Vic strode over to the target and removed the arrow he’d shot earlier.
It took every bit of will to peel her gaze off Victor, but she wasn’t going to win this stupid wager without a good weapon.
She looked away and turned toward the nearby table.
Rummaging through her options from the supply laid out, she easily selected a bow and a cache of arrows, the ends of which were fletched with red and white striped feathers.
Armed, she joined Vic next to the bull’s-eye and pivoted to face the other target on the opposite end of the armory. “Who’s up first?”
“I’d be that rogue you mistakenly think I am if I did not let you shoot first.” He waved her on.
“I still think you a rogue.”
Vic shook his head, his black-as-night hair shiny in the soft light of the chamber’s five massive candle-lit chandeliers. The wrought iron fixtures dangled like rustic crowns from the vaulted ceiling, giving the room a medieval feel.
She could easily envision Victor dressed in one of the armory’s suits of chainmail. He’d make a dashing hero on the battlefield or on the jousting field.
Heat flamed her cheeks.
Charlotte swallowed and wiped all thoughts of her tempting prince from her mind, raised her bow and nocked its arrow. She focused on the target’s center ring. With a snap, she released her shot.
Whoosh.
Smack.
“Almost dead center, Your Royal Highness,” she said, staring proudly at the target.
“Almost doesn’t count.”
“It will be very difficult to best me on that shot.”
Victor smirked but said nothing as he readied his bow and took his own try at the bull’s-eye.
A second later his arrow knocked Charlotte’s off the surface. “Apparently, not that difficult, Miss Appleton.”
Her shoulders slumped as she walked the length of the armory to shoot at the opposite target. “Fine. You’ve won your question. Ask away.”
He lowered his bow and headed in her direction. A serious look veiled his face. “Why did you push me away?”
She considered her words carefully as outright lying would only get her in trouble down the road. Sticking as close to the truth as possible without divulging the more serious details of her predicament was the only option. “I courted danger.”
“How so?”
“That’s two questions, sir.”
“Bloody hell, Charlie. This is my heart you’re dealing with.”
“Fair is fair.” She winced. She hated being so cold, but it was for Vic’s own safety.
“Fine,” he said. “Proceed.”
She did. And this time the arrow came a slight bit closer to the center, but still not as accurate as was Vic’s in the last round.
Her princely opponent followed and bested her yet again.
She hadn’t even bothered making a snide remark as the man was starting to make her nervous for having accepted the wager. The truth could not come out.
Victor lowered his bow and glared at her, the stern look sending a shiver down her spine. “As I asked before, how so? And don’t dawdle.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re stalling.”
She plucked her first arrow from the bull’s-eye and strode back across the chamber, then turned around. She reached over her shoulder and withdrew a new arrow from the quiver at her back. “I came across information that was not meant for my eyes.”
His severe look softened as he stepped up next to her. “Are you in danger still? And don’t give me that bloody two questions answer again.”
Charlotte held her head high but refused to look him in the eye. “Yes.”
“Christ, Charlie. Why didn’t you come to me?”
She studied the bull’s-eye and drew the bow.
She shot the arrow.
It stabbed the target exactly in the middle of its center.
Charlotte shrieked. “Beat that, Prince.”
Vic glowered. He didn’t even bother to turn and face the bull’s-eyes. He simply aimed his bow from a sideway stance and took the shot in a matter of seconds.
Her arrow split in half. “That’s impossible. You hardly glanced at the circles.”
“Rule number one when accepting a wager: know your opponent. I’m Countavia’s most skilled military archer.”
“You never said.”
“I don’t care to boast about my skills.” He stepped her way and reached for her chin, ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I prefer to show them.”
She knew that to be fact as he had showed her many skills during their time together. And as much as she wished she could spew off a good retort, her hot little nub was once again caving to the man’s abilities. Greedy little bitch. “What’s rule number two?” She needed a diversion.
He cocked his head to one side. “You, my dear, have not earned the right to ask any questions. But I have. And I demand my winnings. Now why didn’t you come to me when you realized you were in danger?”
“Because you’re the one I’m protecting.”
HE DIDN’T KNOW HOW to respond to an answer he wasn’t expecting. Instead, Vic simply reached around his shoulder and removed the quiver of arrows from his back and placed it, along with his bow, on one of the tables lined up between the suits of armor. “Protecting me from what?”
“I can’t say.”
“This is not a game.”
“You misunderstand me. I mean I don’t know.”
What the hell had the woman gotten herself into? “How can you be protecting someone if you don’t know what puts them in danger?” He took Charlotte’s bow from her hand and set it down next to his on the table. A whiff of violet peeled from the weapon.
“Maybe I should explain from the beginning,” she said while fanning her fingers over the skirt of her gown.
He quirked an eyebrow. “You think?”
Charlotte frowned, her tempting lips dipping down but still looking as sinful as ever. A stray curl fell free from the bun at her nape.
What he’d give to undo all her hair, run his fingers through the thick, brown locks while he took her tempting mouth with his and lost himself in the divine ecstasy that was only Charlotte Appleton.
Vic stepped forward.
