Page 24 of Kilty Until Proven Innocent
Drummond opened his mouth to reply—Aye, of course, each King had his own version of the Hunters—when he saw His Majesty exchange a sly glance with his wife, and the truth slammed into Drum so hard his chest ached.
Sucking in a breath, he managed, “The…Angels?”
“The Queen’s Angels,” his monarch corrected, bringing the goblet to his lips. “My wife’s secret agents, disguised as her attendees.”
Drum couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.
Brigit was…
Brigit was…an agent of the Queen? Usingtheir connectionto investigate him?
“Yer Majesty!”
The sharp call came not from Brigit, but rather, the lady-in-waiting dressed in maroon. She was tall and thin, her face scarred beneath an austere wimple. She’d been standing quietly, hands folded, but now stepped forward smartly as both monarchs turned to her.
Instead of saying more, she leaned across the table and pulled the goblet from the King’s hand. The guard moved his hand to his sword, but the King easily relinquished his drink. “Lady Avaline?”
“That smell…” she murmured, peering down into the goblet. “Ye havenae taken a drink yet?”
“Nay,” the Queen answered for both of them, leaning forward, hands clutching the arms of her chair. “What is it?”
“Mayhap naught. But mayhap…” She sniffed the goblet, then glanced about the room. “Nae handy dogs.”
“What?” the King barked.
The lady shrugged. “In the stories, when the hero suspects the wine is poisoned, it is given to one of the dogs, or perhaps a monkey, and then the animal dies, proving the hero’s suspicions correct.”
The King’s tone was laced with horror when he said, “Ye expect me topoisonone of my dogs?”
“Do ye have a monkey, Yer Majesty?”
“We are not poisoninganyanimal, Avaline,” the Queen said sternly. “Even if youdosuspect the wine is poisoned.”
“Oh, it most certain is,” the scarred lady said, then leaned to tip the goblet into a plate of fruit.
“Excellent,” the King muttered. “Now I cannae have the pear I wanted.”
“Stop complaining, dearest,” his wife commanded, peering intently at the fruit. “You may have an apple.”
“I dinnaelikeapples,” he complained.
“Ye will like them even less if they continue to smoke like that,” Lady Avaline pointed out.
Both monarchs released breaths and sat back in their seats, as if attempting to get farther away from the smoking, poisoned fruit. Drum’s gaze darted about the room, trying to understand what was happening.
The Queen raised her hand as if bestowing a blessing. “You were correct, Lady Avaline. The winewaspoisoned, and you have saved His Majesty’s life again.”
Her husband was staring in horror at the apple. “A true hero,” he muttered.
But the lady-in-waiting merely inclined her head regally, a small smile on her lips. “I was merely doing my duty, Yer Majesty. I am sworn to protect ye both.”
The Queen sent her husband a glance. “And you know what they say;An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
He scoffed. “No’thatapple. I’m staying even farther away from them now. And I happen to like the palace doctor.”
“That is because he prescribed you extra ale and beef. The meat is too fatty, dearest, you need more roughage and vegetables in your diet.”
“I’mno’ eating poisoned apples,” the King muttered, and his wife merely reached over to pat his hand indulgently.
