Dueling With the Duke (Brotherhood of the Sword) (13 page)

Franklin pulled back the small curtain on the carriage window. “We should arrive in London in the next hour.”

In the meantime, Gabe retrieved his notebook and jotted down everything he knew about Thornton and Isabel and Lilith. Somehow he would find the pattern and figure out how all of this connected with Thornton’s attempt on Her Majesty’s life.

Chapter Twelve

Two hours later, Gabe found himself waiting in the temporary outer offices at Parliament. Since the fire in the Palace of Westminster, several years before, the offices had been shifted and rearranged, though Gabe had heard that a new design was recently approved. In any case, the area still felt foreign to him. He’d tried sitting in one of the chairs, but found the long carriage ride necessitated that he stand. The pacing, though…that stemmed from something else.

He’d requested an audience with Potterfield, but the man was occupied at the moment. Franklin had disappeared, presumably back to Brinbonnet village. The man had been swift, precise, and thorough, all good qualities for members of the Brotherhood. It did beg the question as to why “real” membership was only open to those born to the most elite of families. Obviously there were others who were just as capable living elsewhere.

The door opened and Ellis entered, followed by Potterfield, Somersby, St. Giles and Reacher. Gabe had expected Potterfield to be holed up with someone other than members of the Brotherhood, else he would have been admitted into the previous meeting. Perhaps his direct disobedience had garnered him more trouble than he’d anticipated. Somersby patted Gabe on the back, then stood beside him; Ellis stepped over and flanked his other side. A show of solidarity, perhaps; Gabe couldn’t be certain.

“Lynford,” Potterfield said, his tone a mixture of relief and irritation. “What have you done to yourself?” He motioned to Gabe’s immobilized arm.

“Shot, sir. By Lord Thornton.”

Potterfield’s brows rose. “So he is not dead.”

“It would seem not,” Gabe said. He turned to Ellis. “Where is Isabel?”

“She is downstairs, in the tunnels, safe,” Ellis said.

Gabe shook his head and then swore. “The tunnels are not safe.” It was something he should have notified them about when he’d first found the illustrated plans, but he’d been so wrapped up in Lilith that he’d negated his true purpose, keeping Queen Victoria safe. He’d likely lose his position in the Brotherhood for this. “I discovered notes in Thornton’s belongings, drawings of the tunnels.”

“How the devil did he get those?” Somersby asked.

“I have no idea,” Gabe said.

“It is unlikely he’s the only one who has them,” Somersby said.

Potterfield held up one hand. “Precisely who is this girl we’re suddenly protecting?”

“Until yesterday I was not certain who she was, but we turned up evidence that indicates she is the lost princess of Saldania,” Gabe said.

Potterfield swore. It was an unusual outcry for the normally poised man. He looked at the other men. “Somersby, go and make certain Her Majesty is secured. Ellis and Lynford, you stay here. The rest of you go into the tunnels for added security. Do not allow that girl out of your sight.”

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d prefer to continue watching her myself,” Ellis said.

“In a moment. For now she’ll be safe with them,” Potterfield said. When the other men had not yet left, he motioned with his hand. “Move, this new information has put our queen in immediate danger.”

“What is going on?” Ellis asked.

Potterfield waited until the other men had left the room. “I think I know what all of this is about.” He paced the length of the room before settling into one of the chairs. Gabe and Ellis joined him.

“All? Meaning what?” Ellis asked.

“The assassination attempt. The lost princess.” Potterfield made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

“The heir to the Saldanian throne has claim to England’s throne as well,” Gabe said.

Potterfield nodded.

“Yes, but Victoria has already been coroneted. Would these fools expect her to abdicate the throne to hand it over to Isabel?” Ellis asked. “That is provided that their assassination attempts have failed.”

“Not exactly. Several months ago, there was some correspondence intercepted between King Ernest Augustus of Hanover and some of his supporters, those who thought he should have been the rightful heir to the throne of England.”

“Ridiculous,” Gabe said.

“Indeed,” Potterfield said. “But dangerous thinking nonetheless.”

“Is the king himself involved in such thinking?” Gabe asked.

“No, but I doubt he would deny the throne if someone rightfully offered it to him,” Potterfield said.

