The Royal Rogue (Tales of Lilleforth #3)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

T he meeting took place in the same unused cottage just before dawn. Leo leaned his arse against the edge of the rickety table and pinched the bridge of his nose when he heard the news that someone on their staff was probably in cahoots with their would-be assassin and they’d be leaving for Koroslova the following day.

Or as Felix so eloquently put it, “Well, fuck.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Leo said soothingly, running a hand down his husband’s arm in the dim morning light. “Evan will take care of it. He’s excellent at ferreting out information.” But his creased brow and grim expression told Evan all too clearly that he was more worried than he was saying.

Felix wrapped his arms around Leo’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “You promise?”

“Promise,” Leo said, kissing Felix’s cheek. “We don’t come back until it’s safe. I won’t risk you for anything.”

“It’s you I worry about,” Felix said. “I don’t think I could cope if anything?—”

“Very touching,” Evan interrupted from where he was sprawled in the single battered armchair. “Now can we talk about your travel arrangements? I’d like to send a full contingent of guards but that might look suspicious, and of course we suspect that at least one of them can’t be trusted, given the existence of the map. I’ll have Thomas choose six faithful men and that will have to do.”

“Speaking of Thomas, where is he?” Felix asked. “I thought you were working together.” He narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t had a lovers’ tiff already, have you?”

“No, we haven’t had a bloody lovers’ tiff,” Evan snapped. Felix’s comment had his hackles rising for reasons he couldn’t quite define. He suspected it was the implication that Evan was somehow incapable of keeping Thomas happy, which was ridiculous. He was perfectly capable, thank you, and Thomas had been more than satisfied—so happy, in fact, that his normally stoic facade had cracked and his eagerness to return had been written all over his big handsome face even before Evan had asked him to come back. “If you must know, he’s on early patrol. And we are working together. He’s going to keep an ear open around his men to see if anyone lets something slip.”

“Interesting that you didn’t deny you are lovers,” Felix said with a grin.

“We have an arrangement,” Evan hedged, examining the flagstones of the cottage floor.

“Funny,” Leo chimed in. “I thought you didn’t take lovers, but here you are.”

“I don’t—we’re not—” Evan’s mouth shut with a snap, and he blinked—because Leo was right .

Evan didn’t take lovers. Evan had flings. He’d had fun dalliances, very occasionally, that weren’t related to extracting information, but up until now there had never been anything more. The risk was too great.

Except with Thomas, it wasn’t.

Thomas already knew the secret that mattered—that Evan and the Rogue were one and the same—and he didn’t care. In fact, if anything, he was positively enamoured with the idea. And Evan knew instinctively that he could trust him, and that Thomas would have his back should the need arise. He’d proven that already.

The man was clever and witty and physically imposing in ways that made Evan weak at the knees, and the very idea of ending their arrangement, even though they’d barely started it, made his stomach twist up into knots in a way it hadn’t since the first time he’d pushed a man off a bridge.

Oh .

It was possible, he conceded, that he might hold more than just casual affection for his captain. And another thing—when, exactly, had Thomas become his captain?

Fine. They were lovers—or at the very least, lover-adjacent. His stomach did that twisty thing again, but this time it filled him with a warm, pleasant sensation that took him a moment to identify as happiness.

He tucked the jumble of feelings aside to examine later when less lives were at risk. Honestly, this was the worst possible time for his emotions to make themselves known.

Evan ran a hand through his hair and pushed up out of the armchair, brushing the dust off the old cloak he was wearing. “Whether Thomas and I are lovers isn’t important right now. What is important is getting you both to Koroslova, then figuring out who wants you dead and killing them first.”

“Were you a violent child, Evan?” Felix asked, wrinkling his nose.

“No,” Evan said.

“Yes, you were,” Leo said. “You pushed me off my throne when we were children.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Firstly, nobody saw me, so it never happened. Secondly, it wasn’t your throne yet. And thirdly, you were incredibly annoying, and you probably deserved it.”

Felix looked between them and his face split in a wide grin. “I’d believe it. I mean, he’s still annoying.”

“Brat,” Leo muttered, but his expression was fond.

“Your brat,” Felix said, still grinning. “Now, shall we go and make arrangements for our travel?”

A s Thomas had predicted, the royal couple’s sudden decision to travel threw the entire castle into chaos, and Evan felt sorry for the army of servants who, upon hearing the news, let out a collective sigh before setting about doing all those necessary things that had to be done in order for the royal couple to travel.

