Her Majesty My Love - eBook - Final

by Maya Banks

  “If I am going to rig my ship for sail, I’ll have to venture into town and round up a small crew of men I trust. And I’ll have to do it as discreetly as possible if we don’t want it to get out that I’m sailing to Leaudor. I’ll return when all is ready. In the meantime, put your horse in the stable behind the house and lay low.”

  Simon shook the captain’s hand. “Thank you. England will not forget your service either.”

  Captain Martin chuckled and shoved his hat back onto his head. “Who knew an old captain such as me would end up doing something so important?”

  He shuffled out of the cottage and closed the door firmly behind him.

  Simon turned to Isabella. “Come here and let me look at your injuries.”

  She colored slightly as if uncomfortable with his attention. “They are not severe.”

  “Still, they need attention.”

  He sat her down in front of the fire, selected a cloth from the small kitchen and dampened it with water from the nearby pitcher. Returning to where she sat, he gently rubbed the dried blood from her neck.

  The bruise on her cheek, just under her right eye, had darkened to purple. He brushed a feathery kiss across the spot, delighting in the feel of her skin beneath his lips.

  “This is more complicated than I dreamed,” she mumbled. She bit her bottom lip in consternation, and her face was rife with conflict.

  “We’ll set it to rights,” he vowed, wishing to wipe the anguish from her voice.

  “Thank you,” she said raggedly, smiling up at him. She placed her slim hand on his face, and he resisted the urge to nuzzle farther into her palm.

  “You’ve nothing to thank me for.”

  “Indeed I do. You’ve chosen to help me at great risk of peril to yourself. My country owes you a great debt.”

  “Leaudor owes me nothing,” he said firmly. “It is in England’s best interest to have you installed on the throne.”

  A peculiar expression lit her eyes. “And is that why you are helping me? Because England demands it?”

  He looked at her in puzzlement. “My first loyalty is to the crown. Surely you understand that as ruler of your own country. My obligation is to see you safely back to Leaudor and find out precisely how this affects England’s future.”

  Her eyes became shuttered. “Leaudor has no need of England’s help. I am sure your assistance would be better put to use here on your own soil. Once I am on the ship, there is no need for you to accompany me further.”

  “If you think I will leave you to return to certain death in Leaudor, you underestimate me. I will not leave you until I am certain you are completely safe.”

  “Ahh yes, your duty demands it,” she said mockingly.

  He frowned, wondering why sharpness edged her words. He stood and laid aside the rag he had cleaned her wound with. “You need to rest. We’ve a long, arduous trip ahead, and you’ve been through a hellish night. I’ll stand guard while you sleep.”

  She stood stiffly and followed him over to the couch. He wanted to reach out to her, ask her why the change in demeanor, but he said nothing. She was likely exhausted.

  When she settled onto the couch, he pulled a blanket over her. “I’ll wake you if the captain returns.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. He took up position by the window so he could survey the outside perimeter.

  A few minutes barely passed before she was soundly asleep. He watched from across the room, clenching his fists as his gaze roved over the marks on her face.

  Turning his attention back to the window, he continued his close perusal, searching for any disturbance. He desperately needed to get a message to Kirk.

  In the meantime, his most important task was making sure Isabella returned to Leaudor. Alive.

  * * *

  When Isabella awoke, the interior of the room was dark. A lone candle flickered in the corner, casting very little light. Her eyes adjusted as she sat up, and she could see Merrick’s large frame standing by the window.

  She studied him for a long moment as he stared intently out the window. As much as he irritated her with his annoying sense of perception and his overprotective tendencies, she felt keen disappointment that he saw her as nothing more than a duty to perform.

  At some point the intimacy they shared had come to mean something to her. Obviously more than it meant to him. And perhaps she should follow his suit. After all, she was in even less a position to get sidelined from her duty.

  Duty. Such a nasty word. Would that neither of them had such differing obligations. But it did her little good to dream the impossible. For no matter how much she may wish the past away, it had irrevocably changed the future. A future she was powerless to change.

  She had no doubt that Merrick truly felt protective of her and was wholeheartedly devoted to returning her safely to Leaudor and seeing her ascend the throne. His sense of duty would countenance no other possibility.

  But she wanted to be more than his latest assignment. More than a name on a report to his superiors.

  “Has the captain returned?” she asked, her soft voice drifting across the distance.

  He turned around and walked over to the couch. He settled down beside her and cupped her cheek in his hand. “How do you feel?”

  “Much better,” she admitted. “I was far more tired than I thought.” She shrugged out of his hand and looked away, feeling discomfited by his piercing eyes. As proficient as he was in reading her thoughts, she had no desire for him to be privy to all she had been mulling over.

  “To answer your question, no, the captain hasn’t returned. I’m growing concerned. I thought he would be back by now.”

  “I am sure he will return soon,” she said, forcing lightness into her voice. Anything to get over the awful discomfort she felt in his presence now. “What time is it anyway?”

  “It’s nearly midnight.”

  She gasped in surprise. “I had no idea I had slept that long.”

  “You needed it,” he reminded her.

