“You're not so terrible yourself, Isabella,” he echoed the sentiment with a chuckle.
“I didn't mean that in a bad way! I mean it as a compliment. Some people might be scared of you, but I don't think I could ever be scared of you again. Sometimes, I actually think you're rather... kind.” Isabella felt her cheeks warming, so she shoved a bite of food into her mouth, giving herself a moment to gather her wits. “A-Anyway... I care about you, and I wanted you to know that.”
“And I care about you too,” he echoed her again. “There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
Isabella's ears prickled at his words. It was more passion than she expected from him. The last time she expressed her fondness for him, he was completely cold. Isabella preferred the softer side of him, though he didn't show it often.
When the violins stopped, Isabella rose from her chair to restart the music. As she left the dining room, she grabbed Harriot's hand and tried to take him with her. “Come on,” she urged him. “Come with me.”
Thomas followed, though he did so with a grumble. “Why? Where are we going?”
Isabella went to the phonograph and started the music from the beginning. “I wanted to dance with you.”
“Dance?” Harriot scoffed at the thought. “Surely you jest?”
“Oh no! I'm quite serious!” Isabella moved closer to him, testing her limits. She half-expected him to turn his back to her, but he didn't, nor did he protest when she slid her arms around him. “See?” She tried to rock him back and forth, but it took a bit of coaxing to get him to move. “Isn't this nice?”
“I suppose it isn't awful.” Harriot cautiously wrapped an arm around Isabella's shoulder—one arm only. She would have preferred both of his arms around her, but she didn't want to press her luck.
“You deserve better than Eversio, Tom,” Isabella whispered as she laid her cheek against his chest. “You're a good man. They don't deserve you.”
“My father is Eversio, you know. He rebuilt the group from nothing. Without him, they would be nothing.”
“Sometimes I wonder what I'd be without you. Dead, probably.” Isabella expelled a heavy breath. “Without you, I wouldn't have survived this long, and if I was on my own, I know I'd struggle. Nevertheless... I have to try.”
Now that Tom was close to her, cradling her, Isabella could easily grab his gun. Before he could react to her words, she ripped his revolver from its holster, raised it, and took a few steps backward. When he saw her pointing the gun at him, he slowly raised his arms. With his face exposed and his hands in the air, Thomas Harriot never looked more vulnerable.
“Isabella...” His voice was cold, but still calm. “Isabella, what are you doing?”
“I need to find my brother, Tom. I have to.” Isabella's hand trembled as she held the gun. It was much heavier than she expected.
“I told you I'd try to find him. You don't believe me?”
“I want to trust you... and I do like you... but a part of me will always see you as the man who ruined my life. Nico was displaced because of you, and my father is dead because of your plans.” For the first time, Isabella could have taken revenge for her family, but there was no way she could hurt him. Fortunately, Tom had no idea what she would and wouldn't do. “That isn't something I can easily forgive.”
“I understand. And you have every right to hate me.” When he caught her eying the tangle of scars on his face, Tom was overwhelmed with disgust for himself. For a moment, he actually believed she wanted to be close to him. How much of a fool was he? Never again, Tom promised himself. She got him to let down his guard, but it would never happen again. “But you have to believe me, Isabella, I only want what's best for you. Out there... it's too dangerous for you. I beg you not to go.”
“I've already given this a lot of thought,” she told him. “I need my brother, and he needs me. I can't just sit around waiting all day. I have to do something!”
“Understand something, then,” Tom's voice lost its inflection. He was completely monotone. “If you walk out that door, you lose my protection. I won't help you again, and if we meet again, there's a good chance we won't be meeting as friends. Can you live with that?”
“I don't have a choice, Tom.” Isabella's palms were slick with sweat as she clutched the gun. “I have to do this. For Nico.” She took a few steps in the direction of the door. “I'm sorry.”
“Wait!” As she reached for the doorknob, his voice halted her. “Hold on a moment. I can't let you leave with nothing.”
Isabella's eyes narrowed mistrustfully. “What do you mean?”
“Those drawers over there... go to them.” Harriot bowed his head in the direction she needed. Though she approached the drawers, Isabella looked suspicious.
