“I brought a change of clothing,” Will said. “I’ll get my saddlebags so you can get into something dry before you freeze to death. Do you want me to dispose of this fellow’s body on the way?”
Kiri turned away with a shudder. “If you don’t mind. Quite apart from trying to murder your brother, he was in favor of gang raping and killing me.”
“I hope he doesn’t give the fish indigestion.” Will lifted Howard under the arms and dragged him from the cave, efficiently avoiding getting bloodstains on himself.
As soon as he was out of sight, Mackenzie drew Kiri into his arms again. “You have a faint scent of Eau de Fish,” she breathed against his throat as she pressed herself full length against him. “Will any other smugglers be coming?”
“It’s the wrong phase of the moon for their work. Will you help me warm up?” He kissed her with desperate hunger, his hands roving down her back and over her buttocks. Though his lips were cold, she warmed them quickly.
If not for the knowledge that Will would return in a few minutes, Kiri would rip Mackenzie’s cold, wet garments off so she could really warm him up. Relief and passion were a heady mixture.
They managed to separate before Will reappeared. Kiri suspected that he was deliberately making enough noise to warn them.
Will tossed a small saddlebag to Mackenzie. “Lucky we’re the same size. I haven’t any spare boots, but the sooner you get out of your wet clothes, the better.”
“I’ll build up the fire and see if I can find the makings for tea,” Kiri said. “And I promise I’ll keep my back turned.” She wouldn’t mind seeing Mackenzie naked, but this seemed a good time to maintain the proprieties.
Will reached inside his coat and pulled out a packet. “Tea. I have sugar also. No milk since that’s too hard to carry.”
She laughed as she caught the tea. “Which of you first came up with the idea of the greatcoat as supply train?”
The brothers looked at each other and grinned. “I did,” Mackenzie said. “Then we started competing to find who could carry the most strange and useful items, and we both decided that all the hidden pockets were too useful to forfeit.”
Kiri looked hopefully at Will. “Do you have anything to eat?”
He pulled out a flat, paper-wrapped packet. “As a matter of fact, I do have some cheese. It’s the easiest and most efficient food to carry around.”
Mackenzie seized the packet and swiftly unwrapped it. “I didn’t mind so much being fed bread and cheese. The real problem is that they didn’t feed me enough of it.”
“Eat it all if you like,” Will said. “Kiri and I got a quick meal in Dover.”
Ostentatiously giving Mackenzie privacy, Kiri tossed more coal on the fire to revive it. Then she investigated an alcove she’d noticed when she was being held prisoner here. As she’d guessed, it was used as a storage area, with crude shelves that held cooking pots of various sizes, a few pieces of cutlery, and chipped plates and mugs. Nothing to eat or drink, but there was a half-full water barrel. No doubt the smugglers had womenfolk who made sure that their men had the basic domestic necessities.
She could hear rustling and squishy wet clothing sounds as she filled a kettle from the water barrel and hung it over the fire. By the time she straightened and brushed her hands off, the men had joined her.
Mackenzie looked considerably better now that he was wearing clean, dry garments. He also had on his brother’s greatcoat. On his feet were only heavy wool socks. He set his saturated boots by the fire, then sank into one of the chairs. “You have more domestic skills than I would expect of a duke’s daughter.”
“I’m also a soldier’s daughter, and when we traveled, I was always visiting the soldiers’ campfires and learning things that would probably have scandalized the general.” The water started to boil, so Kiri used some to warm the chipped brown teapot before adding tea leaves and pouring water on top. “I’m sure my mother knew what I was up to, but she’s a practical woman who thinks all skills are worthwhile.”
“Amen to that,” Mackenzie said. “Will, you’re the artillery expert. Is it possible to explode something like a mattress without anyone noticing before it went off?”
Will found a third crude chair and brought it close to the fire so they could all sit as they drank the tea Kiri poured for them. “The bomb itself is easy. Any kind of hard shell, like a cast-iron naval bomb or even a ceramic crock, could be used by filling it with gunpowder. Pieces of sharpened metal could be added if you want to cut people to shreds. The difficult part would be lighting a fuse without having it be noticed.”
