Capturing Sir Dunnicliffe (The Star Elite Series) (26 page)

Not only had making love to her far ex
ceeded his wildest expectations, but he had not experienced such heights of pleasure with even the most skilled mistress. The mind-numbing need to possess, and ensure her release before finding his own had driven his every movement until he wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. She had responded so willingly, even eagerly, to his advances that her innocent explorations had fuelled his desire for her to the point of madness.

He adored her. It was as simple as that. Whatever the future held for them, t
heir lives were destined to be entwined for eternity; of that he was certain.

Now all he had to do was persuade Harriett
to take a chance on marriage and combine her life with his.

Even if he did
eventually have to arrest her father for attempted murder and spy smuggling. He wondered if her love for him would be enough for her to forgive him if he had to arrest her father. But, if a crime was committed, as an agent for the Crown, he was responsible for ensuring that the culprits were brought to justice.

He could sense Harriett watching him and peered down at
her warily. He could almost see the cogs turning in her head and wondered if he really wanted to know what she was thinking.

“Were you really interested in Romilla?” Although the question was bold, her voice was small, as though she had seriously considered whether she should ask the question that bothered her so.

He was a little shocked that
, after what they had just shared, she still felt the need to ask, and had to bite back the need to sigh in annoyance.

Rolling on to his side, he lifted her leg and draped it over his hip as he moved forward, bringing their hips into intimate contact so she could feel the manhood that refused to be completely appeased.

Her eyes widened.

“I am only a man
, my darling,” he began, searching for the right words. “If I had spent last night in congress with anyone, I would have to be something special to struggle with my continual need for you today. It appears that I am not finished with you yet.” He watched her gasp as realisation dawned that he wanted her again.

“So soon?”

He smiled wolfishly. “Are you sore?”

Harriett considered that for a moment. “A little.”

“Just a little?” Hugo growled, rolling her on to her back and claiming her lips with his as he slid into her. He swallowed her instinctive gasp as he possessed her again and began to rock, all the time watching her for any sign of discomfort or discontent. Her low moan, accompanied by the upward thrust of her hips as they met his thrusts, was all that he needed and he continued to persuade Harriett that she was the only woman he wanted in the only way he knew how.

He ignored the little voice inside that warned him that spending himself inside her twice would undoubtedly seal both of their fates, and gave himself over to the delicious sensations that swept over them.

A long time later, hungrily swallowing her cries, he gritted his teeth as she spasmed around him, until he couldn’t stand it any longer. With a few heavy thrusts, he gave himself up to his own release, burying his face in her neck as he groaned at the sheer pleasure that overwhelmed his senses.

This time Hugo didn’t move from between her legs, allowing his weight to push her into the soft mattress. Aware of her need to breathe
, he lifted himself onto his elbows, and looked down at her.

“From now on we sleep together,” he warned, feeling the last spasms of her release twitch around his manhood.

“We can’t,” Harriett protested. She knew Simon had gone out and would, she hoped, be unaware of this latest turn of events. But she couldn’t in all conscience take part in such wanton behaviour under his roof with him in residence.

“I need to protect you,” Hugo whispered, placing a tender kiss on her lips.

“
This
is protecting me?” she gasped, lifting her hips a little to indicate their still joined bodies.

“Definitely.” He nodded and began to place tender kisses across her shoulder.

“I might be with child.” She hated to state the obvious. He undoubtedly knew the possibilities, but she felt the need to remind him just what she was risking by allowing him such liberties with her body.

“It seems that the apple hasn’t fallen too far from the tree,” she moaned, wondering if she would end up a single mother like Helena.

“On this occasion, the father isn’t going to be driven away by anything or anyone, and although he may have to go away occasionally, he certainly will not be gone for years at a time,” Hugo stated calmly. “We are at war with Napoleon, and people like me are still needed, so I still need to be in the Star Elite, but there are other jobs I can do that aren’t as dangerous, and will mean that I don’t need to go deep undercover and be gone for several months.”

Harriett stared at him. Was this as close to a commitment as she was going to get from him? It wa
s more than she had expected, and although she hadn’t asked him for any promises, a small part of her still felt vaguely disappointed at his lack of declaration of affection toward her.

