Page 49 of The Bright and Hungry Future of Hawks

Finally, another servant arrived. Lady Philipa, they were told, was not free to see them until the afternoon. Would they like to wait? Apparently on some chairs provided in the hallway for such…people. Only a few hours. She was sure they would understand...

It was evident, even to Ben, who did not understand the strange dynamic which existed between these three people, that this dismissal, this humiliation, was not orchestrated by Philipa at all. It was not one of her staff, but one ofhiswho delivered the message in an overtly polite, yet insolently condescending tone.

But she, Ben realised, was apparently unable to stop it.

For one moment, Ben experienced a profound sense of pity for Nikolas, something that he didn’t often feel, if truth be told. Nikolas’s irritating, quirky personality didn’t lend itself to eliciting sympathy from anyone. Most people were only just struggling to keep up with the weirdness.

But this—being told to wait in the hallway, on hard chairs, in what had once beenhishouse, maintenance and upkeep courtesy of Mikkelsen money—pained Ben on Nikolas’s behalf.

This was nothing about Philipa being too busy. This was petty revenge by an entitled prince towards the man who obviously reminded him of the days when he held all their secrets in the palm of his hand.

The power had now shifted.

Now Nikolas was treated like a Russian peasant come begging at the door of the Tsar.

Ben felt furious on Molly’s behalf too. She could obviously not understand whypapawas not allowed to do something. This was entirely novel and therefore very puzzling to her. “Why don’t we just tell the queen you are here, Papa?” Her slight emphasis onyoumade it plain who she put top of that pecking order.

Nikolas’s wince at this plaintiff inquiry was painful to see. The fallen idol realising his irrelevance in the new world order.

She then attempted to run up the stairs herself, sure, Ben was convinced, that she would see her elusive queen, if only she was fast enough to escape him. She’d not only inherited his looks, she was nippy too, and made it up the sweeping stairs and almost all the way along the top corridor to the family bedrooms before he caught her.

When they returned, Nikolas was on his phone, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, apparently just finishing off a text.

“What’s up?”

Nikolas replied blithely, which, Ben reflected, was a sure sign something was afoot, “The moron forgot the code to the house alarm. Couldn’t turn it on.”

“Forgot? How? It’shisbirthday.”

“Yes. Well. I do not call him that ironically. Let’s do something more interesting than this. Molly? Would you like to see a mermaid? We could set the dogs on her, see how fast she can swim.” Swooping her up, he stomped out of the hallway, swinging her up onto his shoulders when they reached the gravel outside.

Ben, as usual, he thought somewhat bitterly, was left to apologise to the overly suspicious protection officers; explain they would wait, but on the beach; and then follow in Nikolas’s wake to the car, where the dogs were now being released.

Both guards swiftly backed off as Radulf unwound from the rear seats and clambered out onto the gravel. They took another step away as the crate was opened and PB, blue gaze piercingly critical, eyed them unfavourably for a moment before he went to stand beside his charges: Molly and Radulf.

Radulf, unfamiliar with the grounds, allowed himself to be clipped to the younger dog, and they set off at a leisurely pace, the smell from the sea a tantalising addition to the brisk winter day. When they reached the river that wound down through the grounds to the first beach and carved its way through the sand to the waves, they all kicked shoes aside and peeled off their socks. Rolling trousers to their knees, they waded into the cool flowing water.

The dogs, now separated, tore wildly around out of control and loving the freedom. Molly squealed with delight as Ben and Nikolas took a hand each and swung her over the deeper parts of the stream and then, when they reached the shore, over the waves, which crashed remorselessly onto the beach.

Ben knew where Nikolas wanted to go—around the headland to the other beach, where everything they had and were now had begun with one snatched and tentative kiss. One moment to turn what theywereinto something they couldbecome. Ben glanced at Nikolas and thought he saw the same recollections reflected in his expression. “We’ll have to wait for the tide to go down a bit before we can get around safely.”

Nikolas laughed and said something in Russian under his breath, and before she could protest, swung Molly up onto his shoulders once more. Calling for the dogs, he began to wade out deeper into the water that crashed around the projecting headland.

Ben watched the figures for a moment.

If there was ever a place where Nikolas was most relaxed and happy it was in water, at a beach, by waves. Perhaps it was the sense that there, in such an element, his nature could not be constrained, but Ben privately thought it was much simpler than that. Nikolas was closest to being the boy he had once been here on a beach. He and his twin and their mother must have spent hours in the family cove on Aero—long summer days when the two blond-haired brothers had run and played and fought and loved before the darkness had come upon them.

Glad the hiccup with Philipa was so happily forgotten, Ben called for the four adventurers to wait for him and plunged running into the waves to follow.

* * *

Chapter 27

Nine Years Six Months Ago

Another operation, another country.

Once again, Aleksey was confused as to why he’d invited Ben Rider to Barton Combe after this latest mission. They hadn’t seen each other, or spoken come to that, since their abortive meeting the previous month. Clearly, theunsettle Ben Ridertactic he’d employed after the interview was well past its sell by date, as Ben was now a frequent visitor. So that wasn’t the reason.

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