Cordina's Royal Family Collection

by Nora Roberts

  Glancing back, Bennett held out a hand. “Hannah, come meet the incomparable Chantel.”

  The stiffness in her movement only suited her character, Hannah told herself as she started down. All unremarkable women tensed up when slapped in the face with great beauty. She stopped on the step beside Bennett, but kept nearly a foot of space between them.

  “Lady Hannah Rothchild, Chantel O’Hurley.”

  “How do you do?” Formal and proper, Hannah held out a hand. Chantel kept her face passive as she accepted it.

  “I do fine, thank you.” As a woman, as an actress who understood angles and role-playing, she wondered why someone with such good bone structure and a flawless complexion would deliberately make themselves appear plain.

  “Lady Hannah is keeping Eve company for a few months.”

  “How nice. Cordina’s a beautiful country. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Yes, I already am. I also enjoyed watching you rehearse.”

  “Thanks, but we have a way to go.” Chantel tapped a finger on the banister and wondered why she felt such instant distrust. Dismissing it as overwork, she turned back to Bennett. “I have to run. Try to make some time for me, darling.”

  “Of course. You’re coming to dinner Saturday with the rest of the cast?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll see you there, Lady Hannah.”

  “Goodbye, Miss O’Hurley.”

  After giving Bennett a quick pat on the cheek, Chantel descended the stairs again and let the director trail behind her.

  “She’s quite a woman,” Bennett murmured.

  “Yes, she’s very beautiful.”

  “There’s that, too.” Without looking at her, Bennett took Hannah’s arm again. “I suppose I’ve always admired her willpower and ambition. She’s determined to be the best and isn’t afraid to work for it. Every time I see her on the screen, it’s breathtaking.”

  Hannah dug her fingers into her purse and reminded herself she was supposed to be unassuming. “You admire ambition, Your Highness?”

  “Nothing’s changed for better or worse without it.”

  “Some men still find ambition in a woman unflattering, or at least, uncomfortable.”

  “Some men are idiots.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Hannah said dryly, dryly enough that he lifted his brow as he gazed at her.

  “Why am I never quite sure whether or not you’re insulting me, Hannah?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, I was simply agreeing with you.”

  He stopped again. From the stage came the murmur of voices, but the hall was deserted. Bennett took her chin in his hand, ignoring her jolt of shock, and studied her face. “Hannah, why is it when I look at you I’m not convinced I’m seeing all there is?”

  Alarm bells went off in her head. Her face paled a bit. She knew it, but thought, hoped, he would take that as natural. Not by another blink did she show concern. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I wonder.” He moved his thumb over her jawline, then just beneath where the skin was softer yet, and warm. “Yes, I wonder more than I should about you, Hannah. Do you have an answer for that?”

  There were amber flecks in his eyes, turning what might have been plain brown into something tawny and compelling. He had the mouth of a poet and the hands of a farmer. Hannah wondered how it was possible to combine the two as her heart, always so steady, began to drum against her ribs.

  “Your Highness—” It was both the lady without and the lady within who fumbled.

  “Do you, Hannah?”

  He saw her lips part. Strange, he hadn’t noticed how attractive her mouth was before—soft, just a bit wide and beautifully shaped without cosmetics. He wondered if it would taste as cool as her voice or as rich as her eyes.

  She had to stop this, here and now. The yearning building inside her could only be destructive. Even as she longed to reach out, she cast her eyes down. “No, sir, except that many times men are intrigued with a woman simply because she’s not what they’re accustomed to.”

  “We’ll see.” He backed off, though the effort it cost him was a surprise. “I’ll take you back now, Hannah, and we’ll both give it some thought.”

  Chapter 3

  Hannah was given free run of the palace and the grounds. She had only to ask and her bath would be drawn or her bed turned down. If she developed a craving for hot chocolate at 3:00 a.m., she could pick up the phone beside her bed and request it. As a guest of the Royal Family, she was afforded every amenity the palace could offer.

