by Eve Devon
With Lou having nothing to do with what happened in her apartment, she would concentrate on helping Adam to display the Pasha Star. Any spare moment she had would be taken up with researching Nathaniel Hawk’s involvement with Zarrenburg. Leaving her precisely no time to devote to wishing Adam could see her differently.
The car pulled to a stop, and the door was opened by a guard dressed in uniform. Adam exited, and Honeysuckle followed.
They were in a vast open-air cobbled courtyard within the castle grounds. Together they looked from the crenellated outer perimeter walls to the turreted connected buildings. Every square inch of the medieval architecture had been repainted white for the coronation.
Honeysuckle wanted to sketch it, cast it in platinum. Create something as wonderful in miniature as it was spectacular in real life.
Closing her eyes, she thought she might be able to hear the hooves of horses carrying medieval knights from centuries gone by. With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes again and imagined vines crawling up some of the turreted towers and roses blooming along the leaded arched windows.
“You’re thinking it looks like something out of a fairy tale,” Adam said out of the side of his mouth.
She swung around to look at him.
“Am I right?” he asked, not taking his gaze from her. “You’re looking at the place as if magical things can happen here.” He tipped his head slightly in that way he had of percolating the information running through his head. “And you’re looking like you’re itching to use all this inspiration in your jewelry.”
Honeysuckle’s heart tripped right over itself. “I look that transparent?”
That kiss had changed everything, making it impossible for either of them to totally hide from each other.
Adam hesitated, and then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he leaned into her and said quietly, “Actually, what you look is beautiful.”
Honeysuckle was very afraid the frown of disapproval she tried to form wasn’t getting past the glow or the smile his words produced. She fiddled with the strap of her purse, cleared her throat, and said, “They say the throne room is thirty-five meters long and that twenty-five crystal chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling on long jewel-encrusted chains.”
Adam’s chuckle was warm and appreciative, and her wretched heart slipped right into ignoring the fact he hadn’t apologized for thinking she could steal from an employer.
The sound of a door opening caught her attention, and a man dressed in a conservative charcoal-gray suit stepped out into the courtyard and approached them both.
“Mr. Steel, Ms. Hawk, allow me to introduce myself. I am Gustav Ambrus, Head of Operations and Ceremonies here at Castle Zarrenburg. Ms. Hawk, I have enjoyed our discussions about the Pasha Star.”
“Thank you, it’s been a pleasure for me too, and, please, call me Honeysuckle.”
Gustav looked as if manners dictated that a step too far. “Follow me, and I will ensure our security procedure is completed so that you can settle into your suite.”
Honeysuckle tried not to leave her jaw on the ground as she and Adam were led through a discreet archway and into the main body of the castle.
After the winter sunshine reflecting off the white façade of the building, it took a few moments to adjust to the darkness that came from all the intricately carved mahogany paneling. The temperature inside was a degree or so cooler and Honeysuckle pulled her navy, woolen, military-style coat closer.
“There is a special gala dinner tonight,” Gustav was explaining as he walked them along black-and-white-flagstone corridors. “Prince Zoltan is looking forward to receiving his VIP guests for the coronation. I have been asked to inform you that he has allotted fifteen minutes to meet with you. I am sure he will want to discuss displaying the Pasha Star and also make it known that Zarrenburg extends the warmest of welcomes to Steel Hawk.”
Honeysuckle met Adam’s eye. He understood, as did she, that Gustav was telling them exactly what they would be discussing when they met with the royal that evening.
Butterflies danced in her belly as she thought about any guests who didn’t observe conversational protocol and felt free to comment on her previous employment. She would have to deal with it, she quietly asserted. No way was she going to let Adam down. Let Steel Hawk down.
Gustav stopped in front of a small office and ushered them inside.
A guard sat behind the desk. As they entered, he rose and picked up a wand to scan them with.
Honeysuckle followed Adam’s lead and held her arms out to the side.
As the wand moved over her, Honeysuckle could see that their luggage had already been decanted from the car and presumably scanned as well. She gave the guard her purse to search, and then they were both being given laminates with their credentials and a barcode on them.
“On the backs of these passes, you will find a map of the castle. The areas indicated in red are the rooms you have been cleared to access. I don’t advise that you try accessing any of the other rooms.”
Honeysuckle inspected the back of her pass. She had access to her suite, the gatehouse administrative areas, the throne room and ballroom.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Mr. Ambrus, I have heard that within the castle there is a library and records room.”
“You are referring, perhaps, to the records vault?”
“Yes. I wonder whom I would talk with to access the castle’s records.”
“For what purpose would this be?” Gustav asked, his shrewd gaze assessing.
Honeysuckle tried to remind herself she’d been brought along as liaison between Steel Hawk and the royal family. As such, she shouldn’t be afraid to ask for anything that might help shed light on who wrote the book and why.
“I would very much like to learn more about Steel Hawk’s relationship with Zarrenburg while I am here.”
Gustav remained silent, and Honeysuckle’s heart sank.
“Gustav,” Adam intervened, “I am sure you are aware of the book that’s recently been published concerning Steel Hawk’s cofounder.”
