Page 90 of A Problem Princess

“Clayton?” she whispered.

With no choice but to let time pass on, he regretfully rolled onto his side and brought her over against his front. His lips rested against her temple as she slipped her arm possessively over his waist and lay her head against his chest. He was certain she could feel the pounding of his heart against her cheek. Could she also feeling the breaking of it? “Yes?”

“I love you.”

The soft words shattered him.

He futilely tightened his arms around her, as if he could simply will the two of them to be together beyond the dawn. He squeezed shut his eyes and confessed into the shadows, “I love you, too.”

Twenty-Seven

The morning sunlight was just peeking through the narrow slit of a window high on the wall as Cordelia stood in front of the dressing table and fussed with her hair. The door of her room stood wide open to give the appearance of propriety, although it had been locked all through the night and during those short hours when they’d held each other in their arms. Emotion knotted in her throat.Toopainfully short.

From across the tower, she could hear the aunties starting their day. Amusement tightened her chest at how noisy they were being. Most likely, it was because they knew where Clayton had spent the night and were doing their best to cover all noise from her room and to remind the men in the Armory below that they’d kept careful watch on her all night, even though they hadn’t.

Clayton was right, she had to admit. The aunties were the perfect chaperones. As if assured by their alibi, he shamelessly leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and watched as she pinned up her hair.

Dear God, how the sight of him took her breath away! Her fingertips itched to brush that rakish lock of hair off his forehead, and her lips ached to kiss him. If she wasn’t careful, other places would soon ache for him, too…most of all her heart. But none of them could be satisfied.

Last night had been the last time they would ever be alone together.

She looked away to keep the anguish from overwhelming her. Her fingers trembled as she twisted her hair into a chignon and placed the last pin. “You have a plan.” She cast him a glance. “What happens next?”

“The men downstairs will escort you to Westminster and make certain you’re presented to Parliament in your uncle’s place.”

Her heart skipped. “The men…not you?”

His eyes dimmed, although his expression never changed. Both of them were putting up brave faces this morning. “Not me.”

Trepidation pricked at the backs of her knees. “But I can’t do this without you.”

“Yes, my brave princess, you can.”

His assurance did little to put her at ease. “I want you there.” Her voice lowered as she took a step toward him, ever mindful of not straying too close and of how he had to remain outside her room, even if only by an inch. “Clayton, Ineedyou with me.”

“I’ll draw too much attention.”

A lie. One said to protect her, yet still a lie. “We’re going into Parliament to prevent one reigning monarch from starting a revolution and overthrowing another by sending me into the hall in his place.” Her brow inched up. “Andyouwill draw too much attention?”

He admitted quietly, “If anyone sees me, I’ll be arrested on sight.”

“Not if I protect you.”

His lips quirked into a half smile, yet his expression somehow remained as grim as ever. “Even if you try to protect me. That is, if I’m not shot first.”

Her breath strangled in her throat. “You mean by Scepter’s men?”

“I mean by the Home Office.” He pushed himself away from the doorframe. “I haven’t told you everything.”

She steeled herself for the worst.

“Since the attack on the town house, I’ve been considered a rogue agent. The palace blames me for your disappearance and claims I was behind the attack. At least that’s what they’re saying in public to deflect from their failure to keep you safe. God only knows what they’re saying in private. But certainly none of it’s good.” His eyes fixed on hers. “Call me old-fashioned, Princess, but I don’t want the woman I love to see me killed in front of her.”

Her blood turned to ice, and she sank onto the edge of the bed to keep from sinking to the floor.

“No.” She clenched her hands into fists. “I willnotlet that happen. I’ll talk to Lord Sidmouth and Lord Liverpool—I’ll throw myself at Cousin George’s feet if I have to! I’ll explain everything.”

“They won’t listen.”