Charlotte inched back. “It started with my lost earring.”
“Really?” He eyed her head on.
She nodded. “It was this one.” She pointed to the baroque black pearl earring dangling from her left lobe. “My father found it in his library and told me he’d put it in the desk drawer.”
Vic reached out and toyed with the gem. His hand brushed against Charlotte’s cheek.
She swallowed, her face going flush.
“And?”
“I went to the library the night we were due at the palace for dinner. I overheard my father and uncle talking.”
“Mister Woodbury?”
“Yes, that uncle.”
He kept his hand at her ear, but now brought it to cup her cheek. “And then what?”
Charlotte took in a deep breath. “My uncle said the king had entrusted him with a letter and he wanted my father to keep it because he felt it was no longer safe at his house.”
“And this letter puts me in danger?” He studied her magnificent blue eyes.
“Yes. Though more precisely, it’s the person who is seeking this letter and what he wishes to do with it, that truly causes you the problem.”
Now she’d piqued his interest to the point he had no choice but to press for the full story. “Go on.”
“I can’t.”
“Why? Is there something else you don’t know?”
Charlotte fisted her hands. “No. It’s just...”
“What?”
She trembled.
With one swift move, Victor embraced Charlotte. He held her close, his arms wrapped tight about her waist. “It’s safe. You’re safe with me.”
A sigh escaped her.
“After I r
etrieved my earring, I noticed the letter in the desk drawer. I read it and tucked it away in the sleeve of my evening glove with the idea to bring it to you at the dinner that night. At the time, I was also holding the invitation to said dinner in my other hand. I closed the drawer and then headed out of the library. As I neared the fireplace, someone accosted me. A man. He came up behind me and wrapped his glove-covered hand over my mouth and said he wanted the letter.” She paused.
He hated to ask for more of the story, but knew if Charlotte didn’t tell him everything now, there was a chance she’d never tell all. “What happened next?”
“I did what I thought was best and tossed the invitation into the fire, hoping the beast behind me would think it was the letter. Which he did. But that only angered him. Then he said if I knew what was best for me, for my family and for the royal family, I’d keep my secrets to myself and never tell anyone about the letter or about him. Or I’d have blood on my hands. Then he pushed me and went out the library window. That’s why I had to break things off between us. I didn’t want that man to see us together and think I told you anything.”
“Do you remember any details about this brute?”
She shook her head. “No. He smelled like leather but that was because he wore gloves. They were black and had stitching that resembled a snake on the fingers. And despite him talking to me, I failed to recognize his voice because it was muffled. I believe he had a neckerchief or something of the sort over his mouth. All I know for certain is that he was a man.”
Knowing only that Charlotte’s attacker was male wasn’t going to make it easy on Vic and his brothers to track the brute. But the snake design on the gloves was priceless. The man obviously was a member of the Knights Venomous, Countavia’s most brutal group of anti-monarchists. The same group from where the serial killer he’d been tracking, hailed from. “Do you still have the letter?”
“Yes.”
“Good. After this weekend when you get back to Landon, you must come see me. I’ll need the letter.”
“You don’t have to wait. I brought it with me, but even if I hadn’t, I memorized every word for safekeeping.”
God, but the woman was brilliant. “Are you up to telling me now what it said?”
She nodded. “Of course. It was a simple note. ‘My Dear B. Protect your throne at all cost. Tell no one our secret. Please keep our child safe. V.’ And it was dated seventeen-seventy-six.”
He knew two people born in that year, his brother Kit, and their closest friend, the Countess Ariana Montgrieve, the woman he and his brothers often suspected of being their half-sister but had no official proof.
Charlotte pulled away from him. She bit her bottom lip as if pondering the whole situation. A look of true concern glossed over her precious face.
“I don’t like seeing you this way, Charlie. I don’t like you being scared.”
“I’m not. I can handle myself. But....”
“What?”
“I have reason to believe the attacker is here.”
That was absurd. “Why would you think such a thing?”
Charlotte wrung her hands. “Because I received a letter two days after my parents accepted my uncle’s invitation to join him here. The letter said eyes would be upon me the whole weekend.”
“Damnit, Charlie, you should have come to me immediately.”
“I know and I’m sorry, but I was worried I’d put you in danger if we were seen together, so I had to wait for the right time.”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m angry at the situation.” He wasn’t going to let Charlotte out of his sight. “Do you suspect any of the guests?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve gone over it in my head many times. Obviously, it’s not my parents or my aunt and uncle. I also doubt it could be Earl Asta, as he’s too in love with the monarchy to want to see it fall. And the Mudleys are Crown solicitors, so they, too, would not want to see your father lose his throne. Which only leaves Miss Radcliff, but she’s here representing Sister Octavia and the Royal Merrick School, so again, keeping your father on the throne would be to her advantage. It’s at these royal house parties where funding is raised for the school.”
Which only left Leo’s own staff, though for the life of him, he could not think of a single person among the small group who’d wish to see the monarchy abolished.
A cough sounded behind him.
Victor turned toward the armory’s entrance.
