Courting Carolina

by Chapman, Janet

  Jane gave an exuberant wave at the guard sitting on a boulder as she galloped past, recognizing from his size and sun-bronzed skin that he was Atlantean. And judging by his grin, Jane guessed it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Princess Carolina racing by on a horse with Nicholas in pursuit. Although back on Atlantis, Nicholas had always made sure his horse was faster—unlike today, thanks to her arrogant suitor.

  Jane had no more than rounded a bend in the path when she gave a startled shriek, realizing that Hashim had caught up with her. She veered away when he tried to grab her reins, and then she pulled her mare to a stop with another laugh. “Ah, Hashim, this beautiful mare is magnifi—” He threw his leg over his stallion’s neck and, reaching out and snagging Jane’s hair, dragged her with him as he slid to the ground. “Hey!” she cried out in pain, shoving against him. “What is your prob—” She cried out again when he slapped her hard enough that she fell to the ground.

  “You stupid bitch!” he shouted, bending to her.

  But before Hashim could touch her again, Jane’s stalwart protector sent the angry warrior sprawling onto his back with a well-placed fist to the jaw. “Get her out of here,” Nicholas growled over his shoulder just as Hashim sprang to his feet.

  Jane flinched in surprise when a pair of strong hands clasped her from behind and lifted her to her feet, then held her steady as she seemed to be trembling with shock or disbelief—or both. “Easy now,” the man said, leading her away. “Come, highness,” he said more firmly as she tried to turn around to see what was going on.

  “He’s got a knife!” she cried when Hashim suddenly pulled the weapon from his boot. She gave the guard a shove. “I’m okay. Go help Nicholas!”

  “Lina, go,” Nicholas snapped without taking his eyes off his opponent crouched to strike as sunlight glinted off the knife in his hand. “And take the mare and the stallion with you,” he added in a provoking, almost bored tone.

  “Highness, come,” the guard repeated in perfect English, snatching up the mare’s reins and handing them to her while still clasping her arm. And then the man actually grinned as he led her toward the stallion that had wandered back up the path. “I’m enjoying this particular tour of duty too much to insult Nicholas by helping him deal with one measly opponent.” He gently tugged her forward when she looked back in time to see Nicholas deflect the slashing knife just before driving his fist into Hashim’s face again. “Here, your lip’s bleeding,” the guard said, reaching in his pocket without breaking stride and pulling out a handkerchief.

  Jane dabbed at her mouth while trying not to notice that her hand was shaking, and took another look back as they rounded a bend and saw Nicholas drive his boot into Hashim’s belly. “Um…what’s your name?” she asked, licking the cloth then carefully wiping the blood off her chin. Sweet Athena, she couldn’t believe the bastard had actually struck her.

  “Rowan.” He finally let go of her arm, apparently deciding she wasn’t going to run back and help Nicholas herself, and shortened his stride to match hers as they led the mare and stallion over the crest of a knoll. He shook his head with a chuckle. “I have no idea why the Bedouin was so angry. I used to watch you galloping all over Atlantis as a child, and you rode better than most warriors.” He glanced over at her and winced. “There’s a bubbling spring a short distance away,” he said. “I think we should wet that cloth and cool off your cheek to slow the swelling.” He shook his head again. “I can’t believe the bast—the fool had the nerve to strike you.”

  Finding her trembling easing in direct proportion to her distance from Hashim, Jane snorted. “What about it can’t you believe: that the ancient-minded bastard had the nerve to strike a woman or to strike Titus’s daughter?”

  Rowan snapped his gaze to hers, but then grinned again. “Actually, highness, I can’t believe he didn’t have the sense to know you would have struck him back if Nicholas hadn’t come along.”

  Jane took one last calming breath, only to flinch when a clap of thunder suddenly split the air and shook the ground, then broke into a wincing smile when she realized she was now down to two and a half suitors. “So, Rowan,” she said, sliding her arm through his, “tell me what your favorite thing is about this century.”

  Jane smoothed down the front of her fleece, patted her carefully made-up cheek, then opened the door of her parents’ cottage and strode inside. “It was my fault,” she said, causing four sets of eyes to turn to her—two sets glowering, one filled with concern, and one giving her a speaking glare.

