35

A ll right," said Graham once everyone had finished fawning over their new machines. "Back to the planning."

Elizabeth led the way. "Time to devise our offensive attack."

"You mean our defense," Jacob corrected her.

"She's right," said Philippa. "George Washington opined two decades ago that ‘offensive operations' are the surest means of defense. And look what he's managed to accomplish."

"He had an entire army at his disposal," Adrian pointed out.

"We have… things," said Marjorie. "In addition to our new devices."

Tommy opened the basket at her feet and pulled out a handsome black-and-gold military coat. "I created Wynchester regimentals based on the family coat of arms. We may not be a real army either, but there's no reason we cannot look like one." She grinned at Kuni. "Yours is absolutely riddled with hiding spots for daggers, of course."

Kuni blew her a kiss.

"The uniforms are gorgeous." Elizabeth held out her hand. "May I?"

Tommy passed her the coat. "I made yours a size too big, in case you wished to wear chain mail beneath."

"How did you know we would be attacked by arrows?" Stephen asked.

"I didn't know," Tommy answered. "But I do know Elizabeth. I'd wager a meat pie she's wearing chain mail at this very moment."

Elizabeth's cheeks heated further, though not for the reason her siblings likely assumed. She would have been wearing chain mail… if she hadn't spent the morning making love to Stephen. There had been little time to do more than throw on a wrinkled gown.

Then again, that might be exactly what most of her siblings imagined.

"This is excellent craftsmanship," said Stephen, clearly impressed. "Though I am not familiar with the Wynchester coat of arms."

Marjorie flipped through her sketchbook and tilted one of the pages in his direction. Two animals rose rampant on their hind legs on either side of the imposing black shield.

"You intimidate your enemies with… a kitten… and a hedgehog?" Stephen asked.

"We took a few artistic liberties with the original medieval design," Marjorie said proudly.

"Wynchester animals are the cleverest and fiercest in England," Jacob added. He leaned forward to drum his fingers on the stone floor while making clicking noises with his tongue.

Tiglet, a three-year-old calico cat, scampered into the Great Hall in a blur of tricolor fur. Coming right behind waddled the adorable, if less agile, Tickletums—Elizabeth's personal favorite.

"You really do bring a kitten and a hedgehog everywhere you go?" Stephen said in surprise.

"They would follow us anyway, even if we didn't," Elizabeth explained. "That's a homing cat and a homing hedgehog. They've been trained to consider Jacob's current whereabouts as home." She lowered her voice. "One of them is significantly better at the task than the other, but I would never leave Tickletums behind."

"Is that the…"

"Hedgehog. The homing cat is Tiglet."

Philippa scooped up the cat. "Tommy loaned this kitten to me once, and he kept escaping. But now he treats me like a real Wynchester."

Tommy kissed her cheek. "You are a real Wynchester."

"What props did you bring?" Stephen asked Philippa.

"Wait, I haven't finished." Tommy pulled a second army coat from her basket.

Stephen leaned forward. "That looks just like Reddington's!"

And Stephen would look handsomer than their enemy wearing it. Or wearing nothing at all. Elizabeth waggled her brows at him meaningfully.

"It matches on purpose," Tommy agreed. "One never knows when one might need to infiltrate the enemy's ranks and cause confusion amongst his soldiers."

"I adore causing confusion," said Adrian.

"I'd rather charge straight ahead and poke holes in them," said Elizabeth.

"Seconded," said Kuni.

"Are we sure we shouldn't just stay inside the castle where it's safe?" Philippa asked.

"It's not a sustainable defense. Not with Reddington," Elizabeth explained. "The battle won't end until someone surrenders, and Reddington won't surrender unless forced to do so at sword-point. We have no other choice but to fight back before he can cause irreversible structural damage."

A deafening boom sounded outside the castle, vibrating through the stone floor.

"Is he firing at us?" Philippa's jaw dropped in disbelief. "We're supposed to have peace until ten o'clock tomorrow morning!"

Marjorie ran to the closest window. "It looks like they're practicing. I'll wager that's the loophole. The cannonball landed twenty feet short of the castle."

"Small comfort," said Philippa. "He dragged that cannon through a forest. He can push it twenty feet closer."

"Let me at him," said Elizabeth. "I'll solve this problem with hand-to-hand combat."

Jacob stopped her. "No you won't. You have a sword. Reddington has a cannon."

"He's overcompensating," she muttered.

"He's calibrating," said Stephen. "First shots are often to establish range."

Kuni leaned forward. "About the battle royal. What's royal about it?"

"Nothing." Elizabeth explained, "It's a term that means a fight to the finish. Unlimited combatants against unlimited combatants, with the victory going to the last man standing." She winked at her sister-in-law. "Or women."

"For now, at least, we're protected by a castle," said Adrian.

" Are we?" Jacob asked. "Harbrook is very old."

"Which works to our advantage," Tommy told him. "With only one visible entrance and all the ground-floor windows angled into embrasure arrow slits, Reddington has limited ways to breach the castle."

"The upper floors have regular windows," Graham pointed out.

"Only you could scale a sheer wall to access them," Tommy said fondly.

Jacob frowned. "Only Graham could climb up with his bare hands. Reddington certainly has access to ladders and ropes."

"And we have Stephen," Elizabeth said. "He can turn every wall and window into a death trap."

Marjorie grinned. "I cannot wait to paint a commemorative portrait of Reddington's ignominious defeat."