The woman holding the bottle eyed him with suspicion.“It’s legal.I have consent.”
“Of course.”
“What are you doing?”Apollo asked, hovering behind Temple and hiding his face from the women.
“Making you useful.Now smile and do as I say.”
“Do what?”
The guards were almost on them now, scowling.
The ladies tried to sidle away, but Temple followed them.He must act now.“I do apologize, ladies.”He plucked the bottle from their fingers.
“What the hell are you doing, man?”Apollo hissed.
“Making you a few friends.Close friends.”
Apollo’s gaze flew from the bottle in Temple’s hand to the guards moving their way.His brows rose in understanding.“No.”
“You’re following me about because you feel guilty.”
“Probably, but not enough for this.”
“How long do you think the bump lasted on the back of Diana’s head, the bruising, the headaches?”Temple snarled.
“Fuck.”
“Take the damn bottle.”Temple thrust it into Apollo’s hand.
Apollo grumbled but closed his fingers around it.“Get the hell out of here, then.”He marched up to the guards, pulled the cork out of the bottle, and splashed the contents first in one guard’s face and then the other’s.
They rubbed the potion out of their eyes.And licked it off their lips.When their vision was clear once more, it locked onto Apollo.
Who grinned, sly and cunning.“Hello, chaps, can I buy you a drink?”
The guards’ mouths bloomed into wide smiles.
“You’re the fella who was stripped of a title,” one said.
“Cuzza that lady,” the other added.“The alchemist’s tricky wife.”
“One and the same.”Apollo bowed low.“Now listen here, you men have been working hard.How about I treat you to some libations.”He hung his arms around the other men’s shoulders and led them down the street.They didn’t even look up once to see where Temple was.Too damn easy.
Except for the women currently smacking Temple’s back with their reticules.They cursed at him, calling for the constable.
“Here!”Temple shoved a wad of banknotes at them.“Take these.”Then he dove for the shop door.No idea how much time he had.Temple made a quick line toward Lady Guinevere’s study, throwing the door open without knocking.
She looked up, startled, from papers scattered across her desk.The raven hopped on its perch.
“Lord Knightly?”
Mr.Bran appeared from behind the door, hands creeping under the edges of his jacket toward weapons likely hidden there.
“Did you receive my letter?”Temple demanded.He had to peer around Bran because the large man wouldn’t let him farther into the room, but Temple sure as hell wasn’t wasting this opportunity with retreat.
“Oh do sit, Bran,” Lady Guinevere said.“He’s not going to hurt me.He has no manners, barging in like that, but he is rather desperate if the papers are true.”She tilted her head to the side and slid the edge of a piece of paper through her fingers.“Are they true?”
“Depends on which part you’re talking about.”Temple closed the door behind him as Bran stepped aside.