  “This is about me, Lina, not you,” Nicholas said tightly, his glare intensifying.

  “My getting slapped isn’t about me?”

  “Oh, Caro,” her mother said, rushing to her. She held Jane’s shoulders as she studied her face, then touched her swollen cheek. “I can’t believe Hashim had the audacity to actually strike you.” Her concern turned to an equally intense glare as she looked at Titus. “If this is anyone’s fault, it’s yours,” Rana said, guiding Jane over to her father. “You’ve brought warriors here from centuries where women are considered nothing more than chattel. Look at her,” she demanded when Titus lowered his gaze. “This stops now. You send the remaining men back today and stop this insanity.”

  “The men stay,” her father said with imperial authority. “And if Carolina hasn’t chosen one of them by the night of the ball, I will choose for her.”

  “Titus,” Rana said on a soft gasp, her face flushing with…Jane couldn’t tell if it was anger or shock.

  Her father arched a brow. “Last time I checked, my word was still law in this family.” He looked at Jane. “Choose.”

  “By the gods, Caro, just pick one,” Mac growled. “The Crusader; marry the infidel-killing idiot so you can finally be free.”

  “Free?” Jane whispered, turning to face him. “How would going from a dictatorial father to an equally ancient-minded husband possibly make me free?”

  Mac stepped closer. “Devonshire will head off on one of his Crusades the day after you announce you’re with child.”

  “And if he decides to stick around to watch his child grow up?”

  Mac waved that away. “You’ll twist him in such a knot trying to please you, the bastard won’t know if he’s coming or going. Or marry Sir Garth. The chivalrous fool will be putty in your hands. Just pick one, so you can get on with your life.”

  “Well, fine then,” she snapped, keeping her eyes locked on his. “I pick Niall.”

  He stilled. “The hell you will.”

  Jane spun toward Titus. “On the condition that we get to live in this century.”

  Mac turned his thunderous glare on Titus. “She’s not marrying a MacKeage! Send him back. Today. Better yet, do as Mother says and send them all back and marry her to Nicholas.”

  Jane clutched her chest on a gasp. “What? No!” She shot Nicholas a frantic look, but when he merely lowered his eyes, Jane looked at Mac, incredulous. “Are you insane? Nicholas is more like a brother to me than you are.”

  “Enough,” Rana said with her own quiet authority, wrapping an arm around Jane and giving her a squeeze. “Carolina still has nine days to decide, and no one—especially not you, Maximilian—is deciding for her.” She gave her husband a barely perceptible nod. “Fine then,” she said with utter calm, “you will learn Carolina’s choice the night of the ball.” She led Jane toward the door. “I only hope, husband, that you are prepared to live with the consequences.”

  “Mama,” Jane whispered once they were outside. “What have you done?”

  “I have no idea,” she whispered back, guiding Jane down the steps. Rana took hold of her hand and continued walking up the path leading to the summit. “Well, other than buy us nine days,” she said with a sigh. She shook her head. “But I know that look in your father’s eyes, Caro, and he’s not budging.”

  “But why is it so important that I get married?” Jane gestured angrily behind them. “It’s not like he’s dying for grandbabies; he has Henry and Ella of
direct blood, and Sophie is just as dear to him. Why do I have to get married?”

  “I believe he’s scared,” Rana said, shaking her head again. “I don’t know of what, but there’s something he’s not telling me that’s making him act so unreasonably all of a sudden. He gets this way sometimes; all closed up and unreadable, as if he thinks he’s protecting me from…from whatever,” she said with an angry wave. She started walking faster. “I swear one of these days I’m simply going to explode in sheer frustration and leave him.”

  Jane pulled her to a stop. “No! Father would die if you left him.”

  “I see; so you can run away, but I can’t?”

  “But I’m his daughter; I’m supposed to leave home. But you…Mama, you love Daddy more than life itself. And he loves you.”

  Rana started walking again. “Yes, he loves me so much that he treats me as if I’m some fragile, simpering woman who can’t handle the truth—like now. Why in Hades won’t he simply tell me what’s going on?”

