On the Great North Road, bound for
Nottinghamshire
Fliss stretched out her aching neck and opened the carriage curtains. The sharp shard of sunlight made her wince and drop it back in place. This was the second sunrise she had witnessed in this carriage and the second night she had attempted to snatch a few hours of sleep on the uncomfortable bench as it sped north, barely stopping long enough to change the horses and fill their bellies with food.
As uncomfortable as the three ladies were, every mile away from London couldn’t come soon enough. The more miles the better. Each one helped to relieve the enormous knot of fear which had formed in her chest when she had first learned she was a loose end to be tied and had doubled when she had learned that the Londoner had murdered her uncle for the very same reason and probably within hours of Fliss’s epic escape.
Since then, the whole world had been turned upside down. At least that’s what it felt like. She was no longer a naïve schoolmistress from Cumbria or an unlikely spy for his Majesty’s government. Now she was a target. The only person still alive who could identify her uncle’s murderer and his links to the dangerous underworld he had become involved in.
When the astounding news came that Uncle Crispin had been found hanging in his study within hours of her watching him, nobody believed it was suicide. Not when there were meaty hand-shaped bruises apparent beneath the silken bell-pull wrapped around his neck. Uncharitably Fliss knew he would have happily seen Daphne, Cressida and herself garrotted by convenient footpads to save his own skin. When push came to shove, he might have even done the deed himself, he was that cold and self-serving. So she couldn’t find it in her heart to grieve for him and fully blamed him for the danger she now found herself in. There was no room in her mind for grief; having a price on one’s head was petrifying.
Thank the Lord she had escaped and fled to Jake’s, because he had been reassuringly adamant about her continued safety since Lord Fennimore, Mr Leatham and Lord Flint had arrived that morning at the Albany. At his insistence, they had left the capital that morning. The carriage they were travelling in bore the colours of the Post, so the sight of it speeding up the Great North Road would not arouse suspicion. Knowing he and Mr Leatham were driving it, that they were both heavily armed and that a huge escort travelled both ahead and behind them also made her feel better, although only marginally. Until she was safely locked within the fortress he had assured her he had grown up in, and many, many weeks had passed, she doubted the crippling and all-consuming fear would begin to subside. Lord Fennimore was hopeful Fliss’s final destination was obscure enough to be safe but, with what was highly likely to be an enormous bounty for her whereabouts, there was still the chance somebody might tell them she had gone first to the Albany and then from there perhaps they would link her to Jake.
Another group was being led by Flint and headed further north to Sister Ursuline’s, to evacuate the school and lay in wait should the Londoner attempt to search for her there. Local battalions of Excise Men were also being drafted in to stand guard in Cumbria. Both Jake and Mr Leatham were of the belief the shadowy criminal behind it all, the elusive Boss, had men or informants from within their ranks and so involving the Excise Men while neglecting to apprise them of her true location would lure the men to the convent and ultimately to their arrest.
As the carriage began to slow, Cressida stirred beside her and gazed bleary-eyed around the dim carriage. ‘Where are we?’
‘I have no idea, but it’s morning.’ Fliss lifted the curtain again and forced her tired eyes to adjust to the brightness. They were no longer on a main road. The narrow lane was flanked on either side by dense trees. Eventually, a twenty-foot wall loomed in the distance. When they passed through it there was an orchard, orderly lines of trees echoing with the sounds of children’s laughter. The carriage came to a halt and Jake jumped down. For the first time since they had begun this arduous journey, neither he nor Mr Leatham had warned them to keep the curtains closed as they had at the busy inns they had stopped at.
Fliss took the opportunity to lower the window and poke her head out. Their scruffy-looking entourage rattled past the giant, sturdy gates which stood wide open. As the last cart of Mr Leatham’s Invisibles trundled through, Jake, Leatham and several men began to close them. It reassuringly took a great deal of strength.
‘I think you might be lost...this is private land.’ A man the spitting image of Jake, only slightly older, limping and draped with little dark-haired girls, approached the carriage. His deep blue eyes flicked to hers first, then towards the gate. ‘Jake? Is that you?’ The sight of his brother sporting several days’ worth of beard and dressed in the red uniform of the Post men clearly amused him. ‘Our big brother will be pleased that you’ve finally got yourself a job.’ His face fell when he saw the gates shut and he instantly wrapped his arms around his daughters. ‘What’s wrong?’
Jake strode towards his brother and hugged him. ‘Too complicated to explain here. Where are Jack and Joe?’
‘Both at home as far as I know as it’s early, but you know Joe.’
‘Round them up, Jamie. I’ll see them inside.’ With that he climbed back in the driver’s seat and the carriage lurched forward again.
Within minutes they had reached an impressive Tudor manor house and were met by servants at the door. Another dark haired and blue-eyed man came to greet Jake with a beautiful woman still in her dressing gown. A riot of blonde corkscrew curls hung loose over her shoulders. As the men talked she came towards them smiling. ‘I’m Letty Warriner—Jake’s sister-in-law. I can see you are exhausted. Come. Let us get you inside. Chivers, our butler, will fetch tea.’