  And as a guest of the Royal Family, she was afforded her own guards.

  Hannah considered them only a slight nuisance. It was a simple enough matter for someone of her talents to make them think she was tucked safely away in her rooms while she was somewhere else entirely. However, the fact that she was being watched made it difficult to set up a meeting with her contact on the outside.

  Using the palace phones was out of the question. Too many extensions made it a risk that even a casual, coded conversation could be overheard. She’d briefly considered smuggling in a transmitter, then had rejected the notion. Transmissions could be traced. She hadn’t spent two years of her life to get to this point to see it all wiped away because of some electronic foul-up. In any case, she preferred meetings of such importance to be face-to-face.

  Two days after she arrived in Cordina, she mailed a letter. It was addressed to an old family friend in Sussex who didn’t exist. Its destination was one of Deboque’s many branches throughout Europe. If for any reason the letter was intercepted and opened, the reader would find nothing more interesting than a chatty note describing Cordina and the weather.

  Once the letter reached its destination and was decoded, it would read differently. Hannah had given her name, her rank in the organization and had requested a meeting, detailing the time, date and place. The information would be fed back to the Cordina contact. All she had to do was get there, alone.

  One week, Hannah thought once the letter was on its way. In one week she would well and truly begin what had been started so long ago. She had plenty to do to keep her busy in the meantime.

  Princess Gabriella and her family were visiting the palace that evening. The staff had been in an uproar for the better part of the day, more, Hannah guessed, because the children were descending than for any other reason. Hannah had heard that the priceless collection of Fabergé eggs was to be put out of reach.

  She spent the day quietly enough, visiting Eve and Marissa in the nursery, lunching with several members of the Historical Society, and in the lull of late afternoon, exploring the cellars for vulnerabilities.

  Now, she clipped on her pearls and prepared to join the family in the main drawing room. It would be interesting to see them all together, she thought. In that way she could judge the interactions as well as the individuals. Before too much time had passed, she had to know them all as well as she knew herself. One mistake, one bad judgment call, and all could be lost.

  “Come back here, you little demon!”

  Hannah heard a loud laugh, a thud, then rushing feet. Before she had a chance to open the door to see for herself, it burst open. Barreling through it was a small boy with a thatch of dark hair that may or may not have been combed in the last week. He gave her an amazing grin, showing more than one gap before he scooted under her bed.

  “Cachez-moi, s’il vous plaît!” His voice was muffled by the skirt of the spread before he disappeared.

  Hannah opened her mouth again only to see Bennett filling the doorway.

  “Did you see a small, miserably mannered boy?”

  “I, ah—no,” she decided on the spot and folded her hands. “I did think I heard someone go running past. What are you—”

  “Thanks. If you see him, lock him in a closet or something.” He started off down the hall. “Dorian, you nasty little thief, you can’t hide forever.”

  Hannah walked to the door and looked out to see Bennett turning the corner be
fore she closed it. Moving back to the bed, she crouched down and lifted the skirt. “I think it’s safe now,” Hannah told him in French.

  The dark hair poked out first, then a sturdy little body dressed in short pants and a white linen shirt that were streaked with dirt. If Hannah hadn’t already seen his picture, she would have taken him for one of the servants’ offspring. But he was royal.

  “You are English. I speak excellent English.”

  “So you do.”

  “Thank you for hiding me from my uncle.” Young Prince Dorian bowed. Though he wasn’t yet five, he executed it perfectly. “He was angry, but he doesn’t stay that way long. I’m Prince Dorian.”

  “Your Highness.” Hannah curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lady Hannah Rothchild.” Then unable to resist, she bent down to his level. “What did you steal?”

  Dorian glanced at the closed door, back at Hannah, then grinned. Digging into his back pocket he pulled out a yo-yo. It might once have been blue, but now it was the gray of old wood with a few chips of brighter paint still holding. Hannah studied it with appropriate respect.

