Page 47 of What A Rogue Wants (Lords Of Deception #1)

Twenty-Nine

Grey picked up the paper and walked to the fireplace. He threw it into the flames, watching as it curled inward, flames blackening the paper into ash. It was gone, but what he had to do lingered heavy in his mind. He turned his ring, examining his thoughts.

Damn, Madelaine. He hated her, yet he still loved her.

He could slightly understand if it was only a matter of her compulsion to help her father if he was attempting to protect England, but he couldn’t understand her helping her father or anyone else to kill another spy…

Had she known of that? Would she continue her father’s plan—whatever the hell it was—if Grey kept her part secret?

Even now, was she plotting a way to escape and meet up with the man who had tried to kill him in the woods?

“Grey?” The king’s voice startled him out of his musings.

He swung around and tensed at the sight of Gravenhurst standing by the king’s side, the king’s pallor shockingly white. Grey clenched his jaw. He couldn’t afford to become so distracted by Madelaine that he didn’t notice when someone entered a room, or that the king needed him.

“Ring for my doctor,” the king commanded.

Gravenhurst immediately rang the bell on the table by the king’s chair and within seconds, the king’s physician swept into the room. “My lord?”

“I feel dizzy.” The king’s voice rasped through the room.

The physician gestured to Gravenhurst. “Fetch the pages. Your Majesty, the bloodletting is making you dizzy. You need broth and rest.”

Two pages rushed into the room and took the king by either arm to lead him toward the door. The king turned at the threshold and looked at Grey and Gravenhurst. “I leave matters in your capable hands for now. Keep me updated.”

Grey bowed and when the door shut, he spoke. “Did you find Edward?”

Gravenhurst shook his head, his face paling until the scar on his forehead stood out like a beacon. “What’s wrong?” Grey demanded, fear making his tone sharper and louder than he’d intended.

Gravenhurst slid a hand into the pouch at his side and withdrew a soiled, crumpled piece of paper.

Gravenhurst unfolded the note. Fear inched along Grey’s skin.

The missive was the size they used to send messages between each other by carrier pigeons.

Gravenhurst looked up, his eyes burning bright.

“I never made it to your home. I stopped halfway to water the horses and check in with one of our contacts who maintains a pigeon house for us. A bird had just arrived with this note and a small package.”

Grey took the note from Gravenhurst and scanned the scrawl. Lords Grey and Gravenhurst, I have Ashford. I’ll trade his life for that of the lovely Lady Madelaine. Meet me on the 8 th at the Dockside Warehouse. Come alone or Ashford dies .

Today was the eighth. Grey frowned, trying to order his thoughts. “How do we know whoever this is, really has Edward?” There was much more he cared to ask, but all he could focus on right now was that one question. Later, he’d ask questions with his pistol pointed at the person he was questioning.

Gravenhurst thrust a ring toward Grey. Even before looking at the word “allegiance” engraved on the inside, he knew it was Edward’s. Ice thickened his blood as he stormed toward the door Madelaine was sitting behind. He plowed through the entrance, a loud bang announcing his arrival.

She scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with fear.

Gripping her by the arms, Grey wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled in her head.

Instead, he forced himself to release her, wincing at the sight of her reddened flesh where he’d held her too tightly.

Blood roared in his ears as he tried to find a calm he didn’t feel.

How could she be part of this folly? Had he been so wrong about her?

Could she really be plotting to kill the king’s spies?

All the evidence suggested so. His jaw ticked uncontrollably, until he had to press a finger against the tick to try to stop it.

He stood on legs that felt shamefully weak, unable to look away from her. Anger curdled in his belly. He moved a hand toward her, and she flinched away then spoke in a rush of words. “Grey, I’m sorry. I know how upset you must be.”

“You cannot begin to fathom.” He was drowning in her amber eyes. “I’m looking at you, but I don’t know you. And I realize now I never did.” Just like he’d never known his father. There was too much pain inside of him. He had to once again find a way to convince himself he needed no one.

Madelaine struggled to stay awake, but the dark night and the clopping of the horse’s hooves worked as a sleeping draft on her exhausted body.

She felt herself slumping forward, too tired to hold herself upright any longer.

Her head rested against Gravenhurst’s back, her foggy mind cruelly reminding her that Grey hated her so much he couldn’t even bring himself to touch her.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and drifted.

A crack of thunder in the sky awoke her sometime later.

She sat up and stretched her aching muscles, blinking at the sight of large ships around her.

Water clapped rhythmically against the side of the docks as the horses walked down the cobblestone road and a ship’s horn blew from somewhere on the sea.

“Why are we at the docks?” she demanded, not that she was in any rush to join her father in the tower.

She didn’t expect Grey to answer. He’d not spoken to her since asking who she was. Her heart ached at the memory of his words. “Lord Gravenhurst, are you now ignoring me as well?”

