Page 60 of Lady and the Scamp

“What are you saying?” He lifted the man’s head and looked at Emily. “Some water, please.”

She gestured helplessly to the overturned washstand and the shattered ewer.

Will looked down at the man. “Don’t you die on me.”

It seemed an eternity before a man in black strode into the room. Emily stood back as what appeared to be the surgeon pushed Will aside and knelt before the man. He shook his head and spoke quietly to Will. Will nodded, but instead of grief, Emily saw determination and fear in his eyes.

“We have to go. Now.”

She nodded. She’d understood the dying man’s threat. The footman was already back at the palace. She wanted to believe that it was a lie. Surely the rain had been too heavy last night for travel. But even if the man wasn’t back yet, he could be soon.

The queen was in danger.

“You can’t leave,” the surgeon said. “A man is dead. We need to fetch the magistrate.”

“Tell him to find me at Buckingham Palace,” Will said, taking Emily’s hand and pulling her in his wake. “It was self-defense. He had the knife, and in the struggle, I turned it on him. I didn’t mean to kill him. He’s a traitor, and even now his compatriot could be within the palace walls.”

“Now just a moment,” the surgeon yelled. Will didn’t wait. He led Emily down the steps of the inn, the innkeeper right behind them. Will raced into the stableyard, and Emily was surprised when the innkeeper pointed to a waiting hackney.

“I’ve already secured you a conveyance back to London,” the innkeeper said. Will led Emily to the hackney and put her inside. He climbed in after her, stalled only by the innkeeper who stood at the window. “Is it true? Is the queen really in danger?”

“You’ve been a great help,” Will said. “I won’t forget you.” He knocked on the roof and the hackney started away. Emilywatched as the innkeeper stood in the bustling yard. Then they turned a corner, and she stared at Will.

“You’re covered in blood.” She pulled her handkerchief from a pocket and offered it to him.

He gave her a smile. “You keep it. As I said, this isn’t my blood. I didn’t mean to...” He trailed off. “I’m not sorry. He would have killed you.”

She nodded then burst into tears. Will crossed to sit beside her. “I’d hold you, but—” He gestured to the blood on his clothing.

“I’m fine,” she sobbed. “I’m just tired of people trying to kill me.”

“That’s understandable. You didn’t sign up for this.”

She raised her chin. “No, I didn’t, but after all this, I’m not about to sit by and allow anyone to hurt the queen.”

“Neither am I.”

He looked out the window, seeming impatient at the pace, but powerless to do anything but watch the passing people and buildings. The roads were all but clear this early. They’d be back at the palace within the hour. Emily reached for Will’s hand, and he closed his warm hand around hers.

For some reason the fear she’d felt when she’d thought he’d been stabbed hadn’t faded. He was alive, but this was still an ending. They’d either save the queen and say good-bye or arrive too late. Either way, he would leave her.

She gripped his hand tighter, and he glanced at her. His eyes said what he hadn’t with his words yet. He loved her too. She could see it plainly in the way he looked at her.

And she could see, as well, that there was no point in him saying it. The end would be the same either way.

Chapter Fifteen

Will held Emily’s hand until they were almost upon the palace. He didn’t like to acknowledge how many times he’d almost lost her these past few days. He only had himself to blame. He should have never allowed her to go to Wapping with him.

And, of course, if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t know who to search for now. He’d always enjoyed being an agent before. He’d wanted to be an agent for the Crown ever since he’d been a child and learned of his parents’ service to their country. He hadn’t realized that giving Baron his oath of loyalty would mean putting Emily in danger.

Of course, he had to save the queen. But now he wasn’t so certain the queen meant more to him than Emily. The more he searched his feelings, the less certain he was that the queen was more important than Emily. Or that anything was more important than Emily—even his duty.

The carriage hadn’t even fully stopped before Will had the door open and was running inside the palace. The guards at the doors allowed him to pass when they saw who he was, and as he raced by, he called, “Come with me!” Enough followed that when he spotted the first palace footman, the man stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t the footman Will wanted, but he grasped him by the lapels anyway. “Where is the queen?”

The startled man pointed the way he’d come, but as there were a dozen rooms that way, Will shook the man. “What chamber, man?”

“S-she’s with the prime minister.”

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