Kiri sucked in her breath. “A mattress . . . Are you thinking a bomb might be put in the Woolsack, that big red ottoman that sits just below the royal throne in the House of Lords? I saw it when Adam took us on a private tour of the Palace of Westminster.”
“The Woolsack is large enough to hold several bombs,” Will said. “Princess Charlotte plans to attend the State Opening, and she would probably be seated right on the Woolsack. But it would be difficult for the conspirators to set off the bomb in a chamber full of people who would surely notice a burning fuse.”
“I had far too much time to think about this,” Mackenzie said grimly. “The fuse could be concealed by drilling holes in the floor underneath the Woolsack. What’s underneath in the cellars? Storage rooms and the like?”
“I believe that’s all,” Will said. “But ever since the Gunpowder Plot, the Beefeaters search the cellars before every State Opening. Wouldn’t they notice a fuse?”
“The Gunpowder Plot involved three dozen barrels of gunpowder, which are hard to miss,” Mackenzie pointed out. “This is much simpler. Come in at night, move the Woolsack, and drill a hole into the cellar. Insert your bomb into the underside of the Woolsack, thread a long fuse through the hole, and move the Woolsack back into position. Go down into the cellar and pin the fuse along a filthy old beam. Who would notice?”
Will looked stricken. “Then wait until the chamber is filled during the ceremony, light the fuse from below, and escape before anyone realizes what happened.”
Kiri asked, “Wouldn’t people smell the burning gunpowder of the fuse?”
“Most of the smell would be confined to the cellar,” Will said. “In the last moments before the bomb exploded, there might be some of that sharp scent, but in such a crowd, it’s not likely anyone would notice in time to act. Clearing a crowded chamber of noblemen and politicians is slow even at the best of times.”
“One bomb going off inside the Woolsack would kill the prince regent, Princess Charlotte, the prime minister, and most of the rest of the government ministers, not to mention half the peerage of England,” Mackenzie said soberly.
“Including Adam,” Kiri whispered. Her desire to protect the royal princess was powerful, but her brother was family.
“Dukes sit right up front. I’d be a little farther away if I take my seat, as I meant to,” Will said. “But the plotters will have trouble getting a bomb into the chamber.”
“Not if the chief conspirator is a lord.” Mackenzie let Kiri empty the last of the tea into his mug. “I’d better back up and explain. Rupert Swinnerton and Lord Fendall are half brothers, and their mother was sister to the mother of Joseph Fouché.”
After shocked silence, Will whistled softly. “That explains a great deal.”
“Thank heaven we can get to London quickly enough tomorrow to arrest all the conspirators and have them safely locked up before the State Opening.”
Kiri bit her lip. “The State Opening is tomorrow.”
Mackenzie choked on his tea. “Damnation! I lost track of a day while I was here. We need to head for London now! ”
“Tell us all you’ve learned while we finish our tea,” Will ordered. “Then we’ll ride to Dover and hire the fastest post chaise we can find. The main ceremony starts about midday, so we should have enough time.”
“But none to spare,” Mackenzie said grimly. “Here’s what I’ve learned. . . .�
�
Chapter 40
They made the trip to London as fast as wheels and horseflesh could take them. Will, who apparently could see in the dark, took over the reins when the postilion that came with the hired horses proved to be too conservative a driver.
Kiri and Mackenzie rode inside the small carriage. Exhausted by his ordeal, Mackenzie was able to sleep even in a vehicle traveling at high speed across a landscape of cold winds and scattered rain.
He ended up folded over with his head and shoulders in Kiri’s lap. She stroked his hair tenderly, shaken by how close he’d come to death.
What a strange, wild month she’d had. When she’d visited Godfrey Hitchcock’s family, she had been rather restlessly looking for a husband and not finding any satisfaction in her hunt. Now she had discovered service, passion, and adventure. How could she go back to her tame former life? Much as she loved making perfumes, she needed other occupations.
