Page 41 of Paladin's Faith

“Years ago. We’re far too much trouble. I don’t know why you put up with us.”

“Someone has to reach the high shelves.”

He laughed softly. “There’s that. I wouldn’t suggest you bed that one, though, my dear. He’ll disappoint you.”

Irritation sparked and she had to work to keep her tone light. “And you wouldn’t?”

“My dear Marguerite, it is my job to know what a woman wants.” He stroked a fingertip down her bare arm and she repressed the shiver, turning to glare at him. “You want, for once, not to be performing. You want to be in charge, not pretending that some slobbering minor politician is doing you a favor by bedding you.”

The problem with other spies was that they were just as capable of seeing you as you were of seeing them. Marguerite shook her head, annoyed with both of them. “And you’d be happy to let me be in charge, I suppose?”

Davith chuckled. “Oh, a few times at least, until the novelty wears off. But that fellow…no, the moody types come in like a storm. Look at his eyes. He is waiting to see who he needs to kill.”

“He’s a professional killer, what do you expect?”

“An assassin?”

“A knight.”

Davith’s laugh was startled and unfeigned. “Good god. A knight for a bodyguard? You?”

“He can’t be bought and he’s good at what he does.”

“Stone the crows, of course. I don’t know why I never thought of it.”

“Because you lack imagination, my dear Davith.” She stretched up and planted a kiss in the air a few inches from his cheek. “And now, as delightful as this conversation has been, I shall take my leave. Good luck with your widow.”

“I am certain that the lady shall yield to my charms eventually,” he said, with a mournful glance at his feet. “I only hope that it is before my socks have too many more holes in them.”

Marguerite shook her head and went to find other people to mingle with.

SEVENTEEN

For the first time in three days, Shane was not shadowing Marguerite. She had gone to a meeting and bodyguards were, apparently, not allowed.

“It’s not that it’s dangerous,” she said, “it’s that there’s no room. The largest meeting room they can give us only fits a hundred or so, and we’ll be packed in like pickled herring in a jar. There’s no room to attack anyone.”

“Poison could be administered, or a very narrow dagger—”

Marguerite just looked at him. “I’d notice. And since I couldn’t get out of the room before I dropped dead, it would make quite a scene.”

“But the danger is there. It is my duty—"

“It is your duty to follow my orders.”

This was true so far as it went, and it probably wasn’t dangerous enough to try to veto it, but Shane made one last stab. “I could pretend to be your apprentice.”

She put her hands on her hips and gazed up at him. “Because you look so much like a perfumer’s apprentice.”

“What do those look like?”

Her mouth suddenly curved in one of those irrepressible grins. Shane had a sudden urge to run his thumb across her lower lip. He froze that thought and set it aside to dispose of later.

“They wear less armor,” she said, patting his arm. He could feel the touch through his surcoat, chain, and a layer of padding. “And they don’t walk like they’re trying to figure out how to murder everyone in the room.”

“Not everyone.”

“I’ll see you in three hours. Wait for me at the door of the meeting room. Go take a walk or a nap or something.”