by Lynda Hurst
Casting a heaving sigh in exasperation to the ceiling, Valerian exhaled, “How you manage to work miracles such as today is beyond my knowledge of the natural world. The more I am around you, the more I am convinced that you are some kind of witch.”
In the corner, Simon and Brielle made strangling noises that were the result of trying to smother their snickers behind their hands. A withering look from Valerian sobered them up quickly, and at a sharp nod of his head to the side, they hastened to leave the room.
“A witch, am I?” Mary asked when they were quite alone. “I think you ought to worship me on your knees for this so-called miracle.”
Taken aback by the unintended double entendre in her innocent words, he chose to ignore his knee-jerk reaction to respond with a more sensual comment. Instead, he gathered her close into an embrace that bespoke of his gratitude for her part in this. Against her hair, he whispered, “You are a miracle worker, Mary. Thank you for helping to keep Mont-Tremblant safe.”
Squeezing him equally as hard as he was doing to her, she replied, “You’re welcome. Maybe you can show me your thanks by telling me what had come over you when we met in front of the hotel.”
Sheepish once more at his loss of control over his baser emotions, he only said, “I can think of other pleasurable ways to show my thanks.” But before she could ask, he decided to show her instead by kissing her senseless.
17
Although his original plan had fallen apart, a better one had seemed to fall miraculously in its place! Hope blossomed once more in the Doctor’s breast as it had been demoralizingly quashed when he had lost the Ark. Having observed the comte’s rooms closely and the two guards who had not left their stations by his door, he instinctively knew that the comte must have had the Ark stashed somewhere within. Thus, the hope that sprung fast within him. But even better than hope was the certainty that everything he had worked toward would soon reap the desired result.
He was fortunate to have found a large number of men and women who were loyal to the Laurents; most were either distant relatives or descendants of loyal retainers. But none had as direct a line to the last ruling Laurent than he as his own great-grandfather was the son of the last Laurent king. Although not the crown prince, his ancestor was the younger son who had been exiled once Jullien the Ursuper had ascended the Mont-Tremblant throne.
The throne was his by right of birth, and he had proof in the form of the Laurent royal family signet ring which had been passed down through several generations to rest finally with him. Its appearance was enough to satisfy his supporters of his antecedents, and since then, he proved himself to them by his well-laid plans for the ascendance of a Laurent once again on the throne. Despite Bastien’s reign of peace, his followers were more inclined to see the Laurent name be celebrated once more, bringing them back from the shadows of infamy and into a world where they could hold their heads up high.
With the new turn of events, he had every reason to believe that the girl was the key to acquiring his true desires. Lady Mary Ellesmere, fiancée to the Comte Loire of Mont-Tremblant, was going to help him achieve his dream of becoming king. Then there would be no more hiding who he was once he had the girl within his grasp, and through her, the Ark would once more be his to claim the throne.
With his plans converging all at once, it was inevitable that his mounting excitement would hamper his ability to sleep. When the Ark had been successfully retrieved from under Bastien’s nose, his nights had consisted of lying awake as he imagined his future grandeur as the new king. The momentary loss of the Ark produced one awful night of pondering the what-ifs and should-haves that could have prevented such a loss in the first place. Thus, the sum of such nights came to a brutal head, endangering his ability to think clearly when sleep was a necessity for the days ahead.
The circumstances which allowed him to come upon Lady Mary seemed as though fate itself had played a hand in it. It was incredibly lucky he thought to reconnoiter the same hotel he had tracked the unaware couple and was rewarded for his efforts when Lady Mary made an appearance. Although she was accompanied by an escort, he only had to follow them at a distance to ascertain their direction.
Observing all since the apothecary, he knew exactly how he could use Lady Mary to the advantage of attaining his lifelong dream. He began drafting a letter in his head to his supporters in Mont-Tremblant, one that gave orders to be ready for his signal. He would also need a small band of strong ruffians to carry out the next part of his plan. He knew they were closer to hand here in the streets of Paris as such riffraff were easily bought by the promise of coin.
All that was required was for him to remain patient for just a little bit longer.
18
One Week Later since Paris, on the Road to Mont-Tremblant
With the Ark securely locked in a chest and the key kept around his neck, Valerian sighed in relief at the thought of coming home having accomplished everything he had left home to do. Well, almost everything. Sitting back against the cushioned seat of the carriage that he shared with his bride, he chuckled to himself at the reminder of his original plan to rid himself of one. Only to find himself ear-splittingly happy that he was bringing her home to marry her posthaste. He hadn’t had much opportunity to wonder at why he was so happy at the prospect of his own marriage, especially since he once was a champion of living the bachelor life. Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without Mary in it, and he was eager to make her his in every way possible.
