Chapter Sixteen
Gil leaped to his feet as soon as the door opened. Charlotte slipped inside and listened at the door intently, so he remained silent. Knowing her incredible skills, she probably already knew the threat. Shouting at her to pack up her countless trunks wouldn’t help.
She turned and jerked with surprise to find him waiting, her hand rising up to her heart as though he’d startled her.
Suspicious, he turned on the nearby lamp and gasped. “What happened? Are you injured?”
“I’m fine, dearest.” She strode toward the bedchamber, pausing long enough to pat his cheek. She smiled like she’d been to the market and bought an entire shipload of silk and tea, despite the blood and tear in her gown. “Prince Gong took the blade in the back before I could disable the assassin.”
Gil gritted his teeth, fighting to hold back his rage until he could speak reasonably. “You were attacked today? And you didn’t call for me?”
She didn’t answer immediately, which only fueled his frustration and anger. Sig had probably known she was in danger. They shared that sixth sense of communication through her invention. Yet Gil had been stuck here pacing and stewing, waiting for her to return from God knows where so he could tell her that they had to leave. Immediately. Only to find out that someone had already attacked her.
She could have been lying on the floor dead for all he knew, while he waited here helpless and ignorant of the danger.
Some of his ire eased when she set up the disruptor. Of course, she wouldn’t feel comfortable talking until she’d ensured their privacy. “I’m sorry, Gil. I didn’t know how to contact you or I would have.”
“That’s probably something we should rectify.” He was pleased that the words came out without sounding strangled.
“I agree. I can get you a caller like Sig’s with a secure and private line.”
“Or you could put some of your nanobots inside me.”
She froze, her fingers caught at her nape in the act of unhooking the top of her gown. Slowly, she lowered her hands, tipping her head to the side as she watched him. “Are you sure?”
“Sig can sense your whereabouts. I want that too.”
“It’s not as simple as that, dearest. It’s difficult to explain, but there are risks. I wouldn’t—”
“I don’t care,” he interrupted, stepping closer to undo the back of her gown for her. “I want what he has.”
“Even if it changes you?” she whispered.
Firmly, he turned her around to face him. “Yes. You share something with him that I don’t right now. I want to share it with you, both the benefits and the risks. I love you, Charlotte. I’d do anything to keep you safe. I can’t bear the thought of you getting attacked and I have no idea where you are, let alone that you’re in danger. Speaking of which…I’ve got bad news.”
“Me too.” She reached up and untied his simple cravat, tugging his shirt open so she could stroke his neck. “As if another assassination attempt wasn’t dire enough, I believe the Dowager Empress has something dreadful planned tomorrow during the Imperial procession. Since I know about it, she might very well decide to silence us.”
“Oh, that’s all? I had confirmation from Sig that we should get to Oblivion immediately because one of your very good friend’s warships plans to attack tomorrow.”
“No wonder he’s been absent all day.” She jerked open Gil’s trousers while he pulled his shirt over his head. “But how could he know? Unless she contacted him directly.”
Gil cupped her face in both hands and gazed into her eyes solemnly. “He made it sound like good-bye.”
“What? No. That’s ridiculous.”
“He said he must be there because he’s expected, but I should get you away.”
“Why would he be expected by Majel?” She nibbled on her lip, her eyes slipping into that distant, unfocused look she got when her mind was blazing a million miles a minute. “She must be blackmailing him with something, trying to force him into killing me.”
His fingers tightened on her face. He couldn’t help the sudden surge of worry and dread. When he’d first learned about her love for another man—who just happened to be an infamous assassin—he’d been afraid he’d end up dead before he could show her how much he loved her. Now, he feared he might have to kill her other lover to keep her safe.
“He won’t do it,” she said firmly, staring back into Gil’s eyes. “I know him. He’d never betray me like that.”
“Every man has a price, sweetheart. What’s Majel got hanging over him?”
“I don’t know. I can only guess it’s something about his true identity.”
With care, Gil approached the secret that had hung between them for so long. “Do you know who he was in Britannia?”
“No. He’s from a powerful, blooded House, I’ve always known that, but I’ve never asked or tried to find out. I figured if he wanted me to know, he’d tell me or he’d make a joke about it to open the door to discussion. He’s never said one word about it. Did he tell you anything?”
Surprised, Gil thought back to the early days when he’d first met Sig. Could he possibly know something about the man that she didn’t? “He told me his mother abused his father, and his greatest regret was that he didn’t kill her before his father was forced to do it to save him. Then his father killed himself too, leaving Sig alone.”
“So likely both his parents died embroiled in scandal. I don’t recall any such scandal from my days in Society, but I was so distracted and consumed by my tasks for Queen Majel…” She blew out a sigh. “It could take days for me to eliminate possibilities. There are just too many Houses, and unfortunately, too many scandals to discover the truth quickly.”
“He said something about your invention that lives within him. He told me to remind you of it.”
