Moments later they pulled to a stop in front of his home, and he hastened inside, bearing her slight form with him. He barked a series of orders to Timmons and Mrs. Turnbull, and they scurried away to do his bidding.
Bypassing the room he’d locked her in earlier, he shouldered his way into his room and laid her on the bed. A fire blazed in the hearth, and the warmth seeped into his bones. He only hoped it would warm her quickly enough.
“We should summon the physician,” Mrs. Turnbull said as she bustled into the room with a tray of hot soup and tea.
“No, we can’t,” Simon murmured.
She looked at him aghast.
“I needn’t remind you that in my line of work discretion is of the utmost importance.”
“But the poor little mite is near frozen to death!”
“You’ve plenty of medicinal skill. I trust in your abilities. I’m sure you will have Beth in the pink of health before the morning.”
The older woman’s cheeks reddened slightly, and a pleased smile spread across her face. “Yes, well, of course I can. I’ll require some privacy. It wouldn’t do for you to remain.”
She stared pointedly at him, and with a sigh, he rose. “I’ll be below stairs in my office. Summon me if you have need of anything. If she regains consciousness, notify me at once. And do not, under any circumstances, leave her alone,” he warned.
In his study, he poured a brandy and stood warming himself by the fire. The princess had proven a much more difficult task than he had thought. In fact, he had imagined her falling into his arms in relief and begging for his protection. Instead, she had run from him.
A frown tugged the corners of his mouth. Gaining her trust could prove impossible. And her trust was essential if he was to carry out his mission. England’s security was the uppermost priority. And until he could discover the reason behind her family’s assassination, he could ill afford to be remiss in his duty.
“My lord, Mr. Kirkland is here to see you,” Timmons called from the door.
“Show him in.”
Simon rubbed the back of his neck and straightened his stance as he waited for Kirk. Seconds later, Kirk strode through the door, a frown marring his face.
“Where have you been?” Kirk demanded.
“It’s a long story,” Simon muttered. “What news do you bring from the palace?”
“His Majesty wants you to present the princess to him in the morning.”
Simon grimaced. It meant she would be spending the night under his roof, and he’d get little sleep making sure she didn’t escape again.
“Inform His Majesty that I will personally present Her Highness in the morning.”
Kirk nodded. “I’ll convey your message to him directly.”
He turned and strode purposefully out of the room, leaving Simon standing by the fire.
Simon turned away and set his drink on the desk. Whether Mrs. Turnbull allowed it or not, he was going up to see how the princess was faring. It was time they had a very frank discussion.
He walked up the stairs to his bedchamber and knocked softly on the door. Not waiting for an answer, he opened the door and eased in.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Mrs. Turnbull scolded from her perch on the bed beside the princess.
“How is she?” Simon asked, ignoring the woman’s remonstrations.
“Ask her yourself.”
Slowly the princess’s head turned, and she looked at him with her ocean eyes. He could read nothing in their depths, no clue as to what she was thinking. He crossed the room to stand at the bedside. “Excuse us for a few moments, Mrs. Turnbull.”
Mrs. Turnbull started to protest, but he silenced her with a stern look. Grumbling beneath her breath, she took her leave, but left the door open.
He turned his attention back to the princess. “How are you feeling?”
