Page 65 of Keep Her from Them

I blinked. “You’re leaving, too. It didn’t occur to me that meant right away.”

He shrugged, stepping into the road so I could stay on the pavement as we passed a couple who were staggering along,clearly drunk. The London streets were as busy as always, and it was barely ten in the evening.

“I was going to head home tonight, but where ye go, I go.”

The giddiness in my stomach returned in full force. “You don’t have to. You don’t work for me now.”

His lips curved. “Fully aware. Just tell me where to take ye.”

I needed to pick a location. “Home, I guess.”

“Scotland?”

I nodded. Dad’s house was where I’d spent summer holidays and Christmases, though it never felt like a place of my own.

“Then we’re going the same way.” He dug his fingers into his hair and raked it back. “Ah fuck. I’ve had the best idea. Dream come true.”

“What is?”

Happiness radiated off him. “How do ye feel about watching me fly?” Whatever expression was on my face made him laugh. “Seems I get ye as my passenger after all.”

Half an hour later, we were in a taxi and heading through central London. Raphael had taken mere minutes to clear his room at the bodyguard accommodation, luckily finding the place empty so avoiding awkward questions.

He’d rung ahead to book a helicopter, and by the time we reached a riverside transport hub with a helipad on the banks of the Thames, one was on its way.

We left the car and entered the building, Raphael talking to a waiting staff member while I drifted to stare from the windows. The city sparkled around us. I trusted Raphael completely.

He came to me. “I have to file a flight plan before the heli gets here. I’ll need an address, and ye might want to warn anyone in the house that we’ll land in their garden in the wee small hours, assuming that’s possible.”

I grimaced, imagining the ruckus and second-guessing my excitement. “Can you give me a minute?”

He nodded. I dialled my dad.

The call went straight to voicemail, so I called the landline instead.

“Lancaster House, Perkins speaking. Your Royal Highness, how may I help?”

Perkins was my father’s butler and a kind man. “Hi, Perkins, sorry for calling so late. Is Dad asleep?”

“He is indeed, ma’am. I’m afraid he’s had a couple of tricky days. Is the matter urgent?”

“What’s happened with him?”

“We believe just a cold, but it has tired him out. His sleep has been affected. Nothing to worry about.”

Which meant he’d told them not to inform me. I was the worst daughter alive for not contacting him for days. Another fact solidified—we couldn’t wake him with the drama of a helicopter landing on his lawn.

With a promise to call my father tomorrow, I got off the phone, twisting it in my hands. I turned back to Raphael. “Change of plan. Dad’s unwell. I don’t want to disturb him. Even if we landed a mile away, he’s a light sleeper and he’ll know I’m home.”

Disappointment drove over my dreams of escape and squashed them flat. I had friends I could call, but no one all that close. Not anymore. Only Dori would throw open his doors no questions asked, but he was still missing.

Silence played out between Raphael and me. The airfield operative down the room did a great job of looking busy at a tablet screen.

“I think I’ll have to go back—” I started.

“Come home with me.”

“W-what?”

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