The Crown Conspiracy Read Online Free Page B

but think he was handsome, which was not the reaction she expected to have about anyone she might meet in such a place. He was dressed in dirt-stained leather and wool, and was well armed. On his left side, he had a short sword with an unadorned hilt. On his right, was a similarly plain, longer, wider sword. Finally, slung on his back was a massive blade, nearly as tall as he was.

“My name is Hadrian, in case you have forgotten,” he said and followed the introduction with a suitable bow. “And who is this lovely lady with you?”

“This is Emily, my maid.”

“A maid?” Hadrian feigned surprise. “For one so fair, I would have guessed her to be a duchess.”

Emily inclined her head and for the first time on this trip, Alenda saw her smile.

“I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long. The viscount tells me he and Mason were keeping you company?”

“Yes, they were.”

“Did Mr. Grumon tell you the tragic tale of his mother being run down by an insensitive royal carriage?”

“Why, yes, he did. And I must say—”

Hadrian held up his hands in mock defense. “Mason’s mother is alive and well. She lives on Artisan Row in a home considerably nicer than the hovel where Mason resides. She has never been a cook at The Rose and Thorn. He tells that story to every gentleman or lady he meets to put them on the defensive and make them feel guilty. You have my apologies.”

“Well, thank you. He was rather rude and I found his comments more than a little disturbing, but now,” Alenda paused. “Did you…I mean, do you have…were you able to get them?”

Hadrian smiled warmly, then turning he called over his shoulder in the direction of the stable.

“Royce?”

“If you knew how to tie a proper knot, I wouldn’t be taking so long,” said a voice from inside. A moment later, the other half of the pair emerged and joined them.

Alenda’s memory of him was easier to recall because he was the more disturbing of the two. He was smaller than Hadrian was and possessed elegant features, dark hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in layers of black with a knee-length tunic and a long flowing cloak that gathered about him like a shadow. Not a single weapon was visible upon him. Despite his smaller size and apparent unarmed state, Alenda feared this man. His cold eyes, expressionless face, and curt manner had all the warmth of a predator.

From his tunic, Royce drew forth a bundle of letters bound with a blue ribbon. Handing them to her, he said, “Getting to those letters before Ballentyne presented them to your father wasn’t easy. As far as races go, it was very close but ultimately successful. You might want to burn those before something like this happens again.”

She stared at the package as a smile of relief crossed her face. “I…I can’t believe it! I don’t know how you did it, or how to thank you!”

“Payment would be nice,” Royce replied.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she handed the bundle to Emily, untied the purse from her waist, and handed it to the thief. He quickly scanned the contents, snapped the purse closed, and tossed it to Hadrian, who slipped it in his vest as he headed for the stables.

“You’d better be careful. It’s a dangerous game you and Gaunt are playing,” Royce told her.

“You read my letters?” she asked fearfully.

“No. I’m afraid you didn’t pay us that much.”

“Then, how did you know—”

“We overheard your father and Archibald Ballentyne talking. The marquis appeared not to believe the earl’s accusations, but I am certain he did. Letters or no letters, your father will be watching you closely now. Still, the marquis is a good man. He’ll do the right thing. My guess is he’s so relieved Ballentyne doesn’t have proof to take to court that your affair won’t bother him much. However, as I said, you’d better be more careful in the future.”

“How would the likes of you know anything about my father?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say