  Jane captured her mother’s fisted hand and swung it between them. “And you’ve never once protected Daddy by keeping your problems from him? Say…like the time that Roman emperor cornered you in our garden several years ago?” She glanced over with a smile. “Did Daddy never question why his houseguest suddenly packed up his wife and servants and left a week early?”

  Rana lifted her free hand to her mouth to cover her laugh and shook her head. “He did wonder why the fool was walking funny when he left.” She pulled them to a stop and threw her arms around Jane in a fierce hug. “We’ll fix this, Daughter. Even if I fail to discover why Titus is being so pigheaded and Maximilian is siding with him for the first time in his life, I promise that you and I and Olivia will find a way to stop this.” She leaned back. “Can you continue acting interested for nine more days, Carolina?”

  “Do you really think Daddy expects me to after this afternoon’s argument?”

  Her mother looped an arm through Jane’s as she once again headed up the path. “I think you should double your efforts on your three remaining suitors, as if you’re desperately trying to decide before the ball. Trust me, Caro; it will drive Titus and Mac positively crazy.”

  Jane sighed. “And likely send Nicholas into uncontrolled fits of laughter.”

  Rana gave her arm a squeeze. “It was just like old times when you burst into the cottage to defend him,” she said with a warm smile. “If I had a penny for every time you and Nicholas appeared before Titus defending each other, I’d be a rich woman.”

  “What was Mackie thinking to suggest that I marry him? He knows how we feel about each other. And I thought Mac liked Nicholas, so why would he want to saddle him with a brat like me?”

  “Nicholas saddled himself with you the day you were born. The moment his mama set you in his arms in order to concentrate on saving my life, Nicholas fell in love with you.” She squeezed Jane’s arm again. “He was only seven years old, and I believe you became the baby sister he never had. I was told that for the entire three days that it was uncertain if I would survive, the only time Nicholas gave you up was to let the nursemaid feed you. You owe that man a lot, Carolina; the only reason you were allowed to run wild on Atlantis was because Nicholas was always with you.”

  “I know. I really missed his maddening grin these last two years.”

  Rana stopped walking just as they reached the summit, the sun reflecting off the sudden twinkle in her eyes. “Then I guess you should have been more alert these last two years, and you might have seen that grin only a few paces away.”

  “Nikki followed me?” Jane covered her face with her hands when her mother nodded. “Oh, Mama, he saw the jerks I dated. And kissed! He saw me kissing them!”

  Rana sat down on a boulder, pulling Jane down beside her. “He wasn’t always following you, baby. Nicholas just regularly popped in to check on you for us.” She nodded toward Jane’s feet. “The ankle bracelet was supposed to be all the protection you needed. Now come,” she said, wrapping her arm around Jane and staring out at Bottomless, “and allow this beautiful autumn view to calm your heart. Tomorrow’s a new day, Daughter; so let us go to that place deep inside ourselves and access our wisdom that we may find a feminine solution to our maddeningly male problem.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Suddenly finding he was walking the trail alone, Alec veered toward a large tree and stepped behind it, resting his hand on his knife as he looked around, trying to decide why the wolves had vanished. He slowed his breathing to listen, and finally heard the clank of a bit as a horse shook its head, the sound coming from his campsite just a hundred yards away. Damn. He didn’t know if the wolves disappearing meant they knew his visitor and didn’t want to be seen with the enemy, or if they’d spread out to guard his back. Alec continued down the trail and walked into camp as if he didn’t have a care in the world, forcing himself not to set his hand on his knife again when he saw brotherly Nick sitting on the top step of the lean-to.

  Not that his knife would have done him much good considering the bastard was polishing a goddamn handgun the size of a small cannon.

  “I assumed I’d have a better chance finding you here around supper time,” his uninvited guest said when Alec stopped in front of him, “since you seem to be rather busy at night.” He slid the gun in a holster inside his jacket, stuffed the cloth in his pocket as he stood up and walked down the steps, and held out his hand. “Nicholas.” He grinned. “A good friend of Jane Smith.”

  “Nicholas what?” Alec asked, taking his offered hand.

