Guessing they would be able to do whatever they wished—money could buy many things—but the last thing she had imagined they would do was fabricate a royal pedigree for her so they could save face.
Siobhan shook her head as she opened the clasp and pulled out the papers. As her eyes scanned the pages, her inward chuckle turned into alarm. By the time she had reached a photo of the King of Aragon, her hands were trembling. She raised her face, all composure lost, and stammered, “W-where did you get this?”
“A reputable source,” Aileen replied. “It’s all true, I assure you.”
Siobhan looked back at the photo of the men and women who were supposedly her father and brother and sisters, her head swimming as she scanned their faces for similarities. From her father, she had inherited the thick raven hair, long black eyelashes, straight nose, and full mouth.
There was no denying she truly was long lost royalty to a kingdom named Aragon.
I have a brother! And sisters!
The newspaper clippings were there, stating how he was looking for one sister and how she was part of a long and proud dynasty, almost as old as the Braxton-Lenox.
She wasn’t just a cat-loving waitress. She was a royal herself.
“As you can see, he’s desperate to find you,” Catriona replied, as she brought her cup up to her lips. “And if I were you, I would be dying to meet him as well.”
“And find out how much I was worth,” Aileen added, looking pleased with herself.
Siobhan paid them no attention, her heart hammering against her chest. She had a family, a true family that was looking for her. She had a brother, a country waiting on her return.
More so than that, she was now considered an equal to, well, everyone in this place.
Even Angus.
Hope welled up in her chest as she thought about sharing the news with him. Will he be excited that he’s no longer marrying just a waitress?
“What are you going to do?” Catriona prodded, clearly miffed by Siobhan’s silence.
“We can arrange transportation to Aragon for you,” Aileen said, in a sugary sweet tone. “It’s the least we can do.”
Siobhan tucked the papers back into the envelope and stood, clasping it to her chest. “The least you can do…yes. I will let you know when I’ll be going”
But she wasn’t going to make any hasty decisions nor was she going to run off to a country she knew nothing about without thinking this through.
And talking with Angus.
As much as she was interested in meeting this family of hers, Angus and their child were still her top priority.
As soon as she was out of Catriona’s wing, Siobhan speed-dialed Angus, but the call went to the voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message. Although she knew he was probably busy and they would talk that night, this news of her royalty was too important to hold on to.
Siobhan went to Ewan’s office and asked him where Angus might be and eventually discovered he had gone to the royal stables, a place she hadn’t yet been to.
“I can take you there, if you wish,” Ewan suggested, already rising from his chair.
“No, you are busy,” she said. “Just show me where it is.”
By the window, he pointed to a building at the end of the property and insisted, “A footman can take you there.”
“Ewan, it’s not as if I am going to lose myself,” she said with a chuckle. And a solitary walk will help me put my mind in order.
Angus was talking with Javert and Mircea, clearly engrossed in the topic of breeding and growing the Romanis’ cattle.
Facts and statistics bounced back and forth; an award-winning five-year-old bull was the topic most discussed.
Angus liked the straightness of the bull’s legs, while Javert believed his height and length would be an outstanding cross with their heifers. Both young men were attractive with somewhat of a resemblance. But something about Angus was different, and not just his long gleaming long chestnut hair.
It’s his golden eyes. But then she noticed Javert’s eyes were also golden. An unusual trait to be shared.
Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes. Lord, she was tired lately, wanting to spend more time in bed than standing upright. She didn’t want to say anything to Angus about it for he would have her in bed until this baby was born, something she could not do.
Turning her attention away from Angus and Javert, she wandered aimlessly, her back hurting her. She would have to get more comfortable shoes the bigger her stomach got. What would Angus tell everyone once she started to show, which wouldn’t be too long now? Would he start demanding her to marry him again?
She wasn’t dragging her feet. Okay, she was. The wedding was so, well, final, and as much as she loved Angus and this child of theirs, her feet were still dragging.
Love.
And now with the news of her being the lost royal of Aragon…it was hard to digest even after she had read through the paperwork.
Siobhan sighed and looked up and did not see Angus where he had just been a moment ago. Great. Now she would have to double back.
Spying an open gate, Siobhan crossed into the pen, seeing the barn on the other side. She could cut through and make the same number of steps.
As she stepped into the gated area and started across the corral, she heard a click and turned, seeing that the gate had swung closed. There was not a lick of wind to be felt in the air, but she could see no one in the vicinity of the gate either.
And then another sound caught her ears, one that had the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Coming out of a side gate near the barn was a bull, huffing and puffing from its nose.
The sight of the manic, steaming bull glaring at her, was not surreal but other-worldly. She didn’t know how tall bulls generally were but this one seemed ten feet tall and large, extremely large.
What should I do? She tried to remember if she’d ever been taught how to react when faced with a charging bull, but all she could recall was one should play dead when confronting a bear in the woods. Nothing about bulls came to mind. She knew she should probably make no sudden movements but the itch to run was there.
The animal was moving, stamping and digging the ground with its front leg. She was pretty sure that meant it was getting ready to charge.
