Behind her, she heard the duke and duchess’s footsteps on the marble flooring in the entry. “What happens next?” Durham asked.
“We see the queen tomorrow.” Bennet moved her slightly to one side, even as his lips brushed the top of her head. “We present all the evidence.”
He was going to leave? Face danger again? “Oh, but…”
He looked down at her then. “You’ll be safe here.”
She would. “But you won’t be. Didn’t we promise if the danger was too great—”
“For you. I would give up this investigation in a heartbeat if I thought you were in danger.” His dark eyes stared down at her, pain crinkling them at the corners.
“I won’t live through losing you again,” she whispered softly enough that only he could hear. There was nothing left to say except what came directly from her heart.
His face softened. “The queen’s guard will escort us to and from the palace. I’ll be safe. And then we can run, or we can hide out until Shipley is caught.”
“You’ll stay here. I insist,” Durham rumbled, sounding every inch the duke. “As will Dillan and Alexi.”
Laurel clucked her tongue, the sound so slight Rebecca almost didn’t catch it. “But not me, Your Grace?”
Durham lifted a single brow. “It is implied that you are an extension of your brother.”
She harrumphed, her chin notching up. Clearly, she did not like the idea of being lumped in with her brother. Laurel might look like an English rose, but she obviously had a few thorns, a fact that Rebecca admired a great deal.
“We’ve only got a few short hours before we’re expected back at the palace. I think we should all try to get some rest,” Bennet said as he slid his arm from her back to link her hand in his.
Mona’s brows lifted, but she gave Rebecca a wink. Heat filled Rebecca’s cheeks. Because Mona was right—she had no intention of allowing Bennet to find his own room. He’d stay with her. They had a great deal to discuss and even more to do.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bennet followedRebecca up the stairs, the tiredness that had filled his limbs evaporating.
The sway of her hips never failed to mesmerize him and as he watched her, his blood heated. There had been a change in her tonight. The guard she usually wore around him had disappeared.
What had caused the change—her experiences tonight? Dillan had told him what had happened, but what had Shipley said? Had he frightened her?
Had he said that he’d let the queen handle justice? If that man had hurt her in any way…
But he shook his head, following her down the hall to the last room on the left. She opened the door, stepping to the side for him to follow. He walked into the large room, sliding the crate and papers onto the top of the vanity. “Got a pry bar?”
She laughed. “I left it in my other dressing gown.”
He chuckled too.
Then she opened the drawer in the stand next to the bed and pulled out not one but two knives. “Will either of these work?”
His brows lifted. “My lady.”
She smiled at him. “One on my thigh and the other in my boot.”
“I didn’t feel that the other night.” He moved closer to inspect the two weapons.
“I had it at my waist. It felt appropriate, considering we were spying on criminals.”
The small boot knife wasn’t likely to work on the crate, nor was the slightly larger knife that she kept at her thigh. But at his own waist…
He pulled out the wide, short sword he’d used more times than he cared to admit.
She clucked her tongue. “Outdoing me, I see.”