The Duke and the Assassin (The Royal Agents of MI6 Book 1) Read online

  I drove to Moonstone Beach where several inns dotted the shoreline. Most had vacancy signs, so I pulled into the one that looked the least romantic. I hardly needed to come face-to-face with happy lovers.

  I’d just closed the door of the hotel room behind me when my mobile vibrated. I hesitated, praying it was Losha calling to ask me to come back. Instead, I saw the call was from Wilder.

  “Hey, Wild—”

  “Shiver, the duke has slipped into a coma. You need to come home straightaway.”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry I left you to deal with all this, Sutton. I’ll be on the next flight.”

  “You didn’t leave me to deal with anything. I’m his son too.”

  “I know, I didn’t mean—”

  “Do you know where Darrow is?”

  “At the Hay-Adams in DC.”

  “She isn’t there. When I couldn’t reach her by mobile, I called the hotel, and they told me she’d already checked out.”

  “I’ll ring her when we hang up.”

  “Thanks, Shiv.”

  “How’s the duchess?”

  “Not well.”

  When my conversation with Wilder ended, I didn’t ring Darrow; I called Pinch.

  “Before you say anything,” I began, “the duke is in a coma, and I need to make arrangements for Darrow to get back to England as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll handle it, Shiv. We’ll be on the next flight out.”

  I ended the call, not allowing myself to speculate on why Pinch could say definitively that they’d be on the next flight. As long as he got Darrow back to London immediately, I didn’t need to know the details.

  I looked around the room; there hadn’t been time for me to unpack.

  How I wished I hadn’t received the call from Wilder, that my father’s condition hadn’t worsened, and that I didn’t have to leave.

  Foolish as it might be for me to consider what Gunner had said was a possibility, I also wished I had time to see Losha once more before I flew back to England, but I didn’t.

  I’d been able to book a commuter flight to Los Angeles that would give me barely enough time to catch the British Airways flight to Heathrow. For that to work, I needed to leave now.

  14

  Losha

  “Losha? Are you here?” Zary shouted from the front door.

  “Back here.” I wiped away my tears and came out of the bedroom.

  “I was worried…”

  “You saw Shiver leave.”

  “Gunner did. They talked.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Is he gone? Gunner didn’t say.”

  “I believe so.” I tried not to cry, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Oh, Zary, what have I done?”

  She pulled me over to the sofa and put her arm around me. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Could I admit it out loud? Obviously, Zary didn’t believe my lie about Shiver not being the baby’s father.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is he Kazmir’s father?”

  I hadn’t told a single soul. This would be the first time I spoke the words I was so afraid to say.

  “He is.”

  “Why don’t you want him to know?”

  “I have no answer.”

  “It’s obvious you love each other.”

  “I’ve never told him that either.”

  “The man is a spy, Losha. Don’t you think he’s figured it out by now?”

  I smiled. “Maybe when feelings are too close, it’s harder to see.”

  “Mmm. Makes sense.”

  “Do you think he knows about Kazmir? He didn’t act like he did.”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  “He and Gunner talked about it.”

  “What?” I gasped. “What did Gunner tell him?”

  “Nothing. Gunner only guessed. Kazmir does look like him.”

  “We talked about it too. Shiver said he thinks he looks like me.”

  “Both of you.”

  “I see more of Shiver in him than me.”

  Zary smiled. “What are you going to do, Losha?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  “Of course.”

  “Let Gunner and me watch Kazmir tonight. Call Shiver and ask him to come back. Talk it out. Tell him the truth about everything.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “Force yourself.”

  “He’s still napping.”

  “Call me when he wakes up, and I’ll come over and get him.”

  “Thank you, Zary.”

  “You’d do the same for me.”

  My phone sat on the table beside me. All I had to do was reach over, pick it up, and call him. Why was that so difficult?

  I stood and paced near the windows, watching the sun go down on a day I hadn’t dreamed would come this soon.

  In a few minutes, Kazmir would be awake, and I’d have to feed him before Zary came over. If I didn’t call Shiver now, it would be harder once the baby woke. I picked up the phone and pressed the code I’d put in my phone for him—love.

  “Shiver?” I said when the phone stopped ringing but I didn’t hear anything.

  “Yes. Losha?”

  “Is everything okay? You sound—”

  “It’s not, I’m afraid. My father has fallen into a coma. I’m on my way to the airport now.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll let you go.”

  “Wait. Tell me why you called, Losha.”

  “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I had no right…”

  “I see.” He sighed. “Was there anything else?”

  “No, that was all.” I ended the call. The universe had made the decision for me. He was here only a short while, and now he had to leave for who knew how long. It wasn’t the right time to tell him about his son, or how much I loved him and always would.

  “Are you ready for me to come and get Kazmir?” Zary asked when I called.

  “No. It won’t be necessary.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Shiver’s father is in a coma. He had to return to England immediately.”

  “Oh, Losha, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “Hang on. In fact, I’ll call you back.”

