Their late lunch at Indigo Jones on Garrick Street in Convent Gardens was glorious. The restaurant was old brick and stained glass, and the food was delicious. Afterward they walked the narrow streets. The sun broke through the overcast, warming the day and brightening their already sunny moods.
“Convent Garden used to be the fruit and vegetable market for London,” Clay said as they wandered in and out of a dozen tiny boutiques. When Ellie held up an expensive gray silk, hand-painted scarf, Clay bought it for her.
“I want you to have something to remember the day,” he said with a smile that touched her heart. She bought him an old, leather-bound volume of Shakespeare’s sonnets, which, though inexpensive, he accepted as if it were the crown jewels.
While Clay excused himself to use the phone, Ellie discovered a quaint little shop that carried French lingerie. On a whim, she bought a very sheer and expensive white lace teddy she’d seen in the window, and a pair of lace-topped, thigh-high stockings.
Back on the street, she flushed just carrying the shopping bag.
From Convent Gardens, Clay took her to the Tower of London. Ellie was awestruck by its enormity, the timeless feel of the place, even before she went inside.
“The oldest part of the Tower was built around ten seventy-eight by William the Conqueror,” Clay said. “It’s been a fortress and a prison. Of course, it’s most famous for its executions.”
Ellie shivered. “Yes. Thomas Cromwell, Anne Boleyn, Sir Thomas More.”
“And dozens of others. The last executions took place in World War II.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
Clay nodded. “Nazi spies.”
They walked along a stone corridor that crossed a grassy flat that was once a moat and entered the damp, thick-walled interior. The stones felt rough and cold against her palm. Clay led her through room after room filled with ancient weaponry.
“I didn’t know there were this many lances left in the world,” Ellie said. She studied the terrifying accumulation of axes, hatchets, bows and arrows, spiked clubs, and swords of every lethal shape and size. “It makes me sad to think how much death and destruction all this has wrought over the centuries.”
“I guess it’s just human nature for people to kill each other.”
“I suppose. But wouldn’t it be nice if mankind learned from the past and stopped?”
“I wish they’d stopped before Vietnam. If they had, John would still be alive.”
Ellie squeezed Clay’s hand.
They walked in silence through the oppressive, dank, gray stone rooms, but talk of fighting had turned the conversation in a different direction.
“This may sound crazy, Clay, but I’ve been thinking about what happened on the plane and that man who attacked me. You don’t suppose it’s some kind of plot? I mean something to do with the Olympics and international politics, or terrorism, or something?”
“It sounds far-fetched, but it doesn’t sound crazy. In fact, I’ve been wondering if it could be something like that. Nobody else seems too concerned. I’ve been looking for those security people Jake mentioned, but the only one I’ve seen is the man he hired to watch the horses. Either they’re very good at what they do, or Jake’s telling just us that to keep us from worrying.”
“Jake wouldn’t do that,” Ellie defended.
Clay’s shoulders tightened. “You think a great deal of him, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Enough to sleep with him?”
Anger slipped through her. “We’re friends. Jake’s been good to me. He’s never been anything but a gentleman. And I resent your implying anything else.”
Clay’s shoulders relaxed. “Take it easy. So I’m a little jealous.” He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss ovee her lips. “To tell you the truth, it’s a new experience. Forgive me?”
How could she not when he looked so sincere? “I swear you are the most incorrigible man I’ve ever met.” But her anger had faded.
Clay smiled down at her. “I promise to reform at least for the rest of the day.” He linked her arm through his and they walked out into the sunshine.
“Believe it or not, I think a lot of Jake, too,” he said later. “I just hope he isn’t involved in something he can’t handle.”
“If he is, we’ll just have to help him handle it.”