And there were so many things that needed to be done. There were horses to be tended, clothing suitable for Koroslova’s colder climate to be packed, guards to be chosen for the journey and outfitted for the cold, and that was the least of it. Thomas had been right—same-day travel would have been an impossibility.

Quite apart from all that, the last visiting dignitaries needed to be informed that their stay was at an end. Given that the talks were well and truly over and the king and his husband would no longer be in residence, there was no excuse for them to remain.

Evan happily volunteered to deliver the news.

Dressed in a deep purple coat and soft lilac trousers and armed with a glass of red wine and a vague expression, he meandered up to the guest wing. He took a petty glee in waltzing into the bedrooms of any lingering visitors shortly after dawn and acting shocked to see them still in their beds, saying, “Oh, haven’t you left yet? The king won’t like that. He was determined to see you all gone before luncheon.” It was highly entertaining to see their mouths drop open in shock. He let them gasp out their protests that they hadn’t been told before asking, “Did I not tell you last night?”

He made a show of apologising for forgetting to pass on the king’s request, and the guests all assured him it was fine. They rolled their eyes as they arranged their departure and grumbled under their breath about what a fool he was, but Evan wasn’t bothered by their muttered insults. After all, it was exactly the impression he’d wanted to leave. He made a point of lingering in the area, offering to help pack their bags and generally making a nuisance of himself, and his presence had the desired effect. By late afternoon, the last three visitors had been firmly ejected.

He made sure to flash a bright smile at the ambassador for Falsmark as the man’s luggage was being carried down the stairs. “Such a shame you can’t stay! We could have had more drinks!”

Marchesi’s mouth became a thin line and he stormed down the stairs without bothering to reply. Evan couldn’t help but feel that he was more annoyed than his enforced departure warranted—almost as if he’d had plans that had been thwarted.

He followed the ambassador out into the courtyard and lingered as the man’s trunks were loaded into two coaches, then gave a happy wave as they rumbled through the gates. The ambassador did not return it.

He hurried up to the ambassador’s vacant rooms and searched them thoroughly while the staff were otherwise occupied, but just as he’d suspected there was nothing to find.

There was no dinner in the main dining room that night, with Leo and Felix opting to eat in the kitchen to make Cook’s life easier. Evan joined them, glancing around the room. Thomas’s height made him unmissable, and Evan spotted him easily. He was seated at one of the long tables with his back to Evan, talking with his men.

Just the sight of his broad shoulders and messy blond hair made something in Evan settle. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there was another person keeping their eyes and ears open. Evan was so used to working alone that it was still strange to think that he wasn’t carrying the fate of the king solely on his own shoulders.

Strange, but reassuring.

He was tempted to slip out of his seat, wander over and sling his arm around Thomas’s shoulders, and invite him upstairs—he was sure word of their affair must have spread after their display at the dinner the other night—but just as he prepared to slide his chair back from the table, Thomas tilted his head back and let out a massive yawn. Evan was reminded that while he might have spent the day making a pest of himself to the guests and hanging around the place, Thomas had been working and training his men all afternoon.

In fact, Evan had taken time out of his pestering to just drink in the sight of Thomas instructing his newer troops in the proper use of a sword. Thomas had worked as hard and sweated as heavily as any of his men as he thrust and parried and taught them how to defend themselves. He was impressive with a blade, and the sight of him shirtless and gleaming with sweat, shoulders flexing as he swung a broadsword, was unfairly arousing. Evan could picture it clearly, and he had no doubt that once he retired for the night, he’d picture it again—this time with a hand wrapped around his cock.

For now, he ate his dinner in relative silence, stealing quick glances over at Thomas in between bites and hoping against hope that his captain would approach him. It was all too easy to imagine him striding across the kitchen, scooping Evan up in those muscular arms and throwing him over one shoulder, then carrying him up the stairs and tipping him into a bed before ravishing him—preferably twice.

But of course, that was never going to happen. It was one thing for a duke to ignore protocol and dally publicly with the Captain of the Royal Guard but another thing altogether for Thomas to be the one making advances. That would be unheard of.

No, Evan would be going to bed alone tonight.

He sighed and pushed his chair back from the table, affecting a yawn. “Do you know,” he said, “watching everyone rushing about today has me quite exhausted.” He drained the glass of wine he’d been nursing and stood. “Remind me again, what was all the fuss over?”

Felix said, “The king and I are leaving tomorrow, remember?”

Evan let a look of confusion wash over him, aware that the rest of the table was watching, and gave a bright smile. “So you are! To see Vasily’s family in Koro… slova?”

