“From Horseguards. Claims this is a matter for the army.”
“A kidnapped pet requires an army?” she cried, aghast.
“It does when it’s the queen’s dog.” His tone was sardonic.
“It’s a damnable power shuffle.”
He crossed his arms and fell back against the wall, sulking. “I know, and there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it.”
“Don’t say that.”
His face was partially shadowed in the glow of the single candle by her bedside, but his features were a mask of defeat. “But it’s true. There’s naught I can do.”
“You can catch the dastards who kidnapped Lancelot and send Thompson back to Horseguards with his tail between his legs.”
Their eyes met and he smiled, just barely.
She suddenly realized her inadvertent pun on canines. “You know what I meant,” she added, feeling absurd.
“They’re going to pay the ransom.”
Her hands clenched. “Is there nothing we can do?”
Pushing away from the wall, he swept past her and stood before the tall open windows. “Did you not hear me? I’m off. Dismissed. If it weren’t for Hogan worrying about rousing you in the middle of the night, they would have me gone by now.”
“We can look for more clues, follow the money. The kidnappers must come to retrieve it—”
“It’s to be placed in a basket and sent downstream,” he interrupted. “Thompson plans to follow it and catch the buggers then.”
“But you can go as well…” she offered hopefully.
“You seem to think that I have a choice in the matter.” Running his hand through his mussed hair, he sighed. “It’s for the best, anyway. We have just over a week until Beaumont’s trial. If I can’t help here, I might as well go back to London and do some good there.”
Lillian felt torn by her loyalties. She believed that Nick could help the queen. And the future of his enquiry business might be in jeopardy. But Dillon needed him too; Dagwood and Lord Langham were pressing hard for prosecution.
She chewed her lip. “Do you think the queen could get us a postponement on Dillon’s trial?”
“You were the one who seemed intent on her not knowing that I was working for Beaumont.”
“I know,” she sighed. “Nobility do not like sharing. The queen would not have been happy if she’d felt that your allegiance and efforts were divided.”
“And now?”
She pressed her hands to her eyes. “I do not believe that we have a choice. Dillon needs you. But so does our queen. I know that you can catch these kidnappers.”
“I appreciate your faith in me, Lillian. But a dog, royal or no, does not equate to a man’s life.”
“Do you think Thompson will capture them?”
“The stream forks in many places. It’ll be impossible to watch every access to the water. These men are probably locals and know every nook and cranny of that river.”
“I hate to see those fiends win,” she grumbled, fisting her hands.
His face softened. “Watch out, Lillian. You might just grow a righteous streak.”
“I cannot stomach all the villainy. It makes me wonder about mankind’s future.”
“Dunn always said not to let a few bad apples turn you against cider.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing he was right but feeling gloomy nonetheless. “We’ve been dealing with a murderer, and now this. How can you be so optimistic?”
He walked over to the window and stared out at the black night. The wind drifted in, gently lifting a coil of dark hair off his forehead. “I’ve felt the pain man can inflict,” he said, his tone bleak. “Yet I’ve experienced great kindness as well. It’s a mixed batch, but not all bad.”
“How…how have you experienced pain?” she asked haltingly. She was curious about his past, so different from her own. For all of her troubles with Kane, Lillian had always had a home, loving grandparents, food on the table. She could not imagine the world that Nick grew up in.
“Dunn was not always the headmaster of Andersen Hall.”
Funereal silence filled the chamber. She waited for more, afraid to press, yet afraid not to ask. “Can you tell me?”
He shrugged, staring off into the dark night. “Festus had been a sergeant major in the army. He believed that the same principles that applied to infantrymen would work just as well with small children.”
She swallowed. “You mean discipline?”
“Discipline, duties, marching. Lord, how we marched. Some days, morning, noon and night. In the rain, in the snow. Heaven help us if we faltered, if we…cried.”
“Why would he insist on such harsh training? You were children, for heaven’s sake.”
“If we were occupied, then we could not get into mischief. Festus liked order.” Nick’s jaw clenched. “Children by nature are not exactly an orderly lot.”
“Didn’t anyone know of this foul treatment?”
“We were orphans,” he scoffed. “Most people were just thankful that we weren’t picking their pockets or stealing their produce. Luckily for me, I was in the nursery for most of his tenure. Others were not as fortunate.”
Chills raised the hairs on her skin. “What happened?”
“Timothy Dobbins was not one for taking orders. He pushed Festus as far as he could, in every way that he could manage. At the end of his rope, Festus decided to teach Timmy a lesson. Flogging and thirteen-year-old boys don’t mix.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Timmy died, and the trustees of the orphanage finally stepped in.”
“They retained Dunn?”
“The trustees made a couple more mistakes before finally bringing Dunn on board. It took us some time to realize how different things were going to be for us.”
“And matters improved?”
“Worlds better. But it was too late for many. Too late for Timmy Dobbins.”
A quiver rippled through her, and she marveled that he’d managed to come out as whole as he was.
