Scandal - COMPLETED

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was uncharacteristic of him to admit to any weakness, let alone fear. I reached out and took his hand in mine. I wanted to find some way to set his mind at ease, or maybe distract him from his thoughts as he had distracted me in his study that morning, but before I could speak, the carriage door was jerked open.

John released me and half stood, his expression icing over as he readied himself to physically eject whomever sought entry.

McNaught swung into view.

John's posture relaxed only marginally. "Yes?"

The spy's face was grim as he climbed into the carriage. "The queen is in attendance."

Without being asked, he shut the door behind himself and moved to sit beside me. I scooted as far away as the cushion would allow. He shot me an amused look and settled in, knees spread wide, crowding me on the seat.

First thing tomorrow morning, I was going straight to Adnan and asking him where to stab a man to cause the most amount of pain.

"I thought the queen was still at Frogmore," John said.

McNaught shook his head. "Apparently she grew bored with planning her gardens and returned to Buckingham House late last night, the princesses in tow."

I grimaced. I'd been forced to wait on Queen Charlotte less than a handful of times. From what little I'd gleaned from my time in her household, it was run more like a nunnery. Thanks to the king's bouts of madness, she was given a free reign with her daughters, and she treated them less like royal princesses and more like her own personal ladies in waiting. Augusta, Elizabeth, Mary, and Sophia were all well over marriageable age. Ranging from late 20s to early 30s, they would have been considered spinsters if not for their royal titles. And now that they were back in town, I might be forced to wait on that dour household again.

"Is the king still in Weymouth?" John asked.

McNaught nodded.

John's expression darkened. "What brings the queen out without her husband?" Charlotte wasn't typically one for fetes or balls.

"I'm assuming her love of music," McNaught said. "My father invited her latest pet Prussian composer."

John turned to me. "You'll be in her company at some point. Can you try to uncover another reason for her attendance?"

I nodded. Amesbury and the queen were friends. Old friends. With Amesbury's perfect upper crust accent and faultless British snobbery, one often forgot that she wasn't actually born here. She was originally from Hanover, like the queen, and came over in Charlotte's retinue when she wed George III. Since I was forced to pay court to the dowager duchess, and she would pay court to the queen, my company tonight would be even more tedious than usual.

"And if you're approached by someone holding a letter, flee before she can notice," McNaught added.

Again, I nodded.

Lord, don't let me receive a note in the queen's company. Inquisitive by nature – some said nosey as a common barmaid – the queen had been known to snatch missives right out of her courtiers' hands and read them aloud for all to hear. My head spun at the thought of that happening tonight.

McNaught leaned away from me then, to glance out of the carriage window. "Damn, we're getting close." He glanced back at John. "No new notes today?"

John shook his head. "No notes. But Katherine did find two bits of gossip in the papers."

The carriage rolled forward again, and McNaught swore under his breath. "No time to discuss them now. We'll talk more after the ball?"

"Yes, fine," John said, the words clipped.