“Nothing as exciting as that, I’m afraid.” Grey wasn’t sure how to proceed. Did Stratmore already know Grey was now a spy? Even if he did, Madelaine could never know. Stratmore seemed happy to hear about the courtship. With luck the next bit of news would please the man more and not anger him, if he wasn’t already aware of Grey’s status. “I’ve just finished my equerry training.”
“Splendid. That’s a fine, noble thing to do.”
“I think so.”
“Who are you serving?”
“Lord Grey is an equerry to your friend Lord Pearson, Father.”
Grey smiled at Madelaine’s proud tone.
“Well,” Stratmore said. “That’s most interesting news.” The duke fumbled with a button on his coat. Stratmore didn’t seem a man to fumble. When he slowly looked up, his blue eyes were intent, and Grey felt a cold draft of displeasure through the layers of his clothes.
He straightened and met the man’s gaze which had turned unnaturally bright. “I’d love to discuss my duties with you.” What he really wanted to do was assure Stratmore that he had every intention, if his courtship should come to that, of one day being a good husband to Madelaine. Just because she couldn’t know he was a spy didn’t mean she would be unhappy.
“Madelaine, is the queen not expecting you?” her father asked.
“She is.” Madelaine bit her lip and glanced uneasily between Grey and her father. “I do have to go. Father, how long will you be staying? We can visit tonight at dinner and tomorrow—”
“I have to leave after I see the king.”
Grey’s heart squeezed for the way Madelaine’s face fell.
“Take heart, my girl. I’ll be back within the month to collect you.”
“Collect me?” She shuffled backward, nearly tripping over Grey’s boot. He reached out to steady her, though he felt rather unsteady himself. Her father didn’t seem to welcome the courtship now that he knew Grey was a spy like himself. His throat tightened with the need to argue his case, but he held his words. No sense trying to convince the duke with Madelaine standing here.
“But, Father—”
Stratmore turned away with a gesture of frustration. “Don’t question me. We’ll discuss the matter on my return.”
Madelaine’s gaze met Grey’s. Her face had gone pale, but she nodded.
Grey wanted to assure her everything would sort out. He stood still, the blood pounding thickly in his ears.
“Until next month then,” she finally said to her father. Her pulse thumped wildly in the open throat of her dress. “Lord Grey.”
“Lady Madelaine.” His words came out thick with emotion, but she passed by him without another word.
The moment she was out of sight, he addressed Stratmore. “I believe I understand your concerns.”
“You don’t.”
Grey felt certain he did. “Sir, you were married.”
“Which is precisely why I know how difficult the lying is. We’ll talk no more of it. My decision is made, and the king is expecting me.”
“The king expects me too. Madelaine likes me.”
Stratmore squinted at Grey. “She likes shooting arrows too. But I ended that folly.”
“Sir.”
Stratmore jerked his head. “You’ve been anequerryhow long?”
“One day.”
“Exactly. You know nothing of the job. The dangers. I was married before I became what I am. I’d never have married afterwards, but it was too late. I didn’t know better.”