“What do they hope to accomplish with Isabel?” Ellis asked.

“It is true that she herself has a legitimate claim to the throne,” Potterfield said. “But were she married off to Ernest Augustus’s son, it could create a strong union.”

“I believe Somersby said that Victoria herself had already refused interest in marrying George,” Gabe said.

Pottersfield thrummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “They are frustrated because though Victoria is young, they are unable to control her.”

“These people already had their hands on Isabel once,” Ellis said.

Pottersfield’s brows rose.

“They took her from my townhome, but I was able to track them quickly and save her.”

“It would seem that you had the foresight to know the girl needed protection. Well done,” Potterfield said.

Ellis nodded.

“Indeed. It seems forcing a union between Isabel and George would almost guarantee another threat on Victoria’s life,” Gabe said.

“I won’t make the same mistake again.” Ellis came to his feet. “I’ll keep the princess protected. They will not find Isabel. The rest of you can keep Victoria safe.”

“Where will you go?” Potterfield asked.

“I’ll send word when we get there,” Ellis said.

Potterfield nodded. “I need only know you are safe. You are the best tracker and rider the Brotherhood has. I know you’ll do what is necessary to make certain you aren’t followed, but I would be remiss not to remind you of the stakes.”

“Find the bastards who are planning this so I can eventually return home,” Ellis said.

Once they were alone, Potterfield leaned back in his seat and braced his hands on the chair’s arms. “You deliberately disobeyed orders.”

“I did. I also was right.”

“That may be, but we cannot have members running off half cocked and getting away with it simply because a hunch proved true,” Potterfield said.

“What does that mean?” Gabe asked.

“That were we not in the current situation you would be put on probation until further notice.”

The news should have distressed him, yet he found all he could think about was the danger Lilith was in. Yes, she’d likely betrayed him, but it mattered not. Her safety was all that mattered.

“Luckily for you we need every member pulling his own weight to ensure our monarch’s safety.”

When Gabe had no reaction other than to nod, Potterfield asked, “What’s gotten into you, Gabe?” He shook his head. “This behavior is Somersby, not you. You have always been a stickler for the rules, understanding they’re in place for everyone’s protection.”

It was Lilith, plain and simple. He’d known from the moment he met her that she was nothing but trouble. Something about her called to that inner part of him, that dangerous, hard-to-contain part that was reckless and foolhardy.

“You still have not answered me,” Potterfield said.

“Nothing, sir. I am merely following the evidence, trying to catch an assassin.” Would that it was all he’d been doing.

“You’ve had an excellent career here with the Brotherhood. I would hate to see you toss that aside for someone who does not deserve your affections.”

It was unlike Potterfield to give such personal advice. “Sir?”

“Choose wisely.” Potterfield stood and walked out of the room.

It was true. Gabe had been behaving uncharacteristically. He’d disobeyed direct orders and he’d cast all reason aside and taken Lilith to his bed, then reconciled himself to marrying her. None of that mattered now. She was still very much married to Thornton, and Gabe had no idea how much of the assassination plot was Thornton’s alone.

Was that why she’d refused to marry him? Had she known all along that she was still married? She’d allowed him to put his hands on her body; had that been part of her plan all along? Distract him with passion?

It didn’t seem possible. She had wanted Gabe, truly desired him, and she’d been surprised when Thornton had broken into their room at the inn, unless that had been part of the plan as well.

Damnation. He thought he knew her well enough, but she was an accomplished actress and had fooled him before, hadn’t she? He’d spent so much time believing the worst of her, blaming her for Rafe’s death when it had been his brother’s own foolhardy nature that had cause the duel. Hell, Gabe didn’t know what the truth was anymore. Other than it had been much easier hating Lilith.

Now he was presented with the knowledge that whether she wanted to be married to Thornton or not, she was not safe. Gabe knew what monster he was. If the man would attempt to assassinate the queen, there was no end to the wretched things he could do to his own wife. Gabe would not leave her in Thornton’s hands no matter what. If she wanted to escape, Gabe was honor bound to assist her.

…

Lilith had been back in her home for less than a day. Well, Thornton’s home. Her only solace was being close to Millie again. Her sweet maid had been full of stories about Thornton’s nephew, who had already come to claim the title amongst rumors of the earl’s death. Earlier that day he had been sent on his way, blustering about his uncle’s miraculous rise from the grave.