She had known from the bliss on his face that he had enjoyed making love to her – twice. But did that leave him feeling the need to offer her
crumbs to appease her concerns for her future? She thought he felt guilty for taking her innocence and risking leaving her with child, and was trying to offer her false hope.

Although
part of her was deeply hurt by the possibility, she could understand. It was her fault that she had allowed matters to progress the way they had, and couldn’t blame him entirely for the predicament she was now in. But she was at a loss for how best to handle it. She could cling and demand he offer her promises, or she could let him off the hook.

“I don’t expect anything
, Hugo,” she began, wriggling her hips a little in the hope that he would lift his weight off her. She frowned when he stubbornly refused to move. “I knew what I was doing. We are both adults, after all. I certainly don’t expect promises from you. What is done, is done. Now we can get on with our lives. It was very nice but, given the risks, I simply cannot allow it to happen again.”

She winced a
t how stilted her words sounded - almost like a nanny pointing out the various aspects of her job to an employer - and wasn’t surprised when Hugo scowled darkly at her.

“It most certainly will happen again. If you
are with child – good,” Hugo announced, watching as her eyes flew to his. “I expect you to remain in my bed while we get to the bottom of who is trying to kill you. Then I have the spy smugglers to capture. Then, if we are lucky, we can sort out our future together. Make no mistake, Harriett, by making love with me this afternoon, you have accepted that your future most definitely lies with mine.” With that he gently eased his weight off her and lay beside her, facing her. He placed one large palm on the flat plane of her stomach, stopping her from rolling over and leaving the bed, and him, and effectively ending the conversation.

There was something about her that warned him that she wasn’t
comfortable with what had happened between them, despite her words. He knew he should declare his love for her, and ask her to become his wife, but until he could define some sort of future living he could undertake to provide for her, then he could offer her nothing. At the moment all he had in life was a vast fortune he had spen
t
most of his life amassing, but not spending, and his job within the Star Elite. He wanted to be able to find his place in the area, somewhere for them to live and a future he could offer her before declaring his devotion to her.

“Harriett,
know there is every possibility that you could be with child, but whether you are or not is irrelevant. I now consider you mine, in every sense of the word, and I won’t countenance you encouraging anyone else’s suit, wherever I may be.” His eyes glinted dangerously at her, leaving Harriett feeling almost branded by his possessiveness.

“What about you?” s
he pushed, unwilling to remain the subservient female, expected to wait for him while he disappeared on his travels, doing God knows what, with heaven knew whom.

“I am not a man of double standards,” Hugo warned. “What I expect from you, I will abide by myself.”

“So you will be faithful?” She knew her voice was sceptical.

Hugo’s brows rose as he turned to stare at her. “Believe me, if I want to make love
, you will most definitely be the woman I turn to. Although at this rate, you will need to move out of that tiny cottage of yours, and we will need a bigger house. With plenty of bedrooms, because we are going to be having a lot of children.”

“A lot?” Harriett fought tears at the stoic acceptance in his voice. There was no sign of revulsion or discontent, just a rueful acknowledgement of the facts that he was unable to deny, or change.

“Most definitely.” He paused when his stomach gently reminded him that he hadn’t eaten at all that morning. “Do you want to send down for trays or shall we go downstairs?”

Harriett was
aghast that he would consider sending down for trays and alerting the entire house staff to their activities.

He grinned at her reddened cheeks and dodged the pillow she threw at his head with a
chuckle. “I think we will go downstairs, thank you,” she sniffed pertly, drawing the covers off the bed as she rose and tucking them around her. As she made her way behind the retiring screen she glanced back at the bed, with the naked Hugo lying unabashed in the middle of its huge expanse, and couldn’t prevent a smirk of feminine delight. He looked rumpled, tousled and thoroughly satiated.

“Look at me like that again
, minx, and you won’t be leaving this bed until morning,” he muttered, getting out of bed, gathering his clothing and beginning to dress.

He thoroughly approved of the easy camaraderie that had settled between them
, but knew that although they had been temporarily set aside during the afternoon’s intimacies, the ghosts that plagued both their lives were still hovering, waiting to resurface.

Unfortunately, they resurfaced far quicker than either of them had anticipated. By the time they had dressed, straightened the room and followed the delicious scents wafting up from the kitchens, their teasing laughter had settled into amiable companionship. He openly held her hand as they walked down the sweeping staircase, and seated her at the small table in the sitting room as though she was a delicate princess. It made her giggle – something she had never done before and had never considered she was capable of.

