Chapter Eighteen #2
He obeyed. Her delicate fingers brushed against the front placket of his breeches, causing him to inhale.
He held his breath until she unbuttoned him and slid his breeches over his hips and down to his ankles.
He now stood in his small clothes, which did nothing to hide his erection.
She used her hand to tug the front down, freeing him.
Her eyes widened, and she smiled. Then she cupped him, forcing a groan from his lips.
He wouldn’t last long with her hands on him.
He reached down and stilled her. “Later.”
He lifted her, spun around, and they fell onto the bed exactly where he wanted her.
He shed his undergarments. “I’ll be right back.
” He found his jacket and took a French letter from the pocket.
He wanted a child with Letitia, but he preferred that they be married first. He covered his penis and tied the ribbon tight.
He rejoined her on the bed and kissed her with all the love and devotion he wanted her to feel from him.
When her legs wrapped around his hips, he entered her, sending sparks throughout his body.
Every time he pulled out and pushed back in, more sparks ignited inside his veins.
Soon he was pounding in and out, and she met his rhythm with her own.
Her insides clamped down on him, milking his seed.
They both panted and went over the edge together.
He rolled onto his back. Removed the French letter. Then turned onto his side, pulling her close. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me every time we make love.”
“I do. I want you to know how much I appreciate you.” He inhaled, then said the words he’d never spoken to anyone but his immediate family. “I love you.”
Silence. She took a deep breath and, as she exhaled, said, “I love you, too.” He was shocked to find himself hard again so quickly, and he showed her how much he loved her.
She lay in his arms asleep and he followed her soon after.
Greyson was dreaming he was in bed with Letitia, but an annoying knock kept bothering him and wouldn’t stop. He popped his eyes open and realized he’d fallen asleep and that someone was actually knocking on the door.
It opened, and he covered them both just as Letitia awoke and said, “Who is it?”
“Jane. I’m sorry, my lady, but I have a message for Viscount Greyson.”
“Leave it on the floor inside the door.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Luckily, they’d left some candles lit. Greyson climbed out of bed and walked naked to the note on the floor addressed to him. He snapped the seal of Tremont and scanned the contents. “I’m being called away,” he said as he hastily dressed.
“Called away?” she mumbled sleepily. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Yes.”
“Is it your father?” she asked, sitting up.
He hated lying to her, but she gave him the perfect excuse. “Yes, he has taken a turn for the worse, and I must return home.”
“Yes. Of course. Give me a moment to find my dressing robe, and I’ll see you to the door.”
“You stay here.” He moved to her side of the bed.
“I’m sorry our night was cut short. I’ll make it up to you.
I promise.” He kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, my love.” Of all the nights to be called away, it had to be tonight.
From experience, if Knight had hunted him down, something significant had to have happened.
The sooner he left, the sooner he’d understand the situation.
He moved hastily and silently out of Letitia’s house. No surprise, he saw Mr. Henry out of the corner of his eye, lurking just off the entry hall. He should be offended, but he was thankful and knew Letitia would be safe with him to guard her.
Down the street stood an unmarked black carriage. Greyson hurried toward it, opened the door, and climbed in to find Knight waiting for him. “What happened?” he whispered.
“When the stones were thrown at Prinny’s carriage back in January, it was bad, but this time someone shot at him as he exited his coach around one this morning. The bullet grazed a footman’s arm. Both were fortunate.”
“Thank God no one was killed,” Greyson spat.
The carriage came to a stop. “Come, the Prince is waiting.”
They approached the entrance to Carlton House and were met by four guards, who let them pass.
At the main door, two more guards stood watch and, upon recognizing them, let them pass.
Inside, another two guards met them and escorted them to Prinny’s private residence, where he sat at his desk in his study, looking weary.
“Your Royal Highness,” both Knight and Greyson said, bowing.
“Please take a seat.”
Once Knight and Greyson sat in leather chairs facing the desk, Prinny said, “What a night. Will this madness ever end? It’s been going on too long. One of these days or nights, I’m going to get hurt.”
“Was he caught?” Knight asked.
“Oh, yes. He’s in the Tower as we speak. You can both question him when you leave.”
“Good,” Knight added.
The Prince Regent let out a heavy sigh. “I’m frightened for my family. What if someone goes after them next?”