Thankfully once they’d returned to London, Thornton had busied himself in his office and hadn’t bothered Lilith again. At least he hadn’t for the last several hours, but it was dark now and his appetites had always run strongest after the sun set. Millie currently ran a brush through Lilith’s hair; the methodical motion almost lulled her into a sense of calm. This, being back here in this house, waiting for her husband to call upon her, this had been her life for the last five years. For a few short days, she’d thought her fortune had changed, that she finally had been set free. She should have known that life was merely being cruel, giving her a taste of what she could have been had she been Gabe’s wife rather than Thornton’s.

“That’ll be all, Millie. Thank you.”

“Yes, my lady. I am glad you’re safe, but—” She stopped herself before she spoke out of turn. Then curtseyed and left the room.

Lilith followed and locked the door. She then went and barricaded the door to the adjoining chamber by shoving a desk in the way. It might not keep him out, but it would at least alert her to his presence should he seek her out tonight. After being in Gabe’s arms, there was no going back to Thornton, even if it was her wifely duty. The mere thought of his touch churned her stomach.

The good thing was, his leaving her alone had given her enough time to think through everything. She’d finally figured out a solution that would hopefully help Gabe, provided it wasn’t too late and he’d bled to death in that inn, and get Thornton killed. She’d lead him straight to the Brotherhood. If they wouldn’t kill Thornton, she’d have to do it herself.

…

Gabe had gone home to retrieve everything he thought he’d need in a confrontation with Thornton—the ring, money, and a pistol. The signet ring that Mary McCord had given them, the one that proved Isabel the lost princess of Saldania—perhaps that was all Thornton would require. The money would be there to buy Thornton off, if necessary. And the pistol as a last resort in case none of the other items worked. Gabe was in no shape physically for any kind of altercation. Though the shot to his shoulder had been cleaned and was not infected, he still couldn’t move that arm with any great force. Pride dictated that he protect her himself, that he should be strong enough, but devil hang it, her safety was more important than his stupid pride. Because he wasn’t a fool, he went back to headquarters to ask for help. Perhaps Somersby could lend a hand; he’d overpowered Thornton once before.

By the time he got there, the sun was setting. Still, it didn’t take him long to locate Somersby as the man was waiting outside Potterfield’s office.

“He’s on a tear today,” Gabe said as he approached.

Somersby nodded. “I heard you nearly got suspended.” He chuckled. “I thought I was the only one who ever got in that sort of trouble. It usually blows over after a few days.”

“Good to know. So I was hoping you could assist me with something.”

“Something, I take it, you’re not even supposed to be handling?” Somersby asked.

“Doubtful, though I haven’t actually sought permission.”

“I’m in,” Somersby said with a chuckle. “What do you need?”

Gabe filled the man in on going after Thornton to save Lilith.

“What if the lady does not wish to be saved?” Somersby asked. “As a newly engaged man, I can tell you that headstrong females do not always cooperate with rescues.”

“You and Miss Marrington? I had not heard. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Do you want me to reschedule my appointment with Potterfield?”

Before Gabe could answer, Potterfield’s office door opened, and a man stepped out. The man was short and rounding in the middle section, and likely close to Potterfield’s age. He wore the finest of fabrics, though Gabe noted the man’s choice in clothing bordered on obnoxious with too many colors and patterns. His thinning hair had been curled, a ridiculous effort, Gabe assumed, to make it appear as if the man were not going bald. It would seem that this man, whomever he was, took great care in his appearance at least insomuch as wanting others to recognize that he had wealth and status.

“Thank you, Percival, it is most appreciated,” the man said. He turned and faced Gabe and Somersby. “My lords,” he said.

The hairs on the back of Gabe’s neck crawled upward. He knew that voice. Where did he know that voice?
Saint Bartholomew’s.

Damnation! He was the man Gabe and Lilith had heard in Mr. Hazleton’s office. The one who had killed the headmaster.

“Always happy to oblige, Mr. Speaker,” Potterfield said.

“The speaker. Of the House of Commons,” Gabe said.

“I don’t believe we’ve officially met,” the man said with an arrogant grin.