“Yes. He would.”
“And my brother.” Grey gripped the ring in his now sweating palm. “The rings are only similar in the number of stones. Yet still, I can’t help but think there’s more to the similarity.”
“I gave your brother his ring on his twentieth birthday. Much too young really. But we had a dire need.”
“Look inside the band,” His Majesty commanded.
Grey brought the ring up close and squinted to make out the engraving. “Loyalty. To who? You?”
“To me and to each other. Do you see the way the ‘y’ loops around to touch the ‘l’ then back to meet the end of the ‘y’? The word was engraved to form a perfect circle that symbolizes the unending trusts between me and my spies. Each ring has a different word engraved in it. Can’t have anyone linking the rings together. Your father’s ring says trust. But the words are also looped to form a connection.”
“Spies?” Grey clamped his mouth shut the second he realized it was hanging open.
“Of course. How do you think we stay so powerful? Kings must make luck, Grey, and always be six steps ahead of everyone else. My spies are my luck―each a step that keeps me on the throne. One of them has been killed. And now I need another.”
Astonishment was too weak a word for what Grey was feeling. “And you are asking me?”
“Were your father and brother wrong about you? You seem surprised.”
By God he was surprised. His father must feel something akin to warmness for him to recommend him to the king. Shame swept through him like a raging fever. He clenched his teeth together on the need to confess the ass he had been for the last fifteen years. A thirty-year-old self-indulgent bastard didn’t deserve to be a spy for the king. But, by damned, he wanted this. He would become a spy. Hell, he would devote his entire life to being a spy. And then maybe he would earn his father’s love and respect. He paused. It had been years since he’d admitted to himself he wanted those things.
The king smiled at him. “Your eyes give me your answer. Put on the ring and say the vow.”
He quickly did as he was told, and once the words of loyalty were spoken, and he was dismissed to spend this one day as he wished, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to find Madelaine and make a fresh start. Maybe they could take a stroll or a ride through the park.
He wanted to get to know her not as the man he had been, but as the man he wanted to be―no longer an unrepentant rake but a man of honor like his brother and father.
IT TOOK HIM A GOOD hour to find Lady Madelaine, but it was worth the effort and the coin he had to part with to get her lady’s maid to reveal that Lady Madelaine had slipped out of the castle to collect some flowers as a surprise for the queen. Grey snorted at the thought. There weren’t any flowers in bloom this time of year, and the maid had said Lady Madelaine was carrying something wrapped in a cape.
He suspected she’d slipped away to get in some target practice with her bow and arrow, and when he spotted her close to the woods and hidden by several tall trees from the view of anyone who chanced to look out the castle window his suspicion was confirmed. He started to make his way toward her, but stopped as she drew up her bow and arrow and aimed at a distant tree she’d placed a circular target on.
He didn’t want to startle her or throw off her aim with his approach. By the look of concentration on her face, and from what he’d already seen of her archery skill, she took her practice seriously. He leaned against a tree to watch her. She pulled her bow taut, moved her face into and away from the wind, and shifted her stance.
Desire made him shift his own position. She fascinated him. He’d never seen a look of such determination on a woman’s face unless she was determined to trap a man into marriage. Lady Madelaine wanted marriage, an admission by her own lips. He should be avoiding her at all cost yet he was here. What would marriage to her be like? He’d never considered marring anyone. A lady to tumble for pleasure and to annoy his father with scandal was the closest he’d ever linked himself with any woman.
He knelt down by the tree no longer wanting to approach her. What better way to learn the real her than to watch her. Her guard would be down. Every time she smiled, he smiled. Her exclaims of frustration made him laugh. But the way she threw her arms over her head in triumph when she made a good shot was the best part of watching her. She was beautiful, and his lust was stirred. Yet something else was awakened.
