Page 61 of Let Me Be Your Hero
“And do you have this Jacoby in custody?”
Mr. Daubney shook his head. “He’s gone to ground. We’re looking for him,” he added when Archibald growled.
“Spare no expense. He must be captured, and I will pay whatever is necessary to see it done.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill. “And write down everything you know about him. Lady Morsley will have contacts in the neighborhoods he frequents. Perhaps she can dig something up. My wife is her little sister, you know.”
Mr. Daubney took up the quill. “Her contacts will be as good as ours. It’s certainly worth a try.”
Once the Runner had left, Archibald tried to sort through the mound of paperwork that had accumulated in his absence. But he couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing.
Those bastards would havekilledIzzie. They’d better hope they got sent to New South Wales. It was in their own best interest to put as much distance between themselves and him as possible because if he ever got his hands on them…
Suffice it to say, when McPherson knocked on his door a quarter of an hour later and announced the King of Salaria, Archibald was not in the absolute best mood for receiving visitors.
King Charles Filiberto had a long, thin nose and bulging eyes. He was taller than Archibald by several inches but probably weighed five stone less. He was dressed in full military regalia, which Archibald found ironic—although his island nation had a navy of some repute in spite of its small size, their king had never led it into battle.
The king minced into the room, wrinkling his nose at Archibald’s plainly furnished office. “Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy, it is about time, yes? I have called five times. Five times, and only now do you deign to receive me! You must think very highly of your cannons to keep a king wait—”
This was the moment the king turned and beheld the dark scowl upon Archibald’s face. He recoiled, his expression a mix of alarm and offense.
“I believe you were informed that my wedding occurred three days ago? Your Majesty,” Archibald remembered to add.
The king drew himself up. “I was told.”
“And that someone has been trying tokill my wife?” Archibald was unable to keep his voice from shaking with rage as he uttered those words.
“They did say something about your troubles, yes.”
Archibald’s voice emerged as a low growl. “As sorry as I am to have kept Your Majesty waiting, perhaps you can appreciate that these are exceptional circumstances.”
The king looked affronted at the notion that he should be expected to appreciate anything. “Exceptional circumstances or not, royalty should not be kept waiting. Now, regarding my order of cannons. I do not wish to wait six months.”
Archibald had reached the limit of his patience. “I understand completely. I will, therefore, be more than willing to cancel Your Majesty’s order and refund their full purchase price.”
“Cancel?” The king bristled. “I do not wish to cancel! I insist that the full fifty cannons be delivered immediately!”
“Well, they can’t be delivered immediately.Your Majesty.” Archibald drew in a breath. He couldn’t be rude to a king, even if he was a self-important boor. “I’m afraid the cannons we are making today have already been spoken for. Your choices are to wait your turn or not to receive any cannons at all.” It was all Archibald could do to stop himself from adding,as my office manager told you four times.
The king raised his nose in the air. “I see it is no use speaking to you. You are as bad as the other man. You leave me no choice—I shall go to your king!”
Archibald nodded gravely. “Please do. Tell him of your desire to jump the queue. Assuming he agrees to push back the delivery date on the order we are currently working on, which is for the British Royal Navy, then I suppose we can accommodate you.”
The king’s eyes darted around. Archibald knew damn well he wasn’t going to demand that the King of England push back his own country’s order of cannons, and he was trying to come up with some other card that he could play.
There was a knock at the door. McPherson poked his head in. “Robert Smalley from the Office of Ordnance is here to see you, Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy, sir.”
“Excellent.” Smalley entered, and Archibald ushered the king toward the door. “This is in regard to my wife. I did mention that someone is trying to murder her?”
“Yes, b-but—”
“And, of course, I would never dream of detaining Your Majesty. You’re on your way to speak to the king.” Archibald bowed deeply. “Do let me know what he says.”
It was unthinkably rude to shut the door in a ruling monarch’s face.
Archibald did it anyway. He was that eager to find out what Smalley had learned.
In defiance of his name, Smalley was a bear of a man with a stocky frame from days spent inspecting cannons and moving them around, with pale blue eyes and a ginger beard.
“Well?” Archibald asked, too eager to bother with pleasantries. “What have you learned?”