“You wish to investigate our records for information on Nathaniel Hawk?” Gustav asked.
“I do, yes.”
“Very well.” He held out his palm, and Honeysuckle passed him her laminate. “I see no issue with this. I will, of course, have to run it by Anton Haas, our head of security. I have scheduled you both to have a meeting with him this afternoon to finalize arrangements for setting up your equipment. If he agrees, I will have your pass redone to give you access to the records vault, and you can collect it then.”
“Mine too,” Adam said, adding his pass to Honeysuckle’s.
“Of course.” Gustav went over to a filing drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. “This is a map to get you from your suite to Anton’s offices. He will brief you about when the jewels will be transported from the royal vault to the display. The Pasha Star will, of course, be transported under armed guard straight after the coronation ceremony at the cathedral.”
Honeysuckle looked at Adam. The small smile on his face gave her the impression that he approved of rooms being labeled vaults and that after this he might consider renaming his lab. If he only knew he was his own vault—his heart of steel locked up tight.
“Your equipment is being stored in the loading-bay delivery area,” Gustav said. “As per your instructions, no one has been permitted to open the crates. After it is scanned, I will arrange for it to be taken to the throne room for your assembly.”
“Thank you. Oh…” Honeysuckle hesitated as Gustav led them toward an elevator.
“Is there a problem?”
Adam had gone pale, but she knew he could travel in the elevator if he had to, though now she knew about his phobia, she didn’t want him to have to. “Is there a convenient way of accessing our rooms without using the elevator?”
Gustav glanced at his watch.
“We will ride in the elevator,” Adam insisted smoothly, and Gustav appeared relieved as he pressed the button and the doors slid open.
Inside, the man inserted a card into the elevator’s access panel. “When you receive your passes, you will need one to make the elevator work.”
“So no one can use the elevators without being guests of the prince?” Adam queried, and Honeysuckle noticed his voice got tight as the elevator jolted before ascending.
“That is correct.”
“And is this the royal family’s main residence?” Honeysuckle asked, hoping conversation would help ease the experience for Adam. Standing shoulder to shoulder with him, she could feel his tension.
“Yes, although the family resides elsewhere during the summer months when the castle is opened to the public to generate income. The royal lodgings are never opened up. They take up fifteen rooms at the top of what was originally the castle keep. They have been somewhat modernized over the years to contain every comfort.”
Staring straight ahead, with only centimeters separating her from Adam, wanting only to ease some of his discomfort, Honeysuckle reached out and touched the back of her hand to his.
Instantly, his fingers twisted to capture hers and squeeze before letting go. Nerve endings fizzed and sparked, and for a second, she knew he felt it too. It was there in the subtle inhale of breath. The way his jawline took on the appearance of granite.
Suddenly, the elevator came to a halt, the doors sprang open, and Gustav was still talking. “Your rooms form part of the original royal chambers and as such are on the floor we allow the public into. You will be able to differentiate original building work from the remodeled by the protective Perspex paneling covering it.”
Gustav paused outside an arched wooden doorway with stunning ironwork hinges embedded into it in a floral pattern. Excitement curled in Honeysuckle’s belly as she felt the spark of inspiration. She wanted to capture the flow of the ironwork brackets in maybe a locket or perhaps a cabochon tray that she could inset with garnets. Feeling lightheaded, she pressed a hand to her heart and waited for the uncertainty to set in.
But it didn’t, and the urge to create was both sickeningly familiar and gloriously alien. She had to remind herself she was here to do a job, not reach out and run her fingers over the door covered in the clear protective sheeting Gustav had described.
“Again, when you are reunited with your pass, insert it into the reader beside the door as if you were using a hotel key card.” He took out his own passkey and pushed open the door. Honeysuckle and Adam stepped inside.
It was like stepping into a film set.
Ruby-red rugs stretched over polished wooden floorboards. Oak paneling clad the walls up to a height of eight feet. Above that, large sandstone bricks met the vaulted ceiling; its arches and ceiling rose trimmed with the same embossed wood.
Beautiful silk tapestries hung from the engraved wrought-iron rods that matched the pattern on the door. The area they’d walked into was laid out as a small lounge with table, secretaire, Queen Anne chairs, and a large lit fireplace.
Honeysuckle walked through one of two doorways leading from the small lounge and tried not to gasp aloud at the sight of the huge four-poster, canopied bed cloaked in sumptuous ivory silk with an intricate interlocking pattern in gold and emerald green. Unable to help herself, she reached out to run her fingers up and over one of the bedposts.
Adam stopped beside her, his gaze going from the beautiful bed to her hand, to her face.
Spellbound in a room that personified romance, and with Adam watching her carefully, she felt herself blush.
“I would like to introduce you to Elsa,” Gustav said from the doorway, and the spell was broken. Thankful, Honeysuckle turned to find a blonde woman standing patiently beside the head of operations.
“Elsa is the princess’s personal maid and has been given responsibility for the gowns that will be worn at the coronation ball.”
