Part 27 (1/2)
”And what of the stickpin?” Northrup countered.
”Perhaps someone nicked that stickpin from him.”
”Nicked?” Northrup repeated with a repressed smile. For a breath-stealing moment, his blue eyes warmed and her insides fluttered, but he shook his head as if to clear it, and the connection was broken. ”A nice thought,” he said with his silk- and-gravel voice.
”Well, could it be yours? Maybe someone nicked it from you.”
He didn't laugh at her tease. ”No, la.s.s. My stickpin is long gone.” A shadow of grief fell across his face. ”I buried it with my son.”
She touched him then, because she couldn't bear not to any longer. His hand was warm beneath her palm. ”Maybe it isn't that stickpin at all, but one that resembles it. Victoria was crowned forty-six years ago,” she added when he shook his head. ”It was so long ago, you can't expect your memory to hold so well.”
His smile was wide and wolfish. ”So you blame my faulty, old-man memory, do you?”
”You are not old.”
An amused snort filled the air between them. ”I am going on one hundred and thirty-one.”
”That is different,” she said tartly.
”Oh?” His brows slanted upward, his smile shrewd. ”How so?”
”You have the vigor and appearance of a man in his prime, as you well know, you arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d.” She tried to sound annoyed, but for the first time in the day, he was acting himself. She hadn't realized how much she need his teasing, his joy, him.
Northrup's white teeth flashed. ”Yes, vigor is quite important, is it not?”
”Do be serious, Northrup.”
”Ian.”
”Ian,” she corrected, something inside of her squeezing tight.
His expression softened at the name, and she leaned closer, noting the way his nostrils flared and how the look in his eyes grew heated. She swallowed, her mouth dry. But the moment died when he spoke again. ”Stickpin or not, have you an explanation for Miss Montgomery's both working at Ranulf House and being intimately a.s.sociated with not only a victim but the perfumer?”
Daisy did not. ”We must warn her then. Is this what you plan to do tonight?”
Slowly, his thumb stroked her knuckles. ”No, sweet, I believe Miss Montgomery is long past help. Lane describes her as being fair of hair, blue eyed, and pretty.” Ian's lids lowered. ”The woman we found in Ned's shack might have been so once. And Miss Montgomery was let go from Ranulf House about a month ago due to illness. Cancer, she claimed. But I'd bet my hat that it was syphilis, given to her by this mystery lycan who is now a were. Lane apparently thought as much, too.”
”Well.” Daisy sat back. ”It appears that Winston is a better detective than you gave him credit for.”
”He is a good man,” Ian said. ”And I will not let his attack go unanswered.”
”Then tell me what you plan to do,” she said, not without a little exasperation.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second. ”Well, that's the thing, love. It appears that Conall has been hiding something in Buckingham Palace.”
”Buckingham Palace.” She did not want to hear this. She did not.
”The one and only.”
It stunned her how well she could read him now. And she did not like what she saw. ”Do not tell me you plan to break into Buckingham Palace.”
He did not so much as blink. ”Fine, I won't.”
Wily b.a.s.t.a.r.d. ”You are mad.”
Ian grinned in acknowledgment, but he remained undeterred. ”It's not as cracked as you a.s.sume. Only a few guards remain to watch the palace. Which is most likely why Conall has been using it. The little s.h.i.+te probably loves to thumb his nose at Victoria by hiding the werewolf there.”
”Only a few guards.” The table creaked as she leaned over it. ”And if you get caught, you can be charged with high treason.”
”I will not be caught.”
Daisy had to take a breath to keep from shouting. ”Just how do intend to get in?”
Ian blinked then. ”I'm taking Mary Chase with me.”
”Oh-ho no.” Daisy's hand curled into a fist upon the table. ”Not that, that... moll.”
His lips quirked. ”She is not a moll. All right, perhaps she is, but she is also a very good spy. I need her to guide me in.”
”Of course you do. Perhaps she'll let you feel her bosom as well.” And Daisy would hunt her down and claw her gleaming, golden eyes out.
Being a fool, Ian wagged his brows. ”D'ye think she might?” Squinting, he stroked his chin. ”Perhaps she would at that, grat.i.tude for me bringing her into danger, I suppose.”
”Oh, stop!” She tossed the table linen at him, which he ducked with a laugh. ”I am going with you,” she said when he straightened.
He laughed again, and not without a little humor. ”You see, la.s.s, there is where you are wrong. You”-he pointed a long finger at her scowling face-”are going to be nice and safe at home with Talent keeping guard.”
She grabbed the finger and hauled his hand, and thus him, close. ”I do believe you must be suffering some malady of the mind if you think that will come to pa.s.s.”
”Daisy...”
”I am not without resources, Ian.”
Her curt response gave him pause. ”What are you saying?”
Daisy took a breath. ”I have a power as well.”
Oddly, he didn't look as shocked as she expected, but rather relieved. ”Were you planning to tell me anytime soon?”
”I'm telling you now. I found out the night you let your despicable brother tear you to shreds. And”-she braced herself-”it involves dirt.”
”Dirt,” he repeated.
She wrinkled her nose. ”Bother. I hate dirt.”
When he lifted his brows in exaggerated query, she sighed. ”You see, I can move the earth, make it quake, part, surge, and so forth. I can control the plants, trees.”
He closed his eyes. ”I did not dream those lycans being speared by tree roots, did I? Or the flowers in the garden.”
”I fear not.”