“Don’t you wish to be of service to Her Majesty?”
Lillian closed her mouth, scowling. He obviously had no idea what he was dragging her into. And he was trying to manipulate her at that. She bit her lip, realizing that he had played her well. It was a chance in a lifetime to help the queen. Her Majesty had been a beloved friend to her grandfather, and she was Lillian’s favorite member of the royal family. Although Lillian would not proclaim it too loudly where the Prince Regent could hear.
But Lillian was no longer just Lord Janus’s granddaughter; she was the Marquis of Beaumont’s paramour. She licked her lips. “My very presence might get you sacked, Nick. Please let me off and take my carriage. Gillman can escort me home.”
He crossed his arms. “I am not going haring off to Windsor and leaving you behind to fall victim to Kane’s clutches.”
“I’m not that helpless, Nick. I can take precautions—”
He swung sideways, facing the window. “No.”
Having a champion was nice, but having a dictator was unacceptable. “I have done just fine the last two years—”
“Like you did last night?”
She stiffened. “That is not a mistake I will make twice.”
“Neither will Kane or whomever he is working with. They have less than two weeks to see Beaumont hang, Lillian. They are growing desperate.”
“They’re not the only ones,” she muttered.
“Do you or do you not want my help?” His cocoa brown eyes had taken on a dangerous glint.
“Well, of course, but—”
“Then you have to abide by my decisions.” It was like a door slamming in her face.
She felt herself bristle like a cat who has seen a foe. She crossed her arms. “You do not have leave to order me about, Nicholas Redford.” She rapped her parasol on the ceiling. “Stop the coach!”
The horses whinnied and the wheels slowed.
Nick swung his head out the window, shouting, “Don’t you lose that royal servant, Jon! Get moving!”
“Heyah!” Jon Driver called to the horses.
The carriage lurched forward, throwing Lillian back into the seat.
“You cannot order my servants about!” she cried.
“You told them to accept my commands. When you were of a more rational mind, that is. Now, at least, you will be safe. If Windsor isn’t secure, then I don’t know where is. And I cannot do my job there while worrying about you haring off straight into danger.”
The nerve! Her anger rose like a righteous inferno. “Who the blazes do you think you are?”
“I’m the man in charge of ensuring your safety.”
“If I wanted a bodyguard I would have hired one!”
“You got a double service for one price. I save your beloved Beaumont and watch your back. I’d say you made off pretty well in the deal and should be happy for the service.”
“Don’t tell me what I should be feeling! You have no idea what I want, what I need—”
“Oh, I have an idea.” His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her across the small space and into his lap. Firm lips pressed against hers, silencing her cries.
She tried to struggle but knew that it was simply for show. She wanted his lips, his taste, the feel of him pressing against her. Being around him all morning was like being surrounded by the aroma of melted chocolate but not being able to taste the candy.
His tongue conquered her mouth, sweeping across her teeth in broad, demanding strokes. She shivered, never having experienced anything like it. His tongue met hers, sending thrills rocketing to her toes. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he kneaded her bottom as if he had been dying to do it all day. He groaned inside her mouth. She could not catch her breath from the intoxicating assault on her senses.
In his kisses, he demanded her obedience, and she rose to fight him. Defiantly, she kissed him back. Boldly she lathed his mouth, tasting a hint of eggs and bacon. Taking his quick lesson and turning it against him, she pressed her hips into his manhood, feeling her effect on him, how much he wanted her. Passion was both their weapons, sweeping over her with a force that left her winded.
Nick pulled away, his breath coming in pants, his heart pounding so hard that it drummed in his ears. Carefully, he set Lillian down on the seat beside him and then shifted across to the opposite cushion. He would have gone to sit up top if it wouldn’t have forced them to stop the coach.
Moreover, it would have shown his weakness, and he was never one to admit an Achilles’ heel for a woman.
She watched him with satisfaction glinting in her azure eyes. Her lips were red and swollen, and her breast rose and fell with each shallow breath. Her peaches-and-cream cheeks had two high spots of color, and she looked so delectable that he wanted to yank her back onto his lap and finish the job he’d started. But he had made a promise to himself, one he was going to try to keep despite this slip.
They rode along, the silence only broken by the jangle of the wheels and the clatter of horse hooves.
“Not a way to win an argument,” she finally remarked, wiping a gloved finger across the corner of her lip.
“I wasn’t trying to win. I just wanted…” What the hell had he wanted except to be inside of her? To taste her, hold her…But she was an innocent. He would be a selfish bastard to take advantage of her. And she would hate him for it, in the end. Her words haunted him, “Fanny’s idea, my execution.” Looking back, she viewed their first coupling as a death sentence. In a way it was, for she was ruined. And he was the one who had stolen her innocence. He was not about to do her another injustice simply to feed his lust.
“We need to call a truce,” he finally declared.
“I didn’t know we were at war.” She stuck her bottom lip out, reminding him of a lush cherry.
“Look, Lillian, we’re about to arrive at Windsor, and I can’t have you distracting me.” As if she could help it.
“I’m not the one who started”—she licked her lips—“that.”
