The Princess's Bodyguard

by Beverly Barton

  "I have only to look at the two of you together to know." The king squeezed Matt's shoulder. "You have the same look in your eyes that I once had whenever Adele's mother was anywhere near me. She was the center of my universe."

  "Father, really, we need to—"

  "No time to talk about love," the king said. "Matthew is not the man I would have chosen for you. But your choice is far better than mine." The king shook his head sadly. "We have much to do. First a public announce-ment proclaiming my acceptance and approval of your marriage. And of course there is no need to wait to bestow a knight­hood on Matthew. I'll do it at the same time I make the announcement about the royal wedding."

  "Knighthood?" Matt said.

  "Yes, yes, the prince consort should have a title of his own. I'll inform the printers that the wedding invitation should read Sir Matthew O'Brien." The king looked at Matt. "What is your full name?''

  "Matthew Desmond O'Brien."

  "I like the sound of it," the king said. "Sir Matthew Desmond O'Brien.

  Chapter 17

  He knew what must be done and knew that he alone could be the instrument of death. The princess had been heavily guarded night and day, and her husband had not left her side for a moment. Even if Dedrick had been al­lowed an audience with Her Highness, he could not do the deed himself. The future ruler of Orlantha and Balanchine must remain blameless. Although he longed to be at Dedrick's side to act as his counselor, his life could be sacrificed. For the cause. He would kill the princess today, on her wedding day, and go to his death, condemned as a murderer. But one day, when history recorded what he'd done, they would call him a patriot.

  He inspected himself in the full-length mirror, checking every detail of his attire. After placing his hat on his head, he donned his white gloves, marched from his office and went outside to the waiting limousine that would take him to the Erembourg Cathedral. No one would question his desire to speak alone with the princess. No guard would dare deny him access to Her Highness.

  Those few moments of prayer that tradition dictated for the princess would be her last moments on earth. Such a shame that her death was necessary. She would have been the perfect bride for Dedrick.

  "Matt, will you stop pacing," Theo Constantine said. "You make me tired just watching you."

  "Damn, Theo, I can't take much more of this." Matt swiped his hand across his mouth and chin. "Why the hell couldn't Khalid get us the information we needed about the identity of the Royalist leader who is a close confidant of the king when he got the info on Dedrick? And if he wasn't such a damn mystery man, you'd have some idea how to get in touch with him to ask him to hurry. Adele's life could depend on it."

  "Despite what many believe, Khalid is only human. And it takes time to gather information and to unearth evidence that is kept hidden. He will contact me as soon as he has a name."

  "Yeah, I know. But going through with this insane plan today wouldn't be necessary if we just had the guy's name and any kind of proof of what he's done."

  "All precautions are being taken to protect Adele," Theo said. "In a few minutes you will join the king and then take your place in the room adjoining Adele's while she is alone for her prayers."

  "I'd rather be in the room with her than in the alcove." Matt stuck his fingers inside his shirt and loosened his tie.

  Theo placed his hand on Matt's shoulder. "He will not make his move until Adele is alone."

  "If anything goes wrong. . .if she gets hurt. . ."

  Theo straightened Matt's tie. "The palace guards are stationed throughout the cathedral, and your Dundee agents are posing as wedding guests. All that can be done will be done."

  "How would you feel if Dia's life was on the line?"

  "I would feel as you do, my friend." Theo patted Matt on the back. "But my wife is not a princess. She does not have the type of responsibilities that Adele does. The fu­ture of an entire nation does not depend upon Dia's ac­tions."

  "Screw responsibility. Screw Orlantha. If I had my way, I'd go get Adele and hightail it out of this one-horse coun­try and take my wife back to the U.S.A. with me."

  "Spoken like a man in love," Theo said. "But Adele knows she cannot leave Orlantha. Her destiny is to rule this country, to keep the joint government in place and to lead her people into the twenty-first century."

  Matt shut his eyes for a moment as the rage inside him subsided, then he looked squarely at Theo. "I realize that I'm going to lose Adele to this damn country of hers. But I can accept that fact as long as she lives. If she were to. . .if anything goes wrong. . ."