“If you allow me to take your gown, madam,” Elsa said, bringing Honeysuckle’s luggage in and setting it at the foot of the bed, “I will ensure it is pressed before being returned to you in good time for getting ready.”
After opening the larger of her two cases, Honeysuckle lifted out a long black Christian Dior garment bag. “Are you able to carry it on your own?” she asked, worried the floor-length garment bag with its special padded hangers for bodice and skirt would be too much for the petite woman.
“Of course, madam. And jewelry?”
“Excuse me?” Honeysuckle felt a little clutch at the thought of handing over her jewelry. She breathed deeply and felt the security of her Steel Hawk key hanging from her neck. After coming so close to losing it, she wasn’t comfortable handing it over.
“Is there jewelry you would like polished before the ball?” Elsa was explaining. “I can arrange that and then store it securely for you.”
“Oh.” Honeysuckle supposed there would be a lot of jewelry being catalogued and stored within the castle safe. But her Steel Hawk key wouldn’t be among them. She still had to fit it to the special chain she had designed. “Thank you. No.”
“No, madam?” Elsa looked briefly to Gustav, obviously unprepared for such an answer.
Something shifted in the air, and Honeysuckle prepared to stand her ground. Withdrawing an oblong box of black velvet that contained a diamond tennis bracelet she had been planning to wear to the gala dinner that evening, she passed that instead to the maid. “What I meant was I do not require it to be cleaned first.” She smiled at Elsa, and was it her imagination or did Elsa stare at her with a strange intensity as she placed the box between the folded halves of the garment bag and left the room.
“I shall leave you to settle before your briefing,” Gustav said and bowed out of the room also.
Honeysuckle frowned.
“I suppose I had better unpack my tux,” Adam said.
“What? Oh yes,” she answered distractedly. “Did you think that was odd?” she asked, turning to face Adam. “When Elsa asked me for my jewelry?”
“All I saw was a tiny woman wrestling with a designer bag. Relax. You sound as if you think she wanted to steal it.”
“No, that wasn’t it. I—” She paused, feeling the gossamer-thin connection they’d made earlier disappear. “Contrary to what you obviously think, I do not go around thinking about stealing all the time.”
“You want me to apologize for it crossing my mind that you could have taken that money and run—”
“Trust me,” she interrupted, hating that he kept emphasizing running away. As if her family hadn’t accused her of that every job she left. “If you had been privy to Lou’s reaction, you wouldn’t have stuck around either.”
“Of course the man was upset. He thought he was having a private conversation, not being watched and judged as doing something illegal,” Adam bit out before holding out his hands in frustration. “Look, I get why you ran. I guess if I’d seen a man like Lou talking with a city official, I might have assumed I was looking at a kickback going down and not him saying good night to his boyfriend. But you really can’t blame the guy for getting upset that he’d had his sexuality revealed before he was ready.”
Honeysuckle’s heart sank. “I thought you got it, but you really don’t, do you? It’s not about that I ran. I did what was sensible because Lou’s reaction was completely out of proportion, although at least I understand why now. But this is about how you can’t say you know one hundred percent that when I ran, I didn’t take the money with me. And every time you say I deserve an apology, you never actually apologize.”
Seconds ticked by while she watched him struggle to say that he knew he was wrong to think she’d taken the money.
“I—”
“Don’t.” She put trembling fingers over his lips. “You think I want to hear it afte
r I’ve had to spell it out for you? And please don’t expect me to be happy that I keep thinking about kissing a man who claims to want me and yet can’t rule out that I might be a thief.”
* * * * *
The gala dinner was a tense affair. The music was a little too harpsichord. The food was a little too rich. The guests, as they vied for attention, were somewhat overpowering. The tables had been cleared, and as Adam watched Honeysuckle talking to a famous British entrepreneur, he thought she had to be feeling as strung out as he did. Now they were at the castle and the coronation was tomorrow, Adam felt as if he was running out of time. Running out of time to investigate if the book’s claims were real. Running out of time to work out who had written the book and shut down what might be next.
Running out of time to make things right with Honeysuckle.
Adam knew that underneath the table of snowy-white linen, gold flatware, and crystal glasses, Honeysuckle’s foot would be double-tapping out her nerves. And he didn’t know that because he could see her foot or feel the vibrations from it tapping against the parquet flooring. It was because she’d done that when he interviewed her for the job. Back then, he had thought her response charming. Honest and real. Different from all the others.
He brought his tumbler of amber liquid to his lips and swallowed.
There were things he’d always registered about Honeysuckle but chosen to keep locked away in a strongbox in his mind, subheaded “Dangerous if Opened”, so he could focus on work.
Because she was his assistant and he couldn’t afford to look at her any other way.
But now he felt like scum that he’d hurt her.
Of course he knew deep down she’d never taken Lou’s money. But vocalizing that knowledge left him wide open. He was too used to hedging his bets, never letting himself look like he might have got it wrong again. So he’d done what he always did. He’d put it in the box marked “Dangerous if Opened” and got on with business.
Well, now he couldn’t get on with business until he repaired the damage he’d caused and apologized properly to her.
