Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(152)

“Don’t you see?” she exclaimed, barely able to keep from shaking him. “It might be too late by then. They’ll be leaving England by the end of the week, and then what could Dominic possibly do? Anything could happen to Stephen!”

She had to turn away. A thousand horrible possibilities swarmed through her brain, overwhelming her, breaking her down.

“Sweetheart, please don’t do this,” Griffin said with a sigh, coming up behind her. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

When he tried to grasp her waist, she whirled around, pushing him away.

“It won’t be fine,” she snapped. “Nothing will ever be fine again.” And before he could say another word, she fled to the baby’s room.

Her husband didn’t follow.





In Green Park, Justine strode along the path, shivering inside her heavy wool pelisse. It was a blustery February morning, too cold and too early for any but the hardiest of souls to be doing anything more than cutting through the park on the way to somewhere else. That was a bit of good luck, since she’d already paced this same path three times. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention.

She had to resist the impulse to again check the pocket watch she’d stowed in her reticule. It was lacking a few minutes until ten o’clock and still her mysterious correspondent hadn’t appeared. The instructions in the letter she’d received by the Twopenny Post this morning had been explicit—be on this particular path by nine forty-five. The brief missive had warned that Stephen’s life was in danger, and that the correspondent was a friend who wished to help. Justine was certain the friend had to be the veiled woman who’d left the baby on Griffin’s doorstep.

Her steps slowed as her husband’s image intruded on her thoughts. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday when she’d left him standing in her bedroom after their argument. Although on some logical level Justine could understand Griffin’s position, she knew his instincts regarding the baby’s danger matched hers. But he was determined to ignore those instincts, just as Dominic ignored his. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold back a profound sense of betrayal. The two men she trusted most had refused to listen to her, and had placed an innocent child at risk.

Griffin’s actions cut even deeper than Dominic’s. Not only had he rejected her plea to help Stephen, he’d rejected her, too. He hadn’t sought her out to apologize, either last night or this morning. She could almost forgive that, putting it down to his stubborn male pride, but she couldn’t forgive that he refused to listen to her when it came to the baby’s welfare. His decision had left her numb, and wondering what it said about their future together.

She was very much afraid they no longer had one.

Justine stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. For now, nothing mattered but the baby, and she could only pray that her mysterious correspondent could give her the help she needed.

She was about to check her watch again when a slender woman, dressed simply but elegantly in a dark green pelisse, turned into the path and hurried toward her. Her gaze fastened directly on Justine and never wavered.

Justine stood quietly, carefully observing the woman as she came up to her. Topping Justine by several inches, she had a slender, elegant figure and a graceful stride. She moved with purpose and economy. Her clothes were well made but lacking in embellishment and her auburn hair was pulled back in a simple coiffure and covered by a neat, rather than fashionable, hat. She would draw little notice in a crowd, Justine had thought, until the woman stood before her.