Page 70 of The Hood and his Thief

Nate set his knife down and put one hand in Contessa’s lap, interlacing his fingers with hers so she let go of the now wrinkled silk of her skirt.

“They’ll try again,” Nate broke the heavy silence. “Especially since he can use you as a scapegoat.” He nodded at Rhosyn.

She nodded in agreement. “You need to keep the King safe at all costs.”

“The sponsorships were supposed to help the Talented. Instead, Mr. Gower is using them to try to start the Inquiries all over again. To turn people against the Talented.” Contessa’s voice cut through the stillness of the night like a blade, so sharp Rhosyn nearly flinched.

Her heart squeezed at the anger in Contessa’s words—how much it must hurt to have her life’s work turned against her, when she had put her own father in jail to put a stop to the persecution of the Talented.

Before Rhosyn could offer any words of comfort, Nate squeezed his wife’s hand. “We’ll arrest Mr. Gower.”

Contessa shook her head. “He’ll be out of jail in no time without hard proof. You know that better than anybody.” She fixed Nate with a pointed look and he ducked his head, acknowledging that she had married him in the first place to get a hold of hard evidence necessary to send a known gangster to jail.

“The only proof we have is the testimony of a person already wanted for the attempted assassination and documents that were stolen from the palace by a gangster. Even then, the sponsorship contracts are circumstantial at best,” Contessa explained.

“We have to prove he was behind the attempt at the party to clear Rhosyn’s name,” Ansel chimed in.

Rhosyn twitched in surprise, as he had been silent through her whole story, letting her tell it uninterrupted. She glanced at him to find his gaze fixed on her.

“And what do you have to gain from all of this?” Nate asked, fixing Ansel with a deep stare, sharp enough to look into Ansel’s soul. Knowing Nate, he probably was.

Ansel raised his chin. “I’ve spent my life trying to give the Talented a better life too, albeit in a different way than you. This is my fight as well.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “And clearing Rhosyn’s name?”

Rhosyn cleared her throat and glared at Nate, clearly trying to intimate that now was not the time for such discussions. His eyes darted over to her, and she detected the slightest hint of amusement in them before they landed on Ansel once again.

She supposed this was his payback for the way she ruthlessly teased him about Contessa when they were first married.

“Rhosyn should have the chance for the life she wants too,” Ansel said firmly.

Crimson climbed up Rhosyn’s neck to her face, and she looked down at her hands. Somehow, she felt more exposed than if Ansel had admitted to their truly debauched activities on a trapeze a few days earlier. But this statement went farther than skin deep, flaying her open more thoroughly than something that would just result in incessant teasing from Nate and Contessa. Rhosyn had fallen for her kidnapper, and the feelings were reciprocated.

“Then we will bring to justice the people really responsible for the plot against our king.” The voice was Contessa’s, proud and firm. Rhosyn glanced up at her friend, finding some warmth returned to her steely gaze.

If anybody understood falling in love with somebody you didn’t intend to, it was Contessa.

“What we need is to catch Mr. Gower and his Talented in the act, so there is no way he can wiggle out of the charges,” Contessa mused, her brain whirring almost visibly as she turned her mind to planning.

“If we set up a prime opportunity for the King to be assassinated, we might be able to entrap Mr. Gower into trying again.” Ansel nodded along.

Nate frowned. “I’m not sure it would make me a good bodyguard if we used the king as bait in a setup.”

Contessa shook her head. “We won’t use him as bait. The king needs to go into hiding. Get out of the line of fire until we know the threat on his life has passed. We need to come up with a way to sneak him out of London.”

“I think we might have a way,” Rhosyn interjected. She looked over at Ansel, and understanding dawned across his face.

If he could dress Talented up as acrobats and clowns and smuggle them out on his circus train, then he could certainly sneak out a king.

“Archer’s Circus,” he chimed in. “We’ve been offering Talented safe passage out of the city with our performers for years. Our train is scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow. We may just have picked up another act while we were in town.”

Nate’s unscarred brow raised in curiosity at the admission, but there was no time to get into the hidden history of Archer’s Circus—not when Contessa’s eyes were already narrowing in renewed calculations.

“Then the King will take the train to his country estate where he will stay until Mr. Gower is arrested. Who knows how long he will have to rule from there, so I’ll have to accompany him,” Contessa thought out loud.

“And I’ll be going to guard him,” Nate added.

“No.” Contessa’s voice was firm, causing her husband’s gaze to snap to her. “You’ll be needed here to make it seem like the King never left and apprehend anybody who participates in the next assassination attempt.”