Hugo was delighted with the new Harriett
who had emerged. Apart from the physical differences - her hair looked tousled, her lips looked slightly bruised from the force of his kisses, and her eyes were slumberous as they watched him over the table - there was a relaxed, softer edge to her that he had not seen before. It was as if she was fully relaxed for the first time in her life, and was thoroughly enjoying the moment.  It heightened his pleasure – not only of the afternoon’s love making, but the softer side to her that was emerging.

He almost groaned when Sim
on swept in when they were halfway through their meal. Hugo frowned at him when he entered, and his hand, which was holding the grape to Harriett’s lips, froze as they looked at him.

Simon took one look at the intimate scene that greeted him, at first unsure what to make of it. He had never seen th
at look in Harriett’s eyes before, or the sensual half-smile that still curved her lips. He glared at Hugo for a moment, with no doubt about what they had been up to while he had been in the village. He didn’t know whether to call the man out, or punch him there and then. If it weren’t for the look on Harriett’s face, or the soft smile she sent him that stole his anger, he would have physically thrown the man out of the window beside him. As it was, he refused the chair Harriett offered him, and made his excuses, leaving the room as abruptly as he had entered.

He knew his daughter was old enough to look after herself, but he wanted to remind her
of what had happened between him and Helena; a stark reminder to them all not to let history repeat itself. But a small voice of reason warned him that he had yet to learn if Hugo had asked Harriett to marry him, and that was the reason for her blissful look.

To Simon, she looked like a woman who had spent the day being thoroughly ravished
, and hadn’t protested one bit. He could only hope that he was wrong about Hugo, and his first impressions - that the man was honest and reliable - were indeed accurate, and he fully intended to make an honest woman out of his daughter. If not, then he had a strong suspicion that Harriett was heading toward heartbreak.

The following morning, Harriett woke to the joyful twittering of birds directly outside the window. Sunlight was
streaming through the mullion windows, bathing her in brilliant warmth. She stretched languorously, at that moment blissfully content with her lot in life. Rolling over, she paused and frowned, all contentment vanishing in an instant as she stared at the empty bed beside her.

Last night, although they hadn’t made love again, Hugo had insisted on sharing the bed with her, and she had spent most of the night wrapped in his strong arms, listening to the
beat of his heart as he slept.

She rolled over to face the window again
, disappointed, and immediately noticed a single pink rose on the small table beside the bed, resting beside a small piece of parchment. Quickly sitting up, she unfolded the small missive, her heart pounding in expectation as she read the note. Hugo had gone to meet the rest of the Star Elite and would see her later.

Rising from the bed, she dropped the
parchment into the drawer beside the bed and stood for several moments in a blissful daze, absorbing the delightful aroma of the large pink cabbage rose she held. It was heavenly, and reminded her of a warm summer breeze. A small smile curved her lips, and she felt a thrill of excitement thrum through her veins at his blatant display of affection.

If anyone had told her that yesterday she could spend the afternoon in bed with Hugo, she wo
uld have said it was impossible; she was too angry and disappointed in him. Now? She wasn’t sure exactly where her anger had gone, but she didn’t want it back.

Although she had seen him in an
intimate hold with Romilla, the woman had now gone, and Hugo could have been telling her the truth when he insisted that it had been staged by Romilla. She knew her stepsister hated her, but how had she known Harriett was in the house? A small sliver of doubt began to creep into her happiness, tainting her joy and dimming her smile just a little. She didn’t want to doubt him, and wished she hadn’t seen him with Romilla at all.

Whatever the future held for them, he had made her no promises, especially after last night, and she hadn’t asked him for any. She had made her decision to sleep with him with her eyes wide open, knowing that her future happiness was uncertain. But she loved him too much to refuse him, and had been as swept away by the passion that raged between them as he was, so that she couldn’t have stopped him even if she
had wanted to.

With a sigh, she quickly dressed
, and in answer to her growling stomach, went in search of breakfast.

Later that morning, having shared a companionable meal with her watchful father, Harriett found herself alone again.

Although conversation with Simon at breakfast had been desultory, Harriett knew he had been bursting with questions. She wanted to be able to reassure him that everything was alright, but couldn’t because she didn’t know herself. To say anything would confirm the intimacy between herself and Hugo, and that was something she didn’t want to divulge to her father just yet. It had been somewhat of a relief when her father had made his excuses and left.

