“I think it best if you go inside, my sweet girl,” I tell her.
“What’s happening?” she repeats but this time to me.
“Stay out of it, hen,” Rhys says in my ear. “It’s for them to work out.”
“I don’t like it,” I reply before taking a deep breath because my baby is all right.
“Aye, I know you don’t,” he says before turning to his sister. “Where were you just now?”
“I was in the study,” she says. “Why? Don’t tell me I have to go to tea with Mum and Grandpa and that creepy man…”
“What creepy man?” Rhys asks.
“We’ll get to that in a second,” I tell him. “So, you knew your mother was taking tea in the salon?”
“Of course,” she says. “They came to ask me to join them. I didn’t like the way that man was looking at me, so I declined and used little Leo as my excuse.”
“So she knew he was with you and not out here?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says. “Why would he be out here? It’s too dangerous for a sweet baby to be out here.”
“Aye,” Rhys agrees, realizing what’s going on.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“Unfortunately,” we have to go face them and pretend that nothing is wrong while Leo’s men look into what happened here. Little Leo is well and that’s what matters most. Dahlia will look after him tonight while we’re out.”
“What?” I gasp. “No, I can’t possibly go out after this scare.”
“Aye, you will because that’s what they want is for you to not go. Saoirse and her father want to take the royal box at the opera tonight so that it appears as though they’re the ones in power.”
“Oh.”
“Aye,” he says gently. “‘Oh.’Now let’s go inside.”
“There’s something I have to tell you before we go in there…” I begin to fret again.
“How many?” he asks with a gentle smile.
Confused, I ask, “How many what?”
“How many dogs and cats did you adopt today?” he clarifies.
“Oh that, just one.” I laugh. “But how do you feel about an aviary?”
Chapter 11
Watching
“An aviary of rescues for my hen sounds lovely,” Rhys replies with an indulgent smile for me, but it’s gone in an instant. “Unfortunately, those plans will have to wait until tomorrow, but I would like to hear your thoughts on the drive tonight.”
“What drive?”
“I’m afraid we’re due at the opera in a little over an hour,” he replies, looking at the Phillipe Patek watch on his wrist with a sigh.
“What?” I ask. “But why? You’ve only just come home.”
“I know,” he replies. “And I’d love nothing more than to spend the evening with you at home but duty calls…”