Capturing Sir Dunnicliffe (The Star Elite Series) (29 page)

Harriett did as she was told and
jumped toward the opening, a loud screech from Marguerite echoing in her ears.

Harriett’s
feet had no sooner hit the ground than Hugo launched himself across the seat at Pierre. He was heavier and stronger than the Frenchman, and easily twisted the hand holding the gun toward Marguerite. Pierre’s instinctive tightening on the gun inadvertently set it off, with a loud retort that made the horses jerk.

Marguerite immediately slumped forward in her seat, blood pouring from the hole in her head.

Sensing nobody holding them, the horses lunged and the carriage began to move forward.

The heavily garbed man
standing beside Harriett swore loudly and took off after the swaying carriage, only just managing to cling on to the rear box seat as the carriage careered wildly along the narrow lanes.

Harriett stared around her for a moment,
unsure what to do. She was now completely alone. Abandoned by the side of the road. The horses were now galloping, giving her no chance of catching up. Although she couldn’t see where she was, they hadn’t travelled too far from her cottage. Immediately her thoughts turned to a possibly injured Rupert, and she set off in that direction.

Her only consolation was the knowledge that Hugo had another man
with him who seemed to be working for him rather than against him. Although, as heavily garbed as he was, it was difficult to tell. Her fear for Hugo was far stronger, far worse than the terror she had felt when Mrs Partridge had tried to drag her over the cliff with her.

She began to pray for Hugo’s safety and, with little choice, turned
toward her cottage in the hope that Rupert wasn’t already dead.

Silence settled over the carriage as both men struggled to keep their ba
lance against the wild swinging of the conveyance as it tore through the countryside.

Hugo frowned at the strange thumps coming from the roof and wondered if Jonathan was having
problems getting the horses under control. He knew from his associate stopping the carriage as instructed, that the small, wiry Frenchman had been subdued.

Marguerite was slumped forward, wrapped in the arms of death. Her head was twisted toward them, her eyes staring sightlessly at them in a death stare.

Hugo knew the woman’s death would enrage Pierre further, and he had another shot he planned to use on Hugo. The carriage door banged rhythmically against the side of the carriage as it swung open, echoing hollowly around them like imitation gunshots. The hedgerow flashing past was so close that branches occasionally burst into the carriage before being swept back out again. There was no possibility of escape for the time being.

Hugo drew back his fist and landed it squarely in the other man’s face. Immediately blood splattered over the inside of the carriage
to join Marguerite’s blood. It was everywhere; over the floor and them. The metallic scent stung his nostrils but Hugo knew that, if he didn’t fight, his blood would join the carnage.

“Vous allez mourir,” Pierre growled, his eyes wide with fury.

“Pas aujourd’hui,” Hugo replied, dodging the meaty fist that was swung at his head as he grabbed Pierre’s hand that was holding the gun and ferociously drove it against the seat. The sound of bones cracking, accompanied with Pierre’s curse, were loud in his ears. “Vous irez à la potence.”

It was difficult to fight in a swaying carriage
. Fists missed their targets mainly because of the men’s inability to maintain their balance, and eventually they simply grappled with each other. Hugo swore as he was slammed down onto the seat, Pierre leaning over him with his ruthless hands wrapped around his neck. Stars exploded behind his eyes as he stared up at the hate-filled face of the man leaning over him.

Unable to prise the cruel fingers off, he lifted his legs and kicked hard. The loud ‘oomph’ of air leaving the man
’s body was enough to break his ruthless hold. Pushing both hands roughly into the man’s stomach, Hugo pushed and kicked the man off, and kept kicking when Pierre stood clutching his bruised stomach.

Sensing victory, Hugo ducked his head and rammed
it into the Frenchman, sending them both crashing out of the door.

Hugo had a sense of flying for one brief moment
, and almost in slow motion, saw a break in the hedgerow revealing a five-barred gate. Pierre landed heavily on the gate before catapulting over the top, where he landed on his head in the field beyond.

Hugo
was partly buried in a bristly thorn bush, swearing as the spikes scored his flesh.

