Rescued By the Spy Read online

  Charles motioned for Jake to take a seat and started dealing out cards.

  “Was Sammy able to find out where they moved the shipments?”

  “Yes, they are moving them near a warehouse in the docks. But Sammy overheard them talking, they are going to do things different this time around.”

  “How so?” Charles asked as he pretended to play cards with Jake.

  He did not want to draw any added attention to them. Also, he did not want them to connect Jake and Sammy to him.

  “They are not keeping the guns in the warehouse, they will distribute them amongst the villagers that are taking part in this madness.”

  “When is this going to take place?”

  “Sammy overheard them say near dawn.”

  “Then we burn that warehouse down tonight. That will draw Shears out of hiding.”

  “That is too dangerous Mallory. This village is surrounded by his men. There is only three of us; that plan is a suicide mission.”

  “There is no other way. We cannot let those weapons get into anybody’s hands.”

  Charles looked up and noticed Bessie beckoning at him to join her. He nodded to her as he slid his chair back. Jake turned around and saw the buxom blond waving over at them. Charles slid his hand into his pocket and threw a few coins on the table.

  “Good hand, but a man needs to learn when to quit. Besides, I’ve got a pretty lady to meet.” Mallory began to walk away when Jake grabbed at his arm.

  “We don’t have time for this Mallory,” Jake argued.

  “Yes, we do, she has information on Shears. Wait for me out back. If I do not return in one hour, come find me upstairs. The room is the third door on the left, or so I have been told,” Mallory hissed as he jerked his arm out of Jake’s grasp and strolled over to the waitress.

  Bessie grabbed him and rushed them up the stairs to her bedroom. As they entered, they were met by the ugly waitress from earlier. She was sitting on the cot in the room, rubbing at her feet. She lowered her dress quickly when they hurried in, but not before Charles got a look at her slender ankles. They looked soft and curved perfectly with her feet. For being as far along as the waitress was, he expected her ankles to be more swollen. His sister Ivy constantly complained in her letters to him of her swollen ankles due to her pregnancy. He figured it was a common ailment amongst pregnant women, but that didn’t seem to be the case with this girl.

  “Sally go below and help out Ray. I need the room for a spell. I have entertaining to do this evening.” Bessie told the girl as she ran her hand along Charles’s arm.

  “Not tonight Bessie, my feet are aching. Ray doesn’t want me working in the bar.”

  “He won’t notice you tonight, he will be too busy. You promised you would fill in for me for a couple of hours.”

  Sally rose from the cot, slipping her feet into her slippers. As she held her back, she waddled over to the door glaring at Charles all the way. He really was a cad. For him to fall victim to Bessie’s charms so easily only proved that running from him was the best thing she did for herself. If this was how he wanted to spend his time, Shears would find him. It would be no fault but his own. Opening the door, she looked over her shoulder one last time to see Charles looking at her suspiciously as he pulled Bessie into his arms.

  Charles watched as the waitress glared at him as she walked to the door. One would think that the ole girl was jealous of Bessie here. Why? He did not understand, he never showed her any attention. There was no reason to, somebody already had a few months earlier from the looks of things. Poor soul; whoever that fool was. Raising his eyebrow at her in question as she paused at the door, he waited to see what she would do. Sensing that she only got angrier at the devotion he gave to Bessie, he decided to give her more. So, pulling Bessie into his arms, he began to lower his head to kiss her. When he heard the door slam shut, he looked up to see that she had left. Looking at Bessie, she had her eyes closed and was leaning into the kiss that he was afraid he was going to deny her. He hated to disappoint her, but he could not bring himself to do the deed.

  Lowering his head, he kissed her on the cheek. Pulling away, he loosened himself from her hold, wandering around the room. He noticed the threadbare curtains and bedsheets. He grimaced when he looked at the filthy bed, knowing that is how Bessie thought they would spend their time. However, Charles had other ideas. Turning back to Bessie he saw her pouting, and he needed to lead her on until Jake came to his rescue.

