“To garner your sympathy. Perhaps he thinks you will find him more appealing if you must constantly fret over him.”
“He wants me to think him a weakling?” If so, it was an absurd theory, Eleanor decided. She liked strong, capable men, not frail, impotent ones.
“Or perhaps,” Damon added, “someone else merely wants to make the prince look weak in your eyes.”
“That explanation seems more plausible to me,” she said thoughtfully as she glanced down at the arrow in his hand. “And for the prince's sake, we must assume he is an innocent victim. In fact, I think he must be warned. I had no time to discuss my suspicions with him, either last evening or today. And Signor Vecchi was clearly not interested in hearing them.”
She returned her gaze to Damon. “Will you help me, Damon? We must stop these attacks and determine who is behind them. The next time could end his life.”
“Certainly I will help. It may be time to hire Bow Street to investigate and perhaps provide the prince personal protection.”
The Bow Street Runners, Eleanor knew, were a private police force. “I think hiring them would be wise. Will you contact them, or shall I?”
“I will deal with it. Meanwhile you are to keep away from Lazzara.”
His pronouncement gave her pause. “Keep away?”
“Yes, sweeting. I don't want you anywhere near him.”
When Eleanor started to protest, Damon held up a hand, saying al
most grimly, “Don't argue with me about this, Elle. I am not about to let you be hurt.”
It made sense that Damon would want to protect her after losing his brother the way he had, yet his concern gave her a warm feeling. Even so, she was not pleased to have him dictating to her.
“I cannot keep away entirely. I am supposed to attend a balloon ascension with the prince tomorrow. One of his countrymen is an aeronaut and has promised to let us ride in his gas balloon. Even leaving aside the fact that I was greatly looking forward to the adventure, it would be rude to cancel at this late moment, since the prince went to so much trouble to arrange the treat for me.”
Damon relented, although with evident reluctance. “Very well, you may go, but I intend to be there to keep an eye on you.”
“You were not invited, Damon,” Eleanor pointed out in exasperation.
“That hardly matters. You are not attending without me.”
Instead of replying, she merely smiled pleasantly. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Lord Wrex-ham, but now I believe you have business with Bow Street?” Moving to the salon door, she opened it and stepped aside, as if encouraging his departure.
Damon crossed his arms over his chest, however, and remained exactly where he stood.
“The ascension may be canceled in any case,” Eleanor said finally. “After what happened today, the prince may not feel well enough to ride in a balloon.”
Damon's jaw hardened. “That is not good enough, Elle. I want your promise that you will keep away from Lazzara unless I am present.”
She pressed her lips together, remaining stubbornly silent. She had already decided to end the prince's courtship. In fact, the outing tomorrow would be the last invitation she accepted from him. But Damon was a trifle too highhanded for her to bare her soul to him about her plans for her romance.
Still, she knew he wouldn't leave until she conceded. “Oh, very well, I promise.”
His grim expression relaxed a degree. “And you must swear that you will stop being such a damned heroine. Rescuing Lazzara could have been the death of you.”
“You would have done the same in my place.”
“That is different.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Pray don't tell me it is because you are a man.”
“It is, in part. I am physically stronger than you. You would have been no match for Lazzara had he tried to drag you under the water.”
His explanation mollified her a little. “I was not in much danger. Marcus taught me to swim when I was a girl, and I do it quite well.”
Damon's mouth curved wryly. “I cannot say I am surprised. You ride and shoot and fence with the best of them. And last evening you added thievery to your list of masculine accomplishments.”