Castles (Crown's Spies #4)

She closed the guard out by pulling the French doors to the salon closed. Sir Winters stood by her side. He held a brown leather bag under one arm. She ushered him over to the settee.

"If you're indisposed, shouldn't you be in bed, Princess?" She smiled at the physician. "I'm not that ill," she announced. "I have a little tickle in my throat. That's all."

"Hot tea is just the ticket, then," Sir Winters returned. "A spot of brandy would also do the trick."

Because the white-haired man was being so sincere and looking so concerned, she couldn't continue with the lie any longer. "I had another purpose for asking you to come here," she admitted. "I would like to talk to you about Colin."

Alesandra sat down in the chair across from the physician and folded her hands in her lap. "I used trickery to get you to come here," she admitted. She acted as though she had just confessed a dark sin. "My throat really isn't paining me. 'Tis the truth, the only time it hurts is when I want to shout at my stubborn husband and I know I can't." Sir Winters smiled. "Colin can be stubborn, can't he?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"He's ill, then?" the physician asked, trying to understand the real motive behind his summons.

She shook her head. "It's his leg," she explained in a whisper. "He won't talk about his injury. He's sensitive about it, you see, but I know he's in terrible pain. I was wondering if something could be done to ease his discomfort."

The physician leaned back against the cushions. The worry on the princess's face told him her concern was genuine. "He hasn't told you how he came by the affliction, has he?"

"No."

"A shark took a bite out of his leg, Princess. I tended him, and there was a time when I considered taking the leg off. Colin's partner, Nathan, wouldn't let me. Your husband, you see, wasn't in any condition to give me his opinion. He blessedly slept through the worst of it."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Flannaghan came inside carrying a silver tray. Neither Alesandra nor Sir Winters said another word until the butler had served both of them cups of hot tea and left the salon again.

Sir Winters pushed his bag out of his way and leaned forward to help himself to the assortment of sweet biscuits from the tray. He popped one into his mouth and then took a long swallow of the tea.

"Colin would be extremely upset if he knew we were discussing his condition," she admitted. "And I do feel guilty because I know he'll be displeased with me."

"Nonsense," Sir Winters countered. "You have his best interests at heart. I won't be telling him about our talk. Now, then, as to your question. How do you help him? I would suggest laudanum or brandy when the pain becomes insistent, but I know Colin won't take either."

"Is pride the reason?" she asked, trying to understand.

Winters shook his head. "Dependency," he countered. "Laudanum is addictive, Princess, and some say spirits can be addictive as well. Regardless, Colin won't take the chance."

"I see," she replied when the physician didn't immediately continue.

"I also suggested a brace of steel be made to fit from the knee to the ankle. Your husband was appalled by that suggestion."

"He's a proud man."

Winters nodded. "He's a sight more clever than I am too," he remarked. "I didn't believe he'd ever walk again without assistance. He's proven me wrong. What muscle is left has strengthened enough to support him. He barely limps now."

"At night, when he's weary, then he limps."

"Hot towels should be applied then. It won't make the leg stronger, of course, but it will ease his discomfort. A soothing massage would also help."

She wondered how in heaven's name Colin would ever allow her to follow those suggestions. That was her problem, however, not Sir Winters', and she would worry about it after he'd left.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"He should get off his feet when the pain intensifies," Sir Winters announced. "He shouldn't wait until it's agonizing."

Alesandra nodded agreement. She was thoroughly discouraged, but she kept her expression serene so the physician wouldn't know how disappointed she was feeling. His suggestions were superficial at best.

"You give me recommendations meant to deal with the symptoms, Sir Winters, but I was hoping you might have an idea or two regarding the cause."

"You're hoping for a miracle," Sir Winters replied. "Nothing can be done to make the leg fit again, Princess." His voice was filled with kindness.

"Yes," she whispered. "I was hoping for a miracle, I suppose. Still, your suggestions will prove helpful. If you think of anything more to add, will you pen me a note? I could use all the advice you can give."