“We will do everything in our power to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Knight said.
“Princess Charlotte is at Claremont House in Surrey and due to have my grandchild soon.”
“Send some of your Dragoons to Surrey,” Knight recommended.
“I already made the arrangements. They leave at first light.”
“Good.” Knight touched his mask, which hid his burned face, a gesture Greyson knew he made when frustrated. “Where are your Dragoons?”
“Some are out scouring the streets, questioning anyone they see. Others are here, protecting those in residence. I’m quite convinced this person didn’t act alone. He’s a poor farmer and should’ve wielded a pitchfork or some such tool, not a pistol beyond his means.”
“We will find out what we can,” Greyson said. “Forgive me, Your Highness, if this is the wrong time, but there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you.”
“Go on.”
“With the Home Office, the Bow Street Runners, and your Dragoons, I don’t understand why you created the Black Knights.”
“Because I don’t trust anyone! There could be spies anywhere. Your job is to keep me safe and alive, weed out any spies, and keep my subjects from marching on London with any weapon they can find to protest government laws. And most importantly, keep England from having a bloody revolution.”
“We will try,” Knight said.
“You’d better do more than try, Knight,” Prinny bellowed. “I expect you and your men to succeed in curbing all this unrest.”
“Pardon me, Your Highness,” Knight said. “But we are only eight Black Knights, five of whom are out on assignment.”
“Yes. Eight men you handpicked with my approval. Now is not the time to expand the Knights. I will, however, for the time being, turn over to your command six of my most skilled and trusted Dragoons.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Please tell them to bring their weapons, but leave their uniforms behind. The Black Knights need to blend in. As regal as their uniforms are, they have no place on Black Knight assignments.”
“Understood. I expect an update by ten.”
After being dismissed, Knight’s carriage took them to the Tower, where they were met by a guard who escorted them to the farmer’s cell.
The guard unlocked the gate and handed Greyson a lantern, then they entered the small chamber, where a middle-aged man sat huddled on the cold, dirty floor, shivering.
“What is your name?” Knight demanded.
“Timothy Burke.”
“Who gave you the pistol and told you to shoot the Prince Regent?”
The prisoner looked up, his eyes glowing white in the lantern light. “It be mine.”
Greyson knew Knight could be ruthless, but for some reason he wasn’t tonight. “I don’t believe you. As a farmer, it would take a year’s profit to buy such a fine pistol.”
“I won’t tell you nothing,” he spat.
“If you don’t, you’ll hang.”
“I’ll hang anyway.”
“Let me tell you something,” Knight said.
“The Prince Regent is trying to keep his subjects safe. He is trying to stop these rebellions before they begin. Not because he fears for his own safety, but because he fears for his subjects’.
He doesn’t want bloodshed. He is trying to prevent it.
We,” he said, pointing from Greyson to himself, “are trying to help those marching toward London to see that nothing but arrests and bloodshed will come of it. That is the last thing the Regent wants. His heart breaks when his subjects die for the greed of others who instigate these rebellions. Those who create these uprisings don’t march alongside you. They are snakes that slither and hide.”
“I’m still not talking.”
“Fine. But know that my people will continue to prevent farmers like you from ending up in jail or, worse, hanged. And know that we will do anything in our power to make your troubles heard.”
Knight banged on the iron bars to get the guard’s attention.
He unlocked the gate and let them out. Back inside his carriage, Knight said, “I fear more marches are ahead. But what bothers me is that he had a pistol, and he was alone. Large crowds can get unruly, but one man can move stealthily and undetected. Prinny was lucky tonight. He’s expecting me back to report to him in the morning.
I’ll tell him of my fears and advise him to increase his Dragoons’ security.
Meanwhile, I’ll drop you off and go home myself. We both could use some sleep.”
“You’re right.” The rest of the ride was silent, and Greyson found himself nodding off to the sound of the horses’ hooves.
“Greyson, wake up.” Knight’s voice startled him.
“Sorry.”
The carriage stopped in front of Danbury Hall. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Anytime. Meeting tomorrow at noon. Let’s hope more Black Knights have returned.”
“Yes.” Greyson let himself out and hurried into his family’s home as the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn. Exhausted, he slowly made his way to his chambers. He fell back on his bed, clothes and all, and slipped into a deep slumber.