“I know.” Removing his hat, he ran his hand through his hair. “It was a mistake. My mistake. And I will not repeat it again.”
“Kissing me was not your mistake, trying to control me was. I am not yours to be ordered about.”
“No.” He let out a long breath. “You are not. But I do need your help.”
She crossed her arms, looking out the window. “I will not be manipulated into doing your bidding.”
“You’re right. I suppose I was tense about the summons. I had not expected it. And certainly not now when I need to be working on Beaumont’s defense.” He worried the rim of his hat with his fingers.
She sat up, alarmed. “What do you expect will happen?”
“I cannot ignore the summons.”
“Of course not.”
“So I can only hope to resolve whatever the matter is at Windsor as quickly as possible, then return to London and finish the job for you.”
Anxiety furrowed her brow.
“Don’t worry, Lillian, I will not desert Beaumont.”
“But what if you have no choice?” Her voice had risen.
“I won’t let that happen. If things turn south, then I can always try to get a postponement of the trial.”
“Dagwood won’t give it.”
“He might, if the circumstances were compelling. We just have to wait and see what’s to greet us at Windsor. Then try to deal with it as expeditiously as possible.”
She swallowed. “What can I do to help?”
That she was able to see past her anger so quickly and focus on what needed to be done amazed him. Lillian was a remarkably intuitive lady, and her practicality would have impressed even Dunn.
“You can help me traverse the political waters of Windsor more quickly…,” he offered.
“You are assuming that I won’t be tossed out on my cheeky bottom.”
“If there is a true emergency, then that’s unlikely to happen.”
“You don’t know royalty.”
“Exactly. Which is why I could really use your help.”
“I don’t think that I’m going to do you one bit of good.”
“But you will accompany me?”
“I don’t see that we have an alternative. Dillon is counting on us.”
He thanked his lucky stars that she was so pragmatic.
They rode along in silence, the sway of the carriage bringing Nick a sense of calm he would never have dreamed of when going to Windsor on a job. Perhaps it was having Lillian along with him. He might be headed into trouble, but he had a capable ally on his side. Now if he could only keep his hands off her. She could not help how she looked, how she moved, how she drew him like a bear to sweet berries. But he refused to be tempted. A promise made was a promise kept.
“I have always wanted to see Windsor,” she commented, staring out the window at the countryside flashing by. “I have only seen renderings.”
Leave it to Lillian to try to put a sunny face on a tense situation.
“Perhaps you will meet Queen Charlotte,” he offered.
“Heaven forbid! I am not dressed for court. This is hardly acceptable attire—”
“Don’t worry, Lillian. All will be well. I promise.”
Her eyes flashed, and she settled back in the seat. “Don’t make promises you cannot keep, Nick.”
He swallowed.
They rode the rest of the way in silence, and from opposite sides of the coach.
Lillian could not help herself; as the carriage rolled down the long drive, she almost hung out the window for a better view of the magnificent gray stone castle. With its formidable walls sitting up high on a hill above the Thames, it rightly took her breath away. It was an imposing patchwork of both rounded and square towers, narrow windows and tall walls. But the forbidding quality of the buildings was softened by the green lawns rolling alongside the carriage, the thick emerald forests flashing by and the hundreds of flowers in all shades of red, orange, gold and purple spattered on the grounds. Despite the nervous butterflies swarming in her middle, she could not help but appreciate the amazing mixture of man’s progress amid nature’s plenty.
Spotting the King’s colors flying in the cloudless sky, Lillian felt a rush of pride for her homeland. In the opposite seat, Nick seemed confident but preoccupied, obviously realizing the enormity of his task. Lillian had had no idea that he was on retainer to the queen. The prospect was daunting and filled with enormous opportunity. If Nick was successful, his enquiry agency would receive a great sponsor. But if he failed…well, she did not wish to consider the consequences. Whatever the outcome, it had to come quickly, for Dillon’s sake.
The carriage lurched to a halt, the door swung open and a stool was set.
Nick jumped out and offered his hand.
Stepping out, she gripped it tightly, anxiety making her mouth dry as dust.
A servant of middle years with wispy gray hair and a lanky frame rushed forward to greet them. “Thank the heavens you’re finally here! But who is this?”
“Lady Janus will be assisting me,” Nick replied, trying to instill some steel into his voice. For all of his seeming confidence in the carriage, he was nervous as hell for dragging her along with him. But he was not about to abandon his obligations, even for the queen of England.
“Well, this way, this way.” The servant rushed agitatedly before them, twittering like a nervous bird might. “Come, come.”
They followed the man at a brisk pace, and Nick was glad for the opportunity to loosen his legs from the long ride. He felt as if every muscle was stretched taut. Lillian looked up at him and smiled, but it was a tight, tense motion. A small crease marred her lovely brow, and her lush lips were pinched. He knew that she was apprehensive about their reception, and so was he.
They were led down a long hallway capped by high, ornately carved ceilings. The hall smelled of wax and wool, and slightly fresh, as if recently aired. Ornate gilded frames held portraits of elaborately attired men in battles, hunting on horseback and formal portraits. Nick did not dare dawdle, as the servant was charging down the hall at a breakneck pace, though he didn’t walk too briskly either, fearing he’d trip on the thick, red-and-gold tasseled carpets and fall flat on his arse.