  I looked at the phone when the call ended. That was odd. Seconds later, I heard a rap on the front door.

  “No, it isn’t for the best,” Zary said, storming into the living room. “You can’t let this be it, Losha. You have to tell him.”

  “What if this was the universe telling me I shouldn’t?”

  “Do you really believe that nonsense?”

  “Maybe.”

  “The timing is off. After everything has settled down with his father, you two can talk.”

  “We’ll see.”

  15

  Shiver

  “Thornton, thank God you’re home.” My mother held her hand out to me. I bent down and kissed her cheek.

  “How are you holding up, Duchess?”

  “He asked for you, Thornton.”

  I took a step back. “He did? When?”

  “About an hour ago,” said Wilder, walking up behind me. “Go see him, Shiv.”

  I stopped briefly to hug my brother and then went in to see my father.

  Before I left for the States, the duke hadn’t been able to speak. When Wilder called, he said that our father had slipped into a coma. Things must have changed drastically for the better if he’d been able to speak well enough to ask for me.

  When I opened the door to my father’s bedchamber, I didn’t know what I’d expected to see. Perhaps the duke sitting up and demanding someone read him the paper. Instead, he didn’t look any different than he had before I left for the States.

  I sat by my father’s bedside and took his frail hand in mine.

  The duke opened his eyes and turned his head. “Thornton,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you’v
e come.”

  “Of course, Father. I came as soon as Sutton called.”

  “There’s…something…I need…to tell you.” He wheezed more than spoke, struggling for every breath.

  “Go ahead, Father. I’m here.”

  “I…love you…Thornton.”

  “I love you too, Father.”

  “I need…to tell you…”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Matthew…”

  “Matthew?”

  “I’m…sorry…wrong…find him…I need…stop him…before it’s…too late.”

  “Father, who is Matthew?”

  “He’s…he’s…”

  The duke’s eyes closed, and soon he was snoring softly, but I didn’t leave. I’d sit here all night so I’d be here when my father woke again and could tell me who Matthew was and why I had to find him.

  I leaned forward, rested my head on the bedside, and closed my eyes. I was exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. The duke had been ill for so long that it was hard not to consider him passing away a blessing. But hearing him speak, hearing my father tell me he loved me, hearing his voice one more time—I’d do anything to bring the duke back to the way he was before the first stroke. If only I could.

  I felt equally powerless to do anything about the situation with Losha. The entire flight home, I’d mulled over Gunner’s words. Was Kazmir my child? If so, why in the name of God hadn’t she told me? Why had she remained in hiding, particularly from me? That made the least sense. I could understand why she might’ve while United Russia’s bounty was still active, but once it had been released, why hadn’t she contacted me?

  I’d asked myself the same questions again and again over the last twelve hours, and I still had no answers. Only Losha could give those to me, and it wasn’t the kind of conversation we could have over the phone.

  I had to be with her when I asked, looking into her eyes, and most importantly, making sure she didn’t leave again. The thought of her disappearing, taking Kazmir with her, tore at my heart. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.

  But now, I was needed here with my family. The duke needed me, and so did the duchess, Sutton, and Darrow. As hard as it would be, my conversation with Losha would have to wait.

  I raised my head when I thought I felt my father’s hand move.

  Wilder stood next to me. “He’s gone.”

  I looked up at my father’s pale and lifeless body. “No, it can’t be,” I cried. “I’ve been right here.”

  I looked from my father to my brother. “How could I have slept? How could I not know he slipped away?”

  “It’s okay, Thornton,” said my mother. “He was waiting for you so he could say goodbye.”

  My eyes filled with tears, and I rested my head back on the bedside. While I slept, my father died. What kind of man was I?

  “Darrow?”

  “She arrived not long after you. She came in, but didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Why not? Oh, God, how could I have fallen asleep?” I cried again.

  “Thornton, stop this. Your father saw you were here. Your presence gave him the peace he needed to let go of this life and move on to the next.”

  “Duchess,” I said, standing to hug my mother. “I am so very sorry.”

  When I let her go, she bent over to kiss her husband’s brow. “Godspeed, my love,” she whispered.

  My eyes met Wilder’s. Our father was gone, and I’d been asleep when he passed away.

  “Come now,” my mother said, taking each of our hands and leading us from the room.

  When we walked into the hallway, I saw my sister, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Thornton,” she cried, running into my arms.

  “It’s okay, sweet pea. He’s in a better place now. One where he’s no longer in pain, no longer suffering.”

  She pulled back and looked into my eyes. “He smiled at me. I know he did. When I went in to see him, he smiled.”

  “He loved you so much.”

  Wilder rested his hand on my arm. “There are calls to be made.”

  “Right,” I said. “Darrow?”

  “Go ahead.” She wiped away her tears and put her arm through our mother’s.

  I watched them walk down the hallway and into the duchess’ chambers.

  “Wild, did the duke say anything to you about someone named Matthew?” I asked after making sure our mother and sister were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear.

