She rose, careful not to make a sound, and crept over to the library door where she turned the lock to ensure she would not be discovered. Then, with a thudding heart, she tiptoed to the adjacent door and sinking to her knees, pressed close to the ground and the space where the sun shone in. She couldn’t see anything but that hardly mattered, she knew the king’s voice.
“Terrible business,” he said, paper crinkling on the other side of the door. Had Grey given the king back his paper? Was her father now condemned? Was she condemned?
“Sire, what do you wish me to do?” Grey asked.
Drumming—fingers on a table perhaps—came from the room. “I don’t know. I cannot ignore my own culpability. I knew Stratmore was angry when I forced him to leave France. He was sure Sutton was alive, and he could save him. I was sure I’d lose one more good and loyal spy if Stratmore stayed to try to find Sutton. Even after we found Sutton’s ring, I could see the anger toward me in Stratmore’s eyes. I think he blamed me for Sutton’s death. He thinks I made the wrong decision, but damn it—”
The bang on the other side of the room was followed by the sound of something—glass—which fell and shattered. Madelaine inhaled a steadying breath and pressed closer to the floor.
“I didn’t make the decision alone. I sought your father’s advice as I will now seek your brother’s. I know my limitations with my malady.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
A chair squeaked, and suddenly the shadow of shoes fell by the door. Madelaine rested her hands against the floor, held her breath and prepared to jump and run to her chair if the door started to open.
“I want you to vow something to me, Lord Grey, as I made your brother vow and your father before him.”
“Of course.”
“If you see that my mind is too addled to rule, and your brother agrees, I have written my express wishes that my son rule as regent. The paper is locked in the gold box in my room at Windsor. Your brother knows the box. Take the paper, get it to the prince, and I’ve no doubt he’ll be happy to take my throne from me. Vow this to me.”
“I vow it,” Grey swore, his voice trembling.
Madelaine rose on shaking legs and made her way to the chair. She sunk down and buried her face in her hands, struggling to contain her sobs for her king, her father and herself. Father was a fool. He’d betrayed his king when there was no need, and she’d willingly gone down with him. Maybe she was a fool too.
What had driven Father’s choices? Had he done it because of an old anger about being forced to marry Mother? Or maybe the king forcing Father to leave a comrade he didn’t know for certain was dead? Had that been the thing that turned Father? It didn’t matter. The deed was done. Even now, Grey was probably telling the king of her part. Soon she’d be locked in the tower.
Twenty-Nine
Grey picked up the paper and walked to the fireplace. He threw it into the flames, watching as it curled inward, flames blackening the paper into ash. It was gone, but what he had to do lingered heavy in his mind. He turned his ring, examining his thoughts.
Damn, Madelaine. He hated her, yet he still loved her. He could slightly understand if it was only a matter of her compulsion to help her father if he was attempting to protect England, but he couldn’t understand her helping her father or anyone else to kill another spy…Had she known of that? Would she continue her father’s plan—whatever the hell it was—if Grey kept her part secret? Even now, was she plotting a way to escape and meet up with the man who had tried to kill him in the woods?
“Grey?” The king’s voice startled him out of his musings.
He swung around and tensed at the sight of Gravenhurst standing by the king’s side, the king’s pallor shockingly white. Grey clenched his jaw. He couldn’t afford to become so distracted by Madelaine that he didn’t notice when someone entered a room, or that the king needed him.
“Ring for my doctor,” the king commanded.
Gravenhurst immediately rang the bell on the table by the king’s chair and within seconds, the king’s physician swept into the room. “My lord?”
“I feel dizzy.” The king’s voice rasped through the room.
The physician gestured to Gravenhurst. “Fetch the pages. Your Majesty, the bloodletting is making you dizzy. You need broth and rest.”
Two pages rushed into the room and took the king by either arm to lead him toward the door. The king turned at the threshold and looked at Grey and Gravenhurst. “I leave matters in your capable hands for now. Keep me updated.”
Grey bowed and when the door shut, he spoke. “Did you find Edward?”
Gravenhurst shook his head, his face paling until the scar on his forehead stood out like a beacon. “What’s wrong?” Grey demanded, fear making his tone sharper and louder than he’d intended.
Gravenhurst slid a hand into the pouch at his side and withdrew a soiled, crumpled piece of paper. Gravenhurst unfolded the note. Fear inched along Grey’s skin. The missive was the size they used to send messages between each other by carrier pigeons. Gravenhurst looked up, his eyes burning bright. “I never made it to your home. I stopped halfway to water the horses and check in with one of our contacts who maintains a pigeon house for us. A bird had just arrived with this note and a small package.”
Grey took the note from Gravenhurst and scanned the scrawl.Lords Grey and Gravenhurst, I have Ashford. I’ll trade his life for that of the lovely Lady Madelaine. Meet me on the 8that the Dockside Warehouse. Come alone or Ashford dies.
Today was the eighth. Grey frowned, trying to order his thoughts. “How do we know whoever this is, really has Edward?” There was much more he cared to ask, but all he could focus on right now was that one question. Later, he’d ask questions with his pistol pointed at the person he was questioning.
Gravenhurst thrust a ring toward Grey. Even before looking at the word “allegiance” engraved on the inside, he knew it was Edward’s. Ice thickened his blood as he stormed toward the door Madelaine was sitting behind. He plowed through the entrance, a loud bang announcing his arrival.
