The Duke and the Assassin (The Royal Agents of MI6 Book 1)

by Heather Slade

  “I volunteered.”

  Of course Rivet would shield the duchess from having to answer.

  “How were you compensated for this union?”

  “Thornton!” my mother gasped.

  “It’s okay, Victoria. It’s a logical question for him to ask.”

  “One I expect an answer to,” I told them.

  “Both of us do,” added Wilder.

  “Your father played an integral role in gaining my employment with SIS.”

  “What about the knighthood?” Wilder asked.

  “The duke had nothing to do with that.”

  “Was Wilder’s and my employment with SIS part of this arrangement?”

  “Neither were,” Rivet answered.

  “Why did my father tell me to find Matthew?”

  “My wife suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder as does her son.”

  “Where is he presently?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why did my father tell me to find him ‘before it was too late’?”

  “And why did I overhear you say that now that Anna was dead, Rivet no longer had an excuse to wait?” added Wilder.

  Again, Rivet answered for the duchess. “As for Anna, she begged me not to go after Matthew. She knew that if I did, he might be incarcerated. With her as sick as she was…my focus was primarily on her care. As for why your father told you to find him before it was too late, I can’t say for certain, but I believe he may have attempted to get in touch with the duke.”

  “It was right after the first stroke. I believe Matthew’s demands may have triggered the others,” the duchess interjected.

  “What demands?” I asked.

  For the third time, my mother looked at Rivet before responding.

  “He wanted to be named rightful heir,” she said only after Rivet nodded.

  “Did he make any threats?” asked Wilder.

  “He did.”

  When I saw my brother stalking toward Rivet, I intercepted him. “Whatever you intend to do, I implore you not to.”

  “Why not? You heard him. Our father’s illegitimate son is a sociopath who made threats against our family.”

  “Sutton, Matthew is mentally ill—”

  Wilder turned on our mother. “Are you defending him?”

  “Why haven’t you apprehended him?” I asked before the duchess had a chance to respond.

  “There wasn’t enough of a credible threat that would’ve allowed us to.”

  Wild shook his head in disgust. “And yet you believe these threats triggered our father’s series of strokes.”

  “I don’t know for certain, Sutton.”

  I grabbed the back of the chair in front of me when the ramifications of this conversation dawned on me. “Do you have any reason to believe that Matthew had anything to do with the bomb that almost killed Losha and our son?”

  Rivet didn’t need to answer. I saw it in his eyes.

  “You bloody sonuvabitch,” I seethed. As much as Wilder had wanted to attack the man only moments ago, it took all of my self-restraint not to do so myself. “I couldn’t reach her,” I muttered. “I couldn’t fucking reach her.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Wilder.

  “Losha—I couldn’t reach her. Is the man in England?”

  “It is possible.”

  I got right in his face when Rivet stood. “You better fucking pray that there is a good explanation as to why I was unable to reach the mother of my child, my sister, nor the man that I entrusted with her and my son’s well-being. If anything has happened to them, not only will I kill this Matthew, you’ll be next on my list.”

  The duchess got between Rivet and me. “Thornton, I will not allow this kind of talk.”

  I glared at her. “Stay out of this, Mother. This is none of your concern.”

  “Can’t you see this may be for the best? Isn’t it obvious that the sins of the father are repeating with the son?”

  I took two steps back, trying to reconcile the words my mother had just spoken. Had she actually suggested that something happening to my son and his mother would be for the best?

  “Wait, Thornton, I didn’t mean that in the way it sounded,” she cried. “I didn’t mean something should happen to the child.”

  I could barely look at her. Whether she’d meant her words in the way they sounded or not, she was, in some way, alluding that my being the father of an illegitimate baby was a sin. As Wilder had said earlier, we weren’t living in the eighteenth century. To think that my own father had allowed another man to marry the mother of his firstborn child was something I couldn’t fathom any more than what my mother had just said to me.

  “We have to go,” I said to Wilder. “Now.”

  Wild was ahead of me, but turned to address Rivet. “Whatever resources there are from any section of SIS, they need to be on their way to Whittaker Abbey immediately.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” answered Rivet.

  “You best pray this is a false alarm, and nothing has happened to them. If something has, I’ll kill you with my bare hands before Shiver has the chance.” Wilder turned to our mother. “And you, Duchess, best think long and hard about what you just suggested. Like Shiver, if anything has happened to Losha or the baby, I will also hold you personally responsible.”

  “But that isn’t what I meant…”

  I heard my brother’s words and the cries of my mother, but I couldn’t stop to process them. Losha and the baby were in grave danger; I felt certain of it.

  Rivet followed us to the lift. “Before you go, here is his likeness.” He handed me a photograph.

  “This is Matthew?”

  Rivet nodded. “Do you recognize him?”

  I handed the photo to Wilder who shook his head. “Looks familiar, but I can’t place him.”

  I studied the image a second time. “How recent is this?”

  “Not more than a couple of years.”

  “He looks…Jesus! It’s Thomas,” I exclaimed, punching the buttons on the lift.

  “Let me see that again,” said Wilder, holding out his hand. “It is him.”