  Smiling he walked over to the only clean thing he saw in the room and sat down. Laying on the cot, he inhaled the waitress Sally’s scent. It was fresh compared to the stench of the rest of the room. Realizing that he focused too much on the ugly wench, Charles mentally shook himself to focus on his task this evening.

  “Bessie dear, fix me a drink.”

  Bessie went to her side cupboard and fixed him a drink. Charles watched as she poured something out of a jug into the dirty glass that she pulled out. Bessie slid onto Charles’s lap with the drink. Bringing it to her lips she slowly sipped the brew, gazing at him as she drained the glass. She lowered the glass as her tongue slid out and licked her lips. Ah, the poor wench thought she was being sexy, but she saved me from drinking out of that disgusting glass, Charles thought to himself.

  “Ah Bessie, you’re being a tease aren’t you my dear?”

  “You are the one being a tease. I thought you wanted my company tonight.”

  “I do Bessie, which is why I am here.”

  “Then why don’t we go over to my bed and I can show you what fun I can be.”

  “I don’t want to rush Bessie, I prefer to take things nice and slow. If you know what I mean.”

  Charles told her as he brought his fingers up to her neckline. Sliding his fingers through the ribbon, he unweaves them from their hoops. Spreading her dress open wider, he traced them along the opening. Her eyes grew heavy with desire.

  “Bessie tell me about the men that have been new to town. Do they work for a man named Shears?”

  Charles felt Bessie tense in his arms and knew that he had to distract her more. He nuzzled her neck as he continued to touch her. As her body began to relax into his again; he questioned her more.

  “Yes, they gather here. They use the tavern as a meet between the docks and their warehouse. I don’t know what they are transferring, but that it is dangerous.”

  “Have you ever seen the man Shears?”

  Bessie quivered in Charles’s arms. Charles drew back and saw that she had gone as white as a ghost. She shook her head and pulled herself out of his arms.

  “I do not want to talk about him.”

  “I can protect you from him; you must trust me Bessie.”

  “Nobody can protect me from him.”

  “What do you know?

  She continued to shake her head. Charles tried to pull her back into his embrace, but she fought him. Bessie rose from the cot and paced the room, rubbing her arms.

  “He is an evil man Bessie. My men and I can protect you. Give me a chance.”

  “I think you need to leave. If anybody knows that you are in this room, they will kill me. I overheard Ray discussing you. They sent for Shears. He will be here soon.”

  “My men are waiting outside. Come with me Bessie and we will protect you.”

  “No, you must...” Bessie was interrupted by the pounding on the door.

  “Bessie you get your lazy ass downstairs now, you know how I hate that fat cow serving drinks to the men,” Ray yelled thru the door.

  “I will be down in a minute Ray.”

  “You get down there now and hurry; Shears will be here any minute and I told him you will be available for him tonight. And none of those shenanigans that you pulled last time. He is a powerful man that I do not want as an enemy. Do I make myself clear?”

  Charles watched as Bessie whitened even more than she had earlier as she answered, “Yes.”

  He stared as she slowly pulled herself together, lacing her dress back into
place. She moved to the mirror and fixed her hair.

  “Wait until I have gone below and sneak out down the backstairs. I will keep Shears busy. You must leave this town tonight.”

  “Bessie, please let me help you.”

  Bessie left the room ignoring his pleas.

  Charles sat on the only chair in the room. The rickety chair shook under his weight. As he leaned on the two back legs, his eyes searched the room. He was in no hurry to leave. His anger towards Shears only made him delay in running. Besides, he was always two paces ahead of Shears finding him. As he had been tracking Shears these last few months he learned his routines, and they never differed; that is why staying ahead of him was so easy. Tonight, would not differ from any of the other nights.