  He rose and extended a hand to help her up. “Let’s look in the captain’s kitchen and see if there is anything for us to eat.”

  Ignoring his outstretched hand, she rose and straightened her clothing.

  He collected the candle and carried it into the kitchen ahead of her. They sat down at a small table near a window and munched on a loaf of bread they had found in the pantry.

  She cursed the disappearance of their easy camaraderie. It was her doing. Her inability to separate her growing dependence on him and her enormous responsibilities. Just hours earlier, they would have shared more than bread. They would have shared companionship and friendship.

  In the back of her mind, she imagined her mother and father sitting in their cottage after a hard day of farming and eating a loaf of bread just as she and Merrick were doing. She’d trade all the royal jewels and the throne itself to be in that cottage with her parents, living a simple life. At least she would still have them.

  “Piece of bread for your thoughts,” he said, extending the crust heel.

  She attempted a smile. “I was imagining Mother and Father in a cottage such as this.”

  His eyes softened, and he took hold of her hand across the table. “When you return to Leaudor, perhaps you can visit their cottage once everything has been returned to rights.”

  “I should like to live there,” she said ruefully. “I am not sure I will be a suitable queen. I certainly never expected to become Leaudor’s ruler.”

  “Just as I never expected to become earl, but we do what we must. You will adapt.”

  “Are you always so pragmatic?” she asked with an arched eyebrow. She wanted to ask him if he were always so disgustingly levelheaded. Did he never do anything remotely rash? Irresponsible? She clenched her teeth to staunch the tide of accusations. Perhaps she was overwrought. She had no reason to lambaste him, and moreover, she ought to be grateful for his extreme calm and intelligence.
It had certainly kept her alive thus far.

  They were interrupted by the opening of the front door. Merrick whirled around as the captain entered the cottage.

  “I’ve readied my ship,” he announced in a tired voice. “We’ll board in a few hours and set sail with the first wind.”

  “Did you have any difficulty?” Merrick asked.

  The captain removed his hat and scratched his head. “No, but the town is buzzing. The reward has been raised for information on the woman criminal and her companion.”

  “And the men you hired. Can they be trusted?” Isabella asked.

  “Aye. That they can. They’ve sailed with me many a time. I’d trust them with my life.”

  Merrick nodded. “Then all that is left is to make it back into town without notice and board the ship.”

  “I’ve made arrangements that may not be to your liking, but it was the only way to get you on the ship without someone seeing you,” the captain said, looking cautiously at the two of them.

  She looked enquiringly at him and he continued.

  “You’ll get into a crate which my men will then transport to the ship. You’ll be mixed in with all the cargo.”

  “You’ve thought of everything,” Merrick said approvingly.

  “If all goes well, we can be in Leaudor in as little as two days.”

  Her breath left her in a rush. Two days. She wanted to weep and laugh all at the same time. For as much as the thought of going home frightened her immeasurably, she could hardly wait to step onto Leaudorian soil.

  Merrick reached out to squeeze her hand. She said nothing, but returned his squeeze with one of her own.

  Her brief moment of joy was brought to a crashing halt when a knock sounded at the door. Merrick immediately shoved her behind him, and the captain glanced frantically around.

  “To the bedroom, both of you,” he said, gesturing frantically toward the back of the house. “There is a large trunk Her Highness can hide in.”

  Simon took Isabella by the arm and all but dragged her with him to the bedroom. He threw open the trunk at the foot of the bed and ushered her inside. After making sure she was tucked into it, he closed the lid. Now where in the name of God was he going to hide?

  After a quick perusal of the room, he resigned himself to the fact that if anyone came this far, he’d just have to fight his way out because there was not a place he could fit his large frame. Withdrawing the dagger from his boot, he eased to the door and placed his ear to it.

  “I heard you were putting out tonight,” he heard an unfamiliar voice say.

  “Aye, that is so,” the captain replied.

  “I’d like to hire on. I’m badly in need of the work.”

  “Well, lad, I’d like to help you, but I’ve got a full crew already. We’re just heading down the coast for a short haul to Brighton.”

  Simon strained to hear the rest. The man hesitated a moment then said, “I heard you might be going to Leaudor.”

  “Leaudor? Is that where you’re going, my boy?” The captain chuckled. “Everyone knows the ports are closed to foreign ships. If you want passage to Leaudor, I’m afraid you are out of luck.”

  The voices grew dimmer and Simon could no longer make out what they were saying. A few minutes later, the door pushed into his cheek, and he stepped rapidly back. The captain stood in the doorway.

  “You can come out now.”

  Simon hurried to the trunk and opened the lid. Isabella scrambled out, her breath coming in spurts.

  “Thank goodness,” she said heavily. “I was about to smother.”

  “Who was it?” he asked the captain as they returned to the sitting room.

  The captain busied himself adjusting the curtains, then he extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness.

  He moved back toward Simon and Isabella and lit a smaller taper then motioned them into the kitchen. “Stranger. Not a local. Said he wanted to hire on my ship.” A look of blatant disbelief twisted his face. “Rubbish. I don’t believe for a minute he was a sailor.”

