The Lady Is Innocent (The Star Elite Series) (11 page)

“You cannot prove anything,”
Tabatha declared scornfully.

“Oh
, I can my dear, you see I have had recently had circumstances bring me into contact with your bankers. They have been considerably concerned about the sorry, and somewhat awkward, state of your finances.” He didn’t add that they had tried to get Jamie to furnish Tabatha’s account with enough money to allow them to pay the bills she presented. “I am afraid that they are also discussing closing your account as you cannot furnish it with sufficient funds to provide for your own upkeep. About a year ago, I began to wonder why we were still paying you such a huge allowance for Florrie’s upkeep given that you do not have to pay for a governess for her any more, and especially when she has access to her own funds. The allowance has now stopped madam, so I am afraid you are going to have to source a regular income from somewhere else.”

“Stopped
? But you cannot do that! I am not going to pay her way through life. She will end up out on her ear first,” Tabatha spat, glaring in pure hatred at Florrie.

“We all know that you onl
y kept her because of the monthly allowance she brought with her,” Jamie sighed. “But she is old enough now to handle her own money and has been doing so for several weeks. Unfortunately, because you have no other source of income, the funds in your bank account have dried up.”

“Well,
I suggest you get packing then Florrie, because you are not going to be staying with me any longer.”

“I already have,”
Florrie sighed, not in the least bothered by the prospect of leaving Oxfordshire. “I shall be glad to be rid of the place.”

“You have a choice
, Tabatha,” Hugo sighed. He was really struggling with the urge to grab the woman by the scruff of the neck and drag her off to jail. His fingers itched to wipe that arrogant look off her weathered features, but he knew that he was better off allowing jail to do that for him. “You can go to debtors’ prison and wait for your house to be sold, or you can go to jail and wait for charges of arson and fraud to be presented to you in court. Althoughm for both charges, I think you are facing transportation.”

Tabatha
stared at Jamie’s rigid expression before she turned to Florrie.

“If only you hadn’t been so stupid as to want to come here, none of this would have happened,”
Tabatha snarled.

“Do you really think that your creditors wouldn’t have found you? Or that your schemes and lies wouldn’t have been uncovered?”
Florrie gasped, staring at her aunt. She wondered if she had ever really known the woman at all. Somehow, Florrie knew that the only person Tabatha really cared about was Tabatha.

She suddenly felt sorry for her uncle Archibald, and realised then why he had chosen to bury himself in his
gentlemen’s clubs as much as he had. He had most probably been trying to spend as much time out of the house as possible to keep away from his heartless wife.

“You are a fool,
Tabatha, and unfortunately for you, your contemptuous behaviour has caught up with you. I can only be very glad that I did come here for Jamie’s wedding. Not only is he the only relation I have got, apart from Silas and his family, but I am glad that all of this has come to light and your misdeeds are able to catch up with you. Debtors’ prison is too good for you. You should go to jail where I hope they throw away the key.”

She felt slightly
overwhelmed at having both Pie and Jamie standing protectively on either side of her, but it also bolstered her courage to say her final words to the woman who had come to mean so little to her. The commanding presence of all of the men in the room finally began to have an effect on Tabatha, who seemed to lose some of her bravado as she studied their unsympathetic faces in turn.

“Debtors’
prison, or jail?” Hugo snapped, losing patience with the woman. “You have one minute to decide or I shall make the choice for you.”

“Debtors’ prison,”
Tabatha sighed, pushing to her feet. “I am going to go to bed while you make -”

“Oh, I am afraid not,” Jamie snapped, motioning to the man standing behind him. Billy, fully cloaked and armed with a wicked looking gun
, appeared in the doorway.

Florrie
gasped as she caught sight of him and instinctively took a step back. She jumped a little as Pie’s supportive hand settled on her waist. Billy, Jamie’s new coachman was tall and slender but had a hint of menace around him that was vaguely disconcerting. He stood in the doorway, heavily garbed in a long black cloak that made him look more than a little bit threatening. She turned to look at Jamie, and caught his mischievous wink. She wondered whether the coachman’s attire was meant to intimidate to ensure that Tabatha went along without a fight.

“Billy is going to take you to the debtors’ prison
now and I am going to go with you. I have already forewarned them that you are on your way,” Jamie drawled.

