Eloping with the Princess (Brotherhood of the Sword #3)(17)
He was silent for a moment, giving his words time to sink in, studying her, maybe even wondering whether this plan held any appeal to her.
It did not.
“But it won’t come to that, will it?” she asked. “It must not come to that. You won’t let it.”
His lips twitched, and for an instant, she thought her answer must have pleased him, but then his expression grew serious again. “No. The Brotherhood will not allow the queen to be assassinated.”
Isabel knew Queen Victoria had an entire force of men protecting her, but she realized she had a greater opportunity here—she could protect not only Victoria herself, but the Crown of England.
She could…what did they call it? Abdicate the throne, that was it. She would turn it down. Show that Lord Protector who’d killed her family that she had no desire to take power from him. Although she knew it wasn’t that simple, Jason was right. They’d never simply let her disappear. But she refused to play a part in a plan that would kill Queen Victoria. It was treason, and she wouldn’t be a willing participant, and in truth she’d do whatever it took to avoid playing a role on any level.
Jason peered out the window, then checked his pocket watch.
“Where are we going?” she asked. She had no notion of where they were, although judging from the quiet of their surroundings, they were quite far from London.
“One of my country estates, one that isn’t well known or used much. We should be safe there while I figure out how to keep you protected long term,” Jason said.
She eyed her companion. He held the small curtain aside with one finger, watching the landscape pass as the carriage rumbled along. He was handsome, rather alarmingly so, if she were honest. From his short-cropped brown hair to his perfectly shaped aristocratic nose to his chiseled jawline to the startling cerulean of his eyes, he was the very picture of a dashing gentleman. He looked as if he belonged more in the center of a crowded ballroom than here in this tiny carriage with her.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
His shrewd blue eyes met hers. “It is my duty to protect. I work for the Crown of England. You are now involved and therefore deserve protection.”
She nodded.
“It is strange to wake up and believe one thing about yourself, then end the day realizing you are someone else entirely,” she said.
His eyes bore into hers. “Yes, it is.”
And she would have sworn that he truly understood. Not only that he commiserated, but that he knew precisely what she meant. It was on her tongue to ask him if he truly did understand, but he let the curtain fall back into place, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
About half an hour later, Jason rapped on the roof of the carriage, and it rolled to a stop. “We’ll have to stop here for the night as my estate is still another day’s ride away.”
“Another day? ’Tis far away.”
“Yes.” He withdrew from the carriage then held a hand up to her. “Nearly to the Scottish border.”
Relief swam through her. Certainly, she’d be more difficult to find this far north of London. She’d never been out of the city, and she longed to see the landscape, but darkness had fallen. All she could make out behind them were the shadows of lines of trees.
…
After she’d peppered him with questions about Saldania and the plot to usurp the throne, Jason had pretended to sleep. It had been better than continuing with the conversation lest he reveal to her how deadly the situation was. He had no doubt that once the men behind this traitorous plan got her married and safely on the throne next to her husband, Isabel would be quietly murdered. Jason didn’t want to terrify her.
Jason stretched outside of the carriage before he assisted Isabel to the ground. The sign hanging by the front gate wobbled in the wind, and the sharp scent of rain hung heavy in the air.
“A storm is coming.” Jason nodded toward the inn. He glanced at the Tudor-style building with fresh eyes, seeing it perhaps as Isabel did. The half-timbered, black-and-white building was showing its age, but the grounds were clean and tidy and, other than the handful of missing bricks from the far right chimney, it was in decent shape. “Might not be much, but we can at least stay dry. They should also have something we can eat.”
Her stomach growled in response, and she gave him a shy grin. “That would be quite nice.”
Several fat drops fell onto them. Thankfully, a groom jogged out to greet them. Jason gave the man instructions about the horses before accompanying Isabel inside the inn.
Jason had stayed at The Boar and the Hound on more than one occasion when traveling to his family’s estate in Northumberland. It was not the most luxurious of inns, but it was clean, and the food was decent. He certainly hoped it would meet Isabel’s approval. Granted she’d been raised in a school, not in a palace as she should have been, and he already knew her standards were low considering she’d asked him to put her in the servants’ quarters.
The tavern on the first floor of the inn already hummed with activity and people. No doubt the oncoming storm had forced more than a few to stop here for at least a meal in hopes of avoiding a drenching. Two barmaids skirted the tables, passing out bowls of steaming food as well as tankards of ale. Several road-worn travelers huddled at said tables, eating and drinking, but everything seemed to stop when Jason and Isabel stepped inside. As if they could tell Isabel was royalty, people turned to stare.