by Cheryl Holt
She was trying to remember, but was failing miserably.
“You’re making too much of this,” she claimed.
“In my view, I’m not making nearly enough,” Cedric huffed. “I told you not to leave Parthenia.”
“I never received your letter!”
“Someone obviously wants Nicholas back, and they’re so determined that they’d kidnap him.”
“There’s no proof they were specifically looking for him. They might have been slavers and not set on any particular boy.”
At voicing the comment, she shuddered with dread. Was it better to imagine they’d been slavers? Was it better to imagine it had been random rather than targeted?
Cedric scoffed. “Don’t talk to me as if I’m a fool, Katarina.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw the bodies of the two brigands. If they’re not from Parthenia, I’ll eat my hat.”
“But it’s insane to assume they’re from Parthenia. We were stripped of our titles and lands. We were cast out like vagabonds. Why force our return?”
“How would I know? Why don’t you save everyone an enormous amount of trouble and head home?”
“We don’t belong there,” she caustically retorted. “Not anymore.”
“Well, if you don’t belong there, you don’t belong anywhere.”
“No. That’s the problem.”
She peered down at her lap, exhausted that life had to be so hard. One day in her recent past, she’d been a rich, contented princess. The next, she’d been tossed away like garbage. Where was a princess supposed to go when she wasn’t a princess anymore? Where was a king supposed to go?
“I’ve written to Valois,” Cedric said.
“On what topic?”
“I’ve asked him to find you lodging in Cairo.”
“Thank you for consulting me first,” she tersely stated.
Cedric ignored the jibe. “I requested a property with gates and walls so you can be safer there than you were here.”
She recalled that the initial attack in Cairo had occurred directly outside Valois’s villa. No doubt she wouldn’t be safe, no matter where she put down roots, and she simply couldn’t fathom why they were having difficulties.
They hadn’t been welcome in Parthenia, so they’d left. It’s what the citizenry had appeared to want. Kat had accepted their fate, hadn’t fought or chastised. Why couldn’t people just let them be?
“When are we to leave?” she inquired.
“As soon as you’re packed.”
“You’re kicking us out. Is it what you truly desire? For I must tell you—if we depart—you’ll probably never see us again.”
“I certainly hope not.”
At his heartless reply, she gasped, and he recognized how cruel he’d sounded.
“I just mean—”
“I know what you mean, Uncle Cedric. You were very clear when we arrived. We are your nieces and your nephew. We are facing many obstacles, but you can’t be bothered to aid us.”
“It’s not that!” he hotly responded. “It’s dangerous for you here! There was a shooting in my camp! Two criminals were killed.”
“I realize that fact.”
“I’ve had Valois bribe the authorities so they don’t investigate, but we’re lucky Mr. Blair wasn’t arrested.”
She scowled. “He was defending my brother from kidnappers. Why would he have been detained for such a heroic act?”
“We’re foreigners, Katarina, in a foreign land. We don’t have any status or privileges. I shouldn’t have to explain our precarious situation to you.”
“He was protecting us!”
Cedric slammed his fist on his desk. “I won’t argue the point!”
Bryce must have heard them quarreling. He’d been waiting outside, and he poked his head in.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Everything is fine,” Cedric said.
Bryce flicked his cool gaze to Kat. “What is your opinion, Miss Webster? Is everything fine?”
“Yes, Mr. Blair, and we’re almost finished. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Katarina and the children will be sailing shortly for Cairo,” Cedric told him. “Monsieur Valois is renting lodging for them in the city.”
Bryce looked at Kat, a thousand comments flitting between them, but they would never have a conversation in front of Cedric.
“I’m sure that’s wise,” Bryce ultimately said.
“I’m sure it is too,” Cedric agreed, “for she’s not safe in the desert with me.”
“Is that what you want, Miss Webster?” Bryce asked her.
She wondered how to answer. He was such a marvelous champion. If she demanded to stay, would he refuse to let Cedric throw her out?
But she wouldn’t push the issue. Her uncle was eager to evict her, and she’d learned a bitter lesson in Parthenia. When her presence was blatantly unpalatable, she wouldn’t beg to remain.
“It’s best if we leave,” she murmured. “I’ll fill you in on the details in a moment.”
He slipped out, and she knew he’d be close by. Nicholas and Isabelle were with him too, playing where he could observe them. He was determined to keep them in his sight at all times. It was obvious the other guards—most especially Chase Hubbard—couldn’t be trusted.
Cedric riffled through a stack of papers and pulled out an envelope.
“You received a letter,” he informed her.
She blanched with shock. “I received a letter? Who knows I am here?”
“From the markings on the front, it’s easy to see who’s written.”
He handed it to her, and her shock intensified. It was from the royal court, the King’s seal stamped on it.
She ripped it open and, on reading Kristof’s signature, she nearly fell out of her chair. He was ordering her home, ordering her to bring Nicholas and Isabelle too.
She was furious and aggrieved. During her frantic journey south, he must have had spies following her. They must have been tracking her movements and filing reports.
