The Royal Rogue (Tales of Lilleforth #3)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

E van liked to solve his problems in the bath.

He had long ago learned that chasing too hard after the answer to a question often led to it slipping from his grasp, but circling round, slowly and carefully, then casually sidling up to the solution usually worked best—and what better place to think than while having a nice, relaxing soak? So the first thing he did upon his return to the castle was order a bath brought to his room. He sank into the tub with a sigh of relief, the stiffness in his back and hips from Thomas’s lumpy mattress easing as the hot water worked its magic. He’d known falling asleep in that terrible bed was a bad idea, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave the captain’s side.

And even as he arched his back, the knots popping along his spine, he found he didn’t regret it. Thomas had lived up to every one of his expectations. And honestly, it had been worth a little discomfort just for the experience of throwing that knife and getting to see Thomas catch it with inhuman speed. Evan’s cock stirred at the memory, but he ignored it for now.

He needed to concentrate on finding out who was threatening the king and then remove the threat. Once that was taken care of, he could daydream about his big, burly guard and his thick thighs and thicker cock to his heart’s content. For now he closed his eyes and sank down into the bathtub, inhaling the herb-scented steam and letting his mind drift.

He turned what he knew so far over in his mind, idly examining it from all angles and hoping against hope that there would be a moment when all the pieces slotted together tidily and told him what he wanted to know. But by the time the water had started to cool, he had to admit that as far as solid evidence went, they had very little.

Calthrope and the hemlock.

Two scribbled drawings of a dodgy cock and balls.

An ambassador who Evan distrusted on instinct but who hadn’t actually said or done anything incriminating—apart from being outside Evan’s rooms last night.

Evan sighed and sat up, reaching for the soap. Lathering up the washcloth, he cleaned himself quickly and climbed out of the tub. At least the crick in his neck and the stiffness in his hips had abated.

He dressed and took himself down to the kitchens for breakfast and then spent the morning meandering around the castle, looking for all the world like he didn’t have a thought in his head. Nobody paid him any heed as he listened in on the conversations of various palace staff, and why would they? He was a duke, yes, but at the same time he was a nobody, and as such there was no need for anyone to guard their words around him.

He learned that Vasily, the Koroslovan prince who was also the ambassador, was planning a trip home with Mother Jones, his husband. He discovered through the grumbling of a cluster of guards that the ambassador for Falsmark apparently had no intention of leaving any time soon. The guards were placing the blame for the extra hours they were still working squarely on the last few guests who had refused to take the hint and go home.

Despite his best efforts, though, he didn’t hear anything that might help him find out who was behind the threat to the crown, or even who the would-be assassins were targeting. His money was still on the king, although the crown prince was also a possibility.

By the time evening rolled around he was forced to admit defeat. He hadn’t even managed to search the ambassador’s room—the man hadn’t made an appearance all day, asking for his meals to be sent to his room and claiming illness. He might have been nursing a hangover, but Evan suspected that the man knew he was under suspicion and was lying low. It was what he would have done in the same situation.

Evan disliked admitting defeat. It felt a little too much like living up to his reputation as a simpleton. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t find the key that would unlock this whole mystery.

He went back to his own chambers after supper in something of a sulk. He hadn’t seen Thomas all day, although he’d heard him shouting at his new recruits and putting them through their paces while he was lingering near the training yards and listening to the other guards grousing.

He ran a hand over his face and pulled out the drawing of a cock and balls and set it on the table. He frowned as he sat down and examined the creased paper. The picture boasted ridiculously oversized balls and had those small circles in odd positions all around the outside, and the cock itself was crude and badly shaped—if Evan’s shaft had curved the way the one in this sketch did, he would have been seeking out a physician—so he could only assume the drawings were someone’s idea of a bit of fun. But if that was the case, why had the Viscount of Calthrope kept the picture on his person? And why did the ambassador have the same sketch?

It made no sense.