Vasily gave him an encouraging nod from where he was sitting next to Felix.

“I nearly lost my left bollock to the cold there once,” Evan stated. “There was a lovely young man, and a field, and we were too busy to notice when the snow started, and—anyway, make sure you wrap up well.”

Felix did a creditable job of keeping a straight face. “My bollocks?”

“Well, all of you, but your dangly bits especially.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

Leo burst out laughing. “Never change, Evan.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He leaned over and stole a slice of cake from Leo’s plate and strolled out the door and up the stairs to his room.

He had nearly lost his left bollock in Koroslova, but it had been in a knife fight. The blade had come unnervingly close, and he would have much preferred the story about bedding a young man in a snow-covered field to be true. He would also have much preferred to be bedding a certain muscular captain tonight, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

When he reached his rooms, he shrugged into a sleep shirt. The lamps were lit and a fire burned low in the hearth, yet when he climbed into bed he still shivered. He told himself it was all the talk of cold weather and snow, but deep inside he knew the truth.

He missed his big, comforting bear of a captain, pure and simple.

He tossed and turned and even climbed out of bed to stoke the fire higher, but it didn’t help, and it was a long time before he fell into a thin, uneasy sleep.

T he following day was yet another flurry of activity, but by early afternoon the coaches were loaded and ready to go.

As he crossed the courtyard, Evan caught sight of Thomas leading a contingent of six guards toward the stables. He knew that Thomas would have chosen men who were all handy with a weapon, which reassured him. Not that Evan thought their fighting skills would be needed, but it was good to be prepared, and their presence would give pause to any would-be attackers on the road. Leo was as well protected as he could be—and that was without taking Felix into account.

The prince consort was a skilled fighter in his own right and fiercely protective of his husband. Evan pitied anyone who was foolish enough to threaten the king while Felix was nearby.

Still, there was an itch at the back of Evan’s skull, a voice that whispered he was missing something.

He knew from experience that whatever it was, prodding at it would do no good, so he set his concerns aside to examine later, found himself a glass of wine, and let his feet carry him along the path that led to the stables. When he got there, he found that Leo and Felix were almost ready to depart. He made a show of stumbling over thin air and put out a hand to steady himself on a wooden rail. He squinted up at Leo on horseback and said, “Are you going somewhere?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “I told you yesterday, Evan. We’re visiting King Alexei in Koroslova for a while. The cooler weather will make a pleasant change.”

“Oh! I suppose I’ll stay here until you’re back, then. I can look after… things,” Evan said, raising his glass in a clumsy gesture at the castle and spilling wine over his hand. He licked it off absently.

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Don’t start any wars while we’re gone.”

“I won’t,” Evan assured him with a bright smile. “I’m not even sure how that would happen.”

“That’s less reassuring than you think,” Leo said. He looked about and his expression brightened. “Oh, excellent, the guards are ready!”

There was the clatter of hooves as the six mounted guards rode up, and Leo and Felix joined them. The party headed towards the courtyard at the front of the castle where Vasily and Mother Jones were waiting alongside a procession of carriages that contained everything they’d need for their trip.

Evan watched them leave, fighting the urge to mount his horse and follow along. He needed to trust Thomas’s choice of guard and that his cousin was in good hands, and concentrate on finding out which of the staff had been sharing the new guard formations and why. It could well have been an innocent mistake—someone making a note for their own reference and dropping the paper—except why, then, had the Viscount of Calthrope kept it? And why did the ambassador for Falsmark have a second copy? Was it so they could let somebody in… or was it so somebody could get out?

Not knowing had him unsettled in ways he couldn’t quite define. Evan had been doing this for a long time, so he was confident he could find the source of the information, persuade them to tell him who was behind the whole plot, and eliminate the threat.

He’d rest easier when he had, that was all.

A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He whirled to find Thomas standing there. “You move far too quietly for a big man,” Evan grumbled as he waited for his heart to stop racing. “I should hear someone your size coming a mile away.”

“You’re not the only stealthy one,” Thomas said, looking far too pleased with himself. He nodded in the direction of the departing coaches, the sound of the wheels rattling over the cobblestones fading as the procession became a speck in the distance before disappearing from view. “I’ve sent men who I trust are loyal, and they know what they’re about in a fight. I don’t expect they’ll be needed, but it’s better to be prepared.” He turned to face Evan. “So, this might seem like a stupid question, but how exactly do you intend to catch Marchesi plotting if he’s no longer here?”