His body was stiff with tension, his face haggard with anguish. He seemed so bleak, so alone. Her heart went out to him.
She walked over and slipped her hand into his. He did not look her way or say anything, but his fingers curled around hers, cupping her hand in warmth.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered.
“There’s no point in being sorry. Just in facing forward, moving on and making things better. That’s why I cannot let Dunn’s legacy die. We cannot let Andersen Hall close.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“So they tell me…. Perhaps I am not meant to run an enquiry agency, Lillian? Perhaps this is a sign.”
“I have never seen someone so perfectly suited to their profession.”
“But what if I am meant to do more worthwhile, nobler things?”
“Saving an innocent man from the hangman’s noose is not noble? Punishing Lady Langham’s killer is not righteous? Helping protect the queen from villainy is not worthwhile?” Resting her cheek on his arm, she added, “I do not think that Dunn would have you give up so easily.”
He sighed. “He would have liked you.”
“But would he have agreed with me?”
He seemed to consider it a long moment. “Yes, I believe he would. Dunn always said to follow your heart, but be certain your skills were the ones needed to do it.”
“Wise man.”
The breeze drifted in, carrying with it the scent of honeysuckle. The gentle sounds of the night filled the chamber and brought a modicum of peace.
She did not know how long they stood there, side by side, giving comfort with a touch. His nearness brought the titillating warmth that he stirred inside her, but it was tinged with tenderness. He was in pain, and she felt his grief as if it were her own. For the moment, the connection between them was less about passion than compassion.
Slowly he released her hand and ran his hand through his hair. “I should not have come to your b
edroom, I just…”
“I’m glad you came,” she soothed. “I wanted to know what was happening.”
“I wish I had better news.”
“You must be exhausted. Have you had any dinner?”
He shook his head.
She gently propelled him over to the small table and urged him into a chair. Pushing the tray toward him, she poured a goblet of wine.
“That’s your dinner,” he argued halfheartedly.
“They gave me enough for an army—but I will not share it with the overambitious Colonel Thompson, only you.”
“I feel honored,” he rejoined with teasing sincerity. She was glad to see the tightness in his face lighten a bit.
“Try the veal, it is delicious,” she added, handing him the goblet of wine.
She sat on the chair across from him and watched as he dug into the food. His movements as he ate were labored, but they soon quickened. He finished one plate and then another, his face growing more animated with each serving. The hunch slowly disappeared from his shoulders, and his features lost some of their tautness.
Sipping from his glass, he sighed. “Thank you, Lillian. I did not know how hungry I was. Tell me something good,” he asked, inclining in the chair. “How have you occupied yourself this afternoon?”
“Wilson took me to visit the dogs.”
“Not Mr. Glen?”
“Mr. Glen was in a sorry state. He injured himself while looking for Lancelot, and he was understandably upset.”
Nick tilted his head. “What kind of injury?”
“He hurt his hands in the bushes searching for the dog. Bloodied his uniform badly.”
“Really,” he remarked, leaning forward. His dark gaze glittered with interest. “Did you see the wound?”
“No, he wore gloves.”
His eyes narrowed, and he appeared thoughtful.
“What is so remarkable about Mr. Glen’s injury?” she asked. Images of a small bloodied dog flashed in her mind. “Do you think that Lancelot was hurt in the same manner and that the kidnappers are simply trying to take advantage? That they do not have Lancelot at all?”
“We have combed the area thoroughly and would have found Lancelot even if he could not come to us. There was no blood found. Which makes me believe that Lancelot was taken.”
“And is alive?”
“Yes.”
She breathed a sigh of relief.
After a moment, he stood, his energies apparently restored. “I must go.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I want to check on a thing or two.”
“About Lancelot?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, Lillian, about Lancelot.”
She jumped up. “I knew that you wouldn’t give up!”
“I will endeavor to satisfy your confidence in me.” His tone was teasing.
“All you needed was a moment’s rest and some fortification.”
“Sincerely, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such faith, but I will not let you down.”
“You mean the queen.”
“Her too.”
She beamed, feeling an unexpected rush of pride. “What changed your mind?”
“You reminded me that one person can make a difference.”
Stepping around the table, he gripped her shoulders, pulled her close and set his smooth lips to hers. She was so shocked that she just stood still as his soft mouth pressed firmly against hers. Slowly her lids lowered and she drifted into the kiss, feeling like a willow swaying in a warm breeze.
He tasted of wine and veal, and the faint scent of almond enveloped her. He was solid as an oak, and she needed that support, for her knees had turned to jelly and she knew that if he released her, she would fall. But she knew without doubt that he would not let her tumble. So she melted into him, loving his mouth with a tenderness that bespoke her burgeoning feelings for this remarkable man.
Lifting his head, he murmured, “I promised myself that I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?” she whispered, her eyes hooded, her mouth lush with his kiss. This woman moved him, he realized. She was different from any other woman he had known. With those sparkling azure eyes and the melodic voice that chimed in his soul. She was like a cloud of cream and lace in her night rail, causing a man to imagine the curves being hugged by that silkily thin fabric. He yearned to rake his hands through her strawberry blond hair, disrupting her coiffure of curls and making her sigh with pleasure. But he had sworn to protect her, not exploit her.
