Hatshepsut's Collar (The Artifact Hunters #2) (38 page)

“And business?”

Jackson ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Damn soldiers have nearly shut us down, crawling over everything. I had to redirect the incoming ships up to our dock in Lowestoft.”

Nate nodded. “Good. Any word of Nolton?”

“He sent out a distress call. The HMRAS Elizabeth went out to collect him. He’s due late tonight. The Aurora’s bladder is damaged; they cut it loose and have to steam home.”

Two maids brought platters of finger food, their eyes wide and round as they set the trays down on the long sideboard. They dropped curtseys to the assembled people. One raised her eyes to Loki, who gave her a wicked wink. She met his stare boldly.

“I know what I’m having for dessert,” he murmured, watching the sway of hips as she left the room. Jackson poured wine from the carafe and handed around the substantial crystal glasses.

“Me too,” Nessy said, her hungry gaze devouring Loki’s form.

The pirate turned with a start as the older woman edged closer and closer with open intent in her eyes.

Cara stifled a laugh, wondering who would win that match.

“They tried to take a hundred young men from the estate and village,” Nan said, piling a plate high with slices of beef, pickles, and warm bread. She whipped out one hand and caught Nessy, redirecting her appetite to the food table. “I wasn’t having any of that. We made sure they couldn’t be found when the military rode through.”

Cara pressed a hand to her temples, a pounding headache starting to drill its way through her brain. Too many problems fought for dominance in her skull. “We need to stop Victoria before she declares war. Prince Albert is waiting to meet with us.”

“She’ll want her men mobilised and in position first. Then declare and strike fast,” Nate said.

Nan bore a steady gaze through Nate and for once in his life, he looked uncomfortable. “Have I done something in particular?” he finally enquired.

“Yes. You bartered with the devil and bought my granddaughter.”

Chatter around the room died, eyes swung to the oncoming confrontation.

Nate took a drink from his wine and replaced the glass on the end-table with controlled precision. He raised his eyebrows to Cara’s grandmother. “Lord Devon would have sold her to anyone with the ready cash. I kept Cara safe and out of hands far worse than mine.”

Nan opened her mouth to continue her attack, when Cara dove in. “We have more important things to discuss, Nan.” She sat up, needing to divert the brewing battle. She wrested her brain away from the lure of sleep.

“Perhaps you could explain why this estate isn’t subject to primogeniture since you still hold the reins and no distant male relative has taken over? Lord Devon dangled this earldom like bait when he offered Cara for sale.” Nate spotted a weakness in the older woman’s defences.

Nessy drew in a sharp breath and Nan laid a hand on her friend’s arm before narrowing her gaze at Nate. “That is between King William and me, but this estate remains intact for Cara. No husband will ever lay his hands on it.” She pointed a finger at Miguel and hurled her next volley. “How about explaining him? He happens to look an awful lot like my granddaughter and her reprobate father.”

Miguel swallowed his mouthful of food and looked around for an exit, his gaze lighted on the large window. Jackson shot him a grin and placed himself in the way.

Nate arched an eyebrow. “Pure coincidence, I assure you, now let’s circle back to your relationship with King William.”

“Enough!” Cara pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead. Nate and Nan locking horns could go on well into the early hours of the morning, eating into precious time they didn’t have to waste. “Don’t make me shoot one of you to settle this. Nan, Nate is just as overly protective and mule-stubborn as you are.”

Nan gave a murderous stare and pretended interest in her goblet of wine.

Nate’s steel gaze flicked over Cara and he gave a nod before turning to Jackson. “We need to meet Sir John and give him our evidence against Nolton. Did you contact him?”

“He’ll listen. We just need to tell him where and when.”

“Good. We need somewhere away from any connection to us.” He ran a hand over the light stubble darkening his chin.

“Helene’s house in Belgravia.” Cara spoke up.

A flash of sliver in his eyes and amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not her favourite person.”

“She also likes to know the latest gossip and this will save a certain birdie having to relay what we are up to. Plus it’s a good location to meet without attracting attention to the places Nolton will think to look for you.”

He agreed with her logic and nodded at Jackson. “Send a message through, we meet tomorrow morning. Then we need to tackle Victoria. What news?”

“She’s camped out in the Tower in command of her army and struttin’ around like a demented tea pot. People aren’t happy and it’s going to get ugly.”

“It’s what Nolton planned all along, swinging the people against her. Once we remove Hatshepsut’s Collar, she should regain her senses.” He cast a questioning look at Cara.

She gave a shrug. The books gave no detail about what happened after someone removed the Collar, megalomania seemed to be a fatal disease. “I hope so, but it’s pure conjecture.”

He turned back to his bodyguard. “Cara will stay here while the rest of us will travel on to London.”

Cara glared at Nate, a slow burn starting in her gut. “Like hell I’ll stay here. I go where you go.”

“I need to get close to Victoria to remove the necklace. You know our best chance of survival is if you stay here, safe and looked after.” He kept his tone low and controlled, a sure sign he expected his command to be followed. Cara knew his plan. He intended to tear the artifact from around the queen’s neck and gamble on their connection to keep him―and her―alive.

She tugged a lock of her hair and dropped a curtsey. “Perhaps you could leave some socks for me to darn while you’re away?”