  His eyes landed on the pregnant girl’s cot. Looking back and forth between her cot and Bessie’s bed he noted the differences. Something was not right. Her small area looked too neat and organized for a tavern wench. Her cot was made, and her clothes were neatly stacked beneath. A small treasure box partially hidden under her garments, like it was put away in a hurry but not completely. Charles remembered that they had surprised the wench when Bessie and he had entered the room. Had she been looking in the box before they came into the room? If so, what had gained her attention enough to keep it hidden?

  He landed the chair on all fours as he came to his feet. Walking over to her cot he knelt to pull out the box from underneath her garments. As he looked at the clothes, he spotted what good condition they were in. Bringing them to his nose, he smelt her fragrance. Now why would a tavern wench have such sweet-smelling clothes. From his experience, women in this position never concerned themselves with cleanliness or kept their dresses in such pristine order. Things did not add up with this woman. Who was she?

  Pulling out the box he observed what delicate condition it was in. The keepsake box was small and engraved with crowns and wands. In the middle of the box sat an emerald. The cut of the emerald was exquisite. Charles laughed, what was he thinking, it wasn’t real; just a believable paste job. Still, he ran his thumb across the jewel. For a paste, it appeared smooth to the touch. Opening the treasure, he saw an inscription card sewn into the cloth that protected the inside of the box.

  To our Fairy Tale Princess,

  May all your wishes and dreams come true.

  Love Mama & Papa

  Charles smiled to himself imagining the young girl opening this gift from her parents. She must have been loved unconditionally. What was the wench doing with something so precious? Only children of wealthy parents were given a gift as this. The trinkets were too costly for the poor. Each piece was always handmade, hours of work went into the delicate detail of these boxes. Was she a thief? Who did she lift this from? Looking inside the box at the various treasures, hoping to find a clue who this belonged to. As his fingers dug through the items, he came up empty. They were only objects from a young lady who believed in fairy tales; a dry pressed rose, a broken bracelet, a couple of buttons that looked too big to belong to a young girl, maybe her fathers and a blue handkerchief. He lifted the fabric out of the box for a closer look. As he unfolded the material, he heard a commotion outside the door.

  Swiftly stuffing the handkerchief back into the box and closing the lid, he slid the case inside the front pocket of his coat. Moving her clothes back into place he straightened up the mess, not wanting her to be aware that he spied on her.

  As he rose to his feet, the door flung open and the pregnant wench rushed into the room as she headed to her bed. The same cot that Charles kneeled in front of. He came to his feet and tried to distance himself from where he was, but he was caught. Upon seeing him, she stopped abruptly. She looked between him and her cot, her eyes went to the place he was moments ago. When she saw that nothing had been disturbed, she relaxed.

  “Waiting for Bessie are ye?” she inquired.

  Charles watched as she moved over to the cupboard and pulled out a glass. Opening a different jug than Bessie had used she poured a drink. He thought that she was relaxed but as she poured the liquid into the glass her hand shook. Wondering why he made her so nervous, Charles moved closer to her. She had him curious. As she saw him come near her, the wench tried to move away, but he cornered her up against the cupboard.

  She felt trapped in more ways than having him trap her against the cabinet. Her eyes darted around the room looking for something to distract him with so that she could make her escape. When she came into her room and seen him near her cot, her heart wanted to leap out of her throat, but when she saw nothing out of place she became calm. Since he had not confronted her with what was hid underneath her clothing, she realized her secrets were safe. If he found what she had hidden, he would recognize who she was.

  “We didn’t get to finish what we started. Since she isn’t returning, maybe you care to take her place,” Charles baited her.

  She knew that he was trying to make her more nervous than she already was. Raising the glass to her lips her hands shook, she decided a small sip would calm her nerves before she responded to him. But before she took a sip, he wrapped his hand around hers, pulling the glass out of her hands.

  “What do you think you are doing?” she asked as she rubbed her hand. She felt a spark as his hand touched hers when he grabbed the glass.

  Tilting his head back, Charles took a drink. The whiskey burned as he swallowed the fiery liquid. He soon felt the warm glow settle in his gut. It was nothing compared to the warm glow that he experienced when his hand had brushed hers. It was as if a flow of heat had passed between them, which did not make any sense, she was not his type at all. Not only hideously ugly, but she was also an angry female, and he always tried to avoid that type.