Although she had not slept much the night before, she didn’t feel tired, just restless, and tried to find something to do. She didn’t know why she felt restless, but was aware of the growing sense of dread that increased throughout the morning.

She tried to read, several books, but had little interest in any of them.
Wandering around the house, nothing captured her interest. Eventually she decided to collect some of her belongings from her cottage. She had been wearing the same dress since her arrival, and needed something to change into, and while at her cottage she could water her plants, and probably collect some of her papers to work on while she was waiting for Hugo to return.

Simon had been summoned to one of his tin mines and would be gone for most of the day, and Hugo was heaven knows where, so that left her to entertain herself. Something
she was perfectly capable of doing as long as she had the freedom to move about at will. She couldn’t stand the thought of being confined in a house that wasn’t hers while the host was absent; even if the host was her father. Besides, she had no doubt one of the Star Elite was nearby, watching her. She didn’t know if it was her imagination or not, but she could practically feel eyes studying her.

Harriett arrived at her cottage and stood at the end of the garden, studying
her house for several moments. It looked a little ramshackle from the outside, and could do with a lick of paint, but the roof didn’t leak and the door was sturdy enough to keep even the most determined visitor out.

The late morning sunshine felt wonderful on her skin, ba
thing her in a warm glow, and she was loath to go inside, where it was undoubtedly cold and dark. Instead of heading indoors to gather the things she would need for the next couple of days, she wandered aimlessly around the garden, studying her plants, picking out weeds here and there.

It
had only been a few days ago, but the day when Hugo had turned her world upside down seemed such a long time ago now that she wasn’t sure she had adjusted to the changes he had wrought in her life.

She jumped as she turned
to find Mrs Partridge standing behind her, mere feet away.

“Oh, Mrs Partridge, I’m sorry
, I didn’t hear you,” she gasped, glancing curiously at the woman who was staring intently at her.

Harriett watched as, with a visible shake, the woman snapped out of whatever thoughts had absorbed her, and immediately smiled at her. Something about the woman was a little odd,
but Harriett couldn’t make out what it was. It seemed as though her smile was forced, and her eyes a little too hard. What was wrong?

“Are you well?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Mrs Partridge replied in a voice that was somehow different from her usual voice. Again, Harriett couldn’t place what it was, but something made her ill at ease. She suddenly wished that Hugo or her father were there.

She didn’t wan
t to invite Mrs Partridge into her house, but couldn’t expect her to stay outside, and it would be rude to send her on her way without offering even refreshments. Feigning a bright smile, she offered the older woman an overly bright smile and motioned to the house with a wide sweep of one arm.

“
I was just tidying the garden. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“That would be lovely.
I have brought some buns for us to share.” The older lady lifted a covered basket and gave it a gentle shake.

“Lovely,” Harriett replied weakly
, wondering what Mrs Partridge would have done if Harriett hadn’t been there.

As they entered the dim cottage, Harriett wondered if Mrs Partridge baked all the time. It was only yesterday that the woman had been at t
he Manor, bringing several buns with her as a gift. Today she was back again, with more buns.

Unable to stand the darkness
within the kitchen, Harriett drew the shutters wide and quickly lit the fire, putting a pot of water on to boil while she prepared the tea things. She was only vaguely aware of Mrs Partridge opening the lid of the basket, and placing two napkins on the table, and a bun on each napkin. The scent of currants, and something else, hung in the air. But instead of having a tantalising affect on her taste buds, her stomach began to turn over.

She was fighting a wave of sickness, leaning against the dresser
, while Mrs Partridge carefully displayed a hideous-looking wool thing on the table.

“I do hope you like your new shawl,” Mrs Partridge murmured, standing back to study the
ugly brown and orange object.

Harriett had never seen anything so a
wful in her life, and had a sneaking suspicion that even Harrold would turn up his nose at sleeping on the ridiculous looking object. It didn’t even have straight sides, and was so uneven that it looked as if it had been made in the dark. Politeness demanded that she paste a smile on her face and murmur appreciative noises to the watchful Mrs Partridge, who seemed pleased that Harriett was suitably impressed with her dexterity with knitting needles.

