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Silence met his declaration. Which he assumed was an invitation to continue. “I’ve important information for the queen.” The carriage had drawn to a stop, and he opened the door, stepping out onto the street. “It’s vital I see her.”

“Hold,” one of them called and Bennet stopped, his hands out as he waited. Minutes passed until finally a voice said, “The queen will see you first thing in the morning.”

Bennet winced. “We’re in need of an escort.”

“Of course, my lord,” a guard responded.

Bennet turned to Dillan, who leaned out the door of the carriage. “Where should we go?”

Rebecca pacedthe Duke of Durham’s well-appointed guest room. She’d met the man briefly at Dillan’s wedding along with his stunning wife, who insisted that Rebecca called her Mona.

The bed looked exceedingly comfortable, with piles of lush coverlets and pillows. But she’d not been able to settle long enough to relax in the large four-post bed. Her hands covered her stomach.

Was Bennet all right?

If Shipley had tried to detain her, did that mean he knew Bennet was alive? Was Bennet in danger at this very moment?

What if she’d found him only to lose him again?

That last thought stole her breath. She’d been so busy being angry at him that she’d not considered what a gift it was to have him back or how she would feel if she lost a future with him a second time.

Could she withstand the loss of him again? Her throat closed as she choked back a cry. Rebecca couldn’t stand the thought.

She spun, pacing again, as she closed her eyes. She was beginning to understand the real danger he’d been protecting her from for the last three years. All this time…he’d been taking care of her. What was more, had she further endangered him by insisting on helping his investigation?

Realization settled in her stomach like lead, pulling her down to the floor. She sat in the middle of the room, her hands coming to her eyes. What if he was hurt? Dead?

The distant sound of marching feet brought her head up again. Like a puppet suddenly having its strings pulled, she rose, sprinting to the window that overlooked the front of the house. In the distance, she could just make out a carriage, and surrounding it, palace guards.

She gasped, pulling her house coat tighter as she raced for the door, heedless of the fact that she was in a stranger’s home. At the grand stair, she was met by Alexi, Mona, the duke, and Dillan’s youngest sister, Laurel.

The three women could not have appeared more different: Alexi was a pixie-like blonde, while Mona was a classic beauty with red hair, and Laurel… Laurel’s dark hair and pearl skin made her the loveliest of creatures.

“Is it them?” Durham asked, his deep voice matching his impressively dark stature.

“I believe so,” she answered. “Escorted by the palace guards, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Hell’s bells,” he muttered. “Dillan was right to bring you ladies here.”

Mona nodded. “We should tell Charlotte what is happening, as well. She might be of service.”

Rebecca nodded her agreement though the words hadn’t been directed at her. Charlotte was an amateur sleuth, though she’d helped the New Police on more than one occasion.

She started down the stairs as the butler swung open the massive oak-paneled door, not even making it halfway when Bennet and Dillan appeared, looking exhausted but whole.

She cried out, running the rest of the way down the stairs.

Bennet set down the items he carried; she hardly registered that one of them was exactly like the crates they’d seen at the warehouse.

Instead, she launched herself into his arms. He easily caught her, pulling her against his body as his arms wrapped her in a fierce hug. “You’re all right.”

“So are you,” she mumbled into his shoulder. Tears pricked at her eyes again, but these weren’t tears of sadness or confusion but of joy. “Thank the Lord.”

Next to her, both Alexi and Laurel ran to embrace Dillan. She turned her head to see him half stumble back at the force of their embrace, a smile touching her lips.

“Have you slept at all?” Bennet asked, close to her ear.

She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. We’re all safe. That is what’s important.”


Tags: Tammy Andresen Historical