“You aren't going to try to attack me, are you?” she asked.
“No. Of course not.” To prove he wasn't lying, he took a few steps away from her, crushing himself against the wall. “I'm all the way over here, Isabella. I can't hurt you. Now... open the second drawer from the top.”
“This one?” When she pointed at the drawer, Tom nodded.
“There's a small bag inside,” he said. “There's money in it. I want you to take it.”
As she lifted the bag from the drawer, tears rushed into Isabella's eyes. For the first time that night, she felt truly awful. “You want to give me money... even though I'm pointing a gun at you?”
“I can't let you leave with nothing. If you're going to survive without me, you'll need a proper chance. Now... open the bottom drawer.” When it was open, he explained, “Take one of the boxes. There are bullets inside, ammunition for that gun. Keep it with you at all times, alright? The gun, not the ammo. There's also a knife in that particular drawer. If you'd like, you can have that too.”
Isabella was blinking back tears as she pocketed the items. In a whisper, she asked, “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I care for you. Now... is there anything else you need? Food? Clothing? If there's anything else you'd like to pack, anything at all, take it now. I swear on my life, I won't move from this wall.”
“Tom...” Isabella sighed his name. He was being too kind to her. “I think I... I think I'll just go now.”
“Then I wish you well,” Harriot said, bowing slightly. “Good luck on your search, Your Highness. I hope you find your brother.”
Isabella dashed from the cottage before she changed her mind. As she made her way to the lake, her heart was aching—but she didn't cry until she reached the boat. Tears flowed down her cheeks when she climbed inside and grabbed the oars.
She wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. Isabella's heart refused to let her hate him.
In truth, she would miss him greatly.
Twenty Six
When Nico slipped out of the inn again, he returned to Murphy's and sat at a table in the back of the pub. It was dark, so he assumed it would be easy to hide. More than anything, he needed to hide from Mae, who would surely kick him out if she saw him there. According to Mae, it wasn't safe to leave the inn, and while Nico agreed, he couldn't stand to be cooped up all day. Besides, he missed her. As long as she was nearby, his heart ached less.
That was usually how he felt—until he saw her flirting with one of her customers. A man with a graying beard wrapped an arm around Mae's hips and pulled her close. Nico expected her to recoil from his touch, but she did the opposite. She leaned in closer and flirtatiously stroked the older man's arm.
I'm not jealous, Nico tried to convince himself, despite his clenching fists and twitching jaw. I'm not jealous in the slightest. When he saw the man staring down her cleavage, he had to fight the urge to slam a fist against the table.
Nico must have been staring too intently, because Mae suddenly caught his gaze. As soon as she saw him, she abandoned the randy old gentleman and approached Nico's table with a snort.
“What are you doing here again?” Her eyes were fiery and wide.
“I don't know.” Nico shrugged, feig
ning innocence. “I guess I wanted another slice of pie.”
“Well, I hope this pie is more important than your life!” Mae exclaimed. “You know it's dangerous for you to be wandering around, right? I've already heard rumors.”
Nico's thick eyebrows jumped to his forehead. “What kind of rumors?”
“Rumors that the prince and princess are still alive,” Mae whispered. “If I was you, I wouldn't get my hopes up about Isabella... but we obviously know you're alive. If people are looking for you, how do you know you won't be spotted?”
“I need to go somewhere safer.” Nico tried to pull her into the chair beside him, but Mae stayed on her feet. “What if I went to Baltmoor? Lettie's not back yet. What if she didn't make it?”
“I don't want to even think about that.”
“But she was supposed to be back in a couple of days. It's been more than a couple of days!” Nico was momentarily distracted by a barmaid carrying an enormous piece of blueberry pie topped by a mountain of whipped cream. He almost asked for a piece, but Mae's patience was already wearing thin, so he kept the thought to himself. “Maybe I should have gone with Lettie in the first place.”
“We can talk about this later... at the inn,” Mae insisted. “You need to go now, Nico. I'm serious.”
