The footman’s expression turned pinched. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but Lady Tansy has left the palace. I made some inquiries, and I was told a carriage was called for her by His Royal Highness, Prince Ferdinando. Her cases were loaded into it, and she left.”
Maxim went numb.
Gone, indeed. But no, it couldn’t be. Just this morning, she had been in his arms, in his bed. She’d told him she loved him. Why would she leave him without word, slipping away no better than a thief? He couldn’t believe it of her.
“All her cases?” he asked hoarsely.
“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty,” the footman answered, his tone laced with regret.
She was leaving him. Tansy was leaving him.
It was true. There was no other explanation. His mind whirled, his gut clenching, his heart seizing as if gripped by a merciless fist. And Nando had called for the carriage.
Damn him. Nando was behind this. He was going to throttle his brother. No, that was far too merciful. He was going to send him to the fucking dungeons.
“Do you know where Prince Ferdinando is?” he asked tightly.
“I believe His Royal Highness is in his rooms, Your Majesty,” the footman said timidly.
Maxim bit out his thanks before rushing past the footman, intent upon finding his brother and finding out what the hell was happening and where Tansy had gone. His long-legged strides ate up the distance easily. Through the marble hall, down a flight of stairs, until he reached Nando’s door.
Stifling the urge to roar, he pummeled the door with his fist.Bang, bang, bang.“Nando, open the damned door.”
“I’m indisposed at the moment,” his brother called from within. “Come back later, if you please.”
Maxim tried the latch. The door swung open, and he stalked inside, slamming it at his back. Nando was in a state of half dress, his valet stilling in the act of applying some manner of pomade to his annoyingly perfect blond curls.
“Your Majesty,” the valet greeted, sweeping into a courtly bow.
But Maxim scarcely noticed him. He was intent upon his brother’s guilty face.
“Where is she?” he growled.
“Brother, as you can see, I’m in the midst of dressing,” Nando said calmly. “Can you not return later?”
“No, I can’t,” he snarled, not even bothering with the pretense of manners.
He didn’t care if they had a wide-eyed audience. All he cared about was finding Tansy and bringing her back to him, where she belonged.
Nando sighed deeply, as if he’d just been interrupted whilst performing a task of the utmost importance instead of having his valet dress his hair. “Thank you, Leonardo. That will be all for now. His Majesty wishes to speak with me alone.”
“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” With another deferential bow, the valet took his hasty leave of the chamber.
Maxim stalked the rest of the way across the room when he had gone, grasping a fistful of his brother’s waistcoat. “Where. Is. She?” he demanded through gritted teeth.
“If you’re speaking of the widowed Countess of Leavarra, I haven’t seen her since this morning when we parted at dawn,” Nando drawled.
“You know who I’m speaking of.” He gave his brother a shake. “Tansy, you bastard. What have you done?”
Nando took a step back, disengaging with him and smoothing a hand down his shirtfront. “I’ve done what she asked of me.”
“She came to you for help?” This in itself felt like a betrayal of the worst sort. “I don’t believe you. Why would she come to you instead of me?”
“Because she didn’t want you to stop her.”
Denial soared through him. “Where has she gone? If she didn’t wish to live here in the palace, she only needed to say the words. I would give her anything. I’ll give her ten houses if it pleases her.”
“She doesn’t want ten houses, Maxim,” Nando said quietly. “She wants you, but she can’t have you.”