Now that Bastien’s future and that of his progeny was secure once again, Valerian meant to see to wedding preparations first thing. The requisite visit with Bastien and Ana might cause their respective royal heads to spin at the speed he planned to wed his bride. At the very least, both his mother and Bastien would be pleased to know he was shunning his rakish, bachelor ways for good as they had hoped. Making Mary his wife could not happen soon enough to satisfy him; he would have married her in Paris if he hadn’t promised her a proper wedding in Mont-Tremblant.
On the other side of the carriage, Mary pretended she was dozing when she was actually watching Valerian from beneath the heavy fall of her lashes. She was content to watch the myriad of emotions cross over his devastatingly handsome face, and she was happy to note that the dominant emotion evident there was one that involved a smile.
Marrying him wouldn’t be a hardship at all, even if it did lack the love she had hoped would be part of her own marriage. She almost snorted as she realized she was lying to herself about there being a lack of love between them. At least, on her part, she had to admit that she had grown a little in love with him; how could she not when the most handsome man she had ever known took great pains to see her happy and smiling? She looked forward to their banter since she knew it usually ended in his flirting with her, just to see her blush when he said something outrageous. And not once, did he look at another woman in her presence.
In the short time that they had spent together on this journey, it was almost unfathomable for her to think that her heart was so easily ensnared by someone so unlike anyone she had ever met. But she could no longer deny that her heart truly belonged to Valerian. As farfetched as it seemed to her to be suddenly in love with someone she barely knew, she was confident that her trust would never be misplaced in his raw honesty and his unfaltering dedication to his promises and his responsibilities. His utter allegiance to his king and country was proof positive of his duty to his commitments, and it was easy to imagine just how attentive he would be to his own marriage based on that same devotion.
Having no idea of his feelings for her, she felt a little bereft at the not knowing. For her own sake, she supposed she would have to do her best to increase his affection for her by making herself indispensable to him by being the best wife she could possibly be. She knew that doing so would be no guarantee of him loving her back, but she had to at least try to fight for what she wanted. There was no way she would passively take what fate tossed at her, and goodness knew that s
he was not the type to submit herself to a fate she disagreed with. After all, what is optimism but madness in the face of one’s own misery? Then, mad as a hatter she will be for the sake of her own happiness and future with Valerian.
Valerian smartly rapped at the carriage wall and barked an order to stop for a short break, startling Mary out of her quiet musings. It was time for the noonday meal for which they had packed a cold repast. Having been this way before, Valerian knew the spot where they could picnic while the horses grazed and could be watered at a bubbling stream. Their party needed the break to stretch out cramped limbs and to fill bellies since breakfast had seemed a lifetime ago.
With four of the guards on lookout, the rest of them sat to a quick meal of bread, a variety of cured meats and cheeses, and dried fruits. A fallen log was a proper seat for Valerian and Mary as they ate companionably side by side. As was now Valerian’s habit, he stole kisses between bites, causing Mary to blush at the thought that the others must be watching, but she said nothing to stop his antics.
Once everyone had been properly fed, and the remnants of the meal was cleaned away, Mary announced discreetly that she would like some privacy. Scowling at the mention of her wandering alone in a strange place, Valerian almost missed Mary’s averting of her eyes when she didn’t elaborate further. Suddenly catching her meaning, Valerian pointed in the direction of the trees and said, “Through there. Don’t wander too far.” As long as Valerian knew her general direction, he allowed that she would be hidden from view for a short time, and with Bastien’s guards milling about, the surrounding area was secure.
Blushing for a different reason this time, Mary excused herself as she rushed past him. It was one thing to know that natural bodily functions were completely normal, but it was another thing to have a fiancé in the vicinity when she was about to attend to one. Once the trees shielded her from the view of the others, Mary saw to the business at hand and finished in record time.
With no one in sight, she decided she should take the time to explore and wandered further through the trees to find the stream. Coming upon it, she marveled at the quiet except for the sound of the fast-moving stream rushing past, and she knelt down on the mossy bank to pool some of the fresh water into her cupped hands for a drink.
After several refreshing sips, she heard the careful footsteps of someone approaching from behind. Thinking it was Valerian who was the only one who knew she was here, she stood up and whirled about with a ready smile for him. However, she was not expecting a strange man who smiled at her toothily with stained, yellow teeth and beady eyes. She gasped at the sight of him and the wicked looking knife he had pointed in her direction, and she inhaled even deeper to yell for Valerian.
A hand from behind clamped around her jaw and mouth as a beefy arm banded around her torso, holding a knife to her throat and preventing her from alerting anyone of her distress or from fleeing the area. Rancid breath floated across her face as a guttural voice warned in her ear, “Not a word, chickee, and you won’t get hurt. Understand?”
Her eyes wild, she nodded, and the first knife-wielding man urged, “Come along then. Listen to what we say, and no one else gets hurt.” Thinking of Valerian and the others, she realized her compliance was necessary for their well-being and followed along quietly as the two thugs led her back through the trees. The one behind her pushed her forward and stayed a step behind as he prodded her with the point of his knife.
