“Tread lightly. I am in no mood to be trifled with.” If he had a bit of sense about him, he would leave her to her sullenness and save himself. She eased her hand out of his and curled deeper into her chair, tucking in for a good pout. Tomorrow, she would strive to be a better person. Today, she was what she was. “Now, if you will excuse me, I intend to sit here and fume until time to bid Maman farewell.”
“The post just came. Do you not wish to go through it? There are two letters, one from your Frannie, I believe. There is also a smattering of invitations. It appears your refusal to return to mourning dress after our ride in the park has been not only noticed but accepted—oddly enough.”
“We are somewhat of an enigma with those of theton, what with most of our time spent in Calais. Since none of them evermetmy dearly departed brother, it appears that poor, fictitious Solomon and his untimely passing have been easily forgotten.”
“Or the gossips simply wish to confirm the rumors they have heard.”
She was in no humor to deal with the politics of theton, nor to become their latest source of amusement. As far as she was concerned, the invitations would be ignored. “Who was the other letter from?” She cracked her fingers, wishing she could make her problems pop as easily as she did her knuckles.
“The other letter?”
“You mentioned two letters. One from Frannie and the other from…?” She arched a brow, beginning to suspect he had lied to coax her out of her doldrums.
He shook his head, appearing somewhat perplexed. “I am not sure.”
A suspicion, an exciting premonition, pushed her up from the chair. “How could you possibly ignore a letter when we haven’t heard from our blackmailer in so long?”
“Because I had hoped, after all this time with no sinister activity, that our blackmailer’s health and wellbeing had ended with the self-poisoning of Horton Bainery.”
She hurried to the door, then halted when she realized he still sat on the stool beside her chair. “Well, come on, then. Let’s have a look at that letter, shall we?”
He did not appear as excited as she was, but that could not be helped.
“I cannot believe you hope the blackmailer has contacted you again.”
His tone struck her as slightly scolding, but she ignored it. “I am not hopeful…exactly.” Well, she was a bit, but it would sound somewhat mindless to admit it. Something deep inside her, whether it was instinct, womanly intuition, or simply afeeling, told her the game was not over—not with so many questions yet to be answered. Gathering her skirts in both hands, she rushed up the short flight of stairs and down the hall to the table that always held the mail. The silver tray was empty, prompting her to turn and glare at Nash.
“In the library,” he said tersely while pointing at the door. “Calm down, my swan. Everything is on your desk.”
She wasted no time in making her way to it and the pile of correspondence neatly stacked in front of her inkwell holder. The letter from Frannie was on top. Then what appeared to be several invitations, and then the missive she sought. An exciting sense of satisfaction settled across her as she tapped the neatly scribed postage amount in one corner. “Two shillings and fourpence. Fifty miles. Just like the others.”
“Bloody hell,” he growled. He snatched the letter out of her hands and ripped it open. The longer he stared down at the page,his gaze racing back and forth across the few lines, the ruddier his face became. With a hard shake of his head, he bared his teeth and handed it back to her. “Your mother must not leave here under any circumstances.”
Her satisfaction curdled into a lump of dread and plummeted to the pit of her stomach. Struggling to keep her hands from shaking, she smoothed out the folded paper and read:
The old one dies in the channel and the young one dies in the park. I shall let the queen rot in Kew. No money or thanks necessary. Liars and deceivers dead is reward enough.
“Quite to the point, isn’t it?” She swallowed hard, carefully re-folded the letter, and handed it back to him. “I am a fool and living proof of Aesop’s warning to be careful what you wish for.” How could she have hoped for more contact from that maniacal cove? She slowly lowered herself into the chair behind her desk, for once at a complete loss for words or what to do.
Nash leaned across the desk and propped his hands on either side of the paper. “I will send word to Her Majesty to double her guard at Kew. Your mother will not leave here even if I have to lock her in her rooms.” He gently cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. “And you, my precious one, will not go near any park in London or anywhere outside of this house without me or a proper guard at your side—understood?”
“Yes.” For the first time in her life, she would not be unreasonably stubborn about her independence. She would listen and pray that they caught the blackguard before he succeeded at any of his attempts. “I am so sick of living on tenterhooks, though. How are we going to stop this devil?”
“Merritt and I will call in a few favors. Several of those we served with in the army will be more than happy to help. Of that, I have no doubt.” A thoughtful bitterness seemed to settleacross him. “You are right about that adage, though.Be careful what you wish for.I once wanted to return to serving my king and country in the army, and you wanted the blackmailer to make himself known to us once again. It appears we both got our wishes.” He caressed her cheek and gave her a tender kiss. “Once this is all over, we shall make ourselves content with enjoying a quiet life here in London. Yes?”
“Most definitely.” She had always wanted love and the joy and contentment Celia and Frannie had found. Now she had it, and that murderous fiend was trying to take it away from her. She tightened her hands into fists and popped each knuckle, growing angrier by the moment. “No one is going to take away what I have wanted since I first saw you flirt with Lady Withrington and ignore me. I will not allow that devil to destroy us.” She might sound bold, brazen, or perhaps even hoydenish, but she didn’t care. “I am going to kill him before he kills me or harms someone I love.”
Nash pulled her up into his arms and held her. “Let me do the protecting. It is not only my duty but my desire, and I promise you, Merritt feels the same. Did you not tell me you had maps in your workroom tracking the postal points of each letter?”
“Yes. In the map cabinet behind the desk.” She eased out of his embrace and almost cringed while eyeing the door. “Maman is already angry with me. I pray she sees sense when I tell her and doesn’t think this is some ploy to keep her here.”
“I shall tell her.”
“I am so sorry,” she whispered. She was so ashamed of her petulance, selfishness, and slowness in forgiving him for the silly hurts of their youth.
He frowned at her, appearing confused. “For what are you apologizing?”
“The queen sacrificed your life for Maman and me. It is so unfair.”
