Blood roared in my temples. I calculated if I could make it past the guard and throw the bastard over the balcony before I was cut down. My hand was on my sword. I turned and took a step, then came to a startled halt.
Prince George walked out onto the veranda.
“Your Highness,” Will breathed. He dropped into a deep bow, schooling his expression to vague pleasure before straightening and facing the prince regent.
“Thank you very much, Michael,” he said, a pleased smile on his ruddy face.
The man, Michael, bowed and left, casting a disdainful eye at Will over his shoulder before slipping through the curtains. He brushed past me without a glance. I kept my eye on him, committing his face to memory, unable to follow and gut the bastard. I didn’t dare leave Will, impotent as I was to do anyt
