“And miss all the excitement? Ach, no, me gel, I’m staying right here with you and the knight.”
Millicent huffed. It did no good to argue with Nell if she had her mind made up. She glanced back at Ambrose, who kept gazing at the large bottle of brandy with lovesick eyes.
“Ambrose.”
He ignored her.
“Nell, fetch a thimble for him, will you? He’s liable to swoon again.”
Iridescent wings twitched. “I never swoon, madam. Lose my equilibrium, perhaps. But never swoon.”
Nell fetched a thimble from Millicent’s sewing supplies and carefully poured a drop into the makeshift tankard, and handed it to the little man. He downed the contents faster than any of the patrons of the Swill and Seelie, causing her and Nell to gape at him in admiration.
“Quality brew,” he said, wiping his mouth on a well-stained sleeve, and looked up at Millicent with a renewed sparkle in his large brown eyes. “Now then, where were we?”
“I want you to return with a message to Bran. Tell him I have… unfinished business with the duke. Tell him to wait for a message from me to move. Then you come back here, so I can send him to you when it’s time.”
Those pointy brows furrowed. “There appears to be more afoot here than just a simple kidnapping. My services do not come cheap, my dear, and I would rather not involve myself in anything… too dangerous.”
“You may avail yourself of the entire cabinet.”
His gaze riveted on the sparkling bottles and their contents. “I daresay, that is rather generous—”
“As long as you can manage to fly with my message when the time comes,” added Millicent.
“Madam. I assure you, I have never been unable to fly. I may wobble a bit—”
“But ye always manage to fly,” finished Nell. “We gets it. Now off with ye, before…”
Millicent cocked her head at the door. “I hear it too. Someone’s coming. Go on, Ambrose, and return soon.” She watched the sprite test his wings, spin upward into the air, and out the window. She hoped he would come back.
The door to their prison finished opening and Selena stepped inside, clasping her hands in front of her with a flourish of rippling sleeves. She wore a black gown of such fine silk that it fluttered with every move she made.
“Don’t you wear anything but black?” muttered Millicent.
She flashed her pointed teeth. “It suits my mood most of the time. And right now, I’m annoyed with having to fetch you for the duke.”
Millicent lowered her lashes, hiding the spark of interest in her eyes, and spoke as surly as she could. “What does he want now?”
“Just put these on,” snapped the were-bat, tossing a mound of golden silk at her. “And make it quick. It’s past my feeding time.”
Nell followed Millicent into the bedroom and helped her put on the clothing, a voluminous gown with long, puffed sleeves and multiple petticoats.
“Did ye notice they come for ye when our knight ain’t around?”
Millicent wondered when Gareth had become “their” knight. “I rather think he scared the duke at his last appearance.”
Nell snorted. “Per’aps. Or per’aps the duke has a plan that he don’t want Sir Gareth buggering up. Or per’aps—”
“Hush, Nell. We all agreed that we must find out what the duke is up to. I’m counting on his ego to brag about it over tea.”
“Still, I’m coming with ye.”
“Not unless the duke demands it. I need you here in case Ambrose returns.”
The old lady glanced at the bracelet on Millicent’s wrist. “Our knight won’t be out for hours.”
“I know, and it hardly matters. Since when do I need a man to protect me?”
Nell raised one red brow, but did not say another word as she followed Millicent out of the bedroom.
Selena narrowed her eyes. “You look suitably ridiculous. Like a rat with a silk bow around its neck. Come on.” She spun in a swell of black silk, toward a group of guards waiting just outside the door, then glanced over her shoulder at Nell. “The old woman stays here, of course, to insure your cooperation.”
“With what?” asked Millicent.
“Apparently you have received an invitation to take tea with Lady Yardley.”
Millicent sat across from the Duke of Ghoulston in his private coach once more, but this time they left London until the windows afforded a view of the English countryside. The light hurt her eyes, but she continued to squint at the vista of green spread over hill and meadow, the quaint cottages covered in roses, the grazing cows and rippling ponds. And an occasional touch of shimmering magic. Unicorns leaping over hedgerows, waterfalls that flowed upward into fountains of sparkling light, trees of rich purple shaped into umbrellas of shade. England was beautiful aboveground.
The duke sniffed and wriggled his bulk on the seat, rocking the coach even more than the pitted roads already managed to. He glanced at her with that secretive smile still plastered to his fleshy face.
Millicent scowled. “For the hundredth time, where are we going?”
He glanced out the window. “To Lady Yardley’s country estate. I suppose we shall be there soon enough. Here.” He handed her a gold box carved with delicate oriental flowers, their petals studded with precious gems that winked in the late-afternoon sunshine.
The box felt cool and heavy in her hands. It looked valuable enough to feed her and Nell for years. “What is this for?”
“You shall give it to Lady Yardley. It is a gift for the queen.”
“What’s in it?”
“Some tea. A rather unique blend of my own. You shall not mention that, of course.”
“Of course.” Millicent hid her smile of triumph. The man had been singularly reluctant to reveal anything about their outing up to this moment, and any information she could glean from him might help her understand his purposes. His nervousness made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle in alarm, telling her he had some serious evil in mind. “Why don’t you just give it to her yourself?”
“Ah.” Again he wriggled, the magically enhanced fabric of his coat changing color with his movements. “I have my reasons.” He kept wiping sweat off his upper lip, and his black eyes glittered with some inner excitement.
“So, you don’t want anyone to know the tea is a gift from you. Surely you could have used someone else for the ruse. Why me?”
His bushy brows rose in a mockery of innocence. “For some confounded reason, Lady Yardley has taken a liking to you. But more importantly, she trusts your naive facade. She will not think twice about your desire to give the queen a gift. It is something most new arrivals at court feel compelled to do. But this one will manage to reach her, since it will be delivered by her own Lady of the Bedchamber.”
Millicent looked down at the box in her hands, quickly threw back the lid, and inspected the contents. Black tea leaves. “What did you put in your special blend? I will not harm the queen for any reason.”
He sputtered. “Harm? The queen? Are you mad? Do you know what the penalty is for treason?”
His horror seemed genuine.
“I know you have some evil plan, Your Grace. I do not believe for a moment that you took me all the way from London just so I may deliver a harmless gift.”
He shrugged. “Either you give my box to Lady Yardley, or I finally indulge myself with an experiment on that were-firebird. I have an idea that her feathers may be used as the firing mechanism for an explosive device I’m working on. It’s a pity I must pluck them out, one by one.”
Millicent growled softy. There must be something in the tea, but she could not see nor smell anything abnormal about it. Not a whiff of magic. And the queen would have safeguards about her, preventing harm of any foreign magic to her person. Surely the queen had someone to taste her meals as well, so it would be foolish of the duke to put anything in it that might poison her.