Phipps stood on the bottom step under the arch, a gold pocket watch held in his hand. “Sorry to disturb you, Miss Appleton, but your mother is inquiring as to your whereabouts.” He shifted his gaze to Victor. “Your brother requests your presence.”
“I have to go,” Charlotte said. “I can’t risk it.”
“This isn’t over.”
He let Charlotte leave on her own, but only because he hadn’t wanted anyone to see them together.
Not knowing his enemy wasn’t making this easy.
He wasn’t even going to tell Phipps about the latest threat to the monarchy. He just prayed he’d be able to keep Charlotte safe for the next three days.
Chapter Five
Between Charlotte’s revelation last night, the horrendous game of charades that followed after they’d rejoined the other guests, and then him having to leave Charlotte in Harry’s care this morning while he dashed off to lead the men on an expedition through Frozen Lane, Victor welcomed the afternoon’s solitude. Though he would have preferred to be spending time with Charlie by his side, but knew better after the tongue lashing she’d given him ten minutes ago. So what if he’d checked in on her every quarter hour? Hadn’t she realized he did so only because he was concerned for her safety?
He sighed. Maybe he did have the tendency to overdo things, but he had reason behind his actions.
He mentally went over each member of the Hall’s staff. For the life of him, he could not peg one servant as an enemy. Only an insane criminal would come this far north, care to spend his days in a frozen landscape. Even the Devil would freeze at Frost Lake. Which made the scenario all the more troublesome because if some dastardly soul had come to Frost Lake Hall solely to seek out Charlotte, then the man was beyond dangerous. Maybe he was even deranged enough to be the serial killer he’d been seeking.
A shudder snaked through his veins. Going there wasn’t even an option. At least he prayed it wouldn’t be.
Where the bloody hell was Leopold?
He gazed at the clock on the mantle. His brother hadn’t been seen since that obstinate Earl Asta poked fun at him during that stupid game of charades last night. But Leo had to show up eventually. He always did.
Vic toyed with the pillow on the sofa.
Charlotte loved sitting with him in front of the fire in his rooms at Baine Palace, her perfect legs tucked up under her, her head resting on his shoulder. He’d give anything to have her next to him this very minute.
He brought the pillow closer, but it was no substitute for his warm-blooded lady.
Christ, but he was a goner where Charlotte mattered. He’d do anything for the woman. And Heaven help him once she realized the fact.
The thump of bootheels striking marble, filtered in from the hall.
He turned toward the door and found Leopold crossing the threshold. “About time.”
“Glad t...to see your sorry ass, t...too, brother.”
He huffed. “Where did you go last night?”
“The Lodge.”
Running away wasn’t going to solve his brother’s problems, but Leo thought differently. It’s the reason he’d squirreled himself away at Frost Lake Hall, to escape Parliament and their mistreatment of him due to his nerves which often caused him to stutter. Having to face one of the men who hated him most, last night, only added to Leo’s insecurities. “I’m sure Asta meant nothing by his stupidity. I doubt he’s uncovered your masquerade as he hadn’t mentioned it this morning, didn’t even drop the simplest hint that he thought you were not the Lord Orso you hav
e been pretending to be.”
Leo took a seat on the sofa opposite Vic. “I wouldn’t have had to use a false identity if you and Harry hadn’t wrangled me into joining you all last night and then playing that dumb game of charades. I was almost up the stairs and on my way to escaping without anyone knowing I was here, when the two of you insisted that I spend time with the guests.” He stretched his long legs out in front of him, then wiped a speck of dust from his black trousers.
“I’m sorry for that, truly I am.” If only he could see his mistakes before they happened. “Have you made any progress on tracking the Knights Venomous?”
“A little, but not much. Phipps has a man on it.”
“Can you trust him?”
“Of course. Phipps wouldn’t involve someone he didn’t feel was loyal.”
“I was referring to Phipps, himself.”
Leopold’s mouth gaped. “What are you getting at?”
He stretched and handed Leo the letter Charlotte had found in her father’s desk. “Charlotte gave me this before breakfast, though she told me about it last night. I think it’s tied to those bloody knights.”
Unfolding the paper, Leopold studied the note. “I take it you think Dad is B?”
“And maybe Ari is the child.”
“Then this is proof that she’s our sister.”
Their brother Kit was not going to be pleased with the news as they all suspected him of having feelings for Arianna. “Well, it doesn’t actually name her or state that Dad is her father.”
Leo folded the note and handed it back to Victor. “I’d like to know who this V person is.” He toyed with a button on his waistcoat, its gold-etched surface standing out stark against the garment’s burgundy hue. “Maybe you should discuss the matter with Kit.”
He’d like nothing more, but that meant waiting until Monday as he couldn’t walk out on the house party without raising suspicion. Plus, he wasn’t keen to leave Charlotte in danger for the next three days. He trusted no one with her care. “Someone threatened Charlotte and they made it sound as if they were going to be here this weekend.”
“Well, don’t look for your man among my staff. They’re a small number and I know them all. But the palace did send over a large group of servants to pick up the slack for this weekend. Are any of them new?”
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 70
