Oliver ignored him in favor of watching the queen exit her carriage and be escorted to the entrance built underneath the stands surrounding the Parade Ring. It would lead to the Royal Enclosure proper and the rest of the racing facility, where the royal family would mingle with those in the restricted areas.
“Losing LOS,” Abigail said over comms. “Following.”
That was Oliver’s cue to move over to the Royal Enclosure on the grandstand side closer to the track. He couldn’t rush over there, because nobody rushed at Ascot. Leaving without Rupert noticing was impossible, and the veiled taunts that followed in his wake made Oliver want to punch the other man.
“You still aren’t worth betting on,” Rupert said to Oliver’s back, eliciting laughs from his group of hangers-on.
Oliver tried not to hunch his shoulders, but it was difficult. He ignored the few glances that strayed his way, making sure to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Ascot was no place for a brawl, especially not in the Royal Enclosure. Oliver made his way up the stairs toward the main grandstand building, intending to get lost in the crowd. Rupert must’ve gained skill in finding people in a crowd from his years on the club circuit. Oliver hadn’t gone far before Rupert’s voice drifted through the air, never fading.
Oliver spared a glance over his shoulder as casually as he could, catching sight of Rupert and his group of friends following after him. “Switching field position.”
“Where are you, Raven?” Liam asked.
“Busy.”
“You can’t be too busy for me,” Rupert said from behind him. “It’s rude to run away. We were having a conversation.”
“You were talking. I wasn’t listening,” Oliver replied.
“That’s no way to treat your betters.”
“Once again, you arenotmy better. If you need to measure your worth against others, then you’re not worth my time.”
The hand that wrapped around his upper arm pulled Oliver to a hard stop. He resisted the urge to drive his elbow into Rupert’s stomach, knowing that wasn’t a scene he could afford. Rupert had a friendly smile on his face, but the look in his eyes was anything but nice when Oliver turned around to face him.
“You were never worth any of my time; it’s just interesting that you think you belong here,” Rupert said.
“Your attempts at policing the Royal Enclosure aren’t needed.”
Rupert let him go and brushed his hand over Oliver’s shoulder, as if he needed help cleaning up. “Just looking out for everyone else by saving them from your ludicrous attempts at small talk.”
“In my experience, chatting with Oliver is always worth my time,” Liam said from behind Oliver.
Oliver had been so focused on Rupert that he hadn’t heard or sensed Liam come up behind him in the crowd. The hand that settled against his lower back made Oliver stiffen, but he didn’t immediately step away.
“Liam.” Rupert’s smile froze on his face. “Since when do you spend time with Oliver?”
Liam moved to stand close to Oliver, his body a line of utterly distracting heat. “When wouldn’t I? We get invited to the same parties. I just miss most of them due to prior commitments. That doesn’t mean he and I don’t see each other.”
“Right. Commitments,” Rupert said, rallying from his momentary confusion. “Those must be the reason it’s been months since we’ve seen each other.”
“It’s been longer than that. I’ve been busy,” Liam replied with a coolness to his voice that made Oliver want to frown.
“Yes, so I’ve seen in the news. I had been hoping to chat with you about everything that’s gone on, but you haven’t been out as much. We should get together this week.”
“We have nothing to chat about.”
Liam’s dismissal of the offer caused the smile on Rupert’s face to fade. Oliver had always thought Liam and Rupert were still close, but Liam’s attitude seemed to indicate there wasn’t any closeness, at least, not on Liam’s side. Rupert appeared thrown by Liam’s refusal to be friendly, so he tried another tactic that Oliver was familiar with from their teenage years. Social humiliation had always been Rupert’s go-to at Eton.
“Oliver and I were just catching up. Remember that old bet we made?”
Before Oliver could turn around and leave to continue with his surveillance job, Liam’s fingers tightened around the fabric of his suit jacket, anchoring him in place. “That’s in the past, Rupert. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t speak of it here or anywhere else. If I find out you have, we’re going to have words that you won’t like.”
The cold anger in Liam’s voice made Rupert take a half step back, as if he’d been punched. His confusion was obvious for anyone to see, and Oliver didn’t know what to think about Liam coming to his defense.
“And people say I have murder-eyes,” a new voice said. “Like Jamie always tells me, Liam. No killing the idiots in the world just because they’re stupid.”
Oliver watched as Kyle Callahan slipped out of the crowd to come stand beside Liam, the top hat he wore shading his eyes from the overhead lights. It couldn’t hide the sniper focus in his gaze that made Rupert eye him with a wariness Oliver could understand. He’d read a dossier on Kyle after the attack on Washington, D.C. Oliver knew enough about the former Strike Force and MDF operative to know Kyle never missed when it mattered.