Stepping out of her gown, she sat down at the table and pulled out her datapad. Despite the urgency of the matter, Gil couldn’t help but smile at the image she made. She wore light-pink stockings to midthigh, pink-ribbon garters, and white corset heavily embroidered with pink roses, so pretty and feminine it was a crime to cover it up with a gown. In all the excitement, some of the pins had fallen out of her hair, letting it cascade in a heavy, tangled mass partway down her back like a glossy sable fur.
They’d just been disrobing each other…and now her mind was wholly focused on a new problem. There would be no romantic interlude this night. Not that he minded in the slightest. Lady Doctor Wyre was on the case. The Dowager Empress and Queen Majel had no hope of defeating her brilliant mind.
Clad only in his smallclothes, he picked up her ruined gown and went to the door to speak to one of the maids who always hovered nearby. If she was going to work all night to discover Sig’s secret past, then she’d need a pot of tea.
Charlotte sat back in her chair and hoped she didn’t look as dumbfounded and terrified as she felt. “I’ve found something.”
Gil looked up from the antique book he’d been reading. Or rather, trying to read, because she hadn’t heard him turn a page in at least half an hour. He took one look at her face and jumped to his feet. “Leave your trunks. We’ll get to the ship…”
“Gil,” she interrupted gently, “come sit with me and I’ll tell you what I’ve found. Rushing to flee Zijin won’t help us. It certainly won’t help Sig.”
He sighed but sat down at the table with her. She poured herself another cup of tepid tea and offered him some, but he waved her off. She still thought she was covering her reaction well, until she rattled the teacup in its saucer. At least she was able to pour a cup without spilling it like a down-country girl fresh out of the nursery.
“There’s a device hidden in his body. By the amount of scar tissue fused over the mass, it’s been there for a very long time. Likely his entire life.”
“Like your nanobots?”
She took a sip of tea, wincing at the bitterness. She’d allowed it to steep too long for her tastes. “Not at all. This device
is much larger than mine. It’s also wrapped in some kind of biologic material to keep it from showing up on any sort of regular medical scan. It’s basically invisible. He probably never even knew it was there, until it was too late.”
“Majel must be using it to track him. Us.”
Charlotte’s stomach pitched and she set the teacup aside, unable to tolerate another sip. It’s a sad day when I can’t even enjoy a cup of tea. “Yes. She’s known his location all these years. She could have come after me in Americus while Sig was gone and there’s nothing I could have done to stop it.”
“So why did she wait?”
She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. Majel’s a master at subtlety and patience. Maybe she thought he’d kill me without her having to reveal her hand. Maybe the device malfunctioned at some point and it’s only working now. Who knows? The important thing is that she contacted him here and now. For what purpose, I can only guess, but it wouldn’t have been an accident or happenstance that she’s acting now after waiting for seven years. She’s desperate. Now Sig and I know that she’s got a hold on him—which means I can cut that hold.”
“Then do so.”
She rubbed her temples, trying to think through all her options. “He said once that he could dissolve metal.”
Gil nodded. “I saw him do it once. He busted through a pair of handcuffs when we were arrested in York.”
“So he could destroy the device himself, and he hasn’t.”
“He can’t,” Gil replied slowly, “because he’s going to try and lead her away from you.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to indulge in hysterics. That’d never been her way. But oh, it would be such a relief to simply hold both her men and sob her heart out…once they were all safe. “Exactly. So I can’t disable the device, either, for fear that his plans will go awry too quickly and endanger us all.”
“What exactly is the device sending to her? His location, of course, but what else? Can it record his words, conversations? His thoughts?”
It was a testament to the wondrous things she’d been able to do with technology that Gil actually believed it might be possible for her to use a device to read minds. Although if Sig could send some kind of command to the nanobots using his mind, perhaps it wasn’t a far-fetched possibility. “Without further testing, I don’t know what its limitations are. It’ll be best to be extremely careful with everything we say or do around him.”
“He told me to keep you far away from him.”
She frowned, her stomach clutching into a hard, cold knot. “There might be some kind of destruction device built into it.” Images of the Razari attack fluttered through her mind, bodies twisted and blown apart from within. Shuddering, she turned her attention to the datapad. “I’m programming my nanobots to do more analysis to see if they can carefully tap into whatever it’s sending to Majel and do some diagnostics. She might notice the interference, but I’m counting on this older technology not to have the same sensitivity as mine. I have to know what’s inside that device before it’s too late. How long do we have?”
“He said you must be gone tomorrow at the latest, but he’d rather I get you out now.”
“The Imperial Dragon Procession is tomorrow.”
“Coincidence?”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Which is even more alarming, because that makes me suspect that Queen Majel has gotten to Cixi as well. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Cixi had been playing me all along, planning to deliver me to Majel as soon as I’ve completed enough research for her. It’s brilliant, actually. She gives me to Majel, and Zijin’s spared Britannia’s wrath. Now that I’ve confirmed what she suspected about the dragon’s tie to the Imperial line, Cixi can have Majel do her dirty work and eliminate us all.”
“Then who hired Sig in the first place?”
“I suspect it was Princess Rong’an.”
Gil gasped. “To kill her own brother?”