She managed to doze some, one hand holding on to a handle to keep from being tossed from the seat, the other resting on Mackenzie’s shoulder. One way or another, soon this would be over. . . .
Mac awoke stiff, bemused, and confused—except for the fact that Kiri was curled into him as they bounced along in a carriage. A gray carriage blanket covered them both, blocking the drafts.
It took him a moment to recall all that had happened. The ride to Dover. Finding a carriage. Almost passing out from exhaustion once he was in the vehicle. He had a vague memory of stopping to change horses at posting houses. He remembered Will telling the postilion that he would take over the driving. Even though he was supremely easygoing, if Will wanted to do something his way, it got done.
Now it was morning, though impossible to guess the time with a heavily overcast sky and a light, spitting rain. Mac stared out the window at a landscape that was moving by fast. They weren’t far south of London.
Hard to believe that catastrophe hovered over Britain in general and the royal family in particular. Reality was Kiri resting in his arms, beautiful beyond belief even with circles under her eyes and her dark hair falling in tangles.
She was the most amazing female he’d ever met as well as the loveliest. He had thought he’d drowned and gone to heaven when he woke up to see first Will, then Kiri. Having his big brother ride to his rescue wasn’t surprising—Will had always been the best and truest person in Mac’s life, and he never, ever let down a friend.
But Kiri was a high-born titled lady. How many such women would come charging halfway across England on a dark and stormy night because a sorry fellow like Mac might be in trouble? And how many would have been able to find a smugglers’ hideout that they’d barely seen in the first place? Will was immensely capable, but he’d never been to the cave, and could not have found his way without Kiri to guide him.
He kissed her forehead with gossamer tenderness. It was impossible to imagine living without her—yet even more impossible to imagine how they could be together for always. Though this time-out-of-time was almost over, he would never forget how special Kiri was, nor how lucky he was to have had the chance to love her.
She shifted, then opened her eyes sleepily as she tucked a hand inside his coat with sweet intimacy. “Beds are much, much more comfortable.”
He grinned. “Are you saying I’m not as good as a mattress?”
“You are harder and lumpier than a mattress, but you do have your uses,” she said, mischief gleaming under her dark lashes. “Where are we?”
She was right about him being harder. “We’re coming into London. I’m guessing at the time since my watch was stolen by Howard, but we should reach Westminster a couple of hours before the ceremony begins.”
“Good.” She stretched hugely, covering a ladylike yawn with one hand. “I wonder if we’ll have a chance to change into more respectable clothing.”
It would be easier to convince royal officials of the danger if they didn’t look like a pack of tinkers, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head. “That would cut the timing too close.”
“We can’t risk that,” she agreed as she looked ruefully at her dirt-spattered cloak and divided riding skirt. “I wonder . . .”
Before she could finish her sentence, catastrophe moved from potential to shatteringly current when Mac heard the unmistakable crack! of a breaking axle.
“’Ware!” he cried out as he wrapped himself around Kiri to prevent her from injury. As the carriage careened off the road and onto its side, he wondered despairingly if the prince regent and his daughter were doomed.
Kiri found out that Mackenzie made a very decent mattress. By protecting her with his body, she survived the carriage crash shaken but undamaged. The vehicle skidded and pitched to the left before smashing down at a severe tilt. As motion stopped, Kiri heard the screaming of frantic horses and the whir of the two wheels that were now up in the air.
She’d landed on top of Mackenzie. When she lifted herself free of his sheltering arms, she was horrified to see blood pouring from a wound where the side of his head had cracked the window frame. “Mackenzie, can you talk? How hurt are you?”
He opened his eyes, blinking dazedly as he brought her face into focus. “Banged my head. Nothing seems broken. You? Will?”
“I’m fine. I’ll check on Will as soon as I’ve bandaged your head wound.” She managed a shaky smile. “I don’t want you to see your own blood and pass out.”
“In that case, I’ll close my eyes.” Which he did. He looked shaken, but apart from the head wound, he didn’t seem badly hurt.