He pulled up on the reins and stopped the horse. Grey came to a halt beside them so that he faced her. “We’re here to meet your friend. He wants you, in exchange for my brother’s life, and I intend to deliver you.”

“What—?” she choked out in astonishment.

Grey’s lips curled back over his teeth. “As if you weren’t expecting something like this. Don’t worry, sweet Madelaine. I’ll hunt the two of you down once my brother is secure, and bring you and your accomplice back to the tower to join your father in death.”

Her belly twisted into knots of dread. “I don’t know this man. I don’t have an accomplice, and if you deliver me to whoever this is, you need not bother to come looking for me. I’m certain I’ll be dead.”

“Stop lying.” Grey’s voice was flat, as if he couldn’t be bothered with what she’d just said.

Something in Madelaine snapped. She shoved back from Gravenhurst, threw her leg over the horse and jumped.

She was running the second her feet hit ground.

Maybe before. Behind her, shouts commenced followed by the urgent pounding of feet against the stones.

She didn’t know where she was going, but she’d not allow Grey to deliver her to a lunatic.

Her breathing came hard as fear and the blood pumping through her veins drove her around the corner of the main street and into an alley.

Up ahead, music poured into the alley from an open door and the raucous voices of sailors almost made her cry. If she could make it into that tavern maybe she could lose Grey. And then what? She didn’t know. But what choice did she have?

“Madelaine!” Grey roared as she dodged through the open door of the tavern and stopped short at the sea of faces pressed into the small room.

This was perfect! She maneuvered around small tables crowded with drunken men while frantically searching for another way out.

Tankards of ale clanked against tables to mix with the rumble of voices.

“Look, mates, an angel’s floatin’ by,” a deep voice slurred before a hand grabbed her bottom and squeezed.

With a yelp, she tried to bat the man’s hand away, but he only squeezed harder.

A chorus of raucous laughter erupted from the table, and a new fear, a fear of unspeakable horrors crawled up her flesh.

She scanned the faces around the table, her heart hammering painfully and her gaze landed on the only man not smiling.

He was dressed as every other man here, but his hair, pale like the moon, was secured neatly back at the nape of his neck.

His cheekbones were high, his nose patrician, and his full lips pressed together distastefully.

He was her best hope. Pleading with her eyes, she prayed he would help her.

His fist slammed into the face of the man groping her, the man’s hand dropping with a howl as he fell out of his chair gripping his nose.

Madelaine squeezed her eyes to make sure she’d not imagined things.

She’d not seen the blond man move until he’d thrown the punch.

The table grew silent, but the noise continued around them.

She stiffened as her savior rose and towered over her. He placed an arm around Madelaine’s waist while glowering at the men around the table. “Don’t any of the rotted lot of you have sisters back home?”

Madelaine blinked in surprise at the man’s impeccable, lordly accent.

He glanced down at her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She darted a gaze toward the door. “No, but you could tell me if there’s another way out of here.”

The man pointed toward the back of the tavern. “Leads into an alley that will take you straight to the main road.”

She nearly fainted with relief, started to thank him, then saw the gleam of a knife blade on the table. That was just what she needed if she should come face to face with any more ruffians. Or if she had to threaten Grey to escape him. “Is that your knife?”

“It is now.” He flashed a smile. “I won it in a game of cards.”

She tugged at the large ruby ring on her finger, the only jewelry she wore. “I’ll trade you this ring for that knife.”

The man eyed the ring for a moment then grabbed the knife and discretely handed it to her hilt first. “Seems like a good trade.” He leaned in close. “You better sheath it in front of this lot. They get jumpy when they see a woman with a weapon.”

She slipped the knife into her boot and let her skirts drop. “Thank you.” As she started to move away, he grabbed her arm, her heart lurching.

“Do you need help?”

Expelling a sigh of relief, she shook her head and forced a smile she didn’t feel. She’d not drag one more person into this mess. Besides, she didn’t know this man. “I just need to go.” She stared pointedly at her arm.

Once released, she wound through the crowd and made her way to the back door.

Her heart thumped, all her nerves tingling.

When the door easily opened, she stepped into the dark night and pressed a trembling hand to her forehead.

She glanced left to right and saw no one.

She needed to flee right now and get as far away from the docks as possible.

Once she was hidden, she would figure out the rest.

Quickening her steps, she ran toward the street that led to the main road and raced around the corner.

She needed to find a horse or carriage to steal.

Let them add theft to her other crimes. Did it really matter?

Laughing bitterly, she swiped at the tears leaking out of her eyes then stopped to pull out her weapon.

As she bent to retrieve her dagger, an arm swooped around her waist jerking her off her feet.

The unmistakable cold, hard metal of a pistol pressed into her forehead. “Got you.”