would not. He was ashamed for the king to see the ordinary man he was. No longer a crown prince and king in waiting. A simple man with some sheep and goats and chickens and cows, and superior knowledge of trade mechanics.
He’d wanted to study his father’s face, to see his features. He’d wanted to examine his hands, to hear the stories of his youth. He’d wanted his father to be robust and strong, like him, but instead, he’d found a slight man with a sickly pallor. “It was...outré,” he said, unable to think of an English word that described how bizarre and extraordinary it was to see him on a throne, surrounded by men that were bigger and more robust than him. “This sounds mad. I sound mad.”
“Not to me,” she said firmly. “Tell me, Mr. Brendan, given your suspicions, what do you really make of the four soldiers?”
Marek shook his head. “I don’t believe it. I don’t think there were any soldiers on that ship, or any ship. The king and his family arrived with sufficient guard.”
“But what if it is true?” she pressed. “Why would they be here? There is sufficient guard around the king now, both British and Weslorian—I’ve seen them myself. What reason would there be to send four soldiers to London via a Scottish merchant ship?”
Marek considered the question. He got up and walked to the window, staring out at what had become a very dark night. What if it was true? What if she was right, and there was something odious afoot? If something were to happen to the king here, what would it mean? Queen Victoria would call in her best physicians to help to save the king. His family would be taken to safety. The ministers would gather around the king. Where did four soldiers fit into that scenario?
Mrs. Honeycutt came to her feet and joined him at the window, peering into the night. She touched his hand so he’d turn his head to her. “I think I know what we have to do.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. We must find if there are indeed four soldiers, and if so, who has sent them, and for what purpose.” She smiled.
Marek had a feeling that her smile would haunt him long after he’d departed London. “Ah, I see. It ought to be as easy as looking for the four horsemen of the apocalypse.”
Her smile broadened, and she shrugged. “‘When the hurly-burly’s done,’” she said cheerfully.
“‘When the battle’s lost and won.’” Marek’s gaze went to her mouth.
She made a sound of delight. “You beguile me with your knowledge of Shakespeare! None of my acquaintances have the patience for it.”
She beguiled him, too, and not because of Shakespearean quotes tossed into conversation—he’d learned to speak English reading Shakespeare and other English works.
“I know what to do, Mr. Brendan, but you have to trust me.”
Whom had he ever trusted since his seventeenth year? No one but himself. He’d relied on no one else, had learned to forge a single path, had kept his solitary place between two worlds. And now, this woman, this beautiful woman, who’d appeared from seemingly nowhere, was giving him the smallest hope that he could trust. He impulsively reached up and touched her cheek with his knuckles. “I have no choice but to trust you, Mrs. Honeycutt.”
Her smile deepened and those lovely eyes shone at him. “My name is Hollis.”
Hollis. A strong name for a daring woman. “All right, you have me. What do you suggest we do?”
“Find them.”
He admired her spunk, but he was dubious of her sleuthing abilities. “And how, pray tell, do you suggest we do that?”
She didn’t answer; she suddenly turned toward the door. Once again, Marek hadn’t heard anyone enter, but the older woman was standing three feet in the room.
“How is he?” Mrs. Honeycutt asked.
“Sleeping, madam,” she said. “I gave him a good dose of the laudanum. He’s a bit battered, but nothing too serious by the look of it. He’ll be right as rain, I suspect.”
“I’ll be up shortly to look in on him,” Mrs. Honeycutt said.
The woman nodded and went out.
“I’ll leave you to your patient.” Marek was surprisingly reluctant to go, but he sensed she wanted to go to Donovan.
In the entry, he took his hat and put his hand on the door handle. He paused. “You never said how.”
“How to find them? I have an excellent idea.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I think we need a tree gathering.”
“A what?”
She laughed. She put her hand on his