  “How are we going to get into town unnoticed?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  Simon curled an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. If only he could take away her fear and anxiety. “Don’t worry, Isabella. We will come up with a plan.”

  “The house will be watched for sure,” the captain said grimly. “Getting the two of you out of here will be tricky at best.”

  Simon paced back and forth, his mind whirling with possible options. None seemed viable enough. They were too dangerous, or too obvious. There had to be a way he and Isabella could escape to the harbor.

  He turned to the captain. “Do you have a cart?”

  Captain Martin nodded.

  Simon pressed his lips together. “I may have a way. It’s risky, but then the alternative is certain capture.”

  Isabella looked dubiously at him. “What do you have in mind?”

  “The captain could take out pulling the cart. We could stow some barrels in the back and cover them with blankets. If anyone is watching, they would naturally assume we are hiding in the cart.”

  Isabella’s eyes lit up, glowing brightly in the candlelight. “Of course! And then we could sneak away while they are occupied with the cart and rendezvous with the captain in town.”

  Simon nodded. “Exactly.”

  The captain rubbed his chin in his hand. “It just might work. It doesn’t appear that we have a choice in the matter. I’ll set to work at once preparing the cart, and I’ll depart within the hour. Meet me behind the tavern, but don’t go in.”

  He exited the back of the house, leaving Simon and Isabella alone. The two sat in front of the fire, waiting tensely for the captain to return. Half an hour later, he strode back in and looked over at them. “It’s time.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Isabella twisted her fingers nervously as Merrick kept watch from the window. The captain had been gone ten minutes, and the plan was for her and Merrick to leave in five more.

  Fear and anticipation warred within her, sending her stomach into turmoil. They were so close to achieving their goal, and yet it seemed an impossible feat. She whispered the familiar prayer her mother had taught her as a child in a fervent attempt to bolster her courage.

  “Are you ready?” Merrick murmured beside her.

  She swallowed and nodded.

  He took her hand, and his dark eyes reached out to her, comforting her and infusing her with confidence. “We’ll make it, Isabella. Trust me.”

  Struck by the irony of his words, she attempted a smile. Just days ago, it would have made her physically ill to consider trusting anyone, and now, she trusted this man implicitly. For if nothing else, he would see her safely home, or die trying.

  With a deep breath, she grasped his hand, and they walked to the back door. After a quick perusal of the surroundings from the window, he opened the door and motioned her to follow him. Shrouded in darkness, they ran for the stable.

  Merrick wasted no time saddling the horse. Instead he swung up on its bare back and reached down to pull Isabella up. He pulled his pistol from his breeches and handed it to her. “I assume you can shoot.”

  Not bothering to answer, she grasped the handle and held it tightly against her.

  He urged the horse forward and they rode out of the stable and directly into the thick forest behind the house. There was little in the way of moonlight to guide them as they forged blindly ahead.

  With each passing minute, she was convinced someone would leap out of the trees, but the woods remained eerily silent. The cold seeped into her bones, and she clamped her mouth shut to prevent her teeth from chattering.

  The few miles into town stretched into an eternity. Hours passed it seemed, and yet they hadn’t yet breached the outskirts. Her nerves were a jumbled mass of jam, and her anxiety increased as more time elapsed.

  When a rabbit ran across their path and disappea
red into the brush, she nearly fell from the horse. Merrick’s arm tightened around her, and he whispered in her ear, “Careful. I wouldn’t want the gun to go off and do me permanent injury.”

  His teasing lessened her tension, and she relaxed against him, careful to maintain a tight grip on the pistol. When the forest opened up suddenly and the shadow of a cottage loomed ahead, she leaned forward eagerly. They had made it.

  Merrick pulled the horse to a stop a short distance from the cottage and slid off. He held his arms up to her, and she went without hesitation, though a thousand questions burned in her mind.

  Before she could voice any of them, he tied the horse to a nearby tree and took her hand. As they walked away from the house, he said in a low voice, “I think it best if we walk the rest of the way. A horse will gain us larger notice, and we need to melt into the shadows.”

  Of course he would have a solid reason for leaving their horse, and they wouldn’t be able to take it on the ship anyway. She tried to temper her eagerness and slow her pace. She was in danger of dragging him behind her in her haste to get to the tavern and one step closer to the ship.

  They hurried between houses, careful to keep in the shadows and out of plain sight. When they neared the tavern, their pace became more cautious. They gave the tavern and the well lit interior a wide birth and circled back from the north.

  Merrick paused a distance from the back and watched for a long period of time. Evidently satisfied that no one was about, he urged Isabella out of the trees and toward the back alley. He hunkered down between the building and the large wooden box used for refuse and motioned for Isabella to do the same.

  As she crouched down beside him, he wrapped his arm around her in an effort to keep her warm. His constant attention to her needs was far more warming than his actual embrace.

  It could be hours yet before the captain summoned them, but she prayed he would do so before dawn. The cover of darkness gave her a sense of security that would be absent in the light of day.

  “I’m going to take a look in the tavern and see who is about,” Merrick said after awhile.