  The church bells chimed, announcing the hour of prayer before the princess's wedding. Matt's body tensed.

  Theo glanced at his wristwatch. "It is time. As your best man, I will go now and tell the guards that you are not to be disturbed while you are praying."

  Matt grasped Theo's arm. "I may be a little too busy to pray. How about saying a few for me?"

  Theo nodded. "Gladly, my friend. Gladly."

  Adele preened in the mirror, pretending to be interested in the elaborately detailed wedding gown she wore. A fan­tasy gown, with an Alencon lace bodice overlaying a cor­set that laced up the back, a tip-of-the-shoulder neckline and three-quarter-length, sheer lace, poet sleeves and a vo­luminous skirt of silk over layers of tulle. The translucent veil fell from the small gold-and-diamond crown atop her head.

  Dia and Muriel hovered over her, spraying her with per­fume, adjusting the ten-foot train attached to her dress and placing around her neck the diamond necklace that her mother had worn on her wedding day thirty years ago. Adele felt like such a fraud. This wedding would never happen. It was nothing more than a trap to capture a trai­tor—a traitor whose existence posed a constant threat to her and to Orlantha. Neither her stepmother nor her best friend knew that her second wedding to Matt was a ruse, and that when they left her alone in a few minutes, she would become the bait used to ensnare a Royalist ring­leader.

  Cathedral bells chimed.

  "There are the bells." Muriel kissed Adele's cheek. "We will leave you now, my dearest girl, for your prayers."

  "I'll check on the bridesmaids," Dia said. "And I will give Phila last-minute instructions along with the other flower girls."

  "Is she upset that she has to share the honor this time?'' Adele asked.

  Dia smiled. "No, she's quite excited about this wedding being here at the cathedral, but she can't quite comprehend why you and Matt need to go through with a second cer­emony."

  "Duty," Adele said, with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

  Dia took Adele's hand. "Is there something wrong? I know you so well. I sense that you aren't as happy as you should be."

  "Nerves." Adele forced a smile. "Just nerves."

  "Come, Dia," Muriel said. "We must leave her to her prayers now."

  Dia hugged Adele and left with the queen. Adele took a deep breath and began her prayers in earnest. Please, dear Lord, keep me safe. I am so afraid. I do not know who will come to kill me. Whoever he is, I beg you to foil his evil plans. And watch over Matt. My beloved Matt. If it is necessary, he will sacrifice himself for me, as he knows I will sacrifice myself for Orlantha. I beg You, do not let any harm come to him. Keep him safe so he may return to America and to his life there.

  The door to the private chamber on the third floor of the cathedral opened. Adele held her breath as she turned to face her visitor. Standing there in the open doorway was Colonel Rickard, a small, gold-studded, wooden box in his hands. He clicked his heels and bowed.

  "Colonel, I am at prayers and am not to be disturbed," Adele said in her most haughty voice. Her heartbeat thun­dered in her ears. Was the colonel her assassin?

  "Please, forgive me, Your Highness," the colonel said. "I am here representing the palace guard. As is customary, I have brought the royal emblem worn by every crown prince or princess on their wedding day. The tradition goes back over four hundred years."

  Adele let out a sigh of relief. She had forgotte
n about the royal emblem, a large round broach with the Reynard coat of arms in the center and circled by emeralds, dia­monds and rubies. She stood straight and tall while Colo­nel Rickard attached the broach to the purple sash that crisscrossed the bodice of her wedding dress and was al­ready laden with medals and broaches.

  The colonel kissed Adele's hand, bowed, clicked his heels and exited the chamber. Adele clutched her hands together in an effort to keep them from trembling. She knelt before the small altar by the windows, but before she could form a coherent thought, the door opened again and Queen Muriel entered.

  Please, God, no, don't let the traitor be my stepmother.

  It would break my father's heart and he would die from disappointment.

  "I am so sorry to disturb you, but. . ."

  Muriel hurried forward as Adele rose to her feet. That's when she noticed the silk pouch in Muriel's hand.

  "I have something for you," the queen said.

  A rush of adrenaline, produced by cold fear, surged through Adele's body. "A gift?"