  “Who is Thomas?” I heard my mother ask from inside the flat.

  “The driver.”

  36

  Losha

  I was laughing at something Darrow said as I followed her into Covington House, so when Shiver’s sister came to a dead stop, I ran right into the back of her, pinning Kazmir between us.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, taking a step back and then looking up to see the gun pointed directly at the woman’s temple.

  I heard a man’s voice telling Darrow to move and then saw him yank her arm. Before I could turn and flee, the same gun was pointed at my baby boy.

  “Stop right where you are!” the man, who looked vaguely familiar, shouted at me, and I froze. “Get inside,” he demanded, waving the gun but not enough that I could take action.

  My eyes met Darrow’s, and I slowly shook my head, praying she wouldn’t do anything foolish. It was too dangerous for either of us to try to thwart a man with a gun trained on my son.

  “Sit there!” the man shouted at us.

  We sat side by side on a sofa, with Kazmir on my lap. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

  “Don’t touch it!” the man yelled.

  Within moments, the same thing happened with Darrow’s phone.

  I quickly surveyed the room while he stood a few feet from us. The only houses I’d been in on the estate were the abbey and Wellie’s cottage. It was unlikely the layout of this one was similar to either. Planning an escape route after first figuring out how to disarm the man with the gun, would be impossible.

  My next concern was Pinch. He was either on his way here or going directly to Dorchester House. If it was the latter, then he would likely circle back here when we didn’t arrive as planned.

  Whoever had called, whether it was Shiver, Pinch, or someone else, would be on high alert after not being able to reach me or Darrow.


  Between Wellie’s cottage and here, I hadn’t seen signs of the security team I had already been aware of before Shiver told me about them. Wasn’t there supposed to be eyes on me and Kazmir at all times? Were they somehow in on this?

  I studied the man, knowing I’d seen him recently, but I couldn’t place him.

  “Who are you?” asked Darrow.

  “None of your concern,” he spat.

  “What do you want of us?”

  “You’ll learn that soon enough.”

  “If it’s money you want, I can arrange for a ransom, and for your safe passage,” she offered.

  “Silence!” the man shouted at Darrow and shook his head. “You offer money that doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to me. Do you understand? It’s mine.”

  “Matthew,” I whispered.

  “What did you say?” he shouted at me.

  “You’re Matthew.”

  “Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard, Losha.”

  “Where have we met before?”

  “No talking!” the man shouted, waving the gun at us.

  “If it isn’t money you want, what is it?”

  “I want what should have been mine all along.”

  I suddenly realized where I recognized the man from. When I’d seen him before, he’d had dark sunglasses on and I’d only seen him for brief moments, mainly from behind. “The driver,” I muttered, immediately wishing I hadn’t said it out loud.

  The man’s crow-like cackle sent shivers up my spine. “A hired driver, like a servant, on an estate that is my birthright.”

  “Who are you?” asked Darrow. “Why do you think you have any claim on Whittaker Abbey?”

  The man moved closer, getting almost in Darrow’s face. The only thing stopping me from acting was that his gun was pointed at my precious son. I pulled Kazmir closer, praying the baby wouldn’t do anything to further anger the man.

  “Who am I?” he seethed. “I am your oldest brother. The rightful heir to Whittaker Abbey. The man who should now, and will soon be, the duke.”

  “If you’re the heir, why haven’t my brothers or I ever met you?”

  “Because your bitch of a mother married the duke when my own mum should’ve been the next duchess.”

  What Darrow was doing was exactly what I had been trained to do. The hostage appealing to the human side of the would-be assassin.

  I kept my focus riveted on the man, looking for any sign that I could overwhelm him and take his gun.

  I heard a sound from outside that the man had obviously noticed as well.

  “Silence!” he shouted a second time, and to my horror, Kazmir began to wail.

  37

  Shiver

  Thoughts ran through my mind so fast, I couldn’t focus. I tried again to reach Losha, then Darrow, and finally, Pinch. All to no avail. The list of people I’d kill if anything happened to her or our child, grew by the minute.

  When my phone buzzed, I almost went through the roof of Wilder’s car.

  “Please, please, please be Losha,” I pleaded, but it wasn’t. It was Pinch, and he was the second on the list of people I prayed I’d hear from.

  “Pinch—”

  “Shiver, we have a code black—Losha and Darrow are being held captive, and we can’t get to them.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “He’s got explosives set up all around Covington House. Dorchester too.”

  I wanted to scream at Pinch, ask why the hell he’d let them out of his sight in the first place, but Pinch’s focus couldn’t be on answering my questions. His mind had to be on how to rescue the most important people on earth to me.

  “Where’s Pimm?” I asked Wilder, who immediately placed the call to find out.

  “We’ve lost several operatives, Shiv. He’s taken out at least ten, maybe more. Our radios are down. It all seemed to happen at once.”

  “We’re on our way back, another forty-five minutes out.” Why the hell hadn’t it dawned on me to go by heli? Jesus.

  “Wilder is contacting Pimm. Rivet is sending the full force of SIS.” Although, without radio communication, it would be impossible for Pinch to let them know the kind of help he needed.