  “This is Bennett’s—His Highness’s?” Hannah corrected.

  “Merveilleux, n’est-ce pas? He’s had it since he was five.” Dorian turned the toy over in his hand, marveling that it had once been new and shiny when his uncle had been just the age he was now. “He gets angry when I go into his room and play with it, but how else am I going to be able to make it work?”

  “Good point.” Hannah barely resisted the urge to ruffle the royal head of hair. “And one would doubt he plays with it himself very often.”

  “He keeps it on a shelf. It isn’t that he really minds me looking at it,” Dorian explained, loyal to the core. “It’s just that when I try to make it work, the string gets all tangled and knotted up.”

  “It takes a little practice.”

  “I know.” He grinned again. “And I can only practice if I steal it.”

  “Your logic is flawless, Your Highness. May I see?”

  Dorian hesitated only a moment, then graciously handed it over. “Girls usually aren’t interested in such things.” He made a grimace of masculine disgust. “My sisters play with dolls.”

  “Everyone has different tastes, I suppose.” Hannah slid her finger into the loop, wondering how long it had been since Bennett’s had fit there. The string wasn’t as old as the toy itself. By her guess, it would have been replaced more than a dozen times over the years. On impulse, she let the yo-yo slide down, dangle, then brought it neatly up.

  “Oh, nicely done.” Charmed, Dorian watched her with wide eyes.

  “Thank you, sir. I used to have one of my own. It was red,” she remembered with a half smile. “Until my dog chewed it up.”

  “Can you do any tricks? I tried Round the World once and broke a lamp. Uncle Bennett scolded me, but then he tossed out the pieces himself so no one would know.”

  Because she could picture it so well, Hannah smiled. A loud roar, but little bite, she decided and wished she didn’t like him the better for it. “A trick?” As she considered she took the yo-yo up and down. Then, with a quick flick of her wrist took it Round the World. When it snapped back in her palm, Dorian laughed and climbed on her bed.

  “Do another, please.”

  Calling on memory, Hannah Walked the Dog and had the young prince bouncing on the bed and calling out for more.

  “Well done, Lady Hannah,” Bennett said from the doorway. “Obviously you have hidden talents.”

  Hannah had to bite off an oath as she brought the yo-yo back. “Your Highness.” Toy in hand, she curtsied. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

  “I didn’t.” Bennett pushed away from the doorjamb he was leaning on to walk to the bed. Unrepentant, his nephew grinned up at him.

  “Isn’t she wonderful, Uncle Bennett?”

  “We’ll discuss the Lady Hannah’s attributes later.” He gave Dorian’s ear a twist before turning around. “My property, if you will.”

  Fighting to keep a straight face, Hannah handed it to him.

  “This might seem to be nothing more than a simple child’s toy,” Bennett began as he slipped it into his pocket. “But in fact, it’s an heirloom.”

  “I see.” She cleared her throat on the laugh, but it escaped anyway. Hoping she looked contrite, she stared at the floor. “I beg your pardon, sir.”

  “The hell you do. And he was in here all along wasn’t he?” Bennett pushed his nephew flat on the bed and sent him into a fit of giggles. “You let me go running off all over the palace looking for this petty thief when all the time he was hiding behind your skirts.”

  “The bed skirts to be honest, sir.” She had to clear her throat again, but managed to speak calmly. “When you rushed by with so vague a description, I had no idea you were looking for Prince Dorian.”

  “I admire a good liar,” Bennett murmured as he moved closer. For the second time he caught her chin in his hand. But for the first time, she saw all of the arrogance he was capable of and felt all of its attraction. “And I grow only more intrigued.”

  “Lady Hannah can do a double Round the World.”

  “Fascinating.” Bennett slid his hand away slowly as he turned back to his nephew. If he’d listened for it, he might have heard Hannah’s slow sigh of relief. “I thought we had an agreement, Dorian.”