In reality
, he had not told them anything of the sort, but he had every intention of ensuring the prison warden had full details of Tabatha’s debts to ensure she was housed for now. With the pending criminal charges and the full extent of her debts yet to be revealed, there was enough against her to ensure that they wouldn’t let her out. Nobody left debtors’ prison without having cleared their dues and Tabatha was going to be no different.

Jamie couldn’t help but wonder if
Tabatha had any idea what she was letting herself in for. It was inevitable that the woman was going to end up there at some point, but he didn’t envy her the future that was laid out before her. The hours would be long; the work arduous and never ending. The brutal regime, poor food and even worse sanitation would ensure that she paid for every penny she owed to everyone.

Unfortunately for
Tabatha, there was very little chance of her getting out.

If he was in her position and he was given the choice, he would have taken jail. Although it would be a far harder regime, at least there would have been some light at the end of the tunnel. As it was,
Tabatha had just convicted herself to a life of servitude.

Puffing out his cheeks, Jamie turned to his cousin.

“I want you to get something to eat, some sleep and I will speak to you again when I get back. Meantime, get plenty of rest. You are supposed to be here to relax and enjoy the hospitality. I don’t want you going on to your new life looking like a ghost.”

He knew his pointed remark was really for Hugo and Pie, but he kept his gaze firmly on
Florrie while he spoke. The next time he came, he fully expected her to look completely different. If she didn’t, then she was going to move to Melvedere where his staff could take proper care of her, and his beautiful new wife could get to know his cousin. He sincerely hoped they would become friends. Florrie was the only relation he really had, apart from some distant ones near Manchester and Silas, of course.

“Are these really necessary?”
Tabatha demanded, struggling with Simon who was trying to tie her hands behind her back.

“I am afraid so. We cannot lose sight of the fact that you have already committed arson and are prepared to attempt to turn the blame on your niece. We have to protect Billy and Jamie while you travel. It is either these
or we can arrange for the magistrate and his men to come and put you in irons before they take you to jail. Your choice,” Simon replied, pausing only very briefly. It wasn’t really a choice and Tabatha seemed to know it. She sighed and glared at him over her shoulder while he placed ropes around her ankles as well.

Florrie turned as Jamie took a hold of her elbow and led her out of the room. At the door, she glanced back and looked at Tabatha who was now bound with ropes at her wrists and ankles. Simon was standing at her elbow and instructing her how to shuffle with the restraints on. Her eyes met and held Tabatha’s for one final moment. Florrie could see nothing in the woman’s gaze except anger and bitterness and knew that after everything, Tabatha had no hint of regret for her actions.

It was
Florrie’s last sight of the woman who had betrayed her, and she wasn’t all that sorry.

At the bottom of the stairs
she said a quiet ‘goodnight’ to Jamie who gave her a wink and disappeared out of the front door.

Pie joined her on the bottom step and
escorted her up the stairs. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that she was perfectly capable of making her own way to her room but the feel of him walking beside her made her feel invariably safer, especially with Tabatha still in the house. She didn’t look behind her as she heard the shuffling of her step-aunt moving across the hallway. There was nothing else to see, or say. The quiet click of the front door behind her seemed to echo the closing of one particular part of her life.

Florrie
was half way down the upper landing before Pie drew her to a halt and turned her to face him.

“I really don’t want you going to meet Dexter.”

Florrie was so tired that she could have fallen asleep standing up, but was equally determined that she hear for herself just how deep her aunt’s treachery had gone.

“I am going
, and there is nothing you can say, or do, that is going to stop me.”

“The man is dangerous,” Pie snapped, shoving his way into
Florrie’s room when she tried to shut the door on her. He spun on his heel and glared at her, blocking her access to the room behind him. “He could have been the one who was driving the carriage that ran you over, do you realise that? If he is, you are going to go the tavern and meet him. Then what do you intend to do?” Pie placed his hands on his hips in a challenging stance. It was either that or he would put them around her neck.

“I am go
ing to tell him my name and inform him that he was the wrong woman. I don’t see why I should be the one who gets shot at, run over and threatened when I haven’t done anything wrong,” Florrie bit out. The effects of the night were starting to take effect on her and she was trembling furiously but refused to show it. She wasn’t going to allow him to see any sign of weakness that he could use as an argument to try to prevent her from going to the tavern tomorrow.

“A tavern is no place for a lady,” Pie added, changing his argument when
Florrie began to look increasingly belligerent.

“I am going to meet with Dexter tomorrow and that’s that. You cannot
, and will not, stop me.” She sniffed at him and made to brush past him.