He’d been stirred to lust many times in his life. It was her uniqueness that he found compelling. She cared for things women were not supposed to. She loved these things so much she’d chanced sneaking away and incurring the queen’s ire or worse. Lady Madelaine was going to have a deuced hard time with the marriage she was seeking if her future husband minded a wife who wasn’t the typical female most men seemed to want.
Most men, except him. He smiled and frowned in turn, but a stick breaking beside him interrupted his musings. He reached for his dagger and glanced up at the shadowy figure above him.
As he shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare, Gravenhurst dropped to his haunches. “Spying?” he said, looking between Madelaine and Grey.
“Something like that.” Grey shifted uncomfortably at being caught, Gravenhurst’s knowing smirk, and his friend’s choice of words. Gravenhurst had been the one person Grey had ever confided anything in, and it seemed strange not to be able to tell his friend about becoming a spy for the king.
“Are you working out a plan of attack?” Gravenhurst asked.
“Not exactly.” Grey watched Madelaine draw another arrow. He quickly told Gravenhurst of his encounter with Lady Madelaine and Thorton, and their enlightening conversation afterward.
Gravenhurst chuckled. “I’d say that’s the worst misjudging of a lady you’ve ever done.”
“I’ve never misjudged what a lady wants, until now.”
“And misjudging her makes you smile?”
Did it? Grey quickly wiped the smile from his face once he realized Gravenhurst was correct.
“Who do you think she’s imagining she’s shooting?” Gravenhurst sat on the ground and crossed his legs out in front of him.
Grey ran a hand over the stubble on his face. “Could be me or Thorton. It’s hard to say.”
“Take heart, Grey. Your character may be tarnished in her mind, but I doubt she thinks you a bloody bastard, which is undoubtedly how she thinks of Thorton.”
“You’re helpful as always,” Grey said, irritated his time alone to study her was being interrupted. “Why are you here anyway? Bored?”
“I came to find you.”
“And you have. Spit it out and be gone.”
“I’m under the king’s orders.” Gravenhurst swatted at a bee buzzing around his face. The sun glinted off his ring. Grey frowned, followed the path of his friend’s hand and hissed low as he counted the six stones he’d never paid heed to before. He stared at the man he’d considered like another brother for as long as he could remember. He thought he knew Gravenhurst as well as he knew himself, but doubt now bombarded him. What did he really know of anyone?
What was certain and what was fabrication? Gravenhurst’s parents had died when he was very young, and he’d been raised by an uncaring, distant relative who’d let Gravenhurst come and go as he pleased. His friend had spent more time at Grey’s house than his own, and Grey had not even minded when Gravenhurst and Edward had become good friends as well. Grey had been glad that Gravenhurst had someone else who cared about his welfare. These were facts.
Gravenhurst was gone a good many months out of the year. Another fact. He claimed he loved to travel and he would rather do it when he was young, in good health, and unencumbered by a wife who wouldn’t be able to endure the adventures he went on. This was likely fabrication. Gravenhurst had never once asked Grey to go on one of his trips with him, and now that Grey cast his mind back, he was certain his friend had been gone many of the same times Edward or Father were gone. He swallowed a knot of astonishment. “You wo
rk for the king.”
Gravenhurst slapped Grey on the shoulder. “That I do, my friend. And not, mind you, as an equerry.”
“You bloody bastard. Why didn’t you tell me?” His words came out on an exhalation.
“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t able to. Just as you will never be able to talk of what you do with anyone but the king or one of the other five spies who are part of our circle. I took a vow to keep the secret, just as you have. You cannot be angry with me for that.”
“I’m not angry, just shocked at the discovery. How long have you worked for the king?”
“Since I was twenty-one.”
Grey whistled. “Eleven years. They recruited you young.”
“Come on. We’ll talk as we walk.”
“Walk?”
Gravenhurst nodded toward Lady Madelaine. “Either we move or the lady catches us here.”
Grey scrambled to his feet and followed Gravenhurst back toward the castle. “There’s much to accomplish in the next couple of weeks,” Gravenhurst said. “The king wants me to prepare you to track down Sutton’s killer with me.”
