Chapter 15 #2
“So, it’ll be through coercion that you’ll get your way, then?” he asks angrily.
And while I want to shrink away from his anger and the consequences that may come with it, I know that I’m right. I have to stand my ground. “In this, yes,” I answer firmly.
He watches me for a moment, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he weighs his options. The look on Leo’s face is murderous. Probably not a word I should be throwing around lightly right now either…
“Fine.” His tone is one that I know means trouble for me later, but I’ll worry about that after I survive this next threat.
“You canno’ be serious,” Leo thunders. Not only am I his asset to protect, but with me is a woman he cares for and I’m guessing shares real feelings with. I’d be mad, too, if I were him, but I have to stand strong here.
“Yes,” Rhys says decidedly. “You and I will search with these two and the rest will follow other leads.”
“Aye,” he says thunderously. “I’ll notify the team.”
We wait in silence while Leo calls someone on his team to relay the plans and I do everything in my power not to make eye contact with my husband. I know he’s frustrated, but so am I.
I can’t keep my promise to fully embrace this life if I’m dead.
“All right, let’s begin,” Leo says. “We’re going to take Albert Hall.”
“Why that wing?” Dahlia asks. “No one’s stayed there in years.”
“Aye,” Rhys agrees. “It’s been closed for renovations since before Father died.”
“Sounds like a great place to hide someone who’s supposed to be dead,” I reply.
Rhys takes my hand in his.
I try to slip away because I don’t like to feel his anger and would much rather face one emergency at a time. Then again, in this life, I almost never get what I want so I shouldn’t be surprised when he squeezes my hand in warning.
We all stay quiet as Leo leads us through another secret passageway.
Literally through a painting at the end of the hall of some great lady from long ago.
He grabbed the edge of the gilt frame and felt along for the latch while I stood there with my mouth hanging open because everyone else around me knew that this door was here.
Guess I’m alone in my surprise.
We step through the doorway the panting revealed and then pull it closed behind us. On the backside is another painting of a fancy lady in a garden. I wonder if one day my portrait will be a secret door somewhere. Wild.
The steps down are old, slanted stone and the lighting is like something you’d see in a coal mine, dim and dark.
I’m glad we changed into comfy clothes and sneakers or else I’d be worried I might fall and break my neck or something.
We have to travel single file because stairs are so narrow, like something out of an Indiana Jones movie.
Leo leads the pack with Rhys in the back like it’s their sworn job to protect Dahlia and me.
Honestly, I’m the least important person in this party.
Once we get to the bottom, the passageway opens up a bit before we approach another stairwell, this one going up. We’re clearly underground and I don’t think I like it. The air is musty and stale. We follow Leo up the next set of stairs and I decide I never want to come back here for any reason.
“What is this place?” I ask quietly.
“Secret passage.” Rhys mutters the obvious answer from behind me.
“It was a bomb shelter during the war,” Dahlia says over her shoulder. “Don’t you just love it?”
“Uh… no,” I answer as sweat dots my upper lip and my hairline.
“Do you regret coming along yet?” Rhys asks quietly in my ear.
“No,” I growl.
His deep chuckle rings in my ear.
“We’ll see how you answer after I’ve turned your pretty arse red.”
“Hmpf,” I reply, opting to ignore him and focus on getting out of this underground lair alive.
Leo stops at the top of the stairs and cracks open the door.
The light is blinding for a second and he ducks his head out to see if the next hallway is clear.
We follow him out into a hallway similar to our residential one, only this one has walls lined with a hunter green jacquard with a muted hunting plaid.
The moldings and trim are a creamy white and go all the way to the tall ceilings.
The area is beautiful even with the painter’s tarps and scaffolding.
This must be Albert Hall.
“What is this place?” I ask again only this time it’s a compliment.
“Welcome to Albert Hall, my love,” Rhys says, taking my hand in his again. “This is meant to be a home for the heir to the crown.”
“Then how come you live in the suite?” I ask.
“Because that’s where you live,” he answers.
“Solid answer.”
“I try.”
“You succeed,” I reply.
“Once we were married,” he continues. “I’d assumed we’d move into the royal housing and Taylor and Dahlia would move here but Saoirse is dragging her heels.”
“I’m shocked,” I droll.
“We’ll take the left side, and you take the right,” Leo says. “It’s still so closed up, I doubt anyone has been in here.”
“Aye,” Rhys says. “I agree.”
We open the first door to find an office with a big mahogany desk and bookshelves. The next is a children’s bedroom and my heart beats faster at the idea of this being a baby’s room. Next to it is a much more modest bedroom and bathroom for a baby nurse to live.
Leo is right, there’s nothing here but construction materials and the decorator’s uncompleted projects with various antiques and expensive knickknacks thrown together in a very Ralph Lauren kind of way.
The next room is bigger, more luxurious but still a child’s bedroom and bathroom. I’m frustrated and angry and there’s no sign that Maeve or Suzanne have even been here. I’m so tired.
“This is bullshit,” I snap as I push open the next door.
It leads to a large sitting room, not unlike the one in our suite.
I let out a blood curdling scream because hanging from a rope in the closet is Suzanne—Lady Thomley—in the same fucking blue dress that I’ve been catching glimpses of for days.