Eloping with the Princess (Brotherhood of the Sword #3)(52)

“I know your husband. Have since he was straight out of the schoolroom.” Mrs. Potterfield smiled. “He’s smart and strong. He shall survive.”

Although Isabel believed the woman’s sincerity, the words did little to calm her. She glanced around the room. The weaponry ranged from daggers to pistols to swords to a fencing foil. Isabel’s throat tightened. She didn’t think she could be one of those wives who sat at home and waited for notice that her husband had been killed. Especially not because of her.

She grabbed the foil and ran out of the room with Mrs. Potterfield calling her name.

…

Jason was alone. He could no longer see out of his right eye. It was swollen and bloodied.

The stairs leading to the room where he was being held creaked beneath the weight of someone approaching. It was the same man who had been beating on Jason since he’d arrived. He grabbed Jason and yanked him upright.

“Walk or I’ll drag you,” the man growled.

Jason stood despite every bone in his body aching. He wasn’t dead yet. Which meant there was still time to make things right with Isabel. Make things right with his wife. He followed the brute up the staircase and down a corridor. They emerged into the gardens behind the house.

“Yes, yes, bring him out here. I do not wish to have any more blood on my expensive rugs,” Lord Blakely was saying. He nodded with recognition as Jason stepped forward. “Ellis, you’ve certainly looked better.”

“Yes, well, your brute here has spent the better part of the evening pounding my face,” Jason said.

“You were far too handsome in any case,” Blakely said. “Damned annoying, if you ask me. No character to your face, just pretty lines, like a woman’s.”

Blakely’s rotund figure perched on a bench, taking up nearly the entire width of it. His enormous belly was stuffed in a waistcoat, and the cravat at his throat was tied big and flamboyant. The combination made his head look much smaller in proportion. He was the very picture of excess. Too much money. Too much food. Too much greed. And evidently the perception of far too much power.

“It was you this entire time?” Jason asked.

Blakely didn’t even bother to deny it. He merely grinned broadly. “It has been my greatest puppet show yet. Truly, the pieces fell into my lap. Granted we are still missing one.” He glanced around the gardens. “I’m certain she’ll show herself soon enough. Princess?” he called. “We know you’re out there.”

Isabel was here? Why wouldn’t she stay at Potterfield’s where she would be safe? But she did not answer Blakely or show herself.

“Thornton?” Jason asked.

“It took some time for me to uncover that he was the one who had the princess, but once I did, he was easy enough to control. It merely took promises of future positions of power within the new monarchy.” Blakely shook his head. “Fool.”

“And what do you get out of this?” Jason asked.

“I see what you’re doing. Trying to stall me so that I don’t kill you so quickly.” He shrugged his great beefy shoulders. “I can wait. I do want that pretty wife of yours to watch while I make her a widow.”

Jason said nothing and, though he longed to search the garden for signs of Isabel, he kept his focus on Lord Blakely.

“I shall be the new king’s closest advisor,” Blakely said.

“So promises of future power worked on you as well,” Jason goaded.

“Those fools would not have come this far without my plans,” Blakely roared. “I am master architect of this entire scheme. I have no actual claim to the throne myself, but there is certainly no reason why a stupid girl should be England’s leader. That will never do.”

“Isabel is the same age as Queen Victoria,” Jason said.

“True, but Victoria is unmarried and will listen to no one save Lord Melbourne. Isabel shall be safely married off, and I shall control her husband.”

Blakely was mad, that much was evident. The Crown didn’t even have that much practical control. It was primarily a figurehead with Parliament and the Prime Minister running the actual government. But the promise of power and prestige was often too tempting for people to ignore. Jason was weighing what to do next when a flash of light caught his gaze.

Isabel had hidden herself in the large shrubs that bordered the west side of the garden. In her hand, she held a long, thin blade—a sword, perhaps, or a fencing foil, he wasn’t certain. His heart swelled. His warrior princess had come to save him.

Isabel ran over to Jason as Somersby and Lynford jumped from the shrubs followed by several other members of the Brotherhood, all wielding weapons of their own. He knew she wouldn’t have come alone. She gave him her sword. Blakely was far too rotund to make an escape and gave up quickly once his thugs were taken down.

Her hands cupped his face gently. “You look terrible,” she said.

“Thank you. And thank you for coming to rescue me.” He pulled her to him, so very thankful that she was safe and next to him again.





Chapter Fifteen


Two days later, she’d been questioned by several members of the Brotherhood and then subsequently presented to the queen herself.

There had been a seemingly endless number of questions regarding her intentions toward her position as princess, if she planned to return to Saldania and take her rightful place. She’d explained that though she would welcome a visit to her birth nation, she had no desire to be anything save the Viscountess Ellis. Isabel finally felt as if the entire ordeal was over, at least the danger. Perhaps that meant she and Jason could finally begin to build a real marriage, a real life here in London.