began to pace there. But eventually she tired herself out and lay down on her bed, fully clothed. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind kept racing around thoughts of Marek. She imagined that the four soldiers had beat him just like Donovan had been beaten. He could be dead by now. Donovan said Hackney Wick could be dangerous.
She thought of the way he always looked at her, with that half smile that made him look somewhat amused, somewhat confused, but mostly intrigued. She thought of the way he watched her lips when she spoke. Of his quiet strength. Of the heat of his body, and how easily he held her.
Lord. She’d gone and fallen in love with him like a fool.
She eventually did sleep, and her reward was to be rudely awakened by Donovan. She heard him whisper her name, and when she opened her eyes, he was looming over her. “Aiiee!” she shouted and rolled away from him. “What the devil are you doing?” She pressed a hand to her wildly beating heart.
“Pardon, but Ruth has gone out to the market. Get dressed and come downstairs.”
“Has something happened?”
“Aye, something has happened.” He suddenly smiled. “Mr. Brendan has come.”
With a gasp, Hollis clambered out of bed and ran to her vanity. She could hear Donovan chuckling as he went out of the room.
Hollis assembled herself as quickly as she could, knotting her hair loosely at her nape, and buttoned the last buttons of her blouse as she flew down the stairs.
Marek was pacing before the hearth in the very place she’d paced just hours ago. He looked grim and his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. He didn’t hear Hollis come in, didn’t notice her until she’d moved into the room. But when he did notice her, his whole countenance changed. His face filled with light, his eyes sparked gold.
She raced across the room, leaping into his embrace. He buried his face in her hair and let out a long sigh. “What happened?” she begged him.
“So much that I hardly know where to start.” He set her on her feet.
“Did you find the soldiers?”
He nodded. “Only one, but only one foolish lad is necessary. He was homesick and stupid, and hardly old enough to be out from behind his mother’s skirts.” He shook his head.
Hollis pulled Marek down beside her onto the settee. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes a moment. “It’s Lord Dromio,” he said. He opened his eyes and sat up. “He’s the one behind it.”
“How?” she asked.
Marek began by telling her what the young soldier had said, and that the “gent” he referred to could be none other than Dromio. “It makes sense. He came a fortnight before the rest of us. He was here when Lord Douglas was paid to bring them. He meets the description the lad gave me.” He stood up and began to pace again. “I could have done more. I’ve long had a bad feeling about him, but it was nothing I could prove or put into words.” He shook his head and looked away for a long moment.
“You couldn’t have known, Marek. Did you confront him?”
Marek shook his head. “I am no one. He doesn’t care what I say—he can easily counter it, or claim I’m disgruntled. No one would take my word over his.” He glanced at her. “I sought the help of Lord Osiander.”
“Who?”
“Our minister of labor. He’s rather new to his post. He’s young and ambitious, and by everything he says, I believe him to be interested in seeing Wesloria evolve into a modern country. When I told him what I knew, he confessed that he shared my suspicions. He’s heard rumors, and said every time he tried to engage Dromio or Lord Van, he was pushed back or dismissed or left out altogether.”
“Oh, my,” Hollis said. “Then it’s all true, isn’t it? Someone does mean to overthrow the king?”
“I believe so,” Marek said. “But Osiander and I agree—there is not enough proof. We spoke at length and...we decided we must take our suspicions directly to the king. Before he sails. Hopefully before he signs the accord.”
“But that’s today!” She looked at the clock on the mantel. It was half past twelve. The signing was to happen this afternoon. “There’s no time, Marek.”
“It is out of my hands,” he said. “Osiander is attempting to get an audience but thus far has been denied. They say the king is unwell and there is much to do. Dromio has