  Dorian’s head drooped, but Hannah didn’t notice that the light in his eyes dimmed in the least. “I only wanted to see it. I’m sorry, Uncle Bennett.”

  “Sure you are.” Bennett hauled him up by the armpits, scowled, then kissed him soundly. “Your mother’s downstairs. Don’t slide in the halls on the way to the drawing room.”

  “All right.” On his feet again, Dorian bowed to Hannah. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Hannah.”

  “And you, sir.”

  He sent her a gap-toothed grin before he dashed off.

  “Sweet talker,” Bennett muttered. “Oh, you might think he’s all charm, but he has a black heart.”

  “Strangely enough I was reminded of you.”

  With one brow lifted, Bennett rocked back on his heels. “Indeed, my lady, that is strange.”

  “He’s a scoundrel, without question. And you love him.”

  “That’s beside the point.” Bennett stuck his hand in his pocket. “As to the matter of the yo-yo.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Try to wait until I’m five feet away before you laugh in my face.”

  “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  “It was a gift from my mother when I was ill one summer. I’ve bought the little devil a dozen of them, but he keeps stealing mine. He knows if I don’t get a son of my own by the time he’s ten I’ll make him a gift of it.”

  “I have a redheaded doll my mother gave me when I broke my wrist in a fall. I kept it when I outgrew all the others.”

  It wasn’t until he’d taken her hand that she realized she’d told him something he didn’t need to know, something she’d never told anyone else. Even as she warned herself such lapses were dangerous, his lips brushed her fingers.

  “You, Lady Hannah, have a kind heart as well as a clever tongue. Come, walk downstairs with me and meet the rest of my family.”

  * * *

  Reeve MacGee would be a formidable obstacle. Hannah had thought so before, but seeing him with his family, she was sure of it. She knew his background from the time he’d entered the police force as a rookie through his less publicized work for the United States government.

  His involvement with Cordina and the Royal Family had the ring of romance, but Reeve was no poet. He’d come out of a self-imposed retirement at Prince Armand’s request when Gabriella had been kidnapped. Though she’d escaped, her time in captivity had left its mark. Amnesia had plagued her and Reeve had been enlisted to protect her, and to investigate.

  There had been no doubt that Deboque had been pushing the buttons, but though his lover had been captured and imprisoned, she’d ne
ver implicated him. Like other powerful men, Deboque inspired loyalty. Or fear.

  During the time that Gabriella was struggling to regain her memory, she and Reeve had fallen in love. Although Reeve had refused to accept a title when they married, he’d agreed to head security in Cordina. Even with Reeve’s experience and skill, the palace had been infiltrated once again.

  Two years ago, Alexander had nearly been assassinated. Since that time, Reeve had managed to block any and all attempts on members of the Royal Family. But Deboque was about to walk out of prison. With freedom would come more power.

  Hannah watched Reeve now, seeing a quiet, introspective man who plainly adored his wife and children. He would use everything available to protect them from harm. So much the better.

  With her hands folded and her skirts smoothed, Hannah sat and listened.

  “We all know your play’s going to be a wonderful success.” Gabriella, with her hand caught loosely in Reeve’s, smiled at Eve. Her rich red hair was styled with casual chic around a face that remained delicate and lovely. “That doesn’t mean we don’t understand you have to worry about it.”

  “I’m at the point now where I wish it was over.” Eve drew Marissa into her lap.

  “But you’re feeling well?”

  “I’m feeling fine.” Eve let Marissa climb down again. “Between Alex’s pampering and Hannah’s eagle eye, I can hardly lift a finger without a doctor’s certificate.”

  “It’s so good of you to come.” Gabriella smiled at Hannah before she sipped some sparkling water. “I know firsthand how comforting it is to have a friend nearby. Are we keeping you happy enough so that you’re not homesick?”

  “I’m very happy in Cordina.” Hannah kept her back straight against the sofa.

  “I hope you’ll come out to the farm while you’re here.”