The carriage continued to barrel down the narrow road, Jonathan
still struggling to climb over the roof. Hugo watched it go, and slowly eased himself out of the bushes. Brushing himself down, he glanced back down the road where they left Harriett. The urge to go after her was strong, but he couldn’t leave Pierre by the side of the road, and possibly let him escape. He had no doubt the Frenchman would simply vanish, protected by the network of people who sheltered the spies, and he had valuable information Hugo was not prepared to let go.

Climbing the gate, he unsheathed the small knife tucked in his boot and cautiously approached the man lying on the
ground. He could see the steady rise and fall of his chest but wasn’t about to be caught out twice in one day. He thought about roll the man over when the rumbling of carriage wheels broke the silence. He turned to see the familiar black carriage come back toward him, Jonathan at the reins.

“
Are you all right?” Jonathan asked, jumping down and studying the man at Hugo’s feet. He grabbed Pierre roughly by the shoulder and rolled him on to his back. A quick check confirmed that he was out cold, but not dead.

Hugo vaulted over the fence and cut off two long pieces of the reins, handing them over the gate to Jonathan
, who secured them around Pierre’s hands and feet while Hugo opened the gate. Together they threw the Frenchman into the dark recesses of the carriage.

“What do you want to do about her?” Jonathan asked,
nodding at Marguerite.

“Leave her there for
now; we need to pick up the other man,” Hugo warned, climbing up onto the box seat next to Jonathan. “I take it you know where you left him?” he asked dryly, shaking his head when Jonathan merely grinned at him. Hugo had no doubt Jonathan had dispatched the small Frenchman with the same ruthless efficiency he himself had shown Pierre.

“Sort of.”

“He is dead, I take it?” Hugo hoped so. The thought of another Frenchman running around out there with Harriett unprotected left him cold.

“I should think so,”
Jonathan replied, slicing his hand in a cutting motion across his throat from one ear to another.

“Excellent
. Let’s go and clear up, then we need to get back to Harriett’s house. I think Rupert has been shot.”

He sensed
, rather than saw, Jonathan’s startled look before he flicked the reins and the horses began to trot faster.

They stopped only to pick up the body of the smaller man who
m Jonathan had dispatched earlier, and added him to the body count inside the carriage.

“We have some explaining to do,” Jonathan replied ruefully, shaking his head as he closed the carriage door.

“Whose carriage is it?”

“Damned if I know,” Jonathan muttered
, tugging off the numerous scarves wrapped around his neck and lower face. “I am so glad to get rid of these blasted things.” He glared at the strips of wool and threw them on the box seat in disgust.

“You were much prettier with them on,” Hugo replied with a smirk, blithely ignoring the epithet the other man sent his way.

It took them far too long to get to Harriett’s house as far as Hugo was concerned. All the time they were travelling he was scouring fields and hedgerows around them for any sign of her. Various scenarios filtered through his mind until he was bristling with frustration by the time Jonathan pulled the horses to a halt in front of the small stone cottage.

Both men, eager to discover Rupert’s condition
, immediately jumped down and ran round to the back of the cottage.

Hugo thrust
the door open, a dark scowl on his face as he scanned the kitchen in search of her. He almost slumped with relief when Harriett appeared at the end of the hallway, some sort of green gunk over her hands.

“Oh Hugo, thank God!” s
he gasped, running down the hallway toward him, a mixture of fear and elation on her face.

He caught her
, buried his face in her hair and simply breathed in her essence. He was only vaguely aware of Jonathan skirting around them and walking down the small hallway, and simply relished the feel of her in his arms.

“
What happened? Are you hurt?” Her voice trembled as she studied him. He was covered in bits of twigs and leaves, but otherwise seemed relatively unharmed.

“I’m fine
, darling. I’m sorry I had to leave you by the side of the road, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you being in so much danger,” he said, studying her carefully. She looked alive, and fresh and wonderfully beautiful. He was almost humbled by the knowledge that she was his.

A
strange, herby scent coming from behind him invaded his senses and he looked at her hands.

“Is that for Rupert?”

“Yes, he’s in the bedroom.”

Hugo scowled. “You have been alone, here, with one of my men in your bedroom?”

Harriett rolled her eyes and stepped out of his arms. “He’s injured.”

“That might be so, but still
–” He stomped down the corridor, eager to see Rupert’s condition for himself.