The attacks on Kat and Nicholas must have been orchestrated by Kristof. Evidently his minions were desperate to retrieve them by any method necessary, and considering the force they’d employed, Kristof must have told them rough treatment would be allowed without consequence.
Kat was humiliated all over again, but frightened too. The threat to Nicholas suddenly reared up. She remembered the whispered warning from her father’s friend, the man’s insistence that she take Nicholas and go.
Why would Kristof order them back unless Nicholas wasn’t safe?
“What does he say?” Cedric asked.
“He’s commanded me to return Nicholas to Parthenia.”
“Will you?”
“Absolutely not.”
They were the last words she ever spoke to her uncle. She stood and swept out.
* * * *
“We have to talk.”
“I was wondering when you’d get around to it.”
Chase peered over at Bryce and sighed with regret. He and Bryce had been friends since they were boys. They’d both staggered into their boarding school as homeless orphans, waifs who had no one to worry about them, no one to care.
Chase had arrived, having lost his parents and having been separated from his only sister, and he’d been bewildered and forlorn. The students had mostly been from lofty families. Many had had noble parents, while others like Chase were the natural born sons of aristocrats. A few were like Bryce who’d seemed to have come from an elevated background, though his antecedents were uncertain.
He’d claimed his father had been a prince and he’d grow up to be a king, but no one had believed him. His lies had spawned many fistfights, so he’d learned how to defend himself.
By the time Chase had been enrolled, Bryce had become the unofficial protector of those students who were picked on or bullied. At the ripe old age of eight, Bryce had been Chase’s hero. As a result, Chase had never had
any problems at school. He’d merely mention that he was being harassed, and Bryce resolved any difficulty.
Bryce was magnificent that way. He couldn’t tolerate an injustice, couldn’t bear to see a person tormented or harmed, and Chase had always deemed himself incredibly lucky that Bryce had bothered to take Chase under his wing.
Bryce had constantly proved himself to be loyal and true, but Chase had rarely reciprocated those stellar traits. He simply didn’t have it in him to be trustworthy or dependable. Had he finally squandered Bryce’s goodwill?
They were on a boat and sailing for Cairo. It was one of those perfect Egyptian evenings, the sun setting in the west, the Nile stretching on forever. A row of pyramids dotted the horizon, the stones glowing an eerie purple color as the sky darkened.
The crew had anchored for the night, but Bryce had refused to have them stop by the river’s banks. They liked to cook their supper and sleep on the sand, but Bryce wouldn’t permit it. They would bob about in the middle so it would be hard for a brigand to approach.
Chase wasn’t overly concerned about Miss Webster or her siblings. Yes, he’d agreed to guard them, but only so he could pay his fare to England. It had never occurred to him that he’d actually have to work to earn the money.
Not for a single second had he expected a violent incident to transpire, and he wasn’t about to endanger himself on their behalves. Once they reached Cairo, he would request his wages, then leave Miss Webster to her own devices. He hoped he could convince Bryce to leave too, but he was apprehensive about Bryce.
While neither Bryce nor Miss Webster had provided the smallest indication of a developing fondness, Chase knew Bryce really well. To his dismay, Bryce seemed smitten.
“Let me have it,” Chase grumbled. “You’re fairly bursting with indignation. Go ahead and scold me. I’m ready.”
“Don’t be flippant. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’ve said I was sorry a dozen times. How can I give you a pound of flesh if you won’t accept it?”
When Nicholas was nearly kidnapped, Chase should have been watching the tent, but he’d sneaked off with Pippa. In the brawl that had ensued, Bryce had killed two men, and even though they’d deserved their fate, Bryce took that sort of thing very seriously.
He was angry with Chase for shirking his duty, but in Chase’s defense, he hadn’t felt disaster would ever strike. He’d dubbed Miss Webster a trembling worrier, but apparently her fears were justified, which meant Chase had signed onto the wrong convoy.
“You were in charge of Nicholas,” Bryce chided as if Chase were ten.
“I know, I know.”
“That’s our job. It’s what we are being paid to do.”
“We haven’t received a farthing yet, have we?”
“We’ll be paid, although after what happened, if Miss Webster decides to reduce what we were promised, I wouldn’t be surprised. I have no desire to be trapped here because you screwed up and lost us the money we were owed.”
“Gad, that would be the limit, wouldn’t it? We get roped into a predicament that ultimately requires swordplay, and when we step up, we’re slapped on the wrist.”
“We weren’t involved in swordplay, Chase. I didn’t see you anywhere during the entire fiasco. If I remember correctly, it all fell on my shoulders.”
“Yes, it did.”
“You didn’t have to accept this position,” Bryce reminded him.
“I’m aware of that fact.”
“Where were you when the trouble started? It would be nice if I could hear the truth for once.”
Chase smiled a sly smile. “A gentleman never tells.”
“No he doesn’t, and since you’re not a gentleman and we both know it, the prohibition doesn’t apply. What were you doing?”
“I was dallying. What would you suppose?”
“Was it by any chance with Miss Clementi?”
Chase shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“What are your plans with regard to her?”
“Must I have plans?”
“Is she expecting decent behavior from you? Might she be expecting a marriage proposal when you’re through?”