She loved that he was horrified that a sister would think to have her own brother assassinated. He wasn’t jaded by House politics as she and Sig were. His father had killed his mother. She must be able to use that and track down who he really was. She closed the nanobot program and brought up her archive of the Royal Gazette. If anything of note happened in Londonium Society, it would be there. “Unfortunately, I suspect so. She’s in love with Prince Gong, and if her brother’s out of the way, she hopes the prince will ascend to the Dragon Throne and then they can live happily ever after.”
“Her own brother, and then her uncle. I don’t understand it. I suppose royals are different in that regard.”
Staring at the massive archive of not only her own copies of the news but also her mother’s and grandmother’s before her, she tried to decide where to start. She suspected Sig was approximately her age, perhaps a year or two older but not by much. Yet he’d been long gone from Society before she’d begun to make the usual appearances. Surely she would remember his handsome, dashing self if she’d attended his debut.
So he had to have disappeared from Society before he was sixteen—young, but old enough to make it on his own without his parents. How had he survived all those years alone until he became Lord Regret?
Something niggled the back of her mind. She looked up at Gil. “Would you repeat that last sentence you said?”
“I suppose royals are different?” he said slowly.
Royals. Could it be? That word pinged, lighting up every circuit in her mind. If it was true, then the list of Houses was now significantly smaller. “Sig never mentioned his House, not once. He never talked about his childhood with me. Where he grew up. Nothing. He’s always impeccably dressed, as only the upper crust can be, walking and talking like a fine blue-blooded gentleman.”
“And now you think he’s royal? Related to Majel in some way, and that’s how she’s kept tabs on him all this time?”
“No,” she said slowly, running the Krowe family tree through her mind. “He can’t be a Krowe, although that would certainly explain his reluctance to ever even hint at his House. He’d be afraid I would suspect betrayal from him all the quicker.”
“What are the other royal Houses?”
She began ticking off the line of succession one by one. “Majel and her heirs from House Krowe. Followed by her cousin, the Royal Duchess of Lizbonne. She has one daughter who’s in her early twenties, but no sons. The Duchess of Kent is next, Majel’s aunt on her father’s side, but she’s older than the original dome over Londonium. She had three daughters, all considerably older than I. The eldest had a son who died in the Hundred Year War, but no other males were born to that House to my knowledge. Those are the only heirs in line for the throne.”
“Could he be illegitimate?”
“Doubtful. He’s too well-bred to have been raised in shame or pawned off on some other House as an unwanted brat.” She pushed to her feet so she could pace. Physical activity sometimes helped jar the facts together into a different order that revealed the truth. “Krowe has ruled Britannia for over three hundred years.”
“Who ruled before the Krowes?”
She jerked to a halt, her ears ringing as if he’d fired his ancient pistol beside her head. She couldn’t think for a moment. Her brain felt frozen, swollen and tight in her scalp.
“Charlotte?”
She shook her head, trying to jolt her brain into action. The ill-fated House damned and cursed by Henry VIII, although his daughter Elizabeth was one of the most famous Queens of all time. Finally, she forced the word out. “Tudor.”
Gil whistled a few stanzas of a comical song written about the fat king and his poor wives he beheaded one after another.
“Yes, that Tudor.” She held her hands up and they were shaking worse than ever. Chilled, she wrapped her arms about herself, staring at Gil numbly. “That means he’s the Queen’s Scorpion. Now it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?” Gil draped her wrap around her shoulders and tugged on
her hand toward the bed, but she shook her head.
“I have too much to do to sleep, even for an hour.”
“Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s Queen’s Scorpion? I’ve never heard of it before.”
“I always wondered why House Tudor wasn’t wiped from the rolls when Queen Elizabeth changed the laws of succession. The first Krowe had to pass a law to keep the House alive by allowing their sons to inherit, even after all the horrible things Henry had done. Why let possible traitors continue to be counted in the great Families of Britannia?” Frowning, Gil rubbed her arms, trying to warm her. But this chill came from her bones and her heart. “Over the decades, people began to say that Tudors were cursed. Many of them went mad or died in horrible ways. They were shunned and reviled, but they were too blooded to simply shift their emphasis to trade. They were trapped by their royal blood but completely incapable of taking the throne or any title or position in Society.”
“Except Scorpion,” Gil said.
She nodded. “It isn’t a formal title. In fact, most Britannians probably think it’s just a fable. I saw the reference once, though, in Majel’s mother’s personal archives. Just a note that the Queen’s Scorpion had passed to the next generation. My damnable curiosity piqued, I double-checked the date to all House births. The only child born to one of the Great Houses on that day was Elizabeth Tudor, likely Sig’s mother.”
Charlotte laid her head against Gil’s chest and closed her eyes. For a moment, she simply let herself enjoy the heat of his bare chest, the steady, unfailing beat of his heart, the strength of his arms around her. “No one ever called Elizabeth Tudor Scorpion to her face, but there were whispers of the horrible things she did for Majel. People feared—and hated her. There were always terrible rumors about what went on behind closed doors, and I don’t even need to look in the news to remember that both she and her husband did, indeed, die under suspicious circumstances.”
Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 Page 19
