But this as an alternative?“Breaking into the palace is idiotic. I feel idiotic just listening to the idea.”
William shrugged, raising his hands in an I-don’t-know-what-to-tell-you manner. “It’s your choice. I just don’t know that there’s time for anything else. If they catch him, he’s done for.”
The sensible, rational, reasonable part of her knew that this was foolish. On the unlikely chance they did manage to intercept her father before he was caught, there was no guarantee he’d abort his mission—not with Tucker encouraging him.
Her heart latched on to William’s reasoning: if they were caught, his name, his relationship to the king, would keep them from harm, and potentially save Alastair also.
“Fine,” she said, straightening her shirt and coat. “God, I hope this works.”
William’s expression was jubilant. He bounced on his toes and rubbed his hands together, looking so confident that she thought maybe, maybe, this could work.
***
From under the deep shadows of one of the trees that lined the street, Fiona and William stared up at Westminster Palace. All the confidence that had built up on the long walk there dissipated once she saw the tall fence topped with spikes, the plentiful and evenly spaced lampposts that flooded the area with light, and the pair of guards with long rifles who were walking the perimeter.
Even William seemed hesitant, his previous enthusiasm extinguished. “You know, Edward probably would have a solution to get your father out of this scrape. He does it for me all the time.”
And perhaps that’s what she should do. Perhaps this was where she needed to confess to her secret keeping and ask for Edward’s help. But then she would also have to confess to her actions, to leaving the Mottram ball so she could commit felony break and enter. That wasn’t an argument she was willing to have.
“Ye dunnae have to come. Da has done nothing to earn yer help.”
William exhaled. “I’m hardly going to leave you to do it on your own.”
Thank God.She didn’t think she could have done it on her own. At the very least she would need his help carrying the stolen supplies home from where they’d stashed them on the way to the palace.
The patrolling guards turned a corner. “I guess it’s now or never.” He raced to the fence and wrapped each hand high around iron posts and began to walk up the fence. When he got to the top, he straddled it awkwardly between two spikes and offered her his hand.
With blood rushing through her ears, she accepted it and let him pull her up the fence. Instead of straddling it, she toppled over, landing hard on her still-tender wrist. She couldn’t help the yelp of pain that escaped her.
William dropped elegantly to his feet beside her. “Finn? You all right?”
She sat upright, gingerly moving her hand. “I think so. Aye.” Thank goodness for the thick wool of her coat. It had saved her from grazing herself, though tomorrow she would be covered in bruises.
William gave her his hand and she stood, brushing dirt off her pants.
“We should move,” William said. They had gone no farther than three steps when the barking started. A pack of six dogs—huge, snarling brutes whose bared teeth glinted under the lamplight—came hurtling around the corner. Fiona and William looked at each other. His expression was as horrified as hers must have been.
“Bad idea,” Fiona said.
“Fucking bad idea.”
Chapter 27
Ihave never moved with such haste in my life,” Fiona said, sinking into the billiards room armchair with a very large glass of whisky in hand.
“I legitimately shat myself. That’s why I changed,” William said, pouring himself a glass. “Christ, that was fun.”
“Fun?” She choked on her drink, coughing and spluttering until William leaned over and thumped her on her back. She winced at his enthusiasm. Once she gathered herself, she looked at him with utter disbelief. “It was stupid and foolhardy, and I cannae believe we even attempted it. No one can know about this.”
“Agreed,” William said raising his glass. “To partners in crime, may we always be there for each other.”
Fiona raised a glass, too, but the toast stung. William was a good man. Foolish and reckless, obviously. But he was a good brother to Charlotte and had been a good friend to Fiona. When he said “be there for each other,” he meant it.
Which made her feel like rubbish, because she genuinely cared for the Stirling siblings. They’d shown her a life she hadn’t known existed, let alone craved. Getting tangled up with them was selfish and unkind when she knew she wasn’t going to stay in their lives.
She should tell him. Warn him that she was not someone who could be counted on. She was just about to say so when Andrew entered the room. She straightened. Andrew had been asked to stand watch over Alastair’s residence.
“Your da is back home, miss. Stumbled out of a cab and staggered into his building.”
