indignantly. “Well, that’s a reasonable assumption, and ordinarily you’d be right, except that in this case…” He paused, then after a few seconds deflated. “Fine, you guessed it.” Inwardly, he was nervous. He had little experience with the nobles that would be present. “Will you come with me?”
Her eyes perked up for a second, then faded as her weariness returned. “I would, but you don’t really want me there.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. “Why not? You don’t feel well enough?”
Selene shook her head. “If I’m there, they won’t respect you. They’ll see you as a pretender hiding behind your royal wife’s skirts. They’ll defer to you in the moment but turn against you when I’m not there.”
He hadn’t considered it quite that way. “You think so?”
She nodded. “I’ve been through it myself, living in the shadow of my father. Over and over again I’ve been forced to prove myself when he wasn’t there before they treated me as anything other than window dressing. I don’t know if it will be as bad for you, but the same principle applies.”
Will puckered his lips in a sour expression. “You’re right, but I still wish it was otherwise. What do you advise then?”
“You should find out who else will be there and consult an expert to learn about them before you go.”
He smiled. “I happen to know such an expert.”
She gave him a sly look. “Is she pretty?”
“As beautiful as you,” he answered playfully.
“Should I be jealous?”
Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss. “Probably not. So, who will be there?”
She began explaining, and he listened carefully. She was the one suffering from extreme fatigue, so he could do no less than give her his full attention. As expected, she had a breathtaking knowledge of the nobility of the realm and was able to make confident guesses about who would be present and what he should expect from them.
He stopped her at one point, confusion written on his face. “Did you say Count Spry?”
She nodded. “Bartholomew, a distant cousin of the one I nearly married. He inherited the estate and title since between us we killed both the father and the son. Not to worry, though, from what I’ve learned he disliked Reginald Spry almost as much as you did. In any case, he wouldn’t dare let any familial feelings interfere with his duty.”
Will couldn’t help but worry about that, but he trusted her judgment.
Two days later, he stepped out of his carriage at the palace. He was an hour early for the meeting, but he had taken Selene’s advice to heart. “Being fashionably late is only for parties; for political meetings, arriving early is key. Nobles gather and talk beforehand—alliances form and are broken before a meeting occurs,” she had told him.
Not that he really knew many of them. He was an outsider. It was unlikely he’d find friends before the meeting commenced. A footman directed him to a salon where a few others who had arrived early were relaxing while they waited. Will stepped into the wide, spacious room and scanned it quickly, wondering if he would recognize anyone there.
Along one eastern-facing wall were tall, eight-foot windows that allowed the morning sun to stream in, bathing the cushioned furniture and low tables in golden light. Two men were standing beside one of them, one fit and trim, the other large and rotund. The slimmer of the two spotted Will and immediately headed in his direction, a friendly smile on his face. “Your Grace! I see you’re early!”
It was the one face he expected to recognize, that of his father, Mark Nerrow. Hearing the man address him as a duke felt strange, but he had been forewarned to expect it. Will dipped his head slightly in recognition, then responded, “Baron Nerrow, I am glad to see a familiar face.”
Mark Nerrow’s gaze registered unspoken approval. “Of course. If you will allow, I’d like to introduce you to another of the king’s loyal servants, a man of indispensable talents.” He led Will to the window, where the other man had been quietly observing their greeting.
Before Mark could introduce them, Will smiled and said, “I’ve looked forward to meeting you. Lord Bradshaw, I presume?”
Viscount Bradshaw smiled genially in return, then extended his hand. “Your Grace does me too much honor. What gave away my identity?” The baron’s warm, brown eyes drifted down toward his large belly, then he winked. “Never mind. I suspect I know already.”
Selene had in fact mentioned the man’s proportions