“That’s actually a very clever question,” Evan said, and the tension he’d been carrying eased at the reminder that he wasn’t doing this alone. “And I don’t need to catch him. I’ll find whatever lackey did that drawing and terrify them into telling me what I need to know. And once I’m certain he’s behind all this, I’ll pay our friend the ambassador a visit.”

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that,” Thomas said drily.

“I can say with great certainty that he won’t remember it at all.”

“You know, I don’t know how I didn’t realise you were a trickster before this,” Thomas said. “It’s obvious that nobody could be as stupid as you pretend to be.”

Evan tensed and glanced around them to see if anyone was listening, but the courtyard was deserted, the staff having scattered with the departure of the royal entourage. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted by that comment.”

“Let’s say flattered that you act the part so well,” Thomas said, the corners of his mouth tilting up.

Evan was struck with the urge to kiss the smirk off his face, and he wondered briefly if anyone would notice if they disappeared for the remainder of the afternoon. But before he could suggest it, Thomas said loudly, “Cook has made it known that it’s a cold supper tonight, Your Grace.”

Evan’s brow creased in confusion, but a second later he heard the tread of boots on the cobblestones and turned to find two of the younger guards approaching.

“Excuse me, Captain,” the younger one—Sam, if Evan remembered correctly—said.

“What is it, Sam?”

Sam fidgeted, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Only, you know we’ve all been working all those shifts?”

“If you mean doing extra guard duty to get the hang of it while you’re in training, what about it?” Thomas said, crossing his arms across his solid chest in a way that made his forearms bulge.

Sam bit his lip. “Well, some of us were wondering if we could, um, take a day off tomorrow?”

Evan expected Thomas to deliver a straight no and a bollocking for even daring to ask, but his captain surprised him.

“Tell me why I should give you a day off,” Thomas said, “and I might consider it.”

Sam’s mouth opened and closed and he exchanged an uncertain glance with his companion, but then he squared his shoulders, jutted out his chin, and said, “Well, we’re the Royal Guard. And now that His Majesty and His Highness aren’t here, there’s no royals to guard, is there?”

He looked so young and hopeful that Evan found himself hoping Thomas would agree with Sam.

Thomas hummed under his breath, and after making the young men wait for what seemed an age, he flashed Sam a smile. “You’re right—almost. Because you showed me you can use your brain and gave me a good reason, I’ll allow the guards a day off. But bear in mind that even though the king and his husband aren’t here to be guarded, you did forget that the Duke of Ravenport is also a member of the royal family.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he gave a hurried half bow in Evan’s direction. “Apologies, Your Grace! I didn’t mean to forget you!”

On seeing Sam’s stricken expression, Evan took pity on him and waved a lazy hand. “It’s fine. Everyone forgets about me. Some days even I forget about me.” He didn’t add that his invisibility was by design. “What will you do with your day off?” he asked, in an effort to reassure Sam that he wasn’t offended.

Sam’s cheeks flushed. “Some of the lads want to go to the tavern in town and, um. Meet new friends.”

Well, that was code for wanting a quick fuck if ever Evan had heard it.

“I’ve heard there’s a place two streets back from the docks that's very good for finding friends,” Evan said with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s the one, sir.” Sam wrinkled his nose. “There’s one man there who doesn’t like to take no for an answer, though. Darcy and me might stay back here.”

“That’s a wise choice,” Thomas said. “Now go and spread the word that tomorrow is a day off, and that I’ll take care of the duke.”

Sam’s face lit up with a grin that was brighter than a hundred candles. “Yes, Captain! Thank you, Captain!”

And with that he was off running toward the barracks, hand in hand with his companion.

“They’re fucking, aren’t they?” Evan said, watching them depart.

“Sam and Darcy?” Thomas smirked. “If they aren’t, they will be by the end of the week. I’m pretending I haven’t noticed.”

Evan turned and leaned into Thomas’s side. “Speaking of fucking…”

“Yes,” Thomas said before Evan had even had a chance to invite him back to his rooms.

“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

Thomas glanced around the now empty courtyard and slipped an arm around Evan’s waist in a way that suggested he wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He pulled him close and said in a low voice, “You were going to ask if I still wanted to go back to your rooms tonight. The answer’s yes.”

Arousal stirred in Evan’s belly, and since he’d never been shy about asking for what he wanted, he pressed up on his toes and nipped at Thomas’s earlobe before murmuring, “Will you pin me to the bed and take me apart, Captain?”

Thomas replied in a low, dangerous growl that sent a shiver of excitement racing through Evan.

“ Yes .”