By The Assassin's Side (Daggers 0f Desire Book 3)

by Katherine Hastings

  “Is this a family home?” she asked while he led her through the party into the quiet wing on the east side. “It’s so big and impressive.”

  The complimentary words made him grow taller. “No, I built this one myself just twenty years ago. I inherited a manor on this property, but it had seen better days, so I had it torn down and rebuilt new. I’m glad you like it.”

  The corridor stretched out in front of them. Gold and red tapestries lined the way. He pointed out the portraits of his ancestors hanging from the stone walls. She listened intently, trying to play the part of a young woman impressed by his wealth and wisdom. A woman eager to do whatever it took to win his favor.

  They turned a corner into another wing of the manor. Two guards stood at attention in front of a large golden door. The treasure room. It has to be.

  “What’s behind that door?” she asked innocently.

  “That room? Oh, that is where I keep a few trinkets I have collected over the years. Historical artifacts and such. I’m sure it’s nothing that would interest you.”

  “History? Oh, Baron. I’m such a huge fan of history. I wouldn’t mind seeing what sorts of wonders you have acquired over the years.” She pulled him to a stop.

  “I’m not sure that–”

  “It would also be nice for you and me to have a few moments... alone.” She slipped her hand up onto his chest, flashing promises of intense pleasure with her eyes. The bewitching smile that had shattered the composure of hundreds of men stretched across her face.

  His eyes widened, his head nodding before he could deny her the request. “Open the doors,” he shouted to the guards.

  Vivian fought her satisfied smile when he walked her through the doors and into the lavish treasure room. There was no need to be a trained assassin to gain entry when she was flush with the skills needed to bend any man to her will. Now to find the map and relieve the Baron of it would show Simon that she was more than just a high-paid courtesan.

  Glass cases perched on gold pedestals dotted the expansive room. Antique swords and shields hung from the stone walls and glistened in the light of the chandeliers swinging from the vaulted ceiling. She followed the baron into the center of the room, his pride obvious when he gestured around.

  “My collection,” he boasted. “Artifacts plucked from every corner of the world.”

  There was no need to feign admiration. The collection was impressive even to someone who didn’t have an appreciation for arts and history. Vivian sauntered to a glass enclosure that encased a jeweled sword, rusted and worn, but spectacular nonetheless.

  “From the crusades,” he said, appearing at her side.

  “Incredible.” She walked to the next case. A worn leather-bound book spread open against the silk piled beneath it. “And this?”

  “Written in the 15th century by monks.” He touched the glass with a gentle hand.

  Though impressed, she almost broke down and sighed her disappointment. Making her way from one case to the next, she finally saw it... the other half of the map. The paper, the same worn grey. The writing and colors matching the one she had confiscated. The rip down the center, a jagged edge, the perfect match. She had found it. Attempting to hide her true interest as her heart flipped over, she stepped on to the next case, leaning down to examine the crown inside.

  Baron Walcott stepped up behind her. His breath brushed the exposed back of her neck. She could feel his body pressing close to hers, too close. Forcing the revulsion down, she turned to meet him.

  “I am so impressed with this, Baron. With everything. With... you,” she crooned. A glance at his thin lips helped seal her false intents. It took no more encouragement, his body pressed into hers, his hand rose to touch her face.

  “I can show you something else very impressive, Lady Delouise.”

  Her stomach churned, but she pressed on. Stroking his chest, she met his gaze. “It is an honor to have someone of your wisdom, your caliber, bestow such attentions on me.”

  A smug smile crossed the lips that moved now toward her.

  “But first,” she said, stopping his advance, “I would like a little more champagne. I’ve never done this before and I’m nervous and quite flustered. Is it all right if I have a moment to compose myself?”

  Innocent eyes pleaded with him. It only flamed the desire in his eyes.

  “Of course. I’ll return with champagne in a few minutes. I look forward to our time together.”

  He pulled back and turned on his heel, heading out the door. The two guards pulled them shut, sealing her in alone. Vivian wasted no time and hustled over to the case separating her from the promise of fortune and a life forever changed. Gentle hands lifted the glass and carefully pulled the map from its resting place. Rolling it up tight, she slid it down between her breasts. She lifted the glass cover back into place, hoping the baron wouldn’t notice anything was amiss when he returned and found her gone.

  “Vivian! Stop!” Simon’s voice nearly caused her to drop the glass, shattering it and any chance of sneaking out of here undetected.

  She spun to see him descending with ease from the rafters. A final swing dropped him at her feet. He rose, towering above her with a scowl. His prowess and stealth sent her heart aflutter.

  “Put it back. Now!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “HOW DID YOU—” SHE STARTED, but stumbled over her words while she glanced up at the soaring rafters. “That must be twenty feet up! And the guards, there is no way you...”

  “There’s no time!” he cut her off. “Put that back now and get the hell out of here!”

  “Put it back? You must be joking! I have it! We need to go!”

  Her tempestuous nature blinded her from the gravity of her decision. The repercussions would be swift and lasting. He had to make her see reason.