“Sutton was a spy, and he was killed?”
“Yes. He was captured while on a mission in France with Stratmore several months ago. And our contact in France confirms Sutton was killed by De La Touche.”
“Stratmore is a spy? Lady Madelaine’s father?”
“Try to keep up, Grey.”
“I’m keeping up, damn it. That doesn’t mean I’m not surprised. Who is De La Touche?”
“Napoleon’s most favored spy. And his deadliest one. Mostly we spies have a code. We lie, we cheat, we steal, but normally we don’t kill, unless absolutely necessary.”
Grey nodded, but his mind reeled. Stratmore a spy. Pearson a spy. And Grey’s father had killed men. His brother? How little he really knew about his own family. The shame of all the jealousy he had felt swept through him again. He’d assumed so much about his father, and it was all wrong. “I take it this man De La Touche does not abide by the spy code of conduct.”
“No. He doesn’t. In the last five years, he’s killed two of our spies. Sutton makes number three.”
Grey walked into the courtyard of the castle and stopped. He glanced back and waited until Lady Madelaine came into view. All this talk of killing made him want to ensure she got into the castle safely, though he knew she was safe here. She trudged toward the castle, her sluggish steps making it obvious she didn’t want to return to her mundane duties as a lady-in-waiting. A smile tugged at his lips. Poor dove. He understood her reluctance. He watched her for a moment, before refocusing on Gravenhurst. “How can you be certain Sutton is dead?”
“Our contact has never been wrong. Besides that, he identified Sutton’s body and retrieved his ring, which you are now wearing.”
Revulsion swept through Grey. He had to force himself not to yank off the dead man’s ring. It was only a ring. It wasn’t as if he’d killed the man for it. But damnation, he was bothered knowing his chance to be a spy had come from a man’s death.
Gravenhurst clasped Grey’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on it. I don’t dwell on the man I replaced. Sorry I had to lie. But I couldn’t very well tell you one of the king’s personal spies was killed and you had been tapped to replace the fallen man.”
“No, I don’t suppose you could. Why did my father recommend me now? After all these years? I had thought, when the king told me the news yesterday, that Father might have been waiting for me to mature, but if you were chosen so young, why me now?”
“You’ll have to ask your father to be certain. I was a perfect candidate though. Orphaned young. No living close relatives. No wish to ever marry or have children. And you? I can only speculate, but I imagine your father wanted to keep at least one son out of harm’s way. But bloody fool that you are, you thrust yourself into danger daily. Might as well be doing it for a noble cause.”
A sense of need swelled inside him. He would make his father proud. He’d not acknowledged the desire to want to in many years, but now he could. He was facing all sorts of buried demons today. “Why hasn’t anyone tracked De La Touche down before now?”
“We have, but he got away from us. Sutton was the lead for tracking him down, but now Sutton is gone.”
“Am I to be the one to hunt De La Touche?”
“No. You’re to help me. Once our contacts trace De La Touche’s new hiding place we’ll go together. You’ll be my backup.”
“Excellent. I’m ready.”
Gravenhurst chuckled. “You’re not even close to ready, my friend. But when I’m through with you, you will be.”
Retracing her steps, Madelaine plodded up the hill. Her back screamed for relief from her hunched over position, but if she stood she couldn’t see the grass near as well. At the top, she straightened and rubbed her back. “It’s hopeless.”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth replied. “We will find the queen’s ring.”
“I don’t see how.” Madelaine waved a hand toward the lake. Up here it looked smaller than it really was. “Look at all the ground we covered with our morning stroll. She’s set me an impossible task. That ring could have slipped off her finger anywhere. I think she wants me to fail.” Madelaine slumped to the ground in defeat.
“Don’t fret.” Elizabeth sat down and patted Madelaine’s arm. “We’ll find it, and then perhaps she’ll start to see how devoted you are to her.”