Best to try and be proactive…walk…don’t run…and be ready to run if it charges! She began edging toward the fence in the opposite direction but the bull started to move forward, as if he were sizing her up for his next opponent. This could not be happening. She had to get out. Not only was she in danger, but the baby was as well.
The bull snorted again.
Her brain function ceased and her legs took control.
“He was right here,” Javert said, puzzled the award-winning seventeen-hundred-pound bull was not in his enclosed pen. “We just saw him.”
Angus looked over at the open gate that led to the corral, his blood freezing in his veins as he recognized the form in the corral. With the bull.
“That bloody fool,” Angus cursed, starting toward the corral. “What the hell is she doing?”
“What?” Javert asked in a startled voice.
“How did she get in there?” Mircea asked, fear in his voice.
They all knew what would happen if that bull charged Siobhan, and suddenly Angus could not think straight. He had to get her out of danger.
Ignoring both Javert, and Mircea, Angus charged down the hill toward the corral, fury and fear bubbling with each stomp, as he watched Siobhan turn and run, prompting the bull to do the same. “Stubborn, impossible fool!”
She was going to be trampled if he didn’t get there in time.
Terrified, Siobhan passed through two gates and started to sprint across the lawn, towards the barn, but she would have to drop to the ground and crawl under the fence before the bull caught up to her. She’d never make it. The gates weren’t latched and wouldn’t slow the bull down.
She turned back and pulled the firs
t gate shut, yanking at it with all her might, and did the same with the second one, and was back running toward the fence.
But coming at full speed with horns out to attack, hurling its mass toward the first gate, the bull completely destroyed it, and stopped, shaking its head and pawing at the ground again, only one barrier remaining between it and its prey.
Siobhan looked over her shoulder, disbelief at her situation crippling her. The monster was close enough for her to see the long tendrils of saliva hanging from his purple lips.
She was going to die in this corral—her, and the child within her. She wasn’t going to see the perfect baby she and Angus had created. She would never feel Angus’s arms around her again, the cocky grin he gave her when it was just the two of them.
She heard the bull start to charge again in pursuit. In an impossibly short amount of time, it crashed through the gate, yet hoping against hope, she kept running, blinded by tears, towards the fence, waiting for the blow, waiting for it to ram her.
Her life was about to be over and she hadn’t told Angus she loved him. Stupid pride!
Right behind her, the bull snorted and heaved.
Siobhan felt every pound of the hooves on the ground, like a death drum of what was going to happen next.
Her nervous system shut down and, with a cry, she curled over herself, legs and arms trying to protect her belly from the horns.
That was when the first shot rang out.
31
Angus had tried to remain calm. He didn’t care about his prized bull. Siobhan was all that mattered.
He grabbed the patrol rifle carried by one of the guards and took aim.
If I miss, she’s dead.
The press of the trigger was smooth; the report was like a cannon boom in his ears, louder, for some reason, then all the times he’d shot while hunting. Nearly two seconds later, the bullet pierced the bull’s neck.
It swerved, but didn’t stop.
Angus sprinted, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he raced to get to Siobhan.
She had reached the fence and dropped to the ground, but she wasn’t crawling under to the other side. She’d just froze there.
The bull shook its head and started to charge again.
Angus ran toward her, pulling out his coat and waving. “Toro! Toro!”
The bull caught his movement and veered slightly to charge at him. Angus dropped the coat and again took aim. He needed to hold his nerves and shoot with enhanced precision.
Even though his aim was spot-on, the momentum of the bull’s charge kept it going, despite what should have been mortal wounds. Angus did not quit firing, slowing the massive animal down with each bullet. He knew if he stopped, there was a chance the bull could recover enough to do damage and he could not allow harm to come to either of them.
It dropped to its knees, regained its footing, stumbled closer, then dropped in front of Siobhan, its horns mere inches away from her curled form.
The scare was all tangled up inside Siobhan like an ugly monster. If she ever did let it out, surely it would suffocate her.
But when Angus pulled her into his arms and whispered, “I had a feeling of sheer panic when I saw the bull turn around and run toward you,” she let out a low wail of pain.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, worried.
She shook her head because she couldn’t form the words. Other voices were floating past her ears but Siobhan focused on Angus’s warmth, the low murmuring of his voice against her ear as she attempted to regain her composure. Angus had saved her life.
She didn’t want him to ever let her go.
Because right now, she felt very vulnerable and dependent.
“I-I’m lu-lucky you were there,” she managed to stammer through the tears and sobs.
Something twisted in the region of his heart and he shook his head at her helplessly. “Lucky? If I hadn’t seen you, you probably would not have been around to tell the tale.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
He ran a hand through his hair roughly, a wild look in his eyes. “It’s breeding season! Bulls are more aggressive when rutting! What were you thinking?”
A tear spilled out of her eye and he forced himself to calm down.
This was not solving anything, yelling at her like this, even though she had just taken ten years off his life. Carefully, because his legs were trembling, he rose with her in his arms.