  “Just Nicholas will do,” he said, ending the handshake. He walked over to the fire pit, pulled a metal lighter from his pocket, then crouched down and lit the campfire he’d apparently prepared while waiting. “There’s a sack of food from your uncle’s camp cook on my saddle,” he said, gesturing toward his horse before setting a couple of logs on the crackling fire. “Jeanine also sent some beer, but I think you might prefer what’s in my saddlebag instead.” He twisted while staying crouched and gestured for Alec to go look. “Your ancestor, Niall MacKeage, brought it from eleventh-century Scotland, but Rana thought you might appreciate it more than Titus would.”

  Alec walked to the horse and took the sack off the saddle horn, then unbuckled the saddlebag, reached inside, and pulled out a bottle of ancient liquid gold. He walked to the lean-to and climbed the stairs, set down the food and Scotch, and shrugged off his backpack.

  “This is also for you,” Nicholas said, reaching inside his jacket on the opposite side of his gun as he walked to the bottom step. His hand reemerged holding a long envelope, which he held out. “It’s from Lina.” He grinned again. “I saw her sneak up to the building site and go inside the privy they’re supposed to deliver tomorrow, and figured she’d found an ingenious way to get a note to you. But it wasn’t until I saw her return to the privy an hour later carrying another envelope that I decided to see what she was up to.” His grin turned derisive. “This one’s thinner than the first one she took back. The seal’s not broken,” he said, turning away when Alec took the envelope. “So I don’t know if it’s a love letter, a scathing lecture, or a heartfelt plea for you to stay away from Nova Mare. But knowing Lina, it’s probably all three,” he added over his shoulder as he walked past the fire before stopping and folding his arms over his chest. “Show yourself, Kitalanta,” he said toward the forest. “And you others as well.”

  The wolves stepped into the clearing from six different directions, their heads lowered and their tails tucked against their hind legs. No, only five wolves appeared, causing Alec to stiffen and scan the woods for the sixth one. He didn’t think it had gone to the fiord, as they always fed in pairs. So where in hell was it?

  Nicholas crouched to his heels as Kit stopped in front of him about ten paces away. “Titus recognizes your valor, my friend,” he said, extending a hand, “and admires your loyalty to Carolina. Come, orca. It would appear you’ve earned your badge of courage.” He ruffled Kit’s fur when the
wolf finally closed the distance between them. “What’s this?” he asked, fingering the braid of Jane’s hair. He gave a quick glance at Alec before looking back at Kit, and chuckled. “I suppose every warrior needs a token to remind him why he’s in the fight. But know there’ll be hell to pay if Leviathan sees that. As for you others,” he said, standing up and looking around, “you would do well to emulate Kitalanta.” That said, Nicholas shrugged off his jacket as he walked back to the fire and sat down, the wolves preferring to bed down where they were.

  Okay; apparently the big bastard was settling in for a visit. Alec looked at the thin envelope in his hand, blew out a sigh, and stuffed it in his hind pocket as he went to the rear wall of the lean-to. He grabbed two tin mugs, snatched up the bottle of Scotch as he headed down the steps—again scanning the woods for the sixth wolf—and sat down an arm’s reach away from Jane Smith’s heavily armed good friend. Christ, he hoped the missing wolf didn’t start something, because he really didn’t see it ending well.

  “Besides being an errand boy,” Nicholas said as Alec poured Scotch into each mug, “I’ve come to ask your advice about a decision I’m trying to make.” He took the mug Alec handed him, took a long swig, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Son of a bitch, that’s smooth.” He looked over and grinned again. “I can see why Lina likes you, MacKeage, as I’m starting to like you myself. Hell,” he said with a chuckle, “if she considers me a man of few words, she must find you truly refreshing.”

  Alec took a drink—damn, his ancestors knew something about Scotch—and refilled his and Nicholas’s mugs. “What is it you’re trying to decide?”

  Nicholas stared into the crackling fire. “It appears I’ll be out of a job in nine days, and I’m trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life.” He looked over at Alec, his ocean-blue eyes direct despite his negligent shrug. “Once Lina chooses on the night of the ball, she’ll no longer be my…worry.”