew that she would never forget what they had shared, even if she ignored the changes her wanton behaviour had brought her. She had asked him for nothing and he had offered her nothing. She had no right to be angry with him if he sought physical comfort from someone else tonight. Especially given the way the distance had grown between them. For her, she knew she would never experience with another everything that she had shared with Archie.

For him, that was clearly last night. Gone and forgotten.

Cursing herself for being several kinds of fool, Portia picked up her cloak from the chair, folded it and placed it very carefully back on the seat. Lost for something else to do, she sat at the table beside the window and listlessly began to eat. In fact, she tasted very little of the sumptuous meat and gravy. Instead staring absently out of the window into the darkness beyond, listening to the echoes of laughter and conversation from the tap room below.

She had never felt so alone and so lost in her entire life as she did right then. Despite the noise, for all intents and purposes she could have been the only person in the world. Once again
, she longed to have Cecily to confide in. Her thoughts turned to her sister once more and she felt a shiver of fear at the possibility that Cecily might not have fared as well as she had. The thought of Cecily fighting for her life using heavy lumps of wood as she had done filled her with horror, and she could only hope that Jamie had proven true to his word and protected her to the best of his ability. But, until she received word that Cecily was alright, there was little she could do to change the course of either of their lives.

Although Archie had plans for them to remain at
Monkton Castle until the threat of the spy smugglers had gone, Portia had every intention of taking her own future into her own hands. She had escaped her father’s matrimonial plans, and wasn’t about to be forced into marriage to anyone else, by anyone else, and that included Archie.

Archie watched her disappear from sight and glanced down at his meal as he contemplated following her. The hunger he had felt only moments before had suddenly vanished and the meal had about as much appeal as rubbing sand into his own eyes. Still, he had learned long ago that he had no idea when he would be able to take his next meal and had to get as much sustenance as he could, while he could. With that in mind, he sat back
down at the table and forced himself to consume what was placed before him.

By the time he did return to the room later that night, it was clear that Portia had been busy. On first entering the room, his gaze turned toward the bed, expecting her to be between the sheets fast asleep. His heart lurched at the sight of the empty bed, and he flicked a stark glance around the room, his mind frantically racing until his eyes landed on the chairs on the opposite side of the room. Portia had pushed them both together and now lay curled up, beneath a thin blanket, with her head resting on a folded pillow
on the hard arm of one of the chairs.

Archie
walked quietly across the room to stand beside her. She looked so uncomfortably bent and twisted in such a small space, that his heart went out to her. Had he hurt her last night more than she was letting on? Or was she still sore from last night, and uncomfortable from a long day in the saddle that had followed? He wasn’t sure and could hardly broach the subject with her given her reluctance to even talk to him, but it was evident from her clear aversion to sharing the bed that she had no desire to repeat last night’s intimacies.

The warrior within him refused to allow her to sleep on the chair while he took the bed and slowly bent over her, carefully lifting her into his arms as though she was made of the finest porcelain.

Portia jumped and gasped, staring up into the stern lines of Archie’s face.

“Put me down,” she whispered, her heart hammering in her throat.

“You cannot sleep in the chair,” Archie replied gently, lowering her onto the bed and drawing the turned down sheets over her despite the fact that she was still fully dressed. He didn’t wait for her to protest, merely eased himself down beside her on top the sheets and sighed deeply as the soft mattress seemed to envelope him. Tiredness began to draw him down but he refused to relinquish control. He could feel her eyes staring at him in the darkness and glared darkly at the ceiling.

“I’m not going to touch you tonight, so relax and get some sleep while you can. It has been a long day and tomorrow is going to be even longer. If we
set out early, we can be at Monkton by nightfall, or shortly thereafter.”

He didn’t add that at
Monkton, the food would be plentiful, the beds made with the finest down and the sheets the finest cotton. His staff would see to it that she had everything she wanted, whenever she wanted it, and Portia would have all the time in the world to accept the fact that her future lay with him.

