"Shoot a tree."
"A tree? Be quick about reminding me why I brought you on this mission again."
Pierce shrugged. "Because you need someone who has the social skills of a gentleman."
"And what do I have?"
"That of an ass," Pierce said happily and then added, "The donkey, not an actual ass, you get my meaning." He chuckled happily. "Now, is there anything else I need to know about this damsel? She's Russian? Escaping her horrid family in hopes to marry into the peerage? What else?"
Giving a shake of his head, Ash spread his hands. "I was told nothing more than to retrieve her and the guard and bring them into London."
"Guard?"
"Yes, guard. As in, she has a Royal Guard who remains loyal. My guess is they will be extremely difficult."
"Lovely." Pierce placed his dagger on the seat next to his pistols. "All accounted for. Now, let us be quick about this. I have a saucy wench waiting for me at The Beast's Scottish estate."
"I doubt the Royal Prince of Maksylov would approve of your behavior under his roof."
"The Beast is currently rotting in London." Pierce picked at a piece of lint on his trousers and shrugged. "Besides, I like to have my appetite sated before I travel for days on end with a beautiful woman."
Ash snapped to attention, bringing his head up almost painfully to regard the other man. "How do you know she's beautiful?"
Pierce shrugged and then grinned wickedly. "Damsels, my friend, are always beautiful."
Ash hoped not. The last thing he needed was a self-absorbed princess. He was no nursemaid, and he would rather gouge his own eyes out than cater to a simpering female.