Sir Winters took the last biscuit from the tray. His mind was fully occupied with Colin's condition and he didn't realize he'd eaten all of the treats. Alesandra filled his cup with more tea.

"Are all husbands stubborn?" she asked the physician.

Sir Winters smiled. "It seems to be a trait most husbands share."

He told her several amusing stories concerning titled men who refused to acknowledge they were in need of a physician. His favorite was the tale about the Marquess of Ackerman. The gentleman had been involved in a duel. He'd been shot in the shoulder and wouldn't allow anyone to see to the injury. Winters had been called by his brother to tend to the man.

"We found him at White's at one of the gaming tables," he told her. "It took three of his friends to drag him away. When we got his jacket off, why, there was blood everywhere."

"Did the marquess recover?"

Winters nodded. "He was too stubborn to die," he remarked. "Kept referring to the injury as a paltry nick until he passed out. I advised his wife to tie him to the bed until he recovered."

Alesandra smiled over that picture. "Colin's every bit as stubborn," she announced. She let out a sigh. "I would appreciate it if you would keep this conference secret, please. As I said before, Colin is quite sensitive about his leg."

Sir Winters placed his teacup and saucer back on the tray, picked up his satchel, and stood up to take his leave. "You needn't worry, Princess. I won't say a word about this visitation. You'd be surprised if you knew how many wives seek my advice concerning their husbands' welfare."

The door to the salon opened just as the physician was reaching for the handle. Colin moved out of the way to allow Winters room. He gave the physician a quick nod in greeting and turned to his wife. "Flannaghan said you were ill." He didn't give her time to answer but turned to Winters. "What's wrong with her?"

Alesandra didn't want the physician to lie for her. "I had a tickle in my throat, but it's better now. Sir Winters suggested hot tea," she added with a nod. "Yes, I did," Winters agreed.

Something wasn't quite right, but Colin couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. Alesandra couldn't look him in the eye. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't telling him the truth. She didn't look ill. Her cheeks were high with color, indicating she was embarrassed about something. He decided then he would have to wait until they were alone to find out what was really wrong.

Alesandra stood by Colin's side while he visited with the physician. She happened to glance over her shoulder and found Flannaghan standing just a few feet away. The butler was giving her a sympathetic expression.

She already felt guilty because she'd lied to her husband and Flannaghan's expression made her feel worse.

Her motives were pure, she immediately told herself. She let out a little sigh then. She'd used that very excuse when she'd made the second set of books for the mother superior. A sin is still a sin, or so the nun had proclaimed when she'd found out about the little deception. Large or little, it didn't matter. God, the mother superior assured her with great authority in her voice, kept an accurate list of each and every sin committed by every man and woman on this earth. Alesandra's list, the nun speculated, was probably long enough to reach the bottom of the ocean.

Alesandra didn't believe she'd sinned that much or that often. She imagined her list was about the length of her shadow by now. She wondered if her Maker had two columns on his sheet of paper for her—one for small infractions and the other for more substantial offenses.

She was pulled back to the present rather abruptly when Sir Winters said, "I was sorry to hear about the loss of the Diamond, Colin. Bad piece of luck, that."

"You've lost a diamond?" Alesandra asked, trying to understand.

Colin shook his head. "It's a ship, Alesandra. She went down with a full cargo. Winters, how did you hear about it so soon? I only just found out yesterday."

"A friend of mine had some business dealings at Lloyd's today. One of their agents mentioned it. They insured the loss, didn't they?"

"Yes."

"Is it true it was the second vessel this year you and Nathan have lost?"

Colin nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Alesandra asked.

She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. It was a difficult task.

"I didn't want you to worry," Colin explained.

She didn't believe he'd given her the full reason. Yes, it was probably true that he didn't want to worry her, but more important, he didn't want to share his burdens with her. She tried not to be offended. Colin had kept his own counsel for a long while and it surely wasn't easy for him to take anyone into his confidence, not even his wife.