  “Vivian, right now we have Captain Cyrus hot on our tail. If you take the map now, Baron Walcott will know it was you and we may also have the proper authorities chasing us as well. Put it back. I’ll come back for it at the end of the week when suspicions will no longer be on you.”

  Worry lined her face and caused her to bite her lip. Those fierce green eyes no longer held the confidence he was used to seeing in them. They darted between the door and the empty case before settling back on his. “What if you can’t get back in here?”

  “I can. With ease. Did you not see my entrance?” He pointed toward the rafters suspended above them.

  Her voice jumped several octaves. “What if they get to the map first? What if it’s gone when you come back?”

  “It won’t be. Vivian. You have to trust me! Put it back!”

  “I need this, Simon!” she hissed in hushed tones. “This map is the key to my freedom! I won’t risk it. I’m taking it.”

  “Vivian... please. Trust me,” he pleaded. Trust was not something she gave easily, and his embarrassing behavior all day certainly hadn’t helped him win her over, but he needed her to do this. It was the only way to keep her out of this... to ensure her safety.

  Her face hardened. “No. I’m walking out of here with this map right now. You can’t stop me.”

  An inward groan shut his eyes. Short of ripping open her dress, removing the map, and dragging her out of here, there was nothing he could do to alter this course. If he had more time before the Baron returned, he would have done it if it meant keeping her safe.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rumbled. “So, what is your plan?”

  “I’m going to just walk right out and say I need to use the powder room.”

  “And if you run into Baron Walcott on your way out?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll tell him I changed my mind.”

  “And if he doesn’t listen and forces himself on you and finds the map, then what?”

  “I don’t know.” Her resolve weakened.

  “Bloody hell, Vivian, did you plan this out at all?” he snarled.

  “No! I’m just figuring this out as I go.”


  Voices coming down the hall turned both their heads to the door. Simon’s hand hovered over his dagger. “We need to move. Now.”

  “Where? How do we get out?”

  There was no time to come up with a new plan. If she tried to walk out, she ran the risk of being stopped and caught. If she snuck out, it would alert them that something was amiss and hasten a search for stolen things. Only one viable option remained, put the map back and go about their business. With her heels dug in deep that wasn’t going to happen, so he selected plan B. “There’s a window over there. It’s how I got in. I climbed out onto the ledge down the hall and followed your little story time with the Baron and slipped in while you were talking. Follow me.”

  No hesitation slowed her steps when he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. At least she was listening to him now. If only she would heed his dire warnings and put the damn map back. The window he’d climbed through was still cracked open, just as he had left it. He shimmied up the wall and out the window to the ledge perched just higher than his head. His strong arm stretched down and clasped tight around her wrist. With a pull, he yanked her up and out the window to his side onto the stone ledge running the perimeter of the manor.

  “Oh shite,” she gasped, pressing her body back against the wall. “It’s a long way down.”

  “Just stay tight to the wall and follow me. Don’t look down.”

  “Too late,” she said, swallowing hard. Her eyes fixated on the ground thirty feet below them.

  Simon pulled the window shut to lessen their chances of discovery. One cautious step at a time he started his way around the ledge. Without her he could cover ground quite quickly. Even with his size, and the ledge only one foot wide, his impeccable balance made situations like these easy for him. Vivian’s fear and inexperience, however, forced him to move with slow, deliberate steps.

  “Simon, I’m scared,” she said, creeping along behind him.

  “I know, Vivian. But don’t be. I won’t let you fall. I promise.” He looked back at her. Those ferocious eyes swelled with fear. Seeing her disarmed, vulnerable, twisted the knife in his gut a little deeper about how he had treated her all day. He was wrong, and she had been right in the tongue lashing she gave him. Her life had not been easy, and why he expected her to throw herself into his arms after just days of knowing him was foolish and naïve. He could only hope the damage he had done was not irreparable, and perhaps with a little more time he could prove to her he was a good man... one she could trust and depend on. One who would never hurt her as so many had done in the past... even himself earlier today.

  Simon paused when they reached the end of the building. Corners were tricky and in her dress, with her lack of experience, he worried about getting her safely around.

  “There is a porch just a little farther down,” he whispered. “We can climb onto it, shimmy down the lattice legs, and then make a run for the stables. First, we need to get around this corner. Just stay flat against the wall, shuffle your feet and don’t look down. Okay?”

  A nod was her only response. The color had drained from her face. He reached out and took her hand. Her fingers entangled with his own, the tight squeeze she returned deepened his need to protect her. Holding her hand, he rounded the corner himself. There was a moment of hesitation before she attempted the corner. Just as she started the maneuver he saw her eyes plummet to the ground below.

  “Oh God!” she groaned. Her body teetered, the vertigo causing her to stumble. A shriek escaped her lips when her feet slipped off the ledge. His heart dropped watching her tumble over the side.

  “Vivian!” he shouted. His hand locked around hers like a vise, clamping down while he braced for the impact of her weight. It pulled him forward when her body reached the limit of his reach, the jerk nearly pulling him from his braced stance. Pressing back against the wall, Simon held tight, looking down to see the whites of her eyes while she swung below him.