“I can’t protect you all the time, you -”

“I don’t expect you to protect me,” Florrie gasped. She spun on her heel toward him and struggled not to take a step back. She felt at a distinct disadvantage at having to tip her head backward to glare up at him, but she refused to allow him to see that she was cowed by his sheer dominance. “I can’t remember ever asking you to protect me. I am a grown woman and don’t need you, Tabatha, Hugo or anyone else.” She threw her head back.

Pie stared at her. He wondered if she would adopt this lioness attitude toward protecting any children she had and knew that this was an intrinsic part of who
Florrie was. She was indomitable when crossed and he secretly felt rather proud of her. Whatever had happened to her throughout her life, she was a born survivor, just like he was.

“What if the man takes a weapon to you in the tavern? What do you plan to do, ask him to put it down nicely?” Pie snarled derisively. He knew he was being a bit unfair given that it would have to be a stupid criminal indeed to make such a move in a tavern
packed to the rafters with people. The villager’s wouldn’t allow the man to get out of the door if he hurt her.

Florrie’s
stomach flipped in alarm at the thought, but she would have to cross that bridge when she came to it. She could only hope that the man who had shot at her tonight was being honest when he said his boss had ordered him not to hurt her. Otherwise, she was putting her head right into the lion’s mouth.

“I am going, Pie, and that’s that.” She yawned and moved away only to gasp as Pie grabbed hold of her elbow and swung her around to face him.
He grabbed hold of both of her elbows, desperation in his gaze as he glared down at her.

“Listen to me.”

Florrie felt her temper surge and tried to yank her elbows out of his grasp. “Let go of me,” she snapped, twisting frantically this way and that in an attempt to get him to let her go. He held on with a ruthless ease that did little other than increase her temper.

Lifting one foot
, she kicked him hard on the shin. It hurt her toes but she ignored the pain, merely glared at him when he winced and scowled at her. She kicked him again for good measure.

“Stop it, damn it,” Pie snapped, trying to grab her around the waist. He had never seen any woman behave like this and was astounded at her determination to get her own way. Although he would never do anything to hurt her, he wasn’t going to stand back and allow her to put herself in harm
’s way, whatever the cost to his shins. He winced as her finger nails bit cruelly into the back of his hands.

“Enough!” He shouted when one delicate foot caught him on the shin with all too much precision.
He did wince this time and felt his temper snap. Grabbing her around the waist he hauled her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder. The blows she rained down on his back were harder than he expected and he stalked toward the bed with a curse. His back ached with the pummelling it was getting and he unceremoniously dumped her onto the bed.

Florrie
immediately rolled over and tried to crawl off the other side only for Pie to grab her around the waist and drag her back around. Her twisting and squirming pulled him off balance and he landed onto the bed with her.

“For God sakes, will you calm down?”

“I am not going to be treated like some helpless female any longer,” Florrie spat, her eyes raining shards of fire at him. Pie felt his body respond, not only to hear nearness but to her wriggling against him. Her bosom heaved with indignation, but it was the fire in her eyes that captivated him. The pins had fallen out of her hair while she had been upside down allowing her hair to fall in silken abandon across the bed.

“I have been run over, have run up debts I knew nothing about
, and shot at, all because of my greedy aunt!” She shouted.

She really was rather beautiful when angry,
Pie mused. He stared down at her and wisely kept quiet. He could understand her need to vent her emotions and merely held her still while she ranted. “I have been shot at, twice, and faced my attacker. You are now not going to squirrel me away in this blasted room until the next time we get a note and you want to set me up as a target again.”

Pie took a breath to reply only to lapse into silence again when she continued to rant.

“That man has been behind everything that has happened to me. I think it is only fair and right that I should be the one to meet with him and set the record straight. Why should I be the one who goes without sleep at night, and have my life threatened? I should be given the chance to at least face my tormentor.” She began to wriggle and squirm, determined to break free so she could pace up and down. Her blood pounded in her veins. Her head swirled with argument after argument as she faced up to her fury.

Pie glanced at the tight balls of her fist and thought about the bruising on his back. While listening to her rant he carefully captured one wrist and drew it over her head before repeating the process with her other hand. Placing his legs on either side of her hips effectively held her captive so she could harm
neither him, nor herself. She had yet to calm down enough to realise what he had done. He remained perfectly still and knew that there was a long way to go before her temper cooled.

“Get off me, you oaf!”
Florrie snapped, realising at last that Pie had her securely pinned down. Her blood boiled even hotter and she glared at him in defiant fury.