She was mumbling apologies but he ignored them, holding her close against his own trembling body. He had never been so scared in his entire life, a myriad of thoughts running through his mind of what might’ve happened, and what he stood to lose.
“Shh,” he finally said, waving off Mircea and Javert in the process. “Let’s get you home.”
He was so strong, the heavy muscles of his chest and arms capable of crushing her. Yet he was gentle, careful, carrying her to their bedroom, to their bed, as he shouted for Dr. Singh to be called.
His hands were doing the most wonderful things to her back. Up and down they traveled slowly, working a miracle on her frayed nerves.
He was warm. He was safe.
She and their baby were safe.
Her breathing slowed as a kind of trance came over her, a drowsing-awake feeling.
She gave herself over to sleep.
Siobhan was sleeping peacefully, but Angus was wide awake. She had crashed from her adrenaline rush, while he was still riding his. He quietly slipped out of the room to get a drink and ran into Ewan heading his way.
“Your Majesty, there’s something I need to show you.”
“What is it now?” Angus asked irritated, too worried about Siobhan to focus on the kingdom’s problems. He continued his way to his rooms, where he served himself a good dram of whisky and downed it in one gulp.
“I believe the bull-pen gate latch was deliberately opened by someone. In fact, there’s no other explanation, and the stable master agrees. He swears he latched it himself.”
“What?” Angus paused mid-way to his bathroom, where he intended to take a long, warm shower, and frowned. “Then what is it you wish to show me?”
“Footprints, if you wish to see, Sir. They’re rather small.”
Both men made their way to the stables, without saying anything more. Ewan was clearly upset as though he had failed in his management of the palace security somehow, which was silly, since it was not under his direct responsibility. Angus wondered why someone would let loose a bull. And did they do it only after Siobhan had shown up at the stables?
The truth was undeniable. Someone had tampered with the gate latch, and opened it when Siobhan was near. The stable master confirmed he’d seen Siobhan walking around slowly, heading in the general direction of the bull-pen while he was securing the bull. He left, and a few moments later, he heard pandemonium break loose. He hadn’t seen anyone else in the stables who didn’t belong there, and certainly no one who could’ve left such small footprints leading up to the gate latch.
“Dammit,” Angus said, clenching his jaw.
“There’s more, Sir,” said Ewan, and motioned with his hand, “Over here, if you will.”
Angus followed Ewan and the flashlight beam he aimed at the ground, pointing out a trail of small footprints that led to a spot between to stacks of hay bales.
“They were hiding here?”
“It appears so, Sir. Someone may have been watching her with other bad intentions when they saw her heading toward the bull-pen, and perhaps tried to arrange for a deadly accident.”
“Are you saying someone’s trying to kill Siobhan, specifically?” If Angus’s adrenaline was high before, now it went through the roof.
“Isn’t it obvious? The raging bull was safely locked in the pen and someone—a woman—released it on the lass. What would you call that?”
Angus looked up at the older man, his eyes narrowing. Nobody else could get away with such impertinence. Nobody else would even try. But Ewan had been in charge of palace administration for more th
an forty years, and when young Angus came on holidays, avid for everything his homeland could provide, it had been Ewan who had hidden his escapes from his draconian mother.
But that didn’t mean he had to like what his aide-de-camp said.
“I think you’re right, Ewan. But there’s insufficient evidence to bring in the police.”
“I dare say, there’s no pleasure in being right if the girl ends up dead. She has to be protected. Police, or no police.”
“Starting right now, I want guards on her around the clock. I want somebody outside her room where she’s sleeping, at once.”
Ewan quickly drew his phone and gave orders to the head of security, authorizing him to hire more men, if necessary, but not without them passing royal protection detail background checks. When Ewan ended the call, he rushed to catch up with Angus, who was already heading back to the palace.
“Your Majesty, there’s one more thing.”
Angus stopped and turned around. “I hope it’s good news.”
“That would depend on your perspective, Sir. It seems that the Dowager Princess has come into some information I don’t believe she’s shared with you. Correct me if I’m mistaken.” He reached into an inner breast pocket and removed several papers that were folded length-wise and handed them to Angus.
Angus stretched out his hand and asked, “Hand me your torch.”
Ewan turned on the small flashlight on his phone, illuminating the documents, and watched as Angus read for a moment.
Angus raised his eyes from the paper and nodded at his aide-de-camp. “Thank you, Ewan.”
“I wish I could say it was a pleasure…” Ewan grimaced at Angus and they resumed their way back to the palace. “Should I continue to keep an eye on the Dowager Princess, Sir?”
“Even if that means you’ll need to place a camera over Catriona’s bed.” Angus mused for a moment as he climbed the stairs to their rooms. Before he opened the door, he turned to Ewan. “In fact, Ewan, I want the best agents from our intelligence stationed in every possible place that might contain a danger to Siobhan. And I mean that. Here, the Romani village, and why not, in Aragon,” he said in a low voice loaded with anger and worry. “She is the highest priority at the moment in Lektenstaten. If any of them think she is in danger, they should be instructed to shoot first, ask questions later. I will deal with any casualties.”
Royal Love Page 28
