Captive Surrender (13 page)

Although he had been sent
to Levant to gather evidence on the man’s connections to French
spies, he had a duty to protect the public, and that included
Prudence and her family. His thoughts turned to Rufus, and he
mentally applauded the magistrate’s willingness to do his bit. If
only he could speak to the man and gain his confidence, Rufus could
ensure that messages to Hugo were despatched as securely as
possible, while Stephen remained in the house to protect the
family. He had already checked Rufus Denbigh’s background when he
had first arrived, and he had proven to be a very solid pillar of
the community. If there was anyone in the area who he knew he could
count on, it was Rufus.

Now, if only he could get
off the bed, he could see to his needs and try to get Prudence to
release him.

“
Prudence,”
Stephen growled. He waited and scowled when she showed no sign of
having heard him. “Prudence!” He bellowed and immediately cursed as
shafts of pain exploded over the top of his head.

“
What? Oh,
heavens above,” Prudence whispered, one hand clutched tightly
against her heart. Even though her eyes were open, they were as
slumberous and confused as the rest of her.

Stephen groaned, although
wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of his injuries or the sight
of her sitting so close, looking so sleepily befuddled. He willed
himself to keep hold of his patience and heaved a breath to steady
his anger. If he started to rant at her, he would undoubtedly be
tied to the bloody bed for the next decade, and would be found by
his colleagues in the Star Elite, a wizened old man who was as
batty as Prudence’s mother.

“
I need
help,” Stephen grumbled, and eyed her balefully. He refused to
explain what his problem was. It galled him to think that he had to
ask any female for help, especially this one, whose good opinion of
him mattered so much.

“
Yes, you
do,” Prudence sighed around a yawn. “Are you in pain?” She gasped
when the last vestige of sleep left her and she realised he was
awake, and blazingly angry from the look of the dark scowl he was
giving her.

“
I need you
to untie me from this blasted bed.”

“
I am afraid
I will do no such thing,” Prudence replied with an affronted
sniff.

As though she
would be that stupid,
she snorted
disparagingly. She had no doubt that he wanted her to take pity on
him and untie him. She had first-hand experience of just how
devious he could be. This time though, unfortunately for him, she
had kept the heavy piece of driftwood she had used on him on the
beach, and would have no compunction against using it again if he
chose to be a difficult patient.

It wasn’t lost on her
that nobody had decided yet what they were going to do with him.
They could hardly untie him and run. How could they get him out of
the house without any one of them being in significant danger?
Unfortunately, though, they couldn’t leave him tied to the bed
indefinitely. At some point he would have to do – erm – things, and
he would need to be fed. She had enough work to do looking after
her mother, she had no intention of being a maid a fully grown male
who was perfectly capable of looking after himself. She would have
thrown him out of the house right there and then, if only she could
be certain that he would have gone.

Valiantly turning her
gaze away from the expanse of broad chest visible above the white
sheet, she looked down at him. It made her feel somewhat safer to
be on her feet around this man, which was ridiculous really because
he was tied tighter than Mr Cresswell’s donkey.

“
I need to do
something,” Stephen sighed, wondering which was worse; the
desperate urge to use the chamber pot, or the ache in his
head.

“
I am sure
that you do, but it will have to wait until morning.”

Stephen scoffed at that
and gave her a glare that she blithely ignored. “I am not going to
wait that long. You either untie me now, or I will wreck this bed.”
He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to manage that, but put
enough menace in his tone to warn her that he was barely containing
his anger and disgust, and she would rue the day that he unleashed
it on her.

Prudence, blasted female
that she was, appeared to be completely oblivious to the threat of
danger, and merely cast him a dirty look as she moved toward the
fireplace where she placed more logs onto the embers before she sat
down in the rocking chair. Bathed in a golden glow from the fire,
she looked almost angelic, but he wondered if she had been sent
from hell to torment him.

Totally exasperated,
Stephen glared at her for several long moments. Threats didn’t
work. He couldn’t do much in the way of seduction. Being tied to
the bed was all well and good; he was willing to give anything a go
as much as the next man, but would need Prudence a hell of a lot
closer to have any fun at all. He studied the mulish tilt to her
chin. She was most definitely the head of the household and had a
determination and strength about her that appealed to him. He just
had no idea how to appeal to her.

She put you
here, and has undoubtedly already seen far more of you than your
own mother has,
Stephen mused wryly. It
was time to challenge her a little, and see just how unshakeable
she really was beneath that bristly exterior.

“
If you don’t
let me off this bed, I am afraid that you will just have to do it
for me,” Stephen said in a conversational tone that drew her
attention far quicker than any shout would have done.

Prudence merely lifted
her brows and waited. Their eyes met and held over the distance of
the bedroom. Each challenged the other in a silent battle of wills
that neither was prepared to back down from. Stephen smiled slowly,
but it wasn’t a softly seductive smile. It was a cool, calculating
smile that warned her that she was going to be mightily sorry for
having stood up to him.

“
Do you have
a chamber pot?”

Prudence’s stomach
dropped to her toes at his question and she coughed uncomfortably
while she willed her cheeks not to blush. Of course he would have
physical needs; ones that she certainly wasn’t going to help him
with. She sucked in a deep breath, and struggled to keep her face
impassive as she left the chair and reached under the bed for the
porcelain pot.

Desperately trying to
keep her anxiety off her face, she slammed it down on the bed
beside him with a smile, and regally sauntered out.

