Strike at Midnight(93)
“Is this true?” Prince Andrew demanded, and I never would have thought him capable of such anger and animosity if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
“Yes,” Ham quickly replied, “but she never said that she was betrothed to you. There has been no news of such a thing—”
“Do I have to report everything to you before it can be deemed true, Officer?” Prince Andrew said, and I stood up to get a better view of his face as he confronted Ham. He really was fuming.
“Of course not, Your Highness.”
“He wouldn’t have believed me even if I had told him,” I said, rubbing it in a bit more to get my vengeance on the sadistic bastard. “He even bypassed a trial with the Royal Court to have me publicly hanged. He wanted to get me out of the way.”
Prince Andrew reached out and took my hand to pull me against him, then stepped closer to Ham. He had to lean down slightly so they were face to face, and I couldn’t help but enjoy myself as Ham squirmed under the scrutiny.
“You dare to threaten the life of my wife-to-be?” he asked so quietly that even I struggled to hear him. Ham took a step back and looked like he was about to piss himself.
“It’s protocol,” he said, “but I didn’t know who she was at the time.”
“He was about to have me hanged without evidence,” I said, “after I found the body of Lord Dumpty at Lord Peacock’s residence. He wouldn’t believe me about the case, or Sir Raymond’s statement. He just wanted me gone.”
That should be enough to stir the pot to get the asshole into trouble, but I wasn’t expecting Prince Andrew to drop my hand and lift up Ham enough to slam him against the wall at my words. Now that was a shocker.
“You dare,” the prince said, and I could see he was barely hanging on to his temper. “I should have you hung for such treason.”
He slammed Ham against the wall once more and I put a hand on his arm. “Andrew,” I said in gentle tones, and thankfully my appeal reached him when he finally glanced my way. “Let him go. I’m fine.”
He eventually nodded then said, “We’re done here.” He dropped Ham back down on his feet. “But there will be an investigation on the law-enforcement officers after this display. I vow it.”
He grabbed my hand once more and pulled me with him out of the cell. I couldn’t resist turning back to a distressed-looking Ham, and I stuck out my tongue before he disappeared from sight. It was a bit more childish than giving him the finger, but it was the most innocent insult I could think of while holding the hand of a prince.
“We need to talk,” Prince Andrew said as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Wait until I get you back to the castle.”
I nodded, and he was satisfied with my response. But then it registered that he said the word castle. We were going back to the castle. And he had called me his betrothed.
Oh, crap.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Between a Rock and Hard Place
The ride back to the castle had been a quiet one, seeing as there had been two Royal Guards stashed in the grand carriage with us.
I had, for most of the journey, tried to get over the embarrassment of how much I must have reeked to the men around me, and the ride felt like it had taken forever. But now we were tucked away in one of the most resplendent drawing rooms I had ever known, and we were alone.
I honestly didn’t know where to look when the prince came to sit down on the chair next to me. I just kept my eyes on the crystal glass that a servant had brought in earlier, swirling the apparent sherry that I hadn’t gotten around to drinking yet. I mustn’t be feeling well.
“Are you sure you’re well?” Prince Andrew asked from my left, and I nodded.
“Yes I am,” I said. “Thank you for the rescue.”
“You’re more than welcome,” he said, and I didn’t know how to react when he picked up one of my dirty hands and held it in his own.
“I stink,” I blurted out, and I dared myself to look across at him to see a smile on his face.
“I doubted you would be smelling of roses after pulling you out of that place,” he said, but then his face fell. “I’m so sorry it took so long to come and get you, but I needed to briefly converse with a few members of the Royal Court after Sir Raymond came to visit me with the news. I needed to ensure we could get you out of there through the proper channels to ensure there was no comeback for you.”
“And you thought that a fake betrothal was the way to go?” I asked, emphasizing on the fake part of the scenario. Surely he wouldn’t have intended for this to be a real one just to save my ass? No matter his feelings on the subject.
“I thought a betrothal was the way to go, yes,” he said, purposely omitting the “fake” part. “But once we had learned that they had official grounds to bypass trial with the Royal Court, they said that the easiest way around it would be claiming that you are soon to be a member of the Royal Family, and therefore not applicable to full Carena law.”
“And does your father know about this?” I asked, hoping I was going to get some help from that quarter. My argument of trying to run away from this betrothal would be a lot easier if his father was against our union.
“Of course he does.”