Free His Lady Spy (The Star Elite Series) by Rebecca King

he hadn’t witnessed the last few minutes firsthand, he would never have believed they had happened. As it was, he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of them – the events as they had happened, or the two women who were now marching resolutely toward the neighbouring village; the furthest away from Tissington. Despite the damage to their skirts, they were stomping across the roughly ploughed field with their shoulders swept back and their heads upright. They were like a small army going into battle. Nothing and nobody was going to get in their way. Archie was humbled and humoured in equal measure.
    Carefully hiding his grin, Archie kept a keen eye on the area around them, feeling more than a little proud of them both , and wondered how anyone could even consider for one moment forcing them into marriage to men twice their age. There should be a law against it. The fire these ladies held within them was something that should be matched by their lovers and husbands, not quenched by overbearing and overweight geriatrics.
    While he was prepared, for the time being at least, to follow meekly in their wake, the battle hardened soldier didn’t relinquish his careful control of the situation and kept one careful eye on the surrounding landscape for any sign of threat. Once or twice , when they stumbled, he instinctively moved forward to give them a helping hand, only to hesitate and draw back at the last moment. Instead he was resigned to watching carefully as they righted themselves, drew their shawls tighter and marched onward. As the miles passed, he wasn’t ignorant of the slight wilting of their ramrod straight figures, or the heavy breathing of both women as they tried to maintain their fast pace, but resolutely kept quiet, giving them the time they needed to work off their fear and worry.
    Several hours later, Portia spied the small town of Headingly with a weary sigh of relief. She had never wanted to get away from anywhere in her entire life, and would be very grateful if she never went near Tissington, or its church, ever again. But she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the fact that neither sister had a penny to their name. Both of them were wearing dresses that were now caked in mud and heaven only knew what else. The plans they had begun to make earlier that afternoon had now fluttered away in the slight breeze that had begun to gather pace with the approaching storm clouds. They had the odds stacked against them, but Portia was still reluctant to ask anything of the stranger walking quietly behind her, even though their situation called for help from someone.
    “Wait!” Archie drew both Portia and Cecily to a stop. Dodging through the gap between the sisters, Archie drew them closer to the hedge, aware of the clip clopping of hooves coming from the track that ran alongside the field they stood in. Huddled as close to the hedgerow as possible, Archie prised the foliage apart just enough to peer through. He watched the old man meander slowly past on his old trap before turning toward the sisters.
    “I don’t know how much longer I can go on,” Cecily gasped, fanning her flushed cheeks with the edge of her shawl.
    All of them were breathing heavily but, despite the satisfying distance they had managed to create, it still wasn’t enough and Archie struggled to keep the bite of impatience from his voice.
    “We have to get away from the area , Cecily,” Archie replied, eyeing Portia’s own flushed countenance with a mixture of awe and consternation. She should be red-faced, sweaty and unappealing, not made increasingly beautiful by the slightly peachy bloom to her cheeks and the militant gleam in her eye. “I apologise for the fast pace, but the quicker we can get to my rooms in Headingly, the better.”
    “We cannot all go there,” Portia declared , aghast at the thought of being alone in a bedroom with any strange man, let alone this starkly handsome one who seemed to have appointed himself their