“
Florrie, you have to stay here,” Pie declared softly.

“The hell I am.”
Florrie glared at him.

“You are staying,” he growled.

“You cannot tell me what to do. You are not my guardian,” Florrie argued, determined that nothing and nobody was going to stop her meeting Dexter face to face.

“I am the man who is trying to keep you alive!” Pie
snapped, his own temper beginning to fray.

Florrie
wriggled around enough to be able to sit upright a little until her chin was mere inches away from his chest. She had to tip her head backward to look at him but she didn’t care.

“I didn’t ask you to get yourself involved in this! I didn’t ask you to be my
protector and you have no right to stop me from doing anything.” Her eyes threw fire at him.

Pie had heard enough. He let go of one of her wrists and captured the hair at the back of her head in one large fist. Drawing her upward, his lips slammed down on hers with a ruthlessness that wiped out any further argument.

At first she grabbed hold of his forearm to draw his hand away but his only response was to tip his head sideways and deepen the kiss. Florrie gasped, only for the force of his kiss to propel her backward onto the bed. He followed her down without breaking the sensual onslaught. She knew she should protest at the intimate hold he had on her but, after the incident in the churchyard when he had held her so tightly while the bullets flew, she couldn’t find any reason to stop him now.

A part of her felt driven, pushed, impelled to answer his challenge. She knew that he was trying to
get her to accept his dominance and follow through with his wishes, but she simply refused to allow this man to get away with it. Something dark and dangerous thrummed through her and it made her reckless. The memory of that first bullet whizzing past her head, so very close to her ear, was so strong she could have been back in the churchyard.

It could have hit her,
went through her mind over and over in a relentless drone. She could be dead right now and what had she experienced in life? Nothing. What was she likely to experience throughout the long and empty years ahead? Nothing. If tonight was the only night that she was going to be able to savour simply being alive then she was going to embrace everything that happened with the same ruthless determination that Pie had.

Rather than meekly succumbing to his embrace
, she grabbed hold of his shirt front and drew him closer. Instead of twisting and turning to get away, she lay beneath him and used her other hand to slide around his back and draw him down until he was lying against her.

Pie groaned at
Florrie’s defiance. He had intended to kiss her until she calmed down enough so that they could talk properly. Instead, the woman had turned his desire back on him. His senses swam as she pulled him down. He couldn’t find the strength to fight her. Fire burned through him, warning his blood to molten lava. His body ached with a fierceness that he knew would take some time to subside.

Passion roared to life between them. All sense, all logic, all reason fled and was replaced with a reckless determination that
had hands clawing at clothing in a desperate attempt to reveal as much flesh as possible, while lips plundered and seared with scalding sensation.

Silence settled within the room as the
lovers duelled for supremacy.

The following morning, Florrie sat at the breakfast table in nervous anticipation. She didn’t want to be there; she was certain that last night’s behaviour was emblazoned across her forehead for everyone to see. She felt like a harlot, and had behaved like a wanton. Pie must be horrified at what she had done with him. She felt her cheeks flush with acute embarrassment and wondered whether she should just hide under the table and come back out when breakfast was all over, and Pie had left the house.

The stubborn woman from last night who had refused to be cowed by him had been replaced by a nervous wall flower who wished she was anywhere else. Each time someone
appeared at the door, her heart began to hammer a little louder. Would Pie be angry? Or would he be disgusted with her for her recklessness?

She still couldn’t believe what had happened. Her first time should have been slow and gentle, but she couldn’
t explain last night. Whatever he had created within her had burned with desperation that she had not been able to ignore. They had shared intimacies that still made her swallow nervously and this morning, having woken up beside him, she knew she had to take the coward’s way out.

U
ntil she had thought about what had happened, and why, and what she was going to do about last night, she needed to avoid Pie. Oh, it was impossible to go back now. She was irrevocably changed forever and, if she was blatantly honest, a part of her didn’t regret what she had done for a second. She was more nervous about Pie’s reaction. She knew that he was an honourable man and seemed to have appointed himself as her unofficial protector. She had left the bed this morning purely because she didn’t want his condemnation or, to be frank, his further attentions. Her body was already sore from their intimacies last night. She was certainly not in any condition to accommodate another round of sensual wrestling with him if he tried to seduce her. Again, her cheeks flamed in embarrassment as a small voice reminded her that she hadn’t exactly taken any seducing.