Exhaling, he slapped his glove, once, twice against his thigh and then put it back on his right hand. He squeezed into the smooth leather, relishing the way the tightness fit around his fingers. Every day he drew a breath was another day he was alive; every time he had a sensation of warmth or contentment, it was soon followed with guilt. Guilt that Lucy would never again experience any of those things, guilt that he was.
“Are you certain you are up to it this time, Ash?”
Ash’s head snapped to attention. He gritted his teeth as his nostrils flared in irritation. “Up to it? When have I ever given you reason to doubt my abilities?”
“Never.” Pierce pulled out two of his pistols and laid them across the seat next to him. “But you’ve also never had to do a retrieval. I fear you’ll shoot every bloke within the woman’s vicinity before even asking the first and most important question.”
“And what’s that?”
“Pardon?” Pierce flicked the blade of his dagger.
“The most important question.”
“Oh, of course. That would be… if we are, in fact, in the right cottage. Wouldn’t do to rescue the wrong damsel and all that. Too messy. We’d have to kill her to silence her, and I do hate having such beautiful blood on my hands.”
“Sentimental poet.” Ash smirked. “Fine. I promise not to shoot anyone or anything until we ask the question.”
“And after?”
Ash sighed. “I must be allowed to shoot something.” If he didn’t, the constraint might drive him mad. He’d been sitting in the same blasted carriage for days now. Who knew it took so long to escape to Scotland?
“Shoot a tree.”
“A tree? Be quick about reminding me why I brought you on this mission again.”
Pierce shrugged. “Because you need someone who has the social skills of a gentleman.”
“And what do I have?”
“That of an ass,” Pierce said happily and then added, “The donkey, not an actual ass, you get my meaning.” He chuckled happily. “Now, is there anything else I need to know about this damsel? She’s Russian? Escaping her horrid family in hopes to marry into the peerage? What else?”
Giving a shake of his head, Ash spread his hands. “I was told nothing more than to retrieve her and the guard and bring them into London.”
“Guard?”
“Yes, guard. As in, she has a Royal Guard who remains loyal. My guess is they will be extremely difficult.”
“Lovely.” Pierce placed his dagger on the seat next to his pistols. “All accounted for. Now, let us be quick about this. I have a saucy wench waiting for me at The Beast’s Scottish estate.”
“I doubt the Royal Prince of Maskylov would approve of your behavior under his roof.”
“The Beast is currently rotting in London.” Pierce picked at a piece of lint on his trousers and shrugged. “Besides, I like to have my appetite sated before I travel for days on end with a beautiful woman.”
Ash snapped to attention, bringing his head up almost painfully to regard the other man. “How do you know she’s beautiful?”
Pierce shrugged and then grinned wickedly. “Damsels, my friend, are always beautiful.”
Ash hoped not. The last thing he needed was a self-absorbed princess. He was no nursemaid, and he would rather gouge his own eyes out than cater to a simpering female.
CHAPTER TWO
Hell is sweet deliverance. Heaven… well heaven only reminds me of her smile, and I would rather rot than remember the blood that dripped from her smile in those last moments. Death is what I deserve. What I crave. —The Grimm Reaper
SOFIA SAT DEMURELY BY the window, hoping to draw less attention to the somber mood she was in.
Ten days. It had been ten days since her cousin had sent word to her, and she hadn’t a day more to spare. For one thing, if one more of her Royal Guard asked her if she was feeling down, she was going to not only throttle him but pull out a pistol or perhaps a sword.
She smiled. Yes, a sword sounded much more violent. It was the first smile that dared show itself across her face, and unfortunately, it had everything to do with a pointy metallic object and nothing to do with being actually happy.
Licking her lips, she sunk lower into the comfort of the chair and sighed.
“Princess!” Cornelius shouted loud enough to wake the Prince Regent. “Princess! Show yourself immediately!” Was that a stomp? Did the man now resort to stomping his expensive boots when he was put off by her behavior? With a snort, she sunk lower and closed her eyes. Yes, closing her eyes would do the trick. If she clenched them tight enough, perhaps her Royal Guard would disappear and—
“There you are!” Cornelius shouted. “I have found her! I have found the missing princess!” And now everyone in Scotland was deaf. Lovely. Such a wonderful parting gift to bestow upon the good people.
With a loud and very un-princess-like sigh, she rose from the chair and faced him. To be fair, there wasn’t anything disagreeable about the man. At one and twenty, he had been only too eager to escort her across the country to find an English groom. His black boots were polished to perfection, and his stance was so rigid she wagered she could but blow him a kiss, and he would fall over.
He eyed her with enthusiasm as if he deserved his just reward for braving the halls of the small cottage and waving his pistol in the air. No doubt his arm was sore from having to carry the thing from one end of the room to the next.
“Well done,” she said with a little too much sarcasm. “You have discovered me. Now what is it you need?”
Cornelius smiled triumphantly. “We have visitors.”
“Visitors?” she repeated as she self-consciously reached for the hair that had been shorn not but a few days ago after leaving Russia.
Gone. Her waist–length, black-as-night hair was gone. And in its place, a short cut that, although she was convinced was the style, only came to just below her shoulders, making her feel absolutely naked.
She hadn’t had the time nor the money to bring a lady’s maid. Her escape from her evil stepmother had been planned out within a twenty-four-hour period. The guard left with her were nothing but younger soldiers stupid enough to follow her into exile and strong enough to keep her protected. Though one retired general also traveled with them.
Her hands fell back to her sides as she gave a slight nod to Cornelius. “Show them in.”
“But—”
“Now,” she snapped.