  “Matthew? No. Why?”

  “He was trying to tell me something, but then…”

  “He only said two things to me, Shiv. The first was that he loved me, and the second was to ask for you.”

  “I’m so glad you were able to speak with him one last time, Wild.”

  “I wish Darrow had.”

  “Me too, but it sounds like his smile said everything he couldn’t.”

  Wilder nodded. “We need to call the vicar. He was here earlier. And the undertaker.”

  “Would you like me to call both?”

  Wilder shook his head. “I’ll call the vicar.”

  As I was finishing the call to arrange for funeral services, my mother and Darrow came downstairs and went into the drawing room. Something told me I shouldn’t ask my mother who Matthew was or why my father wanted me to find him.

  “You’re the duke now,” she said when I joined them.

  “Yes, Duchess.”

  “There are responsibilities that go along with the dukedom that I expect you’re ready to take over.”

  “Mother, please,” said Darrow. “Father has just passed.”

  The duchess’ eyes grew heavy. Something more than the duke’s passing troubled her. Could it be related to the mysterious Matthew?

  “A word, Shiver, if you wouldn’t mind,” I heard Pinch say from the main entryway.

  “I’m sorry to hear about the duke. My father asked me to send his condolences,” Pinch said as I walked out of the drawing room.

  “Of course, thank you, and please tell Wellie he’s welcome to come up to the main house. You both are.”

  “I…uh…”

  I followed Pinch’s line of sight to where the duchess stood, scowling at us. I pulled Pinch around the corner.

  “There’s something we need to discuss, but this isn’t the right time,” I told him.

  “Understood.”

  “I’ll come by your father’s place in an hour.”

  “I’ll meet you there, and again, I’m sorry about the duke.”

  I put my hand on Pinch’s shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

  “Hell of a way to start the new year,” commented Wilder, joining us in the hallway.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s New Year’s Day. Hell of a thing.”

  I nodded. It was a hell of a thing.

  “Am I interrupting?” Wilder asked.

  “No. I was telling Pinch there’s something we need to discuss. We’ll meet at Wellie’s cottage in an hour.”

  “I’m off, then.” Pinch turned to leave.

  “I’ll walk you out,” said Darrow, joining us in the entryway and touching Pinch’s arm.

  “What the bloody hell was that all about?” Wilder whispered.

  I shrugged. I had far more to worry about than why Darrow wanted to walk Pinch to his car. I followed my brother back to our mother’s drawing room, where I saw the duchess was still standing near the window.

  “I want you to put a stop to that immediately,” she spat.

  “Duchess?”

  “Darrow and the groundskeeper’s son.”

  “Mother, you can’t be serious,” gasped Wilder. “The groundskeeper’s son? She walked him out. I doubt that means they’ll be announcing their engagement.”

  “You heard me,” she said, glaring at both of us. “I want it stopped.”

  “Yes, Duchess,” I answered, although I had no intention of following through on her demand.

  When Wild turned and looked at me, I shook
my head.

  “Perhaps you’d like to rest. Sutton and I will let you be.”

  “Sutton, if you don’t mind, I’d like a word with your brother.”

  “Certainly,” he answered, looking all too pleased about having an excuse to leave.

  “Sit, Thornton.”

  “Duchess, while I respect you very much, I must insist you remember that I am a human being, not a pet.”

  Rather than apologize as I’d anticipated she would, she folded her arms and stared at me until I took a seat.

  “What is this really about, Mother?”

  “A dalliance between your sister and that boy is something I can’t abide.”

  Dalliance? Boy? I felt as though I’d entered an alternate universe. “Please elaborate, Mother.”

  She looked back out the window.

  “You can’t throw down a gauntlet such as that and walk away, Duchess. Tell me what’s behind this.”

  “It’s unseemly. Isn’t that answer enough?”

  “No, not even close. To begin, who says there’s anything between them other than a lifelong friendship. And Axel, by the way, is a fine person as well as an esteemed member of SIS.”

  “What he does for a living, and even what kind of person you believe he is, has no bearing on this. It needs to stop, and that is my final word on the matter.”

  “I’ll speak with her.”

  “I warn you, Thornton. If it does not, I’ll be forced to tell Mr. Fulton to find another place of employment.”

  “Wellie?”

  She scoffed at my use of the nickname, but nodded.

  If my mother’s behavior wasn’t so extreme, I might’ve thought this was a manipulation designed to prod me into accepting my role as duke.

  “I’ll not allow it, Mother.”

  The duchess paled to the point I worried she might faint.

  “Enough of this shroud of mystery, Mother. Explain this to me.”

  “There is nothing to explain,” she muttered, leaving the room. “And Thorton.” She stepped back inside the doorway. “It’s time you resigned your position with MI6.”

  I grabbed my coat; I needed fresh air and to get away from the oppressive mood of the duchess. Her behavior was baffling. She’d gone from a woman deeply saddened by her husband’s illness and subsequent death to a damn tyrant.