When she started to walk away, Nico grabbed her arm. “Wait! Why were you flirting with that man over there?” He hoped he didn't sound too much like a jealous, lovesick fool.
“Because that's Baron von Mergentheim, and he coughs up a better tip if I flirt with him a little bit.” Mae tilted her head and grinned. “Why? Were you jealous, Nico?”
“No! I was afraid you'd think that!” Nico crossed his arms. “I just don't like to see you inappropriately groped by anyone. That's all.”
“Uh huh.” As she turned away, Mae was rolling her eyes. “Go home, okay? We can talk about Baltmoor when I get back.”
Mae's reaction was precisely what he expected, and because he didn't care to linger where he wasn't wanted, he left the pub with a sigh. “She's so overprotective...” Nico grumbled to himself as he stormed away from Murphy's.
Unfortunately, he didn't get far. Less than a block away from Mae's workplace, an enormous tan hand seized the collar of Nico's shirt and dragged him into a narrow alleyway. Someone slammed him against the wall so hard, the air was ripped from his lungs.
“I know who you are.” Cheese-like breath swirled from the man's lips into Nico's face. “Yer the prince, ain't ya?”
Nico tried to struggle, but the man who held him was huge. He was a foot taller than Nico, with the shoulders of a lumberjack. He smelled vaguely of onions, and his forearms were so woolly, the hair on them was curling.
“I don't know who you think I am, but you're mistaken.”
The man pulled on Nico's shirt and slammed him against the wall a second time. “Don't lie to ole Shelby. I remember your face, and I heard that girl call you by name. Nico.” The man's tongue slid out to lick his filthy, cracked lips. “Eversio's gonna be real happy when they find out I found you. You reckon they'll give me a reward?”
With both hands and all the strength he could muster, Nico shoved his attacker. Even then, Shelby barely budged. He buried a knee in Nico's gut and punched him on the nose. Nico could feel the soft cartilage shattering under the force of Shelby's fist.
“I'm taking you to the palace, boy,” the man said as he easily hoisted the panicked prince off his feet. “I'm gonna be a hero, I am! The president's gonna give me a nice, fat--”
The sound of a gun's clicking hammer made Shelby go silent. A few seconds later, a female voice demanded, “Put him down.”
“But I ain't--”
“Put him down!” the woman icily repeated, putting an end to Shelby's protest. “Nice and slow, okay? Don't drop him, or I'll shoot your damn foot off!”
As soon as Nico was back on his feet, he saw Mae standing next to him with a gun in her hand.
“I had a feeling something bad would happen, Nico... so I followed you. And I'm glad I did.” She wagged her weapon at Shelby's head. “What do you think I should do with this guy? Kill him?”
“I... don't know...” Nico clenched his teeth. He couldn't believe how easily she talked about executing people.
“I say we kill him,” she casually suggested. “He's seen you, talked to you. We don't want him squealing about this to anyone else.”
Shelby turned his head and spat on Mae's feet. “Listen, bitch, I didn't--”
Once again, Mae didn't wait for him to finish. As soon as the gob of saliva landed on her slipper, she pressed the trigger.
“Mae!” Nico gasped her name as Shelby's body crumbled to the ground. “Why'd you do that?”
“He shouldn't have spit on me and called me a bitch! Besides, like I said, he knows you're alive. A person like that is dangerous.” Mae grabbed Nico's sleeve and pulled him out of the alley before anyone could investigate the gunshot. “I'm just trying to protect you, Nico. Don't look at me like that!”
“How am I looking at you?” He tried to smooth the wrinkle between his eyes.
“I dunno! Like you're disappointed in me or something.” Mae spoke over her shoulder as she escorted him back to the inn. “Look, I know scum when I see it, and that man was scum. The world's better off with one less oversized thug on the streets. That's how I see it.”
As soon as they reached the inn, Nico said, “I've got to get out of the capital. It's too dangerous here. I'm tired of running, hiding, waiting to be found. I have to do something!”
“Like go to Baltmoor?” Mae asked as they climbed the stairs to their room. When they reached the top step, they passed an elderly man, who looked a bit alarmed by the revolver in Mae's hand.