There, see
what you can do with that,
she mused with
a smirk of satisfaction on her face. She was about to head
downstairs only to hesitate at the top step. She stared into the
darkness of the entry hall and wondered when she had changed so
much that she could be so callous. The man had injuries that she
had given him. Even though he had been threatening Robbie at the
time, he hadn’t deserved to be whacked twice with the lump of wood.
Heaven only knew how much pain he must be in. Although his eyes had
been bright and his speech normal, that didn’t mean he wasn’t in
discomfort. Could she really leave him all night with the desperate
urge to do something as simple as use the chamber pot?

She sighed, and eyed the
gun beside the wall. Shaking her head in disbelief, she hefted its
unfamiliar weight and stalked back into the room.

“
I am going
to untie one arm. That’s all you should need. Try and untie your
other arm and you will regret it,” she warned darkly.

Stephen lifted his brows
and stared askance at the decrepit old gun she held in hands that
trembled alarmingly. He shook his head and wondered when the world
had descended into utter madness, and sighed.

“
One hand is
all I need,” he grumbled and winced as she unknotted one of the
ties. He groaned as pain lanced down his arm. Immediately, pins and
needles began to replace the numbness and for, one brief moment, he
almost wished that she had left him tied up.

Prudence placed the
chamber pot at his feet and stood indecisively for a moment. She
quickly averted her gaze when he sat upright and the sheet
immediately fell to his waist. Her gasp locked in her throat and
she glanced at the door to the hallway longingly. She would have
gone, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that if she left him alone he
could untie his other hand himself and get free. A steady blush
blossomed in her cheeks and she inwardly cringed at the realisation
that she would have to remain in the room while he did the
necessary. Wishing she could put her fingers in her ears, she
turned her back to the room and stared blankly at the shutter while
she waited.

“
Where are my
clothes?”

“
Drying
downstairs,” Prudence sighed, more than a little uncomfortable. She
wished that he hadn’t woken up, but then was glad that he hadn’t
woken when any of her sister’s had been keeping watch.

“
What are you
going to do now?” Stephen sighed as he eased back down onto the
bed. He knew now that he was nowhere near strong enough to force
his way off the bed just let, let alone blaze a trail out of the
door, even if he wanted to. The pounding in his head was starting
to make his vision blurry, although the sickness had eased a little
and he settled back onto the soft mattress with something akin to
relief.

“
What do you
mean?”

“
Well, you
can hardly leave me tied to the bed now, can you?”

“
As soon as
you are well again, you can go back to where you came from,”
Prudence replied crisply. “Until then, you are staying where you
are. I have sisters and a younger brother to protect and, given
that you are one of our worst enemies right now, I am sure that
even you will understand why you need to be restrained so. Tomorrow
morning, we will speak to Rufus about your trespassing on our
property. I am sure that he will have a few questions for you to
answer.”

Stephen felt a surge of
jealousy at the familiar way she used the local magistrate’s first
name. When had ‘Mr Denbigh’ become ‘Rufus’; what had he missed? As
far as he knew, Rufus Denbigh was a confirmed bachelor. Had he set
his sights on the woman before him? That thought was enough to make
Stephen scowl darkly at the ceiling. He had no idea when, or how,
Prudence had become so important to him, but he had no intention of
simply standing to one side and allowing the debonair, bachelor
magistrate to help himself to the only woman who had captured
Stephen’s emotions in all of his adult life.

“
Good,”
Stephen snapped, suddenly feeling disgruntled. “I have a few things
to say to the magistrate myself.”

Prudence shook her head
and placed the gun on the floor beside the rocking chair as she sat
down.

“
I wouldn’t
try to use that thing if I were you,” Stephen murmured as he eyed
the long barrel of the old gun in disgust.

“
Oh, and why
not?” She demanded with her nose in the air. It would serve his
purposes if she didn’t threaten him with it, but she wasn’t going
to be fooled so easily. However, his next words chilled her to the
bone.

“
Because it
is at least fifty years old, and likely to injure you more than the
person you aim it at. It could take your fingers off, if it doesn’t
dislocate your shoulder first.” He watched her pale and stare down
at the gun in alarm. “Keep it well out of Robbie’s reach,” he
warned, for emphasis. His eyes met hers across the bedroom; he
could see the questions in her eyes and hoped that he had given her
just enough of a warning to reassure her that he meant her no
harm.

Prudence stared down at
the wicked looking object while he fell asleep. She was suddenly
very glad that she hadn’t been able to find any shot for it. In
spite of the fact that it was the middle of the night, and the
attics were freezing cold, she quietly made her way to the upper
floor and hoped she could find her father’s old trunk in the
darkness.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

If he didn’t get off this
bed soon, Stephen was certain that he was going to go stark raving
mad. The following day, his patience had worn so thin that he had
started to plot how to tear the bed apart just to be able to get up
and about. He had no intention of leaving the house; he just wanted
the freedom to be able to at least stand up.

“
Robbie!” He
called when he spotted the flurry of movement outside the door. He
had hoped that Prudence would make a return visit but she seemed to
be avoiding him, and that disturbed more than he wanted to admit.
Although Eloisa had appeared with a hearty breakfast several hours
earlier, and Georgiana had collected his tray, he had not seen hide
nor hair of the beautiful woman he really wanted to see.

“
What’s your
name, mister?” The young lad asked in a rather timid voice. He
hovered uncertainly in the doorway as though he was looking into
the lion’s den. Stephen knew that if anyone in the house was going
to be easy to persuade, it would be the young boy; if only he could
get past the fear that was evident in Robbie’s eyes.

“
I am glad
that someone has asked me,” Stephen grumbled. “I was starting to
think that nobody cared.” He smiled at the boy and gave him a
rueful look. “My name is Stephen.”