“I need you out of danger.” Nate rounded on her. “Do I have to remind you, Nolton left you pinned to a tree in Siberia.”

“And he long-lined you behind his airship.” She shot back.

“He could have killed you.” He brushed a hand through his hair; frustration and building tempers hummed in the room. The heads of the other occupants flicked between the players like they watched a hotly contested tennis match.

“He did kill you.” The burn ignited, anger flaring in Cara. He wouldn’t leave her behind like some simpering noble girl.

“For god’s sake, Cara.” Nate’s raised voice skated on the brink of losing control. He stretched out a hand as though to shake her. “For once, as my wife, why can’t you just―” the next word froze on his lips before he could utter it.

But Cara knew.

Her heart dropped through her stomach, the anger washing away like dirty water sucked down a drain. “That’s one little detail I bet you wished you wrote into my marriage contract. In return for taking my choice away, I have never uttered my agreement to
obey
.” She turned on her heel and left the room. She didn’t slam the door, but closed it gently as she slipped through his grasp like a wisp of smoke.

The closed door taunted him.

No one walked away from him.

Ever.

Except for one stubborn hazel-eyed redhead who threw herself at danger and thought about the consequences afterward.

His fist opened and closed around empty space before he realised what he did and dropped the arm to his side. The anger and frustration swirled and mixed with his desperate need to keep Cara safe, creating a volatile cocktail of emotion within him. He blew out a long sigh and turned back to the room.

Nan fixed him under her stare. “You need to let that girl go before you lose her, permanently.”

Steel resolve flashed through his body. “I will not lose her.”

Nan snorted. “When she was ten years old, her father punished her for failing to obey by locking her in a second story room. Two weeks later, we finally found her, disguised as a cabin boy on a steamer heading to Paris.”

He took a shaky breath, trying to bring his emotions back under command before he lost control. “And your point is?”

“She’s not ten years old anymore. If she bolts this time, she’ll get a lot further than Paris.”

He stared at the closed door, processing the older woman’s words. Cara could run, but he would know where to pursue her, he only had to follow his heart.

And she will always know how closely I snap at her heels.

“Do you want to waste years, chasing her around the globe?” Nan gave an exasperated sigh. “Follow her boy, now, before she drops out a window again.”

Nate wanted to scoff, but remembered Cara already escaped once out the window of his Mayfair mansion. He ordered her to bed rest after Clayton tried to carve her heart out, she had other plans. He made his decision in a split second and slipped out to the hallway.

He navigated the large house using the echo in his chest to find her room. He swung the bedroom door open to find a large orange tom staking his claim in the middle of the floor and meeting his gaze. Neither blinked nor moved.

“Out,” Nate commanded, gesturing over his shoulder to the hallway. “Only one tom cat is sharing this bed tonight.”

If the cat had possessed eyebrows, he would have raised one. Nate flicked his gaze to Cara. She ignored him, leaning on the wide window sill, arms crossed over her chest and fixedly staring at the night sky.

He stepped over the threshold and took in his surroundings and the scattered mementos of Cara’s childhood; a well-worn teddy bear on the bed, the rows of books in a shelf running under the window seat, the brightly coloured hand knotted rag rugs.

He narrowed his eyes and approached the cat. He picked the animal up around the middle, strode to the hallway, and dropped the indignant furry bundle before slamming the door. He spared a moment to be pleased with himself before turning to tackle the waves of anger rolling off his wife.

Cara knew the tom would be back. This was only round one to Nate, the cat played a long game.

Nate walked to the middle of the room, now devoid of the ginger tom, and halted. For once he looked lost, unsure what to do.

Her heart ached. She wanted to simultaneously wrap her arms around him and smack him on the side of his head.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“And I love you.” She reached inside, trying to find the right words. “But loving you is the easy bit. Trying to live with you is killing me.”

His hands balled into fists at his side. “I will have McToon draw up divorce papers. I’ll not lose you over something within my power to change.” Pain edged his words.

She raised her tired gaze to his ice blue one.
Does he really think this is about a piece of paper?
Men.
She let out a sigh. “It’s not that. You can’t mold me into something submissive and compliant.”

He frowned. “I have no interest in making you submissive and compliant. I just want you to stop fighting me.”

“Then stop trying to protect me,” she cried. “You cannot be who you are if you constantly worry about me being hurt.”

He took two strides toward her. “Of course I want to protect you. You are the most precious thing in this world to me. I would lock you in my damn safe if I could, so no one would ever harm you again.”

She shook her head. “Married or divorced makes no difference, you’ll kill me if you cage me.” Her voice a bare whisper, unshed tear shining in her eyes.

Distress tore through their bond, a white hot sliver of metal piercing both of them. He rocked back on his heels, balanced on the edge of losing her as a chasm opened between them, each standing on an opposite side. “Tell me what to do. Please.”

She took a deep breath, followed by another. Can they bridge the distance? “We’re in this together, Nate. Don’t push me behind you. Let me stand at your side.”

“You’ll get hurt.” Instant refusal flared in his gaze.

“Yes, I will. And I expect you to pound whoever dares hurt me. You do have a reputation to maintain.”

For one agonising moment, he stared at her. Cara held her breath while he processed the options. Controlling those around him as fundamental to his character as rebellion was to hers. The wrong word now and the chasm would never be crossed, and she would fall from his reach.