“Exactly. If I can get Admiral Jordan on my side, that would give me some relief. At least I'd have someone on my side, not just...”
When Nico didn't finish his sentence, Mae finished for him. “Me. You want someone better than me on your side.”
“No... I didn't mean it like that. You're invaluable to me, Mae. I only meant that I need the force of an army, not just one person.”
“Well...” With a sigh, Mae opened the bedroom door. “I might be useless, but I'm still going with you. I can't let you go to Baltmoor by yourself.”
“What about your job?”
Mae chuckled and shook her head. “Nico... I just shot a man on the street. There's no way I'm going back to Murphy's tomorrow. I shouldn't linger around the capital any more than you should.” She gave him a tense smile. “Besides... we're a team, remember? I'm going with you, and that's that.”
“In that case, I'm glad you're coming.”
“I know you are,” Mae said with a wink. Humming to herself, she skipped to the bed, sat down, and casually reloaded her weapon. Mae wasn't happy unless the chamber was brimming with bullets.
As he watched Mae tinker with her gun, Nico was shaking his head.
He was glad she was on his side.
Twenty Seven
“Tobias!” Kitt shrieked as her arms flew around her friend. “You have no idea how good it is to see you! I heard the news! I thought you were going to be executed!”
“And you have no idea how good it is to have my head still on my neck!” Because Lyneah was standing right behind him, Tobias hugged Kitt lightly. He didn't know how his fiance would feel about him embracing a woman who looked exactly like her, but he assumed it had to be strange. “Actually, I came pretty close to losing my head before Kieran saved the day.”
“Kieran! I met him once, didn't I? Isn't he that broad, dark-haired, bearded man?”
Tobias gave a nod. “That sounds like him.”
“Well then... I'll have to thank him later, because I can't imagine how awful it would be to lose my best friend! I can't believe I ran into you in the middle of nowhere, Tobias. Here, of all places!” When their embrace finally ended, Kitt sent a weak smile in Lyneah's direction. Though they looked like identical twins, the fact of the matter was
, they barely knew each other. Kitt still felt a bit awkward in her company, not only because of their disturbing similarities. Kitt spent several weeks pretending to be her, and she always wondered how Lyneah truly felt about that. It wasn't as if she meant to steal her life. “So... I trust that everything is good between you and Lyneah?”
“Better than good,” Tobias corrected her with a grin. “I'm going to be a father.”
“Oh my... seriously?” Kitt shrilled. “You? A father? I can't even imagine it!”
“I think he'll be a wonderful father,” Lyneah gently gave her opinion. “There's no one sweeter in all the world.”
“True. And that's amazing!” Kitt sounded awed. “Your son or daughter will be a prince or a princess?”
“Indeed. And we've already been discussing names,” Lyneah jumped in. “If our baby's a girl, Tobias wants to name her after you.”
“Aww!” Kitt cooed. “That would be wonderful!”
Lyneah continued, “And if he's a boy, we've been thinking about calling him Kieran... but now that Doon's been kind enough to take us to Bordeaux, maybe we should name him Francis?”
“Doon's kindness was the result of a lot of coaxing from me,” Kitt confessed. “I hate to say it, but he didn't want to take you.”
And it was true. After Carol finished repairs on both the airship and the motocarriage, it was Kitt's idea to drop them at their destination. What would be an hour's ride on the airship would be an entire day on the motocarriage. Kitt thought it would be kind to save them some time, but she really had to twist Doon's arm to get him to stop in Bordeaux.
“How is Doon?” Tobias asked.
“Doon is... Doon,” Kitt answered with a sigh. “You know how he is. He's distant, frustrating, maddening... but sometimes unexpectedly charming. It's taken some time, but I've learned how to deal with him.”
He must have been determined to prove her wrong, because at that very moment, a plethora of curses erupted from Captain Doon's lips. Kieran was attempting to drive the motocarriage onto the airship, but it wasn't going well. “Bloody hell, McCray, drive more slowly!” Doon hissed at him. “You're scuffing my deck!”
Prisoner Princess (Belles & Bullets Book 5) Page 17
