Page 35 of A Problem Princess

She stepped around Marie and out of the box before the comtesse could stop her—or chastise her again for her behavior as she had with the nurse in the garden. From the way Marie and Uncle Ernest had kept her in her room and threatened to send her home to Monrovia, one would have thought she was a child who had thrown herself into the Thames and attempted to swim for freedom.

Oh, what a sweet escape that would be! But she would make do with tonight.

Once she was in the hall, she leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply in a futile attempt to calm her racing heart. She counted to ten in her head as she waited, knowing…

“Princess, it’s not safe for you to go off alone.”

Clayton’s deep voice twined down her spine, and in its wake came the same confusion she’d felt since meeting him…a certainty that she should flee coupled with the inexplicable desire to simply wrap herself around him.

“I’m not alone.” She opened her eyes, looked up at him, and lost her breath. “I have you guarding me.”

He grumbled, “Try not to sound so aggrieved that I want to save your life, will you?”

Her lips twisted as she fought back a smile at his expense. “I need to speak with you.”And I knew you would follow me.Her smile faded. “I think I might know why someone would want to harm me.”

He stiffened, then glanced up and down the hallway. They were alone except for two guards turned box attendants standing near the stairs.

“The royal box needs more brandy and claret,” he called out to the two men. “Go fetch some.”

They nodded and scurried away to do as ordered.

Clayton reached past Cordelia to open the door of the adjoining box. “In here.”

He took her arm and led her quickly inside the private box, then closed the door behind them.

The space was unlit and empty. Despite the front curtains hanging partly open to the theatre and stage below, the back of the box was filled with dark shadows that prevented anyone from seeing the two of them together, and the sound of music drifting up to them would keep them from being overheard. Exactly what she wanted.

So why did she suddenly feel nervous? She twisted her trembling hands in her skirt and stepped back against the wall to make certain the shadows obscured her completely from all eyes in the boxes surrounding them. “I’ve been thinking about the attack, and I think I know why that man did it.”

The corners of his mouth curled up. “Have you decided to trust me, then?”

“Yes.”

His low chuckle tangled around her in the darkness. “You don’t have to sound so aggrieved aboutthateither.”

In the dim light, she could just make out the gleam in his eyes until she confessed, “You should be pleased about that. There are others in the palace I don’t trust at all.”

At that, his amusement vanished. “Who?”

“The royal dukes.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“Rather, that is, someone close to them,” she clarified. “One of their mistresses, or a woman who has designs on marriage. She must have hired him to kill me.”

“A woman?” he repeated as if he hadn’t heard correctly.

“You don’t think a woman capable of that kind of plotting?” She lifted her chin. “You’re sadly underestimating women, General.”

“Believe me, Princess.” His soft murmur swirled around her in the shadows and stirred a warmth low in her belly. “I know exactly what kind of spine women possess.”

A scattering of applause rippled through the theatre, but instead of intruding on their privacy, it seemed to cocoon them together even more.

“What makes you think someone connected to the dukes wants you dead?” he asked.

“To keep me from marrying one of them.” When disbelief crossed his face, she hurried to explain, “I was attacked here, not in Monrovia, so the reason has to be connected to England. But I’ve no say in any diplomatic or governmental agreements whatsoever—the only value I have here is marriage into the royal family.”The only value I seem to have anywhere.“If one of the dukes’ mistresses or intimates thinks I’m a threat—if some other aristocratic woman or her family thinks I’m a rival in marriage—then she might just be desperate enough to attempt to remove me.”

“Which woman?”