“She’s an angel,” Rupert said when Hugo entered. “I may just marry her myself.” He winked at Harriett and winced as his bruised head objected to the movement.

Harriett rolled her eyes and felt her cheeks heat.

“
Join the queue,” Hugo growled, watching as Harriett continued to apply the mixture to a lump on Rupert’s forehead.

“It feels better already,” Rupert moaned.

“Here, drink this,” Harriett said, handing him a small cup of a brownish mixture.

Rupert studied it for a moment before downing it in one go. “It doesn’t taste of anything,” he reported, frowning down into the cup. “What was it?”

“It’s a blend of plants and herbs that will help ease the headache and reduce the swelling.”

“
What happened?” Hugo growled at Rupert, delighted that his men had readily accepted Harriett and her abilities, even to the point of allowing her to treat them.

“I came around the side of the cottage, and found a little Frenchie standing by the back door. I lunged at him and we traded a few punches. He pull
ed a gun on me but I wrestled it off him - but not before it went off. It was only a little thing with one shot, and I eventually got it off him and threw it across the garden.” He frowned at Hugo. “It should be collected.”

Hugo nodded and told him to carry on.

“Well, I tripped over something, I think it was a water trough, and must have hit my head on my way down, because I don’t remember anything else. The next thing I knew Harriett was standing over me, holding something to my head.”

“He was still bleeding from the cut on his
head.” Harriett added with a frown. “The Frenchman must have thought that he would remain out cold, and either bleed to death or not come round. Clearly, at the time there was a lot going on and the man could have thought Rupert was no longer a threat, so left him.” 

“Sounds like it to me,” Rupert replied, impressed with her cool logic. The more he
saw of Harriett, the more he realised that she was a perfect match for someone like Hugo. Most women would have had a fit of the vapours being faced with half of what this woman had been through, yet she seemed to retain her grace and decorum throughout the worst of times. He was impressed, and more than a little envious of Hugo’s luck.

“Given these two
have ignored me, let me introduce
myself
,” Jonathan said, easing away from his position beside the window. He had seen enough to know that a lot had happened while he had been undercover, and it wasn’t all bad - if Harriett was anything to go by.

“I’m Jonathan Arbinger.” H
e glanced warily at Harriett’s hands before shrugging and dipping low to peck her on the cheek. He grinned unrepentantly when Hugo coughed in warning. “Well, I can hardly shake her hand now, can I?”

Harriett smiled,
inwardly delighted that Hugo had enough affection for her to be more than a little possessive.

“Welcome to the Star Eli
te,” Jonathan added with a smile that made Harriett blink and Hugo sigh – loudly.

He wanted to refute her involvement in the Star Elite; to sweep her up and run back to the Manor, away from any hint of her being acknowledged as one of them
- but he knew it was already too late. She was already one of them. The men had accepted her and her capabilities without question. Not once over the past few weeks had anyone objected at being asked to watch over her, and had taken their turn on watch with the same level of professionalism and dedication that they applied to any other task they were given.

He had sensed, rather than heard, the anger they had all felt when Harriett had almost been run over, and had been aware
that they had doubled the watches so she had two sets of eyes, rather than the habitual one, on her – until today when the spy smugglers had started to move and they had all been scrambled to follow.

“Was it Mrs Partridge who tried to break into my house that night?” Harriett asked, after listening to several moments of desultory conversation. She was standing beside the window, studying the window frame beside her thoughtfully.

“Yes, it was. She went back to Padstow, but I lost her near to her house,” Rupert acknowledged ruefully.

“I was watching Chambard and his mother at St Issey and Archie was watching your father, who was in the tavern at St Issey.”

Harriett shook her head, wondering who was watching them! 

“Have you got Mrs Partridge back yet?” Rupert glanced first at Harriett, then at Hugo.

“Erm, no, we have been a bit busy,” Hugo replied, updating everyone on the events in the carriage.

Rupert
whistled appreciatively. He knew something major must have happened for Jonathan to come out of deep cover, and be standing so unperturbed in Harriett’s cottage.

“J
onathan can update you about what we are going to do next. Harriett, might I have a quick word with you?”

Hugo waited to follow her out of the room, closing the door behind him. Although Harriett already knew what had happened, there were other parts of the investigation that he didn’t want her
to be aware of.