Page 55 of From London, With Love
Byrnes held up his gloved fingers, revealing a slip of paper between them. “Use the rope,” he read, “or your wife and son will make its acquaintance instead.” He tsked under his breath. “We are dealing with some coldly calculating killers, Your Grace. I don’t know how the letter got to him, but I found it in his pocket. Could have been any of the guards—”
“Search them.”
“Our dear Kincaid is already doing so. The rope is another matter.” Byrnes opened the door again and pointed to a small grate in the wall. “I believe it was slipped through the grate, though the opening into the air vents is so small that only a child would be able to move about within. Whoever it was, they’re long gone. I left him alone for half an hour to think about… the choices he needed to make, and when I returned he was hanging.”
Malloryn pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, my suspect is dead, our rejected prince is missing, and once again, we have no leads.”
“Oh, I didn’t say that, Your Surliness.” Byrnes clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dead men don’t talk. But you’d be amazed what you can learn about them if you do a little sleuthing. It seems our Guardsman Wallach was a bit of a gambler. Pockets too deep for his circumstances, so to speak. I’ve sent Ingrid and Lark out to do a little enquiring, but from what his fellow guards have mentioned, it seems Wallach was in debt. One guard recalls hearing a handful of dubious-looking gentlemen threatening to remove fingers if he didn’t suddenly pay, and even offered to help him out. But three days ago, he was suddenly tossing coin in games again. Told my informant he no longer needed a loan.”
Finally. “Please tell me you have a lead that isn’t going to vanish on us.”
Byrnes’s smile widened. “We have a lead, and this time, I don’t think it’s going to vanish.”
* * *
“Your Grace.”
Malloryn paused as Charlie caught up to him. “The prince?”
“Gone.” Charlie’s face wore a scowl. “He made it to the airfields before I could catch him. I don’t know how much money he cast about him, but a Russian airship managed to depart despite the lack of paperwork.”
Malloryn stilled. He’d thought Ivan innocent of any involvement in the assassination attempts, but why flee?
Mind racing, he turned to Charlie. “Just the prince? Or was his entire party with him?”
“Just the prince, and his man, Danil. The rest of the Russians are still in their chambers, and Herbert and Clara mentioned that the Grand Duchess is in a rage. Apparently, he informed her that the queen was likely to propose, and she… uh… destroyed everything.”
“So she’s unaware of the outcome of their conversation.” Which meant Prince Ivan hadn’t visited her since the queen dismissed his suit. “Ivan knows more than he should, but the rest of the party are merely dupes.”
“As I surmised too, Your Grace.”
A blonde woman had told the prince about the scarab brooches. A voluptuous blonde. At the time, Malloryn had assumed the prince was merely a decoy, but now?
It could have been a lie meant to distract Malloryn and his Rogues.
“Fetch me the Grand Duchess,” he told Charlie. “Put her in the blue suite. I want to have a word with her.”
Charlie winced. “She’s a little scary, Your Grace.”
Malloryn smiled. “So am I.”
Though he doubted he’d have to threaten her. A woman scorned was more than likely to wish to strike at her ex-lover by any means possible.
He could almost feel the wheels turning.
He’d have a name by the end of the day. He knew it.
* * *
Sir Gideon’sfingers twitched in Alexandra’s hand.
She lifted her head from his bed sharply, her heart leaping into her throat. “Gideon?”
He stirred restlessly, his dark lashes flickering against his cheek, his tongue licking dry lips. His eyes began to slowly open.
By all the heavens! He was waking. “Don’t move!” she told him sharply, reaching for the glass of water someone had left on his nightstand. “Here. Drink.”
Tipping the glass to his lips, she nearly drowned him. Gideon sputtered, and Alexandra wore most of it as he started coughing and then couldn’t stop.
