Page 20 of A Problem Princess

“Iam volunteering to protect Her Serene Highness,” Clayton announced. That offer was the last thing he should have done, given how he’d lost his mind in his desire to protect her and kissed her. Yet he needed to stay close to her to have any chance of finding Scepter’s men and saving her from their next attempt to harm her. The enemy had infiltrated the palace, and the only way to stop them was to put himself right into the vipers’ nest. “I believe I’ve proven myself tonight. Wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?”

Her cheeks pinked with embarrassment, yet he prayed she wasn’t daft enough to refuse his protection because of a kiss.

Before she could answer, her uncle smiled patronizingly and held up a ringed hand, silencing her. “We cannot inconvenience the Duke of Hampton and the general. We are guests here, not obligations.” He lowered his hand. “Your protection will remain the responsibility of the palace guards.” Impossibly, his smile became even more condescending. “We will leave your safety toprofessionalsoldiers.”

At that, Marcus and Clayton exchanged glances. The prince had no idea how much training the two generals in front of him possessed, how many years of experience they’d acquired in the fires of battle. They were professional soldiers to their cores. But both men knew not to correct him.

“Uncle.” Cordelia inhaled deeply as if to gather her courage and asserted, “I want General Elliott to lead my personal guard.”

Clayton fought back a pleased smile.Good girl.

“He is a fine and dedicated soldier who served courageously in the wars against Bonaparte, including at Waterloo.” She added, “And I trust him with my life.”

From the corner of his eye, Clayton saw Marcus dart him a narrowed glance. Clayton wisely knew not to look back.

Prince Ernest waved that away. “You do not need to trouble yourself, General. I want her safety ensured by the same men who protect the regent.”

Clayton fought to keep from rolling his eyes. The prince would never know the irony behind his comment. The only reason Clayton had been invited to Carlton House tonight in the first place was because he had protected the regent. For God’s sake, he’d saved the regent’s life, andthiswas how he was being repaid?

He definitely needed a new system of royal compensation.

“The guards failed at their task tonight, Your Highness,” Clayton countered, softening his voice yet keeping his eyes on Cordelia. For the next fortnight, he had no intention of letting her out of his sight. “Do you truly want to risk a second failure?”

“No, we do not,” Cordelia answered. She folded her hands in front of her, but there was nothing demure about the way she held herself, in the imperial lift of her chin and regal hold of her shoulders. Yet her voice was uncertain, as if she were afraid to assert herself in front of her uncle. “I want General Elliott to oversee my guard. I—I insist.”

Prince Ernest’s jaw tightened, yet he seemed to know when to concede. “Very well, then. If Her Serene Highnessinsists”—any concern for his niece in his order was outweighed by visible irritation—“then General Elliott will oversee her guard.”

Clayton gave a low bow. “I serve at the pleasure of the princess.”

Judging from the reactions of the men around him, no one except he and Cordelia were pleased by this arrangement. And he didn’t give a damn if they weren’t. What mattered was protecting the princess.

“Then meet with the captain of the guard,” Prince Ernest ordered, “and coordinate the princess’s schedule with Lady Devereaux.”

The mousey, tall woman curtsied at the order. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The prince ignored her. “Now that this evening is at an end, we will say our good nights to our royal cousins and Princess Cordelia will return to Buckingham House under the protection of the captain of the palace guard, where she can rest and recover.” He stared down his nose at Clayton. “In the morning, General Elliott will take over her security.” The prince held out his hand toward the princess. “Come.”

When Cordelia obediently gave her hand to her uncle, all emotion vanished from her face.

The sudden change jarred Clayton. Oh, she was still beautiful, still regal. But she walked stiffly toward the door with her uncle, reminding Clayton of a statue that had come to life and not the warm, soft woman he’d held in his arms.

Liverpool curtly nodded his goodbyes to Marcus and Clayton and followed after. The comtesse gave Clayton an assessing look that clearly found him lacking as she turned toward the door and exited behind the others.

Lady Devereaux popped open her notebook and ran her finger down the page. “I will meet with you tomorrow morning at Buckingham House at eight o’clock sharp.” She snapped the book closed and spun on her heel. “Do not be late!”

Once they were gone, Clayton heaved out a sighing curse and ran his fingers through his hair.Good Lord.The army didn’t prepare a man for nearly enough kinds of battle. He turned toward Marcus and froze.

His friend was staring at him as if Clayton had just sprouted a second head. “Can I ask what the devil you were doing with the princess when her uncle entered the room?”

Clayton rubbed at the knot of tension in his nape. “Questioning her.”

“Has the Home Office changed its interrogation tactics, then?” Marcus gestured at the two glasses of port sitting on the end table beside the settee. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you kiss anyone during your interrogations before.”

Christ.“She was upset,” Clayton explained as casually as possible, as if kissing a princess were part of his everyday work responsibilities.

Marcus arched a brow.

“Someone had just tried to murder her. I can’t help her if she’s too upset to provide answers. That’s all.”