“Give in to temptation,” he murmured as he pulled away, keeping his hands cupped on those silky shoulders.
“Where’s the harm?”
“I swore to keep my hands off you, Lillian. It’s not right that I take advantage.”
“What if I want you to?” Her voice was husky, and he could see the desire pooling in her blue gaze.
It took every ounce of his self-control to stop him from taking her right then and there. In Windsor, no less. “Now you might want to, but how will you come to feel after?” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he murmured, “You might come to regret it, and that I could not endure.”
Leaning into his broad chest, she sighed. “I wish you were a bit less honorable, Nicholas Redford. But I suppose it’s like asking a leopard to change his spots.”
“If only I could be the man that you see me to be.”
Pushing him away, she chided, “Oh, go off and find Lancelot. Catch the wretched bastards, Nick, and give Colonel Thompson cause to regret ever coming to Windsor. Show him what you are made of.”
His face softened. “Thank you, Lillian.”
“For what?”
“For sending me back out there.” Releasing her, he turned and quietly left the room.
Chapter 21
As the first rays of dawn filtered through the bedroom window, Lillian decided that she could wait no longer; she would venture out of her room and find out what was happening. She was anxious about what Nick was “checking on” and certain that if Lancelot was to be found, Nick was the man to do it. She splashed cold water on her face and performed her ministrations, apprehension making her movements quick but jerky. Dear Lord, she prayed, let this turn out well.
As she walked down the plush, red-and-gold carpeted corridor, she was not surprised to see many servants bustling about and to hear the quiet hum of a waking household. A sense of urgency filled the air, and Lillian felt it thrumming through her, propelling her toward Hogan’s office.
She knocked lightly on the door.
“Come,” he called, not looking up from the papers scattered on his desktop. He dipped his quill, blotted it and scribbled. Lillian slipped into the large chamber and waited a few feet before his great brown desk.
Hogan’s hunter green coat was clean and pressed, and his shirt ruffles were perfectly folded. But his gray hair was mussed over his ears, and dark shadows banked his eyes. The creases flanking his lips seemed more delineated than the day before, as if they were now set in a permanent frown.
Dropping his quill, he looked up, surprised. He stood. “Good morning, Lady Janus. I trust your accommodations were acceptable?”
“Wonderful, sir. I just could not dally in my rooms knowing that Lancelot and his captors are still out there. Pray tell me, is there any news?”
He inhaled a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising and then dropping. “We will pay the ransom today, my lady. And we hope that then Lancelot will be returned to Her Majesty.”
“You doubt that they will keep their word?”
“Once they have the money, they have no incentive to return the dog. I fear that they will grab their booty and take off to evade capture.”
“Won’t Colonel Thompson be able to catch them when they come to retrieve the money?”
His steely eyes narrowed, and she realized that she had just slipped about speaking with Nick during the night. She held her breath, wondering how he would deal with this indiscretion.
After a ten
se moment, he seemed to let it pass. “I do not believe that Thompson appreciates the difficulty in tracking anyone over such a spread of water.”
“Then let Mr. Redford have a go at it, sir.”
“You and Mr. Redford will be leaving this morning. His services are no longer required.”
“But Lancelot has not been found. Why send off one of your best men?”
“I did Dunn a favor by giving Nick this job. You couldn’t say no to the man once he had gotten his teeth sunk into an idea. But I never really thought that it would come to anything.”
“But it was not charity. It was to the queen’s benefit as well. And here you have the perfect opportunity to utilize Redford’s talents.”
He raised his hand, declaring, “Enough, Lady Janus. My decision is made.”
Her spirits and her shoulders drooped. “Then we have failed.”
“We all have.”
“Hogan, I need your help!” Nick announced, charging into the room. He moved with alacrity, the exhaustion seemingly gone from his person. His clothing was still wrinkled and his hair was a bedraggled mess, but his cocoa-brown eyes flashed and his handsome features were fixed with determination. Lillian’s heart thrilled; Nick was on the hunt and he was magnificent.
He bowed curtly to Lillian. “Good morning, my lady.”
She nodded, her heart doing the special dance that it reserved especially for him.
Hogan scowled. “You have been dismissed, Mr. Redford. There is no more opportunity to change my mind. I have a small portion for you, but otherwise—”
“I don’t care about the bloody fee, Hogan. I think I have a way to get Lancelot back.”
Hogan’s bushy brows knotted. “This is not some sort of weak attempt at saving your skin?”
“Do you want him back or not?” Nick stood stock-still, waiting. Lillian held her breath. She knew that tone; Nick thought he had the answer.
Hogan’s face hardened, as if on the cusp of a negative decision.
“Mr. Hogan, please.” Lillian stepped forward. “Please give him a chance. There’s a reason Dunn recommended Mr. Redford especially for the job. Redford often sees what we fail to. Trust him.”
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