Royal Bastard (Instantly Royal 1)

Nick got out of the car and took a look around downtown Bowhaven. A secondhand store down the road seemed to be getting a lot of foot traffic in and out. There was a bakery, which probably explained why he started to crave a croissant as soon as he stepped out of the car and took in a deep breath of pastry-scented air. A wiggly corgi stood in the window of a shop with a Fish and Chips sign hanging above the door. There was no way that didn’t violate health codes, but if no one else was complaining and he didn’t end up with a fur-covered fish stick, he wasn’t going to complain—not that he was going to be here long enough for that. Nope. Any minute now, he’d be on his way back to the airport and Bowhaven would be just another unpleasant memory in his past.

Nick waited until Daisy made it around her Peugeot and they stood on the sidewalk outside the pub facing each other before continuing the conversation. “I need to rent a car or get an Uber back to the airport.”

“When are you going?” she asked, shading her eyes against the setting sun and keeping her gaze locked on him.

Yesterday. Now. “As soon as possible.”

The breeze ruffled her short hair as she cocked her head and shook it from side to side. “Oh, that’s not going to happen, I’m afraid.”

The not-so-gentle march of ants with steel cleats sharpened to pinpoints made the back of his head ache. “Why’s that?”

“Well, Mr. High and Mighty at the big house isn’t the only one who’s got a lot riding on you becoming the next Earl of Englefield,” she answered. “So why don’t you take a look around the village and talk to some folks before you try to hire a car.” She gave him a jaunty grin. “But I’ll warn you now—no one’s going to give you a lift to the airport “

He looked around while the ants double-timed it across his s

kull. There wasn’t a rush of foot traffic on the sidewalk, but it was lively, and everyone was staring at him as they walked by. Some tipped their hats; others just gave him a nervous grin and cast their eyes downward as they passed. He may not know them, but the people of Bowhaven definitely knew who he was. And if what Daisy said was true, well then…

“You’re saying I’ve been town-napped?” Of all the ridiculous things to happen since that English private eye showed up on his doorstep a few months back to tell him that his grandfather the earl wanted to see him, this was the pinnacle.

“Village-napped, but yeah.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “That’s about the sum of it.”

Grinding his molars to fine powder, Nick took in the lay of the land. An old woman walking a cat—seriously, on a leash—smiled at him as she neared where he stood with Daisy. Southern manners pounded into him since birth kicked in, and he returned the old lady’s smile and took a step over to give her more room on the sidewalk as she passed.

“How far is it to the airport?”

Daisy chewed her bottom lip and looked up at the clear blue sky before answering. “Forty kilometers.”

As if that made any more sense to him than it being one hundred and fifty bowler hats long. “How many miles is that?”

She winked at him. “Too many to walk.”

The Chapman-Powell women were evil. Plain and simple. But they weren’t going to get the best of him. “I can rent a car and have them drive here to get me.”

“You could try.” She nodded and waved at a passing car. “But the roads getting out here can be confusing when the signs get turned around. And I’ll warn you now that GPS gets a little iffy in these parts.”

This is what happens when you accept rides from strangers. “Lady Lemons set this up, didn’t she?”

“Who?”

“Your sister,” he managed to ground out between clenched teeth.

She laughed. “Oh, that is the best nickname for her ever, but no, she didn’t.”

So this was just a Daisy Chapman-Powell–created hell. Good to know. “When you two work together, is there anything that could stand in your way?”

“Nothing we’ve found yet.” She gave him an assessing up-and-down that wasn’t sexual so much as it was deciding if he was worth the trouble of befriending. “Go ahead and have a look about the high-street shops. Someone will be happy to take you back to Dallinger Park when you’re ready to go home.”

He glanced up at the street sign clearly marking it as Yardley Road. “Where’s High Street?”

Daisy waved her hand toward the stores lining the street they were on. “This is.”

He looked back up at the street sign. “But it says it’s Yardley.”

“It is.” She nodded, as if they weren’t reenacting Abbott and Costello’s classic Who’s on First routine.

“But it’s also High Street?”

She nodded again. “Exactly.”