Like him, his younger brother by two years, known to most as Wilder, was employed by “her majesty’s secret service.” However, he was on the national security side—MI5.
Shiver sneaked a look at his phone. “He’s expected this afternoon.”
“Very good. You and he will get the trees.”
His first thought was to ask why the groundskeepers couldn’t handle it on their own, as they’d had even before his father’s illness, but he understood his mother was grasping for any semblance of what she considered normalcy. Choosing the trees that would be brought into the abbey and decorated for the holidays was something he, his father, and brother had done together until Shiver had turned eighteen and left for university.
“We will do,” he murmured, wondering how many trees his mother planned to decorate this year. Was more than one really necessary? It wasn’t as though they would be entertaining this holiday season.
His mother, Duchess Victoria, was the eldest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Cheshire, and still practiced what some believed to be archaic traditions of the English nobility.
“Come, sit with me,” said his mother, holding her hand out to him. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Shiver sat, but he had no intention of telling her anything. He also had no intention of lying, so he chose not to say anything.
“Have you seen your father this morning?” she asked.
Shiver nodded. “I read the news to him.”
His mother patted his hand. “You know how much he likes to catch up over his morning tea.”
He wasn’t sure his father had heard a word he’d read, and he’d certainly not had any tea, but as the doctors had told them, the important thing was that the family spent time with him and conversed whether the duke was able to respond or not.
“There’s more,” he heard her murmur.
“What’s that?”
“Something is on your mind, Thornton, and whatever it is, its weight is heavy.”
Even if he wanted to discuss it with his mother, he wouldn’t know where to begin.
“It’s a woman,” she murmured.
Shiver leaned closer. “It’s nothing,” he said softly. “Let it be, Duchess.”
“For now,” she said, standing and kissing his forehead. “I’ll check on your father.”
Shiver nodded and stood too, walking back over to the window.
It had been over a month since United Russia lifted the ten-million-dollar bounty they had on Orina “Losha” Kuznetsov’s head, and yet Shiver had no idea where she was and why she insisted on staying so far underground that no one could find her.
He’d called in every favor—and there had been many—but so far, he didn’t have a single lead as to where the bloody woman was hiding.
“You best be driving in the gate,” Shiver said when he answered his brother’s call a couple of hours later.
Wilder laughed. “At least an hour out, but before you blast me, I’ve spent the last thirty minutes listening to Sir Ranald tell me how he intends to fire you.”
Shiver laughed. “My Christmas wish come true.”
“What in the bloody hell did you do?”
Shiver pounded his fist on the desk of the office he’d been holed up in, cursing the impotence he felt as much as the walls surrounding him.
Ten minutes ago, his boss had summoned him, but Shiver wasn’t any closer to giving him the answer he sought than he had been two weeks ago when Rivet had first asked for his decision.
Sir Ranald “Rivet” Caird was a career British Intelligence officer for MI6 who, nine years prior, had been named chief. At the time, he’d been candid about his refusal to serve beyond a ten-year term.
The first in line to succeed him had been Merrigan Shaw, who was now Merrigan Shaw-Butler, happily married to Kade Butler, a founding partner of the private security and intelligence firm made up primarily of former CIA operatives—K19 Security Solutions. Merrigan had taken over as managing partner of the group and had made it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t return to MI6, regardless of the position offered.