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The storm had come to me.
Daisy’s mouth flattened, and she kept her voice low. “We need to get you out of here. Thank God you had your mask and that wig on.”
I touched my face, relief spiralling outwards. I had my hair covered and a mask so I didn’t breathe in dust. With any luck, it might have been a good enough disguise. Barrington hadn’t recognised me. Had he?
I listened hard.
“Ben. You didn’t answer my calls. You gave me no choice but to come here.”
“I replied and told you exactly what you needed to know,” Ben retorted.
“Nowhere near enough. I need to see your man, Raphael. Where is he?”
“I told ye. He’s off on another job. What could you possibly want him for? He’s not hiding a princess on his person.”
His tone held incredulity, but I couldn’t smile.
Daisy’s hand found mine, and she led me down through the garage, squeezing between a clapped-out car and yet another stack of boxes that lined the walls.
Barrington yelled, “Well, where the fuck is she? She’s supposed to be at her father’s house, but I’ve already been there today. They said she wasn’t to be disturbed, yet no one’s seen her which tells me it’s a lie. There’s not been one photo of her online in days, and her family is threatening to cancel every contract I have with them. You know what that will do to my business. Tell me she isn’t shacked up with your boy because fuck knows where else she could be.”
A deadly pause followed. I’d only known Ben for a matter of days but I’d got the measure of the man. He was stoic and calm, but he defended his team to the hilt.
“I don’t like being shouted down. I especially don’t like a demand being made of a trusted member of my team. Raphael isn’t here. He’s not even in the country. He’s been dispatched on another job, and I can guarantee you,” he spoke over an arguing Barrington, “that the princess you lost is not with him. Nor is she at Castle Braithar which is where he’s been living. I would know. Can I make myself clearer?”
At the back of the garage, Daisy reached for the handle of the garden door. It creaked, and she shivered then inched it open even slower, dragging it against a pile of leaves. I cringed at the sounds, expecting footsteps at any moment. A hand grasping my shoulder and an order for me to return to England.
None came. We made it outside, and Daisy closed the door so I could stand against it. The overtones of the argument made it to us, though the words were indistinct, and Valentine strode up the garden, a frown darkening his brow as the rain did the same to his shirt.
Daisy beckoned him over, gesturing for him to be quiet. “We need to get Alex out of here. Right now.”
His gaze darted from the unseen incomer to me. I set down the oil paints and canvas.
“My car. We’ll hide ye inside, but to be convincing when we leave, I’ll need to make it look like I’m naw running.”
He gestured to his vehicle which was fifteen feet away at the side of the house. It was in plain sight of the front where Barrington could see.
A grin spread over Valentine’s face, and he quirked an eyebrow. “Luckily, I’m shit hot at subterfuge. Daisy, go open the boot and make a fuss about some missing item. Something you badly need for work today. In the meantime, I’ll get Mia to comedown.” He came back to me. “Don’t worry, princess. No one’s taking ye away from your prince today.”
Minutes later, Daisy and Mia were deep in a heated, fake argument at the back of Valentine’s car, the huge bodyguard wading in to solve the problem.
“Don’t sweat. I’ll go get it. Not like I’ve got anything better to do,” he griped.
At the other side of the vehicle, I snuck into the passenger-side door, left open by Mia on their pretend hunt. I’d sprinted to the end of the garden then crept back up along the side of a hedgerow, the long grass soaking my shoes. Not that I cared. I only wanted to get away.
I curled into the footwell and made myself small. Still shouting, Valentine dropped heavily into the driver’s seat and tossed his jacket onto me. With his window open, he cruised past Ben and Barrington.
“Need to head out for five minutes. Won’t be long,” Valentine called out.
“Do what ye need to do,” Ben snapped back.
“Who’s this? What’s your name?” Barrington challenged.
Valentine stopped the car. I ceased breathing and held as still as I possibly could, praying that the jacket covered me.
Valentine’s reply held nothing but amusement. “Val Graham. Ben’s brother. What can I do you for?”
Barrington made a sound of disgust. “Nothing,” he muttered.