Page 78 of Second Chance Prince
He wouldn’t be in the kitchen. She set off toward the areas where she knew he worked, or met with his council, or entertained dignitaries. Down some stairs and along another corridor and then more stairs, carpeted to prevent noise.
As she rounded a corner, she heard voices.
Quickening her pace, Roberta reached a door, then stoppedand listened. The voices were coming from a little further along, from behind the next door. It was a private room where Niki read and sometimes slept. When she had learned of this, she had been determined he would not sleep there once they were married. But perhaps he was there tonight. Perhaps he was just being considerate and had not wanted to disturb her?
And yet…she had told him to wake her. She had wanted him to disturb her. She had longed for him, and she thought he had longed for her.
But he wasn’t alone in that room. There were the voices again.
Slowly, she took the few steps needed to reach the door and stopped, listening hard. The voices were clearer now, and neither of them was Niki’s. As she processed this, trying to push aside her disappointment, Roberta began to take in what was being said.
“I have no desire to—” It was Tomas, and he sounded angry. And frightened, which was strange. Was this because of the scroll? She had suspected he might have had something to do with that, but she hadn’t wanted to say anything to Niki until the morning.
“Just listen.” That was Francis, and he sounded angry too, but whereas Tomas’s anger was bluster, Francis meant it. She had always suspected the chamberlain was not a man to be denied. She had never liked him, and she was quite sure he had never liked her.
“Listen to me. I am making you an offer that other men would kill for. Are you a man, Tomas? I thought you were. When I realized it was you who switched the scrolls today, I knew we could make a formidable team. Rid the country of the Englishwomanand the man who is blinded by his lust for her. Niki is no leader, but you can take his place. I will help you rally the country and return to the old ways.”
Roberta lifted a hand to cover her mouth, because she thought otherwise, she might cry out. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears, and she had to lean against the wall to hold herself upright.
“No, I said no. That’s just…” Tomas sounded flabbergasted. “I have no desire to take Niki’s place. As for returning Holtswig to the old ways…”
“And yet you wrote a scroll in the old language,” Francis reminded him, sounding frustrated. “I see that as a sign.”
“A sign? Ernest helped me write it. At least, he helped, but he didn’t know that was what I was going to do with it.”
“I can teach you the language. The old ways—”
“I don’t want to learn it! You’re not listening. I think what Niki has done is the right thing. Holtswig needs to be brought into the modern world. You cannot hide in dark corners and long for what is past. No one can.”
There was a threatening silence, and Roberta held her breath. Tomas was young, he was plainspoken and arrogant when he should have been cautious and conciliatory. Francis had offered him Holtswig, and Tomas had thrown it back in his face. And by now, Tomas would know that the chamberlain was behind the attempts on Niki’s life.
She needed to go and tell Niki. She needed to find him now.
Behind the door, there was movement—what sounded like a slap—and then Tomas cried out. He must have fallen against the door because there was a bump on the other side from Roberta, and she stepped back.
“I am not staying here,” the boy said, sounding afraid but trying to hide it. The door began to open.
There was no time for Roberta to hide. Tomas was standing before her, a red mark on his cheek, his mouth ajar with shock when he saw her. Francis was behind him, already gripping the boy’s shoulder, ready to stop his escape. The chamberlain had always seemed old and feeble, but suddenly he looked tall, and strong, and capable of anything.
His eyes narrowed when he saw her, and behind him, Roberta noticed to her dismay that there were two more men she vaguely recognized as servants.
“Take her,” Francis said coldly to his henchman. “And the boy. We cannot leave either of them to tell tales to the prince. Now, quickly!” he added when no one seemed to want to move.
Roberta turned to run, but her arms were caught and held, and a large hand covered her mouth. She kicked out and heard a grunt of pain. Tomas was struggling beside her, also kicking at the shins of his captor, who then shook him violently.
“This way.” Francis was giving orders like the soldier he used to be. “We can use the outside stairs to the stables. No one will see us. We will take them into the forest and deal with them there.”
Roberta wanted to ask what that meant, tugging back on the grip of the man who held her, but he pushed her hard, forcing her to hurry. It was darker here, and there was no carpet or wall hangings. The stairs they came to were of bare gray stone and worn in the center from many centuries of feet. She stumbled, almost falling, while Tomas was still twisting in the grip of the other man.
At the bottom was a bolted door, and Francis pulled back the latch and flung it open. Cold, frosty air greeted them, and the smell of the forest. Roberta didn’t have time to orient herself before they were on the move again. This was not somewhere that was used very often, because the flags were slippery. Suddenly the man holding Tomas lost his footing, and the boy was free. He immediately began to run.
“Get him!” Francis shouted.
The man regained his feet and began to follow, until Roberta stuck out her foot, and he tumbled over once more. It gave Tomas the chance he needed to get farther ahead, and then the shadows made it difficult to see which way he had gone. The man went to strike her, but Francis shouted at him to stop.
“You are wasting time,” he said. “Never fear, she will be punished for all her sins.”
As she was forced down the path into the stables, Roberta hoped Tomas had gotten away.
