“What do you mean?”
“The attacks happened in London, yes? I don’t know of anyone bound to us who went away during that time. We were all working on our message to you for when you returned. The one you didn’t respond to.”
Grantham stared at her. “What message?”
“We reached out with requests,” she said. “Weeks ago. And your response back made it clear you did not care for what we demanded.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “I never saw demands.”
“The letter returned was signed by you.” She pulled a folded paper from her pocket and handed it to him.
He stared because the hand was, indeed, almost identical to his own. The signature even more like his. But he hadn’t written this message, he was certain of it.
He was about to ask more questions when the door opened and Dash entered the room. Giabella took a step toward him before she stopped herself.
“Dash, what is it?” Grantham asked, his ears still ringing from all these shocks.
“I’m sorry to intrude, but we’ve just received a message about Lady Ophelia.” Dash sounded…panicked. The man never sounded that way, and Grantham’s heart began to throb out of control as he rushed toward him.
“In regards to what?”
“She’s been taken, Your Majesty, by members of this woman’s group.”
CHAPTER 21
Grantham pivoted on Marabelle, all sense of balance lost in the wake of such terrible news. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, pulling at her arms as Jonah grabbed for them to hold her in place. “I have no idea who Lady Ophelia even is!”
“That is fucking rubbish,” Remi snapped. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
The queen inclined her head. “I have heard the word.”
“If you’ve been studying, one must also assume you’ve been spying.” Marabelle flinched slightly and Grantham knew he had hit a mark. “And if you knew Ophelia was important to me, she would be the perfect new target for you.”
“I haven’t had targets before,” Marabelle snapped. “For God’s sake, will you listen to me? I had nothing to do with the attacks on the princesses. I had nothing to do with the kidnapping of anyone.”
Grantham stared at her. He had always believed himself to be a good judge of character. He knew Ilaria to be. And right now his sister believed this woman. And somehow…so did he.
“Then why?” he said, holding out a hand to take the missive Dash had brought in. He glanced down and read it out loud. “Give in to our demands or your lover’s blood will be spilled.”
He shivered as he noted the piece of cloth sewn to the paper. He had seen Ophelia in that gown earlier, watching her as she slipped down the hallways. He’d so wanted to go to her, touch her to take some of her strength before this nightmare began.
“Ophelia,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
“May I?” Marabelle took the note and scanned it. “I…I think whoever wrote this also wrote the missive I brought today. Look at the l. And the way the t is crossed.”
He leaned in and examined the two side by side. She was correct. Though the handwriting on the note supposedly from him did look very much like his own, those two letters had similarities in both missives.
“Someone wishes each of us to mistrust the other. To put us at war,” he murmured.
“Who would benefit from such a conflict?” Giabella asked.
Grantham lifted his gaze and tightened his jaw. “Blairford,” he murmured, rushing around his desk to grab his last message from the courtier from his desk. It was a list of engagements from a week ago, something Grantham had meant to discard but had been too distracted by Ophelia’s presence to do so. Now he held it next to the others and there it was, in black and white. The same slant to the l, the same squiggled line to the t.
“He was manipulating this all along,” he murmured.
“He arranged for the attack on Ilaria,” Jonah whispered.
“And on me,” Sasha added with a shiver. “But why?”
“To make me want to react violently to my own people,” Grantham whispered. “Because once I did, it would set a tone, keep me from ever allowing them too much leeway. He wanted a war to make me a despot. Hated and feared, because he saw that as a way to retain power over me.”
Dash nodded, his expression sick. “Blairford would certainly have the power to intercept the demands Miss Fowler said her group sent to you, being your courtier.”
“And the letter from Ilaria describing the situation with Miss Fowler,” Jonah added. “He could have intercepted them even after he was gone from the palace. But with less power, he couldn’t manage to get them all. He might have been interrupted in that plan and hence, he had to take Ophelia.”
Dash straightened up slightly. “Just a few days ago, I sacked one of the footmen, who I realized was related to Blairford. He’d never disclosed it.”
“That might have been his last hard connection,” Grantham mused. “If true, Blairford could have become desperate.” He ran a hand through his hair as he tried not to buckle in utter terror.
Ophelia was with this man. This man who would create such violence for power. He would kill her, that was evident.
“Your Majesty, I do have connections in your walls,” Marabelle said. “One of them might have seen something. Do I have your word you will not punish them if they reveal themselves?”
“Yes,” he said. “They will have commendations, in fact, if they can help me get to Ophelia.”
Jonah motioned to her. “Let me help connect you with your people, Miss Fowler.”
Grantham gave him a grateful smile before he turned to Dash. “I need a mount and a gun.”
Giabella rushed forward and caught his hands. “Grantham, you are king of this country. You cannot rush out to face off with such a man. It is too dangerous.”
He squeezed her hands. “I will not stand by helpless, Mama. I will not be manipulated any longer or controlled. I love her.”
Her expression softened. “I know.”
“Then you know why I can’t stay here.”
She nodded and cast a glance at Dash. “Will you go with him?”
“I and many others,” Dash said as he moved to the door. “I swear I will protect him with my life, Gia.”
“As will I,” Remi said, and followed the secretary.
Sasha was on his heels. “I’ll fetch Thomas, as well.”
That left Ilaria and his mother in the room with Grantham. He looked at them both, these two women he adored. He drew a deep breath. “I hope you will not hate me for whatever the future holds.”
“As long as it holds your happiness and what you think is best for our people, no one who matters could ever hate you,” Ilaria said softly. “Now go.”
He kissed her cheek and then their mother’s and ran from the room, his mind turning to Ophelia and how he could save her before it was too late. Before he lost the best thing in his life.