Perhaps the ambassador’s tastes ran to a nice bendy dick after all, despite his wife and children. Maybe he really had been coming to Evan’s room to propose a dalliance?

Evan shuddered at the thought and thanked his stars that Thomas had been there, and been willing to go along with his charade—which, it had turned out, was no charade but a genuine attraction. It had resulted in a highly satisfying romp, one which Evan had every intention of repeating.

He’d aimed to miss when he’d thrown that knife at Thomas, because he wasn’t in the habit of stabbing his bedmates. It had been partly a tease, and partly Evan showing off, and he’d been prepared for Thomas to flap and squawk and perhaps mutter threats. But seeing the way Thomas had plucked that knife out of midair without blinking an eye? It had made Evan’s insides melt into a puddle of pure, unfettered lust. Apparently, Evan was weak for a competent man who was good with sharp objects.

Or rather, for one particular man who was good with sharp objects.

Sighing, Evan went back to examining the picture. He was still tracing a fingertip over the curve in the shaft when there was a light tap at the door. He hurried over, arranging his face into an expression of polite confusion just in case it wasn’t Thomas. But when he opened the door his captain stood there, just as solid and reassuring and stupidly attractive as always. He swung the door wide, and Thomas stepped inside. Evan locked the door behind him.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidnapping me?”

Evan laughed. “Please. Like a big, strong bear of a man like yourself couldn’t shoulder that door open in five seconds.”

Thomas’s face creased into a smile at the compliment. “Probably less,” he agreed, rolling his shoulders and flexing his muscles.

“The lock is to keep busybodies out,” Evan said. “We don’t want anyone wandering in and overhearing our business.”

Thomas hummed. “The only person I’ve ever seen wandering into the wrong rooms and overhearing things is you.”

“And that’s the way I’d like it to stay,” Evan said briskly. While he’d come to terms with Thomas finding out who he was, he had no intention of anyone else learning his secrets.

He led Thomas over to the table and they sat down, side by side. Evan tapped a finger against the drawing. “This is the only thing we have that might lead us to our possible victim.”

“You mean our possible killer?”

Evan remained silent and waited for Thomas to catch up.

“Of course,” Thomas said finally. “You’d prefer to deliver a nice, tidy assassination to answering any awkward questions.”

“I’d prefer that nobody was trying to murder my cousin at all,” Evan said pointedly, “but since it seems he has a target on his back, it’s my job to protect him and his husband. If that means somebody ends up with a snapped neck, so be it. I find it far more efficient to take care of a problem as soon as it arises.”

Thomas fixed him with a glare. For a moment Evan wondered if he’d changed his mind about helping after all, struck with a case of belated scruples, but Thomas proved him wrong when he said in a low voice, “It’s my job, actually.”

Evan blinked at him. “What?”

“It’s my job,” Thomas repeated. “As Captain of the Royal Guard, the safety of the king and his husband is my responsibility. I’m prepared to do whatever’s necessary, and if that means breaking a neck or wielding a blade or throwing a body down a staircase, so be it.” He gave a shrug of his massive shoulders. “I didn’t get this job because of my ability to dance a gavotte, Evan.”

Hearing from his own lips that Thomas was not only fiercely loyal but had a pragmatically violent streak should not have lit a fire in Evan’s belly like it did. That didn’t stop his cock twitching at the reminder that despite his reserved demeanour, the captain was a dangerous man. It really should not have made Evan want to bend over the table, drop his trousers, and beg Thomas to take him, please.

Evan took a deep breath and said, “ Our job, then,” fighting the urge to clamber into Thomas’s lap and kiss him until they were both breathless. He gave himself a mental shake and pushed the burst of arousal aside. He hadn’t become the best at what he did by neglecting his duty and leaping into a handsome man’s bed—even if that man was also loyal and clever and had thighs like twin oaks that Evan wanted nothing more than to climb.