  “Whiskey is not good for you to drink.”

  “Why wasn’t it and who are you to tell me what I can’t drink?”

  Charles nodded his head towards her stomach, “That is the reason you didn’t need the drink.”

  Sally stared at her stomach in confusion. Wrapping her hands around her middle she raised questioning eyes up to him.

  “It is not good for the babe.”

  She turned away from him to get her thoughts under control. How could she forget about the babe? His presence in this small room turned her thoughts and actions into mush. She was forgetting her mission. She needed to pull herself together and focus on what had to be done. Turning around she expected him to be right behind her, but he had wandered over to her cot. She watched warily as he lowered himself to lie on the cot. He sprawled back on his elbows, regarding her. His eyelids dropping lower.

  “So, what do you say my dear? From the looks of things, this is something you enjoy,” he said as he patted the space next to him.

  Sally blushed at his assumption. He could not be further from the truth, but who was she to correct him. She decided to play along with his little game, it would only last for a few moments more.

  She smiled at him showing him her yellow teeth. Grabbing a hold of her stomach as she walked over to the cot. Sally laughed to herself as she took glee at the revulsion on his face from her smile and the bulk of her stomach. This was too much fun after all. Since he wanted to play this cat-and-mouse game, she was all too happy to play along. Leaning over him she gave him a view of the swell of her breasts as she positioned her hands on both sides of his shoulders.

  “Why not? I’ve had worse. But you might want to hurry, the last I heard Shears and his men are planning to kill you tonight,” she said as she ran her fingers through his lush blond hair, brushing it back from his face.

  Charles grabbed her hand, tightening his grip around her wrist, “What do you know of Shears?”

  Sally gulped at the pressure on her wrist, “I know that he wants to kill you.”

  Charles closed his eyes then slowly opened them. Something wasn’t right. Was she sent in here to distract him while they plotted their plan to kill him? If so it was working, what he couldn’t understand was his attraction to this woman. Her bre
asts were hanging near his face pushing out of her dress ready to fall out at the right tug if he so wanted them to. She smelled sweet like honey. I wonder if she tastes as sweet too. He suddenly felt exhausted. Closing his eyes again, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. He needed to focus on Shears and what his connection was to this woman.

  “Who are you?”

  “Does it matter who I am?” the wench asked as she tried to tug her hand away.

  Charles only tightened his hold more, bringing her off balance and causing her to fall on top of him. He brought his other arm around and held her trapped to his body. She fought to get out of his embrace but only caused herself to be crushed tighter to him. Raising his head, he captured her mouth in a kiss.

  She was stunned as his lips caressed hers. It was powerful and shocking to her system. As she opened her mouth to protest, it was all the encouragement he needed. His tongue swept in controlling her with long deep strokes. Tasting her, licking her, devouring her. His tongue traced the outline of her lips then slowly slid back inside stroking her tongue with his. As he pulled his lips away from hers, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

  Charles was also stunned at the kiss. If he wasn’t lying down, it would have knocked him to his knees. He could taste and feel her reaction of the kiss. She did not take part in the kiss, but he sensed the response from her. Her body went soft against him and he heard her moans. She did taste like honey.

  Things had gone too far. She panicked and tried pulling out of his arms. Her knees came up and dug into his lap. Charles moaned and let her go. As she crawled off him she fell to the floor, getting to her knees she quickly got to her feet and backed away. She held her hand up to her lips following him with her eyes.

  Charles groaned in agony from where her knees landed. Sitting up slowly and doubling over, he felt lightheaded. Laying back down, he closed his eyes. Opening them again he turned his head and watched as she backed herself up to the door. He knew she was going to try to escape. He could not let her leave. None of his questions got answered by either woman tonight. Holding out his hand he tried to focus on her, but she was becoming blurry.