  “I’ve got Pimm,” said Wilder.

  “Hold on, Pinch.”

  I grabbed Wilder’s phone. “Pimm, please tell me you’re in the UK, preferably in London.”

  “Better than that. I was already on my way to Bedfordshire. I’ll arrive in less than ten.”

  “Thank God. The radio system is down. Call Pinch on his cell.”

  “Understood.”

  I ended the call with Pimm on Wilder’s phone and placed another call to Rivet. As much as I hated the fact that I had to rely on him, I had no choice.

  “Here’s what I know so far, and here’s what I need you to do.”

  When I finished briefing Rivet, I picked up my call with Pinch.

  “Pimm just arrived. I’ll ring you back, Shiv.”

  “What’s happening?” Wilder asked when I tossed my cell on the seat.

  I told him about the explosives and the fallen operatives.

  “How the hell did one man arrange all of this in an hour’s time?”

  I shook my head. Best guess? He’d been planning something like this since before the duke fell ill. God knew how the man got MI5 credentials—obviously Rivet had no knowledge he had.

  In the last twenty-four hours, he’d had free access to Losha, our baby, Pinch, and me. He’d been able to follow everything that was happening in real time since he’d made himself the main contact at the garage.

  “He’s fucking sick,” said Wilder, mirroring my thoughts exactly. “What’s his plan, Shiver?”

  “To take us all out, Wild.”

  “My thoughts precisely.”

  When Wilder and I arrived at Whittaker Abbey less than an hour later, a command center had been set up and Pimm was briefing the agents Rivet had sent on how to diffuse the explosives. I listened, thanking God when I heard Pimm say it had to be done in such a way that the alert system would not notify the bomb’s maker of its diffusion.

  The man had drawn out where we needed to start and what components we needed to leave in place.

  “We’ll go to Covington House first,” said Pimm. “The second team will be on standby at Dorchester.”

  I nodded and motioned for Pinch and Wilder to follow me.

  “As soon as Pimm gives the word, this is how we’ll go in.”

  38

  Losha

  I held Kazmir as close to me as I could while our captor checked his phone.

  “It won’t be long now,” he said, smiling down at us. “Everything is going as planned.”

  The only way I knew to keep Kazmir quiet was to nurse him. I shifted him to my breast, covered myself, and said a silent prayer that he’d drift to sleep.

  My eyes met Darrow’s. Shiver’s sister was holding it together well, but how much longer would she be able to?

  “What will you do to us?” Darrow asked.

  “It’s quite simple, really. They’re aware you’re here and still alive. They’ll come, thinking they can save you, but what they don’t know is that I’ve been planning this since I was a lad.”

  I gave a slight head nod to Darrow. The more she could get him to tell us, the better we’d be able to act when given the opportunity.

  “What will happen when they come for us?”

  “Kaboom!” shouted Matthew, jarring Kazmir awake.

  I eased him back on the breast before he could fuss.

  “What’s the point, then?” Darrow asked.

  “Come again.”

  “Seems obvious to me, Matthew. ‘Kaboom,’ as you said, means we all blow up. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just introduce yourself to my brother than kill yourself?”

  “No, no, no,” he laughed. “I will be long gone by the time they’ve crossed the threshold. And then, without a living heir, I will simply submit my DNA and, as I’ve said, everyth
ing that rightfully belongs to me shall be mine.”

  Darrow shook her head and laughed. “I guess you haven’t been read in on my brother’s meetings with the solicitor.”

  I watched the man turn his back on Darrow, at first, seeming as though he was disinterested in what she was saying.

  “About what?”

  “The trust, of course. Thornton has no interest in Whittaker Abbey. He never has. Neither Sutton nor I have either. Upon the duke’s death, Thornton had his trust rewritten, giving the estate in its entirety back to the crown, as it were, as so many in our position have been forced to do. The income will never be what it once was, and the taxes, well, they could bankrupt us inside of the first year.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Darrow shrugged. “All of this for nothing,” she said. “Such a shame.”

  “Silence!” he shouted again as he paced in front of the window.

  He wasn’t afraid of being seen. In fact, he wanted to be. He must have some kind of trigger set to alert him when someone crossed the outer parameter, at which point, he’d leave through the only safe passage out of the house. Once whoever was coming in after us crossed the second parameter, whatever explosives he’d put into place, would detonate, killing us all.

  Anyone analyzing the situation would assume it was a simple hostage negotiation. They would have no idea that, instead, the man who held us captive had been planning something this elaborate for years.

  I’d said few prayers in my lifetime, and those I had were always for the safety of my precious Kazmir.

  Tonight I prayed not only for him, but for myself and his father, Darrow, Wilder, Pinch, and even Wellie. God save our souls if not our lives.

  39

  Shiver

  I watched Pimm as he painstakingly separated wires, reattaching them just as carefully.

  “That’s it,” he said, looking up at me. “You’re in.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Pimm had reprogrammed the device’s detonation protocol so it neither alerted a system failure nor a parameter breach. As far as Matthew Caird knew, everything was working the way he’d initially set it up.