“No,” Chase scoffed. “She has even less scruples than I do.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“She doesn’t anticipate or want a commitment from me. Besides, she has big ideas back in her home country that don’t include me.”
“So I don’t need to have a word with her about you?”
“No. Why would you? I’m not a child, Bryce. Don’t fuss over me as if you’re my father.”
“With the way you act, Chase, sometimes I feel like I’m your father. Nicholas might have been murdered. Does that possibility resonate with you?”
“I like the boy, but you’re braver than I am. We both understand that you are. I wouldn’t have jumped in front of a line of brigands to protect him, but you were happy to imperil yourself.”
“I’m not happy about it at all. I killed two men, and even if they were criminals, it’s extremely disturbing to me.”
“Better them than you.”
Bryce threw up his hands. “Why am I wasting my breath?”
“What would you have me say, Bryce? I’m glad Nicholas is all right. I’m glad no harm was inflicted on either of you. And I’m sorry for the whole bloody debacle. Are you satisfied now? I think I’m done apologizing.”
They glared, on the brink of a quarrel, but it would never begin. Bryce wasn’t the type to shout or argue, and Chase couldn’t be goaded into a lather on any topic.
“When we arrive in Cairo,” Bryce eventually said, “you shouldn’t continue working for Miss Webster.”
Chase chuckled. “Are you firing me? Because if you are, I should probably inform you that I’ll quit as soon as I can.”
“How soon?”
“If I can convince Miss Webster to give me my wages, I’ll book passage to England immediately. What about you? Will you come with me or will you stay behind?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Why haven’t you? Are you sweet on pretty, mysterious Miss Webster?”
“No,” Bryce insisted.
“Are you sure? You were with her down at the bathing pools when the brouhaha started with Nicholas.”
“I was guarding her, Chase. That’s why we were employed, remember?”
“I remember. You’re not involved with her? You’re not sneaking off in the dark to misbehave?”
“No,” Bryce insisted again. “As opposed to Miss Clementi, Miss Webster has high moral standards.”
“Meaning what? She won’t lower herself to consort with you?”
“Yes, that’s precisely what I mean.”
“Then why would you remain?”
“She’s all alone in the world, and she’s in trouble. I don’t mind helping her.”
“And that’s all it will be? You helping a damsel in distress?”
“Yes.”
“You’re so chivalrous, Bryce. I wish I could be more like you.”
“No, you don’t. You’re happy being your usual corrupt self.”
Chase considered, then grinned. “You could be right.”
Chase studied Bryce, wondering as to his claims about Miss Webster.
Pippa was pushing Chase to aid her in a scheme she was hatching against Miss Webster. Pippa had adamantly and repeatedly declared it wouldn’t be horrid or awful. It would just be a way for Pippa to earn a ton of money and head home wealthy.
If Bryce had an emotional attachment to Miss Webster, Chase wouldn’t entangle himself in Pippa’s plot. But if Bryce didn’t care about Miss Webster, if he wasn’t fond, then Chase had no qualms about participating.
Pippa had offered him an exorbitant reward for his assistance, and he was a scoundrel. He’d be the first to admit it. Even so, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt a female. Did he trust Pippa? No, and he’d definitely pressure her to provide more details. If nothing sounded dodgy, he’d be delighted to pocket
the extra funds.
Still though, he frowned at Bryce. “Are you positive you’re not lusting after Miss Webster?”
“I said no. Why keep asking me about her?”
“You’re together constantly. You seem very friendly.”
“It’s because I’m a friendly person, Chase, and at the moment, she doesn’t have any friends.”
“There’s no chance of an amour developing?”
“Are you joking? I have no idea who she really is, but whoever she turns out to be, she’ll be much too lofty for a man of my station.”
“You’re a bloody earl, Bryce.”
“Only in fairytales.”
“You could make it come true.”
“Never in a thousand years.”
From Bryce’s stoic expression, Chase understood the issue was closed. He couldn’t comprehend Bryce’s decision not to fight for his heritage and had given up pleading with him about it.
It was likely jumbled up in those hard times at school when he’d tell people he was a prince and he hadn’t been believed.
Yet if he’d proclaim himself and seize what was lawfully his, he’d be Earl of Radcliffe. No matter Miss Webster’s actual rank, Bryce would be a suitable match for her. Even if she was a princess—and with how she acted, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn she was—Bryce would be a good match for her. A bit low, but still good.
Chase shucked off the dilemma. Bryce wasn’t interested in her, and she was too far above him. With that being Bryce’s opinion, he would never reach for her.
So…Chase wasn’t bound by any loyalty to Bryce over Miss Webster. Pippa needed his help and would pay him handsomely for whatever that dubious, unexplained help wound up being.
Why not? Chase mused.
It couldn’t be any worse than many of the other sordid deeds he’d done in his sorry life. He grabbed the liquor decanter and refilled his glass.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“It was your father’s.”
“Seriously?”
“I thought you’d like to have it.”
Bryce gaped at Valois. They were back where they’d started, in Cairo at his villa, all of them his guests until a rental property was arranged for Kat and her siblings.