After that, Fliss and the Sawyer sisters were made a huge fuss of. Hot tea and breakfast came in quick succession, which Fliss fell upon gratefully, and then sighed with relief when she was shown into a beautiful bedchamber. A steaming bath had been drawn and wafted a deliciously floral scent about the room. A selection of clean clothes and a beautiful embroidered nightrail had also been laid out.
‘Jake said you haven’t slept properly for days, so if you want to sleep then please go ahead and do so. We are very informal here.’ Letty laid a soft hand on her shoulder and it appeared to have the power to trigger the waterworks. Tears streamed down Fliss’s cheeks and, to her acute embarrassment, she couldn’t appear to stop them.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Oh, don’t be. You’ve been through an ordeal. I was kidnapped once, so I completely sympathise. I’ve often thought female tears are more a release of pent-up anger and frustration rather than a sign of weakness and from what I can gather you have been quite brave enough so far.’
Another woman burst through the door at that exact moment, copper hair tied back in a single ribbon and her freckled face smiling. ‘Apparently we are in the midst of a crisis, or so my curmudgeonly husband tells me, so I brought cake. I know it’s early but everything is better with cake, don’t you think? I’m Cassie Warriner and I made this myself.’ The sight of the charmingly wonky concoction only made Fliss’s tears worse and she began to hiccup and snort as she wept into the pretty handkerchief her hostess had just pressed into her hand. ‘Clearly I’ve arrived just in time. I’ve sent Chivers for more tea. You can’t have cake without tea.’ Unfazed by her overtly emotional state, Cassie wrapped an arm about her shoulders and squeezed. ‘Get it all out. Bottling stuff up inside is never good. Bella will be here soon. She’s finding mornings a bit trying at the moment.’
The butler scratched at the door and didn’t blink an eyelid at Fliss’s grizzling as he deposited the second tea tray on the bedside table. He was closely followed by a dark-haired woman who looked worryingly green around the gills. ‘Sorry I’m late to the party. I am counting the days till this morning sickness fades. Joe is adamant that it’s not unusual for it to continue past three months and it’s at least four months now and the slightest thing sets me off. Is that cake?’ She eyed it suspiciously. ‘Move it out of the way, Cassie, or I will disgrace myself in front of our guest.’ A guest who would welcome some company in the disgracing. ‘My goodness, you look pale...’
A large black medical bag appeared out of nowhere and the third Warriner wife rifled in it. She produced three bottles. The first two she measured out on a teaspoon and dropped in Fliss’s tea. ‘A few drops of these should help with your mood. Gorse relieves despair and willow apparently eases the tendency towards self-pity. I mixed them with plenty of sugar so even if their therapeutic abilities are dubious they will make your tea taste nice. But this...’ Bella grinned and wiggled the third bottle ‘...is heaven in the bath.’ She pulled out the cork and, after depositing the whole bottle into the steaming tub, the scent of lavender tickled Fliss’s nostrils. ‘A nice cup of tea in the bath is just what you need.’
‘I happen to think my cake in the bath will be more beneficial than your grass in her tea, Bella.’ Cassie Warriner was already sawing off a slice which she placed on the side table she had dragged next to the bathtub, next to Fliss’s tea. ‘And then when you are fully refreshed we shall all gather again and get to know each other.’
‘Yes,’ said Letty as the three walked towards the door. ‘We are all intrigued to learn about your dealings with our dear brother Jake. None of us has ever seen him quite so...ferocious before.’
* * *
Joe was the last to arrive and took his place at the scarred kitchen table where they had always held important discussions. In the hours since Jake had come home, they hadn’t pressed him for information, merely aided him in making the grounds secure without questioning why. That solid, loyal reinforcement was exactly the reason he had brought Fliss here. When you messed with one Warriner, you messed with them all and together they had always been a force to be reckoned with, although he was dreading telling them all he’d been lying about for five long years.
Jack’s quirked eyebrow signalled they had waited long enough. ‘Why have we battened down the hatches and why is there a small army encamped on my lawn?’
‘I’ve not been being entirely honest with you all.’
‘You don’t say?’ His elder brother folded his arms across his chest, a sure sign his patience was wearing thin. ‘There are a lot of guns out there for a mail coach. What the hell are you involved in?’
There was no easy way of saying. ‘I suppose the best way of explaining it is to tell you that I’ve been working for the government. I have been since Cambridge. I belong to a secret branch called the King’s Elite. We work with the Home Office, the Foreign Office and alongside the Excise Men tracking large-scale smuggling operations.’
Two pairs of blue eyes stared back at him agog. Only Jamie didn’t appear the least bit surprised. But then only Jamie had alluded to knowing the truth before.
‘And you’ve done this for five years?’