With an impressive display of willpower, he turned his attention back to the dick drawing. “I wish I understood this. Is it a joke? A secret signal?”

“You mean like ‘when the cock crows at midnight, attack’ kind of thing?” Thomas said, brow furrowing.

“I don’t think this is the type of that crows,” Evan said, “or attacks. But it might be some sort of code.”

“But what does it say ?” Thomas muttered, the crease between his brows growing deeper as he drew a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and laid the second sketch next to Evan’s. The drawings were strikingly similar, as if the original had been traced over.

Evan reached out and picked one up, turning the picture this way and that. “They’re not even very well drawn. There are all these little marks around the outside.” He ran a finger around the outline, pausing at the sets of two tiny circles set at intervals up the shaft and around the oversized circular shapes that were meant to be the bollocks, and sighed in frustration. He prided himself on being clever yet here he was, stymied by a badly drawn curvy cock. “I hate not knowing things,” he admitted quietly. “It’s literally my only job to know things. If I can’t do that, then I might as well join the regular guard and spend my time leaning against the wall and complaining about the hours.”

“Who’s complaining about their hours?” Thomas asked. “Is it Philip? Because he’s always been a grumbler.”

“I didn’t catch their names, but I overheard a few of the guards earlier today and they’re not all that happy. Having to work extra nights is wearing on them.”

Thomas jerked upright. “Wait. What did you just say?”

“I said they’re not happy having to do extra night shifts. Why?”

Thomas went very still, and Evan could almost see the wheels turning. Then Thomas reached out, picking up one of the drawings slowly and holding it up to the light, and his eyes went wide. “I knew this looked familiar! It’s the extra guards!” He put the paper back down and waved a hand at it. “Usually, we only have a pair on the main gate at night, but since the threat I’ve had two along the walls at intervals and at every possible entry to the castle. See?”

Evan did not see. “Thomas, it’s a drawing of a cock.”

“No, that’s just it!” Thomas ran a broad palm over the paper, smoothing out the creases. “This is a plan of the ground floor of the castle!” He grinned at Evan as one thick finger traced over the lines. “What we thought was the slit is the main gates. See that big oval that looks like a knob? That’s the main courtyard. And the castle itself does follow a slight curve, only you barely notice it because the space is so big. Whoever drew this just made it curvier. Those two giant bollocks? They’re the separate areas that house the kitchens and laundry and the staff quarters at the far end of the castle!”

Evan let out a long breath as he saw what Thomas was saying. “And those little circles are where you’ve posted your extra guards?”

“Exactly.”

For a split second Evan wanted to kiss Thomas for his brilliance, but then his mood plummeted as the implications of what they had discovered hit. Seconds later the smile fell from Thomas’s face, his expression turning grim as he reached the same conclusion. “Someone who’s planning to get in under cover of night needed to know where the guards were posted. And the fact they have this means there’s a spy in my ranks.”

“And it’s not me, for a change.” Evan rubbed a hand over his chin. “But this confirms that Calthrope wasn’t working alone, and that at least one person in the castle is working with whoever is behind this.”

Thomas turned the piece of paper over in his hand like he was gathering the nerve to speak. Evan waited, and finally Thomas said, “It’s not that I doubt your ability to find out who’s behind this, but maybe it’s time the king and his husband went on a trip. For their own safety.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, forearms flexing, like he expected an argument, but Evan was already nodding his agreement. “Excellent idea. Vasily is leaving to visit his family tomorrow morning. Perhaps Leo and Felix can tag along.”

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. “I say this with the greatest respect, but you being an idiot isn’t a total act, is it?”

“What? You said yourself that they should go on a trip. This is perfect!”

Thomas sighed. “Do you have any idea what goes into preparing for a trip?”

“Of course I do!” Evan said indignantly. “I travel all the time!”

“And I’ll wager you give the staff a day’s notice, and when you go to leave, your bags have been packed and your horse is ready, and you ride out the castle gates without giving a second thought to the poor sods who had to do all the work.”