Will’s saddlebags were traveling in the carriage, so she opened them and found a clean shirt. She yanked her knife from the leg sheath, tore the shirt into strips, then used the carriage blanket to blot away the blood saturating Mackenzie’s hair. She found a laceration that was messy but not deep.
After cleaning away as much blood as she could, she swiftly pressed a pad made of folded shirt over the wound, then secured it with a fabric strip wrapped twice around his head. A scarlet stain showed in the middle of the pristine white linen, but the improvised bandage didn’t saturate. “That will do for now. I’ll see how Will is doing.”
“Quickly!” Mackenzie struggled to push himself to a sitting position.
Kiri flattened a hand on his chest and shoved him down again. “Stay still for a few minutes. If you get up now, you might fall over.”
“You’re probably right.” He drew a rough breath. “But please, tell how me how Will is, or I’ll be coming out right behind you.”
“I shall.” The carriage was tilted so severely that the right door was slanted over her. When she pulled herself up on the door frame, the vehicle rocked back onto four wheels again. She clung grimly when it bounced level, the front sagging because of the broken axle. “Are you still all right?”
“Slightly better for sitting upright.” Mac started to move cautiously.
“Please stay there for a few minutes,” she said. “We don’t want the bleeding to start again.”
“Good point,” he muttered.
She grabbed the rest of Will’s shirt and swung to the ground. The horses quieted down due to the efforts of the postilion, who had retained his seat on the near leader when the carriage crashed. “Are you and the gentleman all right, miss?” he asked worriedly.
“Well enough.” She looked about anxiously. “What about Major Masterson?”
“Over there, miss. I haven’t looked at him because I had to settle my team.”
She followed his gesture and bit her lip when she spotted Will. He had been thrown from the driver’s seat into the muddy field and he lay unmoving on his side. Half a dozen swift steps and she was kneeling by him. “Will, can you talk? Are you hurt?”
He exhaled roughly and rolled onto his back. “Not so bad, lass. The mud cushioned my fall.” He gingerly tested his left forearm with his right hand and gasped with pain. “I’ve cracked or broken a bone in my arm, though.”
She raised her voice and called, “Mackenzie
, your brother isn’t badly hurt.” They had been very, very lucky. Letting her voice drop to normal, she continued, “Will, I’ve already used part of your clean shirt to bandage a scalp wound on your brother, and now I’ll use the rest to bind your arm and make a sling. Can you sit up if I help?”
“Maybe.” He looked somewhat skeptical, but when she slid an arm under his shoulders, she was able to get him upright. He caught his breath sharply. “You’re strong, Lady Kiri.”
“Because I’m not much of a lady. Let me slide the coat off your left arm.” She began to chat to distract him from what would be a painful process. “Did the axle break because of the speed we were traveling?”
“I didn’t think so. We didn’t hit any unusual ruts or holes in the road.” He winced as she started to ease the coat off his shoulder. “If the axle was already weakened, traveling at high speed might have brought it to the breaking point.”
By the time the left arm of the greatcoat was off, Will was sweating and Kiri was ready to have strong hysterics. She didn’t like hurting friends, no matter how necessary it was. Not wanting to put him through that again, she bound his left forearm over the sleeve of his regular coat. A proper bonesetter could look at it later. All she could do now was immobilize the bones so they didn’t hurt him so much.
“Where did you learn doctoring?” he asked when she helped him slip his arm into the greatcoat. He winced, but it was too cold to forgo the warmth of the coat.
“I was a ghoulish child and always wanted to watch when the regimental surgeons were fixing men up. They’d usually send me out if there was some really appalling injury, but otherwise I was allowed to watch and learn.”
She used the last of the shirt fabric to make a sling. “A good thing you’re so large. One shirt went a long way.”
Mackenzie emerged from the carriage, holding on to the door frame for balance but looking reasonably well. “I’ll ride one of the horses to the next posting inn, then come back with two good riding hacks. We can’t wait for a blacksmith to repair the axle.”
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