She was going to have to be patient, she decided. Colin would have to get used to having her around before he felt comfortable enough to confide in her.

Her husband was still talking to the physician when she excused herself and went upstairs. She went to her room and started her list of suggestions Winters had given her to help ease the pain in Colin's leg, but her mind wasn't on the task.

He should have told her about the ship, damn it. If he was worried, she had every right to be worried too. Husbands and wives were supposed to share their problems, weren't they?

Flannaghan came to fetch her for dinner. On the way downstairs, she asked him for another favor.

"Have you heard about the Viscount of Talbolt's troubles?"

"Oh, yes," Flannaghan replied. "Everyone's talking about it. Lady Roberta left her husband."

"Colin has forbidden me to talk to the viscount and I must go along with his wishes. My husband believes I'll upset the man."

"Why do you want to talk to him?"

"I believe there might be a connection between his wife's sudden disappearance and that of my friend, Lady Victoria. She disappeared, too, Flannaghan. I was wondering if you would mind talking to his servants for me. I want to find out if Lady Roberta received any little presents from an unknown admirer, you see."

"What kinds of gifts, Princess?"

She shrugged. "Flowers—perhaps chocolates," she said. "Wouldn't the maids notice such gifts?"

Flannaghan nodded. "Yes, of course they'd notice. They would talk amongst themselves, too. They won't talk to me, though. Now Cook could learn a thing or two when she goes to market tomorrow. Shall I put the request to her?"

"Yes, please," Alesandra replied.

"What are you two whispering about?"

Colin asked that question from the entrance to the dining room. He smiled over the startle he gave his wife. She jumped a good foot. "You seem a bit nervous tonight," he remarked.

She didn't have a quick answer for that remark. She followed Flannaghan into the dining room. Colin held her chair out for her and then took his place at the head of the table, adjacent to her.

"Am I going to have to stay locked inside for a full month?" she asked.

"Yes."

He was occupied sorting through a stack of correspondence and didn't bother to glance her way when he answered her.

The man couldn't even take time away from his work to eat a proper meal. She wondered if he had digestive problems and almost asked him that personal question. She changed her mind and turned the topic to a more pressing matter.

"What about Catherine's first ball? It's only a week away, Colin. I don't want to miss it."

"I'll tell you all about it."

"You'd go without me?"

She sounded wounded. He smiled. "Yes," he answered. "I have to attend," he added. "And you have to be reasonable about this."

The set of his jaw told her he wasn't going to give in. She drummed her fingertips on the tabletop in agitation.

"It's rude to read your correspondence while at the table."

Colin was so occupied reading the letter from his partner, he didn't hear his wife's rebuke. He finished the long missive, then put the papers on the table.

"Nathan's wife has given him a baby girl. They've named her Joanna. The letter's almost three months old and he mentioned that as soon as Sara is feeling well enough, he's going to bring her and the baby back to London for a brief visit. Jimbo will watch the offices while he's gone."

"Who is Jimbo?" Alesandra asked, smiling over the odd name.

"A very good friend," Colin answered. "He's captain of one of our ships, the Emerald, but the vessel is undergoing some much needed repairs so Jimbo has time on his hands."

"This is all good news, Colin," she remarked.

"Yes, of course."

"Then why are you frowning?"

He hadn't realized he was frowning until she asked him why. He leaned back in his chair and gave her his full attention. "Nathan wants to offer ten or twenty shares of stock for sale. I hate the idea and I know that deep down Nathan feels the same way. I understand, however. He has a family now and wants to provide for them. He and Sara have been living in rented rooms, and now that the baby's here he wants more permanent quarters."

"Why are you two so opposed to stockholders?"

"We want to maintain control."

She was exasperated with him. "If only ten or twenty shares are sold, you and Nathan will still be the major stockholders and therefore in complete control."

He didn't seem impressed with her logic, for he continued to frown. She tried another approach. "What if you sold the stock to family members?"