Portia squirmed in the saddle and gasped as the huge beast stumbled beneath her. She hated horses, and would be grateful if she never had to ride on one again. Although it had been liberating to ride astride to begin with, the newness had soon worn off and was replaced by a stiff discomfort that made the insides of her thighs feel bruised. She wasn’t usually a whiner, but nightfall had descended a while ago now and, as far as she could see, there was no castle anywhere near.

“It’s only a few miles now,” Archie declared gently, noting her wince. “When we round the next bend, you shoul
d see the outline of the battlements against the hill over there.” He pointed to the left of them only for Portia to groan.

Archie’s idea of not long now,
and hers, seemed to be completely different. As far as she could tell in the darkness, it would be some time before they arrived at his home. She briefly contemplated getting off and walking, but that would only slow the journey. She shivered as a particularly strong gust of wind swirled around them and she was grateful for the thick woollen cloak Archie had given her.

It should have been soothing to spend this time alone with him. There was nobody for miles around. The only sounds were the clip clopping of the horses
’ hooves on the well worn track, and the rustling of the trees around them. Instead, there was something slightly foreboding about the long narrow stretch of track that seemed to run through the middle of nowhere.

Over the course of the day their conversation had covered various anecdotes from Archie’s childhood mischief, and stories about ghostly sightings at Monkton and the history of the Monkton family. Although Archie was a
Montford, he was the only surviving male distantly related to the Monkton side of the family and had inherited the castle, its lands and considerable wealth. He had been raised in more humble circumstances and found the huge halls of the castle too large, but had felt a sense of responsibility toward the place that he couldn’t ignore. Although his work with the Star Elite took him away for long periods of time, he had a very reliable man of business, as well as a full complement of serving staff to oversee things for him.

Archie was pleased that she had seemed more at ease with him today and was glad that they had been able to spend the day getting to know each other a little more. Although she had not shared much in the way of amusing anecdotes of her own childhood, she had engaged in conversation and asked many questions. It had gone a long way toward convincing Archie that she was indeed the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

He wanted to ask her about her own childhood, but as the day had worn on, hadn’t wanted to bring the shadows back to her beautiful green eyes. She had thrown easy-going smiles at him for the first time, and each time she did so, took his breath with an effortless innocence that made him want to snatch a quick kiss. He doubted that her childhood had had much in the way of laughter, and made a decision to ask her about it when they were married and she was more settled in her new home. Until then, he was just grateful for the easy camaraderie that had settled around them, and nudged his horse after her. 

Portia gasped as she caught sight of the huge castle that seemed to cling to the side of the hill through sheer determination alone. At first glance, the place looked dark and foreboding yet strangely inviting. Candles flickered in only a few rooms but beckoned with weary with the promise of welcoming warmth and hospitality that was impossible to ignore.

“Do they know we are arriving?” Portia asked, following Archie down the long driveway toward the huge, ornately carved front door.

“Nope, but this is my home. Who is likely to object?” Archie jumped down and moved around to help Portia down.

Portia’s feet had no sooner touched the ground that one of the doors opened and a rather officious looking butler appeared in the doorway.

“My l
ord?” Dunscombe gasped, his face alight with a broad smile.

“How are you doing? Kept the roof on
, I see?” Archie smiled, turning toward Portia.

“It is so good to welcome you back,”
Dunscombe gushed, smiling broadly at Archie, then Portia. “You have brought us a beautiful guest too.”

“This is
Dunscombe,” Archie smiled, drawing Portia to stand beside him. “Dunscombe, this lady has been through quite an ordeal and needs the best care we can provide.”

“
Yes, sir,” the butler replied, beckoning to the footmen standing just outside the door and issuing them with a list of instructions. “Follow me.”

Portia didn’t manage to keep the amazement off her face as she followed the man into the castle’s entrance hall, and threw a curious look at Archie as she walked into the large stone hallway. The place had looked huge from the outside; inside it was simply immense. The long row of armour stood
against the far wall, alongside the large sweeping staircase that seemed to go on for miles. She stared hesitantly around at the vast array of armoury and hunting trophies and adorned the walls and shivered.

“You will soon get used to it,” Archie whispered, sensing her disquiet. Easing an arm around her, he drew her against him and felt her shiver.

“My lord, your other guests are in the study.”