  "A very special present."

  Adele's breath caught in her throat. Muriel undid the silk pouch and removed a small wooden soldier. Adele stared at the child's toy. Hand carved. Hand painted. Two hundred years old. Adele burst into laughter. Her step­mother stared at her in puzzlement.

  "You are pleased?" the queen asked. "I was not sure that you would want me to be the one. . .since it is a mother's place. . .but since your mother is not—"

  Still laughing, giddy with relief, Adele grabbed Muriel and hugged her, then kissed her on both cheeks. "It is most appropriate for the queen to give the soldier to the princess on her wedding day."

  Muriel sighed. "Even your father had forgotten about this special tradition. He didn't even mention it to me. But every royal bride for the past two hundred years has been given King Alexandre's wooden soldier. As you know, it comes with a wish for the bride to produce a male heir." Muriel grasped Adele's hands. "I wish this for you with all my heart."

  After Muriel left, Adele went down on her knees before the altar again, but she couldn't concentrate on prayers. Were there any other traditions she had forgotten? Every­one knew she was supposed to be left alone, left to her prayers, but tradition overruled all else, even prayers.

  Adele prayed. And waited. What if he didn't show up? What if, for some reason, he knew a trap had been set?

  Just when she had begun to think no one else was going to disturb her privacy, the door opened again, then shut behind her third visitor.

  Matt waited behind the heavy purple curtains, in an al­cove with a secret door that opened to a hidden passage­way leading to the chamber assigned to the bridegroom. On the other side of the door, quiet and well hidden in the narrow passageway between the two chambers, the king, Chancellor Dutetre and five trusted palace guards waited. They would move only on his signal. Matt had been pre­pared to attack twice before-—when Colonel Rickard made his appearance and then when Queen Muriel paid Adele a visit. Now, a third visitor had arrived. Matt listened as the man spoke to Adele.

  "You look incredibly lovely, Your Highness," a famil­iar voice said.. "I beg you to forgive me for intruding on your time of prayer, but there is an urgent matter I must attend to immediately."

  "You are forgiven if you are here on state business," Adele said. "Please, tell me what is this urgent matter that could not wait until after my wedding?''

  Matt heard the nervousness in Adele's voice. He real­ized that this time she had no doubt about the motive of her visitor. But Matt also knew that he couldn't make his move too soon. The timing must be perfect. There would probably be only seconds between failure and success. And as far as he was concerned, failure wasn't an option.

  He drew his SIG Saur P229 from the shoulder holster he wore beneath his leather jacket. Since dressing for the wedding had been nothing but show, he had changed im­mediately after Theo had left him alone for the hour of prayer. Matt parted the curtains a fraction of an inch, just enough to gain him a clear view of Adele and her visitor.

  "It is most unfortunate that you would not marry the duke. Together you would have made a magnificent royal couple."

  "But Dedrick is not the man I love," Adele said, back­ing slowly away from the man holding a small handgun pointed directly at her. "And even if I had cared for him, I could not have married him. The duke is a Royalist, a traitor to my country."

  "So you tried to convince your father, but he would not believe you, would he? I am very sorry that I must do this, Your Highness. I have known you since you were a young girl and thought that your betrothal to Dedrick would join Balanchine and Orlantha without the necessity of warfare, without anyone having to die."

  "You're going to kill me, Lord Burhardt? Is that your plan, to eliminate me in the hopes that my father will still name Dedrick as his successor?"

  "There is no other way," Lord Burhardt said, aiming his pistol.

  "You won't get away with this," Adele told him. "The guards outside—"

  "It is unfortunate that I, too, must sacrifice myself for the noble cause."

  "If you're caught, and you will be, then it's only a mat­ter of time until Dedrick is found out."

  "No, we have taken every precaution to protect the duke. I am expendable. He is not. No one must ever sus­pect that he was involved in any way with your death, with the earlier attempt on your life or with the Royalists. Your father must see Dedrick as the only hope for Orlan­tha."

