Chapter Eight
Niki was furious. Bad enough that such a repulsive message was sent to him, but for it to menace Roberta too…
He strode back and forth in his aunt’s elegant drawing room as Freddie repeated what had been in the letter.
The heart had been in separate packaging, addressed to Niki but without a note inside.
“He—I am assuming it is a ‘he’—warned you against marrying her. You can’t have her, she is mine, etcetera, etcetera.”
Niki stopped and stared. “She is mine? I thought this was about me, sent by someone who wishes me harm?”
Freddie pulled a face. “That was what we thought at first. A bloody heart does seem to suggest that. Perhaps there is more to it.”
“This makes no sense,” Niki muttered. “I don’t like it. And I don’t like that someone is talking about Roberta as if he owns her when she is mine.”
Freddie hesitated, as if the words had taken him by surprise, before carrying on in his confident way. “Never fear, sir, we will get to the bottom of it. And there are extra men guarding her house. If this person decides to send us another package, we will catch him in the act.”
“And in the meantime?” Niki demanded.
“In the meantime, we watch and listen.”
Niki sat down at last on a brocade-covered chair, feeling as if his legs would no longer hold him up. “It was a mistake to enter into this agreement, this false engagement. It is dangerous, and I knew it, and still I did it.”
Freddie sat down opposite him. He looked alarmed. “No, it wasn’t a mistake. It was a way to keep you safe, and I assure you I will not let anything happen to you. As for Roberta, she is the sister of one of my oldest friends, and if I had to, I would give my life for hers.”
Niki searched the other man’s eyes and decided he was telling the truth. It went some way to calming his nerves.
There was a tap on the door, and when it opened, Matilda stood there. She was still wearing her finery from tonight’s celebration, but she had lost her vivacity. Her worried eyes found Niki and then moved on to Freddie.
“What a terrible thing,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Mr. Hart, you must catch whoever is threatening my nephew and his lovely fiancée.”
Freddie had risen to his feet and bowed. “Have no doubt I will do so, Lady Matilda.”
“I feel better for your reassurance,” she said, hand on her heart. “Niki, you should go to bed. It has been a long day, and tomorrow will probably be just as long.”
Niki opened his mouth to tell her he was not a child, and then thought better of it. “I will go shortly,” he promised. “Hart and I have a few more things to discuss.”
She looked from one to the other, and then smiled and closed the door quietly behind her.
“Have you any idea at all who might be behind the attempt on my life? I do not think it is the same person who sent the letter. The package I am not so sure about.”
Freddie gave him a look that seemed to hold genuine respect.
“Ah, yes. Although they arrived together, that does not mean they are from the same hand. Either way, this person or persons need to be captured. I have been in contact with your chamberlain, who believes he might be onto something. He named a group of rogues who think you are the wrong choice for leader. He is planning to raid their lair, and we should know more after that.”
“Francis is a good man.” Niki knew this to be true.
“Yes, he seems to have your best interests always in mind. My question though is how whoever shot at you here in London escaped without detection. I have had my people asking questions in lodging houses and hotels, looking for anyone with a foreign accent. Of course, there were many—London is a melting pot—but so far, no one from Holtswig. Does that mean they have supporters here in Great Britain? Englishmen, perhaps?”
“Do most English even know where Holtswig is?” Niki asked, not entirely joking. “The problems of our small country seem hardly relevant to your people.”
“And yet we have problems too. Unrest. Disaffection. Many are unhappy with our current social structure and would like it changed. It is possible that individuals in our two countries have found mutual ground and decided to target you.”
Niki supposed it was possible, but it seemed unlikely to him. This felt like a homegrown affair.
“Do as your aunt suggests, sir, and get some sleep,” Freddie said quietly. “I will keep you updated with any news.”
On his way out, he almost ran into Matilda. She was carrying a tray with coffee cups and a pot on it, and some sandwiches. She looked flustered when she saw him. “I thought Mr. Hart might like something to lift his spirits,” she explained.
“I’m sure he will be grateful,” Niki said, but he was smiling as he climbed the stairs to his bedchamber. His aunt and Freddie Hart? Or was she simply being kind? At least it gave him something to think about other than his own problems.
At the top of the stairs, a shadow moved and startled him into a ripe Holtswigger curse, before his young cousin stepped into the lamplight.
“Apologies,” Tomas said, though he didn’t sound apologetic. Then, curiously, “What did you say?”
“None of your business,” Niki retorted. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He sounded like his aunt, and Tomas acted just as he had wanted to.
“I’m not a child,” he said angrily. “Everyone treats me like one.”
“Sixteen seems like a child to me.” Niki regretted his lack of diplomacy as soon as he spoke. There was no need to put the boy’s back up.
“I should be stepping into my father’s shoes,” Tomas blurted out, as if he had been brooding over this for some time, and Niki happened to be the lucky recipient. “School is just a waste of time. But my mother will not listen; she never listens.”
“Matilda knows what is—”
“Best for me?” the boy interrupted. “Did your mother know what was best for you?”
Niki stiffened. “Be careful, Tomas. I might take offense.”
Tomas sneered. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anyone.”
“You should be.”
“Why? I think it is you who should be afraid, Niki. Someone is trying to kill you. Everyone is very worried they will succeed.”
Niki was tired, but at that, his mind woke up. Was Tomas threatening him? Surely not. He was a boy!
“I trust they will not succeed,” he said evenly. “What do you think would happen if they did?”
Tomas stared at him a moment and then dropped his eyes. “I suppose I would have to become ruler of Holtswig,” he said. “I could do it,” he added sincerely. “I know I could.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“I’d have to live in Holtswig though,” the boy added with distaste before, with a doubtful look at Niki, he turned and walked away.
And what was he supposed to make of that? Was it a threat or was Tomas simply venting? Niki groaned softly. He now had enough to think about to keep him awake all night.