Archie froze, and lifted brows at his butler who gave him a knowing look.

Portia didn’t miss the look, but was still struggling with the news that Archie, the affable man who had fought for her with such valour was a lord. Lord Monkton.

“
Miss, if you will follow me?”

Portia’s head was in a whirl and she stared blankly at the young maid who was waiting to escort her upstairs.

“If you need anything, just ring for a maid. I’ll see you in a while,” Archie offered, watching her back as she ascended the stairs. He knew she needed a little time to absorb the enormity of his home, as well as the news of his title. He could still remember his own initial shock upon learning of his huge change of circumstances and histrionics behind his new home. It had taken him months to get used to having servants in the house and he still wasn’t used to hearing anyone call him ‘my lord’. As soon as she had disappeared from view, he headed toward the study.

He knew from
Dunscombe’s face who awaited him, and he was eager to hear the latest news.

Portia had no sooner arrived at her room than Dunscombe appeared with a quiet knock on the door.

“My l
ady, you are required in the study.” Portia stared at him, and looked askance at him.

“Can you take me there? I have no idea where I am.”

Dunscombe smiled, and held the door open for her.

She was a bundle of nerves by the time she
had made her way to the study. The corridors seemed to go on for miles and were lined with door after door. They had turned this way, then the other, and then back again until eventually they arrived at the top of the huge flight of stairs. Although the hallway was vaguely familiar, she still relied on Dunscombe to escort her to the ornately carved study door. Once there, he opened it for her and stood back to allow her through.

Portia walked slowly into the room. Her gaze flew to Archie who stood before the fireplace, his face stern as he studied her.

“Sorry to call you down before you have rested, but I need you to meet my associates.”

Portia’s progress into the room halted at the tall, darkly handsome man who moved toward her. “I’m Simon Ambrose, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He turned and motioned to the sandy haired, debonair man standing just behind him. “This is Sir Hugo
Dunnicliffe.”

“It’
s a pleasure to meet you Portia,” the sandy haired man murmured, waving a hand toward a high backed chair sitting before the fire. “If you would take a seat, we have arranged for a tray of refreshments for you and Archie so you can eat while we talk.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She turned toward Archie, her thoughts immediately turning to Cecily. “Have you heard from Cecily? Is she alright?”

Archie sighed. “The last we heard from Jamie, they are in a place of safety and intend to stay there until it is safe for them to leave.”

“Cecily is alright?”

“She’s fine, Portia,” Archie replied, moving toward her and capturing her hands. She knew something was seriously wrong when he drew her toward the chair beside the fire and handed her a cup of tea.

“What is it?” She saw the almost stark look on his face and took the opportunity as he drew close to study him. Their eyes met and held.

“It’s your father.” Archie carefully handed her a cup of tea, hoping she had the chance to drink it before she dropped it. He was aware of Simon and Hugo coming to sit in the chairs nearby, but ignored them. “I am afraid there is some news about him that you will find a bit of a shock.”

“
What?” Portia gasped. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting him to say, but this wasn’t it. “What has he done?” Her eyes flew from one man to another, seeking clarification.

“He has been arrested.”

Portia gasped, staring in shock at Hugo. “What for?”

“Treason.”
Archie winced. The word seemed so harsh, so abrupt that he hated to even say it, but there was no way of softening the blow.

“My father?
Treason?” She shook her head, giving herself a lecture to stop repeating everything parrot fashion.

“He has been involved with the spy smugglers,” Simon murmured, eyeing her warily.

“He is involved with the spy smugglers; the Guards who tried to kill us?” Her stomach dropped to her toes as Archie nodded slowly. Anger warred with confusion for several long moments as she tried to absorb the enormity of what Archie had told her.

The cold, harsh truth was clearly outlined in the gravity clearly visible on all of their faces. It was true. Her father had been arrested for
being involved in spy smuggling.

Strangely though, her first thought was for the implications this latest news would have on her future with Archie, before being replaced with bitter anger toward her sire. She was so lost in thought that she jumped at the sound of Sir Hugo’s voice.

“We need to ask you some questions about your life in Tissington, and your father’s contacts.”