  Adele backed up against the huge arched window be­hind her. Lord Burhardt's trigger finger tightened on the pistol. Still hidden in the shadowy alcove, behind the pur­ple curtains, Matt lifted his gun and aimed. The sound of a gunshot echoed in the hushed stillness within the cham­ber on the third floor of the cathedral. Adele slammed her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. Lord Burhardt, his eyes frozen in surprise, dropped to the floor, the blood from a single bullet in the back of his head staining his white-blond hair.

  Matt stepped over Burhardt's body as he made his way to Adele. She rushed into his arms and buried her face against his chest. Dry, heaving sobs racked her body. Sur­rounded by guards, King Leopold and Chancellor Dutetre stormed into the chamber just as the guards outside burst into the room.

  "Are you all right?" the king asked Adele as he ca­ressed her head. When she didn't reply, he asked Matt, "Is she. . .was she harmed?"

  "She's unhurt," Matt said. "Just badly shaken."

  The king grunted, then turned to the chancellor. "Make that phone call immediately. I want Dedrick Vardan placed under arrest. The duke will be charged with treason. And inform the police about what happened here."

  "Yes, Your Majesty." The chancellor, flanked by two guards, exited the room.

  "Bring Adele with you," the king told Matt, then issued an order to the guards. "Let no one enter this chamber until the police arrive." The king glanced at Lord Bur­hardt's body. "I trusted this man as my chief advisor and my friend." A lone tear trickled down the king's cheek.

  Alone together in the chamber where he had prepared himself for his wedding to the princess, Matt and Adele spoke privately, while King Leopold waited just outside the door, pacing madly back and forth as Queen Muriel stood by helplessly.

  "All's well that ends well," Matt said flippantly.

  "I owe you so much." Adele gazed into Matt's eyes. "The country of Orlantha owes you a great deal."

  "Hey, I got to be prince for a day, didn't I? And I'm now Sir Matthew. Pretty heady stuff for a poor boy from Kentucky."

  The cathedral bells chimed. Matt stiffened. Adele sighed.

  "The bells chime the hour of our wedding," she told him. "The service will begin at any moment."

  "Then I guess you and your father should get down there and try to explain to your guests that the wedding has been called off due to the fact that the bridegroom's on his way to the airport to catch a flight back to Amer­ica."

  "You don't have to go."

  "Sure I do. Nothing for me here. A
nd I'm sure if the king will put in a good word for me, my boss will rehire me."

  "Orlantha could use a man like you," Adele said. "I need a man like you."

  "Nah, you don't need me. You've got a palace full of bodyguards."

  "But if you leave, I won't have a husband."

  "Look, just send the annulment papers to the Dundee Agency, and I'll sign whatever needs to be signed. Once that's done, you can start husband hunting. My guess is that this go-round your father will let you do the picking."

  I choose you, Matt O 'Brien, she wanted to shout at the top of her lungs. But what good would it do? Matt didn't want to stay in Orlantha. He didn't want to become her prince consort. All he wanted was to go home to America as quickly as he could.

  "I'd ask you to come to Atlanta for a visit sometime." Matt shuffled his feet. "But I know you'll be pretty busy once your father turns things over to you. I guess it's best if we say goodbye now." He searched her face as if look­ing for the answer to some unasked question. "Yeah, a clean break is best." He lifted his hand and reached out, as if he were going to touch her, then dropped his hand to his side.

  Adele straightened her shoulders and tilted her head in a regal pose. "Yes, a clean break is best." She held out her hand to him. "Thank you, Matt. If ever you. . . Orlantha shall always be in your debt."

  Without accepting her hand, almost as if he were afraid to touch her, Matt headed for the door, then paused, glanced over his shoulder and said, "Good luck, Prin­cess."

  She nodded but didn't try to speak. Emotion clogged her throat, rendering her temporarily mute. Matt opened the door, walked out and disappeared down the hallway. Adele stood very still. She could hear her heartbeat. Could hear her soft breathing. Could hear her heart breaking.

  King Leopold rushed into the chamber. "Where's Mat­thew going? He waved at me and said goodbye and told me to take good care of you."

  "He's going back to America."

  "What do you mean he's going—"

  "We're having our marriage annulled," Adele said.