The servant opened a door and ushered them into a dark, wood-paneled study. In the center of the room was a large brown desk, surrounded by round-backed walnut chairs. The odor of wax, ink and parchment permeated the room. It seemed both a work chamber and meeting space.
“Mr. Redford. Lady Janus,” the servant called, then after one last twitter, spun on his heel and left the room.
Lillian looked at Nick, her brow raised in question. The room was empty. Then a paneled door opened, and a stout, gray-haired man in a fine purple woolen coat with ivory ruffles jutting out of the sleeves stepped into the chamber. “Redford!” he bellowed.
Nick stepped forward, nodding. “At your service, sir.”
“It’s about time.” He had wide eyes, a flat nose and loose jowls, reminding Lillian of a bulldog. Raising his hand to his nose, the man sniffed a pinch of snuff. Whipping a large square white cloth from his pocket, he blew a ferocious sneeze into the bandanna. Sniffling, he asked, “And who is this lovely lady?”
Lillian curtseyed.
“May I introduce Baroness Janus,” Nick announced.
He bowed stiffly. “Daniel Hogan, Secretary and Comptroller, my lady.”
“Your messenger indicated a great emergency, sir. How can I be of service?”
The man sighed. “Dreadful business. Dreadful business indeed.” He sniffed. “Lancelot’s gone missing.”
“Lancelot?”
“The queen’s favorite.”
“The queen’s favorite what?”
“Pug.”
Nick felt his brows rise to his hairline. “You call a missing dog an emergency?”
“How terrible,” Lillian interjected, shooting him a scolding glance. “Her Majesty treasures her pug dogs as if they were her own family.”
Hogan scowled. “She is beside herself with worry.”
Nick wanted to shout at the absurdity of being dragged away from a murder investigation for a runaway dog, but instead he bit out, “How long has he been missing?”
“Just over five hours.”
“I assume a search is underway.”
“All of the footmen and grooms have already begun looking for him.”
“Where was the…Lancelot last seen?”
“Near the path in the garden, by the river.”
Nick suddenly realized that this could truly be an urgent situation. “And that path leads to where?”
“The village.”
“Which has been searched.”
“Yes.”
“Is there any chance that the dog was stolen?”
“Kidnapped, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“That is my fear. Which is why I sent for you.”
“The queen—”
“—agreed that it was the best course. Anything to find Lancelot, you see—”
“Mr. Hogan!” a steely voice shrieked from the hallway.
Hogan stiffened, and Lillian peeked up at Nick, trepidation in her blue gaze.
“Mr. Redford has arrived, ma’am!” Hogan bellowed, swiping a hand across his brow.
“Thank the heavens!”
Queen Charlotte of England glided into the room with a gaggle of servants on her trail.
Chapter 19
Queen Charlotte was just as Nick remembered: short, tea-skinned, with fine, brown hair heavily streaked with gray piled high on her head, and small, darkly piercing eyes. She carried herself with a refined, delicate air, belying a tenacious intensity.
Lillian dropped to the floor in a curtsey; her head bent low to the ground.
Nick bowed deeply.
“Mr. Redford,” the queen cried. “My darling Lancelot has gone missing!”
“I am at your service, Your Majesty.”
“Yo
u must find him.”
“I will find Lancelot.” He felt the pledge burn through him and realized that he meant every word.
“Excellent.” Spying Lillian, the queen’s beady eyes narrowed. “Who is this?”
Nick waved his hand, trying for courtliness. “May I present Baroness Janus. She heard the terrible news and hoped to assist in the search.”
The queen huffed.
Nick endeavored to explain, “Lady Janus and I were both visiting the Marquis of Beaumont at Newgate Prison when—”
“Why?” the queen interjected. “The man is a criminal.”
“No court has proven him so. He awaits trial.”
“Are you committed to Beaumont?” Her tone was harsh and her eyes shrewd. “I must know this instant.”
“The only thing that Mr. Redford is committed to,” Lillian answered from her position low on the floor, “is to finding your precious pug.”
The queen’s eyes were calculating. “What business is this of yours?”
“When your servant arrived with news of your situation,” Nick answered quickly, suppressing a slight flash of anger that the queen was targeting Lillian so, “I was without a means of transportation, ma’am. Lady Janus graciously offered her coach so that I might arrive here promptly. I am ready and eager to help.”
“You wish to help too, Lady Janus?” The queen’s tone carried a hint of challenge.
“As the rest of my family has always been, I am humbly at your service, ma’am,” Lillian stated. “It would be my privilege to assist in any way that I can during this terrible tragedy.”
The air fairly crackled with tension as the queen studied the top of Lillian’s head. Nick held his breath, and it felt like everyone in the room did as well.
Finally, Her Majesty stepped closer. “Aren’t you Baron Janus’s granddaughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She harrumphed again. “Sinclair was a good man.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And what makes you such an authority on this situation that you presume that you can be of assistance, Lady Janus?” Her Majesty intoned, scowling down at Lillian.
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