‘Yes, Jack. I was recruited almost as soon as I left university.’
‘Why?’
Now came the part he was dreading. ‘They recognised that some of my skills might be useful in procuring difficult information.’ A painfully convoluted and shoddy description which he hoped might be enough. Typically, Jamie understood straight away because he’d done similar in the Peninsula, although he had nobly kept his clothes on.
‘So you are a spy?’
‘You’re a spy!’ Joe was flabbergasted.
‘That’s the long and short of it, yes.’
There was a painful beat of silence while they all digested this, and then, of course, came the narrowed eyes. ‘What skills?’ Because Jack knew he possessed few and frequently lamented his lack of attempting to acquire more.
‘My way with the...ah...ladies.’ Saying it out loud made him feel like a doxy for hire, only it was the crown, not a client, who left the money on his nightstand.
‘You lucky devil!’ Joe threw his head back and laughed. ‘Only you would land a job which allowed you to be horizontal most of the time.’ He slapped him on the back jovially. ‘All these years we’ve nagged you about being a rake isn’t a career and all the while it was! That’s priceless. You’ve always had the luck of the devil.’
‘I wouldn’t call myself lucky. I hardly had a choice as to whom I...’ Oh, good grief, this was painful. For years he had told himself he was pleased with being a rake. He got to enjoy women without any of the messy complications, but now he felt sordid—a shameful philanderer, just as Fliss had first said.
‘The young lady upstairs, I take it she is one of your assigned conquests?’ Jack didn’t appear the slightest bit amused at his confession.
‘Yes. No!’ Jake ran an angry hand through his hair. ‘It’s complicated. I was sent to seduce her. Her uncle was involved in a major smuggling ring which we believe is funding Napoleon’s supporters. We had been trying for months to get deep into his inner circle and I was drafted in when they dragged Fliss into the mess.’
‘Fliss?’ Another cocked eyebrow. ‘How very cosy. Does she know you bedded her on the King’s shilling or are we expected to help you perpetuate the charade?’ As the devoted father of four girls, Jamie’s stormy expression conveyed his outrage at such a situation perfectly.
‘I haven’t bedded her and, if you must know, at this point in the proceedings I am highly unlikely to.’ Getting her to actually talk to him would be something. He and Fliss hadn’t exchanged anything other than essential words in days. It was as if she had erected an invisible yet impenetrable wall around herself, one which let most people in except Jake. This morning she had barely looked at him and the widening chasm between them was killing him. ‘She currently loathes me because she learned about the King’s blasted shilling. I wish I knew what to do to fix that!’ Three pairs of dark eyebrows rose at his frustrated tone and Jake wished he couldn’t speak fluent eyebrow, or that the world would suddenly be completely eyebrow free and thus spare him from reading the meaning of one ever again. Embarrassed, he went on the defensive. ‘Anyway, whether or not I bedded her is by the by. She’s in danger. Grave danger and it’s all my fault!’
They listened intently as he told them all about Rowley, the murderous Londoner and the mysterious and ever-elusive Boss. Jake left nothing out of the whole sordid story, knowing that each of them deserved to know the full truth because he was bringing that danger to their door. Their families. His family. To their credit, none of his brothers passed comment when he told them how he had sought Fliss out, how he had teased information out of her or how he had allowed her to walk alone into the lion’s den after he had promised her he would help her. Three awful truths where he wished with all his heart he had behaved more honourably—as the three of them would have undoubtedly done in his shoes. By the end of the tale, he hoped he had adequately and dispassionately conveyed the seriousness of the situation. ‘If you want me to move her, I completely understand. Just let us rest here for a few hours because I am dead on my feet and I can’t protect her properly if I am not on my game.’
Everyone looked to Jack to make the decision, just as they had always looked to Jack their whole lives, and he made them wait while he considered all the ramifications. ‘This affects you all. Jamie’s and Joe’s houses lie within the walls of Markham Manor.’ Both men nodded slowly. ‘If we do this—and it’s a big if at this stage—then I think it’s safest you all move back into the main house until the danger is past. It might also be prudent to attempt to convince the ladies to move away temporarily. For their safety.’ The second nod was less decisive as all three knew there was little chance of dislodging their devoted and determined spouses. Especially if they banded together, as they were prone to do, and dug their heels in. More silent seconds ticked by until his eldest brother pinned Jake with his stare. ‘Give me one good reason why we should invite trouble to our door for a stranger.’
‘Fliss is...she is...’ Emotion clogged Jake’s throat.
‘You love her.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘With all my heart.’
All three sighed in that matter-of-fact way he also loved about them and regarded him with pity. Joe and Jamie simultaneously wrapped strong arms about his shoulders while Jack huffed out a deep breath. ‘Then I suppose we need to start the preparations for a potential siege. Jamie, dust off your arsenal, I fear we might need it, and then we’ll tackle the ladies. I suspect your smugglers might be easier to defeat.’