She didn’t think anything of the needles that now lay on the table, on top of the hideous looking
shawl, and turned to pour the tea. Moments later she sat on the opposite side of the table to her visitor, and stared down at the bun cautiously. Now she could smell something stronger underlying the currants and knew she had smelled it once before. Unless she was mistaken, it was the scent of mushrooms. Her logic told her that she must be mistaken. One didn’t put mushrooms in currant buns, and she frowned as she studied the bread on her tea plate.

“Eat your bun
, dear, I do hope you like them,” Mrs Partridge urged, sipping her tea.

Obligingly, despite her queasiness,
Harriett broke off a piece.

“Where is your Hugo?”

“Oh, he has gone away on business. He should be back later,” Harriett replied, glad of the brief respite. Eventually though, the time came when she had to place the small piece of the offending bun in her mouth. Immediately a strange taste exploded in her mouth and she stared up at Mrs Partridge, who was fingering her knitting needles absently while staring at Harriett.

“Hello, Mrs Partridge,” Hugo said, approaching the lady from behind. He lengthened his stride and caught up with her as she approached the front door of the house.

“Oh, hello Mr Dunnicliffe,” Mrs Partridge replied. Although her tone was friendly enough, her eyes were less so.

Hugo frowned, wondering if the woman was aware he had thrown her buns in the fire yesterday.

“Are you looking for Harriett?” It was an obvious question, and he wasn’t surprised when the older woman confirmed that indeed she was. “Let’s go and find her then, shall we?” He didn’t wait for the older lady to follow him, and wasn’t surprised to find her behind him when he opened the front door and stood back to allow her to enter.

Once inside they were met by the butler.

“Where’s Harriet?” Hugo asked, taking a moment to study the old woman, and the basket she held. More buns?

“I’m afraid she isn’t here sir. She left about an hour ago for her cottage, sir.”

Hugo scowled, not at all pleased that his request for Harriett to remain indoors had been ignored.

“I’ll come back later then,” Mrs Partridge replied, turning toward the door and disappearing out of the door without so much as a ‘goodbye’.

Hugo shrugged and turned to the butler. “Where’s Simon?”

“He has gone to one of the mines, sir,” the butler intoned politely.

Hugo sighed at his ill luck. He had planned to inform Simon of Romilla’s disguise, but as the house was empty, decided to make the most of searching Simon’s room for clues instead.

Taking the steps two at a time, he turned his thoughts to what he should do next. Earlier that morning he had met with Jamie, who had reported that Pierre and Marguerite were moving. Jonathan had been summoned to drive the coach they were to their next location. The timing was awful and left Hugo with a desperate problem.

He hated the thought of having to leave Harriett yet, especially when matters were so unsure between them. But in all conscience he had to keep an eye on the spy smugglers, not only for the safety of the country, but the lives of his men were in jeopardy. That left him with a massive problem of how to keep Harriett safe while he was gone
.

With a quick glance up and down the empty corridor, he disappeared into Simon’s room. Half an hour later, he paused with a frown and stared at the now empty driveway. His thoughts turned to Mrs Partridge and their meeting in the driveway. There had been something unusual about the woman – something unusual, and very disturbing.

“Oh my god,” Hugo growled, staring in horror at the pale ribbon of drive that disappeared in the direction of Padstow. “The wheezing,” he didn’t stop to think and burst out of the house seconds later, tearing across the garden toward Harriett’s cottage like a man possessed.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Harriett felt everything within her freeze in horror as she stared at the offending – and very poisonous – bun before her. Immediately she spat out the bun, aware too late that the strange taste was the same one she had tasted when she ate the poisoned apple pie, and was indeed mushrooms. Poisonous ones.

It dawned on her then what was different about Mrs Partridge. The seemingly elderly woman was now standing upright, and had walked proudly into the cottage. There was no trace of the previous shuffling movement the woman had used before. Her breathing was also as clear as Harriett’s with no sign of her usual wheezing and gasping.

“Why?” Harriett gasped, staring in horror across the table at the woman who had tried to kill her.

“Eat it!
” Mrs Partridge’s voice had lost all bonhomie, and was laced with malice that made Harriett shiver.

“No.” Harriett pushed the plate toward t
he woman, one eye on the wicked-looking tips of the knitting needles.

“What have I ever done to you?” Harriett’s heart began to pound
.