Madelaine snorted. “It was kind of you to volunteer to help me, but you should go back to Frogmore and join the others for lunch.”
Elizabeth shook her head.
Madelaine stared at her new friend. She was very grateful, but she couldn’t allow her to continue to help. “I’ll be fine. There are guards everywhere out here.”
“I know that, silly. But the guards won’t help you look. And two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
“But if she’s angry with me it may filter to you.”
“Her temper will cool soon enough if it does. Besides, the costume ball tonight will put her in a fine mood.”
Without thought, Madelaine hugged Elizabeth. “I owe you for this.”
“No.” Elizabeth stood and held her hand out. “I owe you for how terrible I was.”
“You were not terrible.” Madelaine grasped Elizabeth’s hand and stood. “You were afraid. There’s a difference. Consider whatever debt you think you owe, paid. Shall we head back down the hill and around the lake once again?”
“Absolutely.” Elizabeth looked past Madelaine and grinned.
“What is it?” An infectious smile pulled at her own lips, though her situation hardly warranted anything to be happy about.
“I have a feeling our luck is about to change.”
“You do?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“What makes you feel that way?”
“Not what, but who.”
Madelaine came to her friend’s side and stared down the gentle slope of the hill they had climbed. Down, by the lake, making his way toward them was a tall, broad-shouldered man with gleaming, curly black hair. Her heart fluttered. “Whatever do you think your brother is doing out here?”
Shaking her head with a smile, Elizabeth said, “I imagine he’s looking for you. After all, he is your protector now.”
“Bite your tongue!” Madelaine exclaimed. “I told you he offered to protect me from Lord Thorton. That is all. Don’t you dare say a word. I’d die of mortification.”
Elizabeth giggled. “I doubt you’d perish, but I promise not to hint that I know Grey likes you.”
“He doesn’t like me,” Madelaine whispered, afraid he might somehow hear. He must have jogged up the hill for he was almost at the top.
“He’s my brother. I’ve known him all my life. And I tell you, you’re special. He’s offered a lot of things to a lot of women and protection was never one of them.”
“Indeed she is special,” Lord Grey said, cresting the hill. Damp, black curls clung to his forehead
, and she had the urge to reach out and push the thick locks to the side. Her fingers tingled, as well as the rest of her body.
“What are you doing out here, Lord Grey?” She had no idea how to respond to his statement that she was special. She couldn’t deny the way her heart had jerked with his words, but she needed to be careful. Wanting to seduce her was not the same as wanting to court her.
“I was looking for you.”
How did every word he said manage to sound crafted for seduction? Warmth spread through her limbs. She might have stood there indefinitely staring at him if not for Elizabeth nudging her in the side. “Told you,” Elizabeth whispered near Madelaine’s ear.
“What did you tell Lady Madelaine, Liz?”
“I told her you liked her.”
“Elizabeth,” Madelaine hissed in warning. “I don’t think that at all, Lord Grey.”
“You should.” He stepped so near her, his heat enveloped her and his scent of fresh pine surrounded her. He reached toward her, and a thousand pinpricks raced across her skin in anticipation of his touch. Then he paused and her breath hitched. Was he reconsidering touching her? He dropped his hand to his side, and her heart dropped a little with it. But then he gave her a glorious smile. The same one that yesterday had made her feel as if he’d never smiled like that for anyone but her. She trembled and prayed neither he nor his sister noticed how he affected her.
Elizabeth’s eyes protruded. “Well, this is certainly something I have never seen.”
“What is?” Madelaine asked, glad to have the attention off her.
“Grey playing by the strict rules of etiquette.” Elizabeth stared at her brother. “I had thought perhaps you didn’t know how.” Her voice held a teasing note and she was grinning.
“Of course I know how.” A wolfish smile spread across his face. “I just never met a woman I wanted to play by the rules for.” Heavens, was he serious? Was this some new ploy of seduction he was trying? She had no idea how to respond.
What A Rogue Wants Page 8