  “Hold tight!” he shouted. Moving a few feet down, she bumped along the wall below him. With one long pull he drew her over toward the porch. His muscles burned as he held her fast. He wouldn’t let her go... he couldn’t. He would sooner fall with her than release his grip and see her torn from his life.

  “I’m going to swing you to the porch! Just grab onto the railing.”

  Several more cautious steps brought him to swinging range. Leaning back to keep from falling forward, he swung his arm, and with it Vivian, who dangled below him.

  “Grab the railing!” he shouted down to her. Her body flew to the railing beside him. She grunted when her stomach collided. Wrapping her arms around the white balcony, she released his hand and clung on tight. Free of her weight, Simon leapt to the balcony and grabbed her around the waist. With one tug she was safe in his arms. He enveloped her with his body, pulling her tight into his embrace. Her own arms wrapped around him when she collapsed panting against his chest.

  “Are you all right? Are you hurt? God, I thought I lost you.” Simon stroked her face, the fear dissipating. She puffed beneath him, words still refusing to form. “You’re safe, Vivian. You’re safe. I will never let anything happen to you.”

  “Thank you,” the words finally squeaked out. She trembled in his arms. “I thought... I thought—”

  “No need to think on it again,” he stopped her, not able to tolerate shining the light on such dire thoughts. “You’re safe and I am going to get you out of this. We need to move though."

  “Is it too late to go back?” she asked meekly. “Maybe we can crawl back in and I’ll just put the map back and walk on out of here. It will be like nothing happened.”

  Simon searched her fear-filled eyes. There was no joy in being right. All he wanted was to get her to safety.

  “It’s too late for that, Viv. We need to keep going.”

  “Are you sure? I think we can make it back in time.”

  “Guards! I’ve been robbed!” The baron’s voice echoed in the room behind them, muffled by the thick stone walls. The guards would be on them soon. They needed to move.

  “There’s no going back. Can you climb?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t stop shaking.”

  Simon rubbed her arms and squeezed her tighter. “Try not to think about it. Did you used to climb trees as a child?”

  She nodded her head.

  “We will pretend the lattice legs of this porch are trees. Just like when you were a kid, we will shimmy right on down. I’ll go first. I’ll be there to catch you if you fall. Do you trust me?”

  Her face froze and her eyes searched his own. Finally, her head tipped up and down.

  “Good,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Now, on your feet. We need to get out of here. Fast.”

  Her limp muscles found their resolve as he helped her stand straight up. Cupping her face in his hands he gave her a smile. “You can do this. Trust me.”

  Simon stepped to the edge of the porch and climbed over the railing. The lattice lining the pillars made for perfect grips to shimmy down. He paused while he waited for her to do the same. With a deep breath, she hiked up her skirt and followed him over the ledge. Inch by inch they worked their way down. When his feet touched the soft grass below, he reached up and pulled her down into his arms. Her body went limp, exhaustion and fear finally releasing her muscles.

  “There, see? Not so bad. I’ve got you down safe and sound. Can you walk?”

  “I think so. My legs feel like stew,” she said, cracking a smile.

  “I’ll help you.” Simon let her feet slip to the ground but left his arm around her waist for support. “The stable should be just over there. We need to grab our horses and ride like hell. Can you do that?”

  “Just get me the hell out of here.”

  He grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  With each step her walking became easier and her weight on him lessened. By the time they crept through the gardens and reached the stable she was walking on her own. Peering over a hedge, Simon saw
their mounts tied to a post munching on bags of hay suspended above them.

  “Stay here. I’ll get the horses.”

  Crouching low, he moved across the yard letting the darkness conceal him. The horses snorted, nostrils flaring as they sensed him drawing near.

  “Easy, boy,” he said, rising when he reached his gelding. The animal settled with a touch. Easing the reins from the hitch he guided both horses around the corner and paused when he heard footsteps. Holding his breath, he begged the horses to freeze with him. They sensed his seriousness and stood immobile beside him. The groom walked past where they stood frozen in the darkness. When the path was clear, he pushed out a relieved breath.

  “Good ponies,” he said, giving each a quiet pat. They followed him to where Vivian remained crouched in the bushes. Without a word she climbed out and onto her horse. Simon followed suit and swung up, giving her a nod before tearing off across the lawn for the cover of the woods just a short sprint away.

  Pushing his horse hard, he bolted into the woods with Vivian just behind him. They put several minutes of hard galloping between them and Hawthorne Manor before he took his first deep breath. The gelding skidded to a stop when Simon pulled on the reins, his sides heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Her mare pulled up beside them, nostrils flaring, sweat slicked down the length of her neck.

  “Are we safe?” Vivian panted.

  “As safe as we’re going to be. The horses need to catch their breath. We have to get to the inn, get our things, and get as far away from Liverpool as we can. The authorities will be looking for you.”

  Worry flashed in her eyes with that sentence. As angry as he was about her arbitrary behavior, battering her because of her choices would only widen the space between them. Healing the damage his earlier harsh words had caused was more important than scolding her now. Gaining her trust was all that mattered.