Stumbling now and again over roots and branches, Mary did her best to stay upright while being led back to where she had last left Valerian.
***
Watching Mary dash through the trees in an effort to relieve herself away from prying eyes, Valerian chuckled at the sight. There wasn’t much that woman did that he didn’t find adorable, and he found himself thoroughly entertained by the thought of being amused by her for a lifetime to come. As Mary’s form disappeared through the trees, he allowed himself to turn his thoughts homeward once more.
For his peace of mind and that of Bastien’s, he planned on delivering the Ark straight into the hands of Bastien himself, alleviating the one problem that was most easily remedied. There wasn’t much he could do in the face of political upheaval, but he did do what Bastien had asked by contacting St. Germain, and hopefully it would be enough to bring the French king to sympathize with the plight of Mont-Tremblant.
Once palace matters were dispensed with and Mary had a chance to settle comfortably in his home, they would make plans for Mary’s formal presentation to the King and Queen of Mont-Tremblant. Shortly after that, he planned on making Mary his wife as quickly as possible, and there was no way he was going to give her the chance to change her mind before he even got her to the altar.
Part of the reason for his insistence that she marry him was his fear that she would suddenly discover love with someone else other than him. She had mentioned the word “love” once before, the same day that he had met her, and he knew then that she had had hopes of a future with love in it. Before he came along and stole that future from her.
But what took him by surprise was his own feelings for her had deepened into more than just affection, and he knew that this love he was feeling for her wanted her to be happy. Stubborn as he was, he refused to let her be happy without him, and thus, he concluded that love was a confusing emotion, one he discovered he could not live without. Nor could he go on as he was without her in his life. He knew that whatever he was before couldn’t compare to the here and now with Mary at his side.
Deep in thought as he was, he was caught unawares by the sound of a pistol being cocked behind him just as he felt the cold circle of the barrel being pressed behind his head.
“Do not move, monsieur,” said a deep voice behind him. “For your people’s benefit, listen closely to what we say.”
Looking up, he watched as two strange men prodded Mary from the shelter of the trees and roared in rage when he saw the knife directed at her throat. Bastien’s guards with their guns ready and Brielle behind them were standing at a distance, horrified as their charges were being threatened. “What is the meaning of this!” he exploded.
Once again, the pistol was jammed harder against his head, and the voice continued, “Stay still, or the girl gets hurt.”
Mary shrieked, “Leave him be! I’ll listen or do whatever you want, just let him alone!”
Protecting him, was she? Did the woman not know how dangerous the situation was? he thought.
“I’m all right, Mary. Just stay quiet, and maybe they will tell us what they want,” he called.
Circling around to face Valerian with the gun still aimed at him, the thug threatened, “If either of you do anything foolish, you will regret it. We want only one thing, and we know you have it.”
“Which is?” Valerian snarled.
“You give us the Ark and the girl goes unharmed. Refusal to do so will mean you don’t care enough about her fate at our hands.”
He watched Mary’s eyes widen in fear at the threat, and his heart lurched, knowing he cared deeply what happened to her. Only, she didn’t know that, but he hoped she knew that could trust him to keep her safe.
“But your cousin needs the Ark! He needs you to bring it back to him safely,” she reminded him.
Anger at her unspoken suggestion to sacrifice her for the sake of his cousin’s kingdom made his blood boil. How dare she value her life so little, not when he needed her desperately!
But his duty to his king and country warred with his own personal feelings, and he knew that there was no way Bastien would forgive him if he lost the Ark. If he were responsible for the loss of Mont-Tremblant over one tiny female, he would forever be known for bringing disgrace to the Montchagny line. There was no precedent for him to follow in this situation and he was more conflicted than ever.
“And I need you safe, my lady,” he answered her. Disregarding the pistol-wielding man before him, he ripped the key off of the chain around his neck, stalked to the carriage, and produced th
e locked chest.
Handing both the chest and the key to the thug, he said, “Here, the Ark as promised. Now let her go.”
“No!” Mary cried, and she ran to him, grasping him by the upper arms. “What does this mean for your cousin and your country?”
“It means that I could not leave you in their hands, not when I could prevent it,” he replied as he looked deep into her distraught eyes. There would have to be some other way to get the Ark back, providing they were left alive after this. In the clear depths of her beloved eyes, he saw understanding dawn slowly, but she was prevented from replying by the sound of two more guns being cocked.
This time, one gun was aimed at her while the other at Valerian. The guards moved in closer at the continued threat, but the thug who was clearly the leader yelled, “Stay back!”
Gesturing to Valerian and Mary with the gun, the thug instructed, “You two, get into the carriage.” Without a word, Mary climbed in with Valerian following after her. The thug who held the chest containing the Ark followed in after them, the gun still trained upon them. Then he yelled out, “Take up the reins, Osgood. Brebeuf, make sure they don’t follow us.”