That was closer to the truth than Evan wanted to admit. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” Thomas said slowly, “is that one man travelling is a lot different than the king and his husband going on a trip of indefinite duration. It’s not realistic to expect the staff to have the royal couple ready to travel in half a day. Move the trip until the day after tomorrow.”

Thomas’s commanding tone sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn’t deny the wisdom in what he said. “You’re right, of course. We’ll delay the trip by a day. And once they’re gone, you and I can track down our troublemaker and deal with them in peace.”

Thomas gave the barest ghost of a smile. “You think we’ll be able to do it?”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “There’s a reason that the Rogue is legendary, Thomas. I’ve never failed yet.”

The tense set of Thomas’s shoulders eased the tiniest bit. “Have you really never failed?”

“Hand on my heart, not even once.” Honesty compelled Evan to add, “Well, apart from last week when someone put a knife to my throat and I was forced to conclude my business prematurely.”

Thomas had the decency to look at least slightly shamefaced. “To be fair, a strange man dressed in black was strangling a visiting viscount. I was obliged to intervene.”

Evan grinned. “Honestly, the viscount wasn’t going to tell me anything. You just hastened the inevitable.” He pushed his chair back and stood, scooping up one of the drawings, and strode toward the door. When Thomas didn’t follow, he paused. “Well? Are you coming to break the news to Leo and Felix about their trip?”

Thomas sucked a breath between his teeth and made a seesawing motion with one hand. “They’ve retired early.”

“But they’ll still be awake, surely.”

Thomas gave him a flat look. “They’ve retired early. Even if they are awake, do you want to risk disturbing them in the middle of whatever they’re up to?”

Evan paused, considered what Thomas was saying, and folded the map carefully and tucked it into a pocket. “Perhaps first thing tomorrow then. I’m truly happy Leo has found love. I just don’t want to see it in quite that much detail.”

Thomas let out a snort. “Ironic, seeing as you’ve built your career on being caught in compromising positions.”

“Well, yes, but those positions are designed as a distraction,” he said. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself adding, “Most of the time it’s an illusion anyway.”

Thomas blinked, his mouth opening and closing before he asked, “Really?”

“Really. It’s only occasionally that someone takes my fancy and I bed them. A lot of the time it’s a matter of getting them tipsy, putting them to bed, making a tremendous amount of noise, and telling them the next day how marvellous they were. People are, by and large, stupid. So if someone as dashing and attractive as me tells them they’re the best I’ve ever had, their pride has them believing it.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Dashing and attractive, are you?”

“So people tell me,” Evan said airily. “I’ve heard them. ‘Not a brain to bless himself, but at least he’s attractive.’”

Thomas’s smirk disappeared and he stood suddenly, and two steps had him right in Evan’s space, a wall of tall, rugged muscle that took Evan’s breath away. But his touch was gentle when he reached out and tilted Evan’s chin up, capturing his gaze. “They’re wrong about you being brainless,” he said quietly. “Just because you act the fool doesn’t make it true.”

Evan’s breath caught in his throat and his chest squeezed tight. Thomas was seeing him for who he truly was. “I know,” he said, “but thank you anyway.”

Thomas ducked his head and caught Evan’s mouth in a tender kiss that had his heartbeat fluttering. Evan stood up on his tiptoes and leaned into the kiss, and when Thomas slid his hands down Evan’s back and pulled him close, the heat of the other man’s hands on him had his cock taking an interest. He was reminded once again of how delicious his captain had looked sprawled out naked that morning. All thoughts of maps and kings and plots fell out of his head. The only thing he was interested in right now was getting to see Thomas like that again—and in his own bed this time.

He pulled back from the plush softness of Thomas’s mouth, slightly breathless, and his voice was rough when he said, “Bed?”

Thomas’s face split in a wide smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”