‘Yes, but he’s okay.’ He’d twisted and seen as they’d left the clearing. ‘The little boy with the collie pup was picking him up.’
‘He was alright?’
‘Yes,’ he said, although he couldn’t be sure.
‘He hates us,’ Rose said in a small voice, and all the bravado had gone. All of a sudden she looked small and vulnerable, and…afraid? No, not afraid. Just sad. ‘They both do. Julianna’s my sister, and they both do.’
‘I’m not sure that Julianna does. Jacques, yes, for what you represent.’
‘Which is?’
‘A threat to his future.’
‘You think we should go home now?’
He smiled but it was a tiny smile. What had they got themselves into?
There was no friendly driver here. Their driver was in the same uniform as Jacques, albeit with less bars on his sleeve. He looked grim and businesslike, and there was no way they could talk to him through the sealed glass-partition.
The car was speeding northward into the city. Nick glanced behind them to see a stream of official cars. Black ones. There were outriders on motorcycles.
‘Yorkshire’s looking good,’ he confessed, but at that Rose firmed and looked behind them and out at the outriders, and she set her face.
‘No. No, it doesn’t.’
‘Hell, how bad was it?’
‘You ever delivered a calf in a sleet storm in Yorkshire in February?’
‘Um…no.’
‘Dungeons are okay,’ she said. She took a deep breath. ‘They’re a sight better than being a breeding mare.’
‘A breeding mare?’
‘Never mind,’ she said flatly. ‘That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.’
‘My foster mother used to say that about toothache,’ he muttered. ‘And I’m dead scared that what’s in front of us isn’t toothache.’
‘Hey, you’re not supposed to scare me,’ she said, still subdued but trying to sound indignant. ‘You’re the diplomat. Talk your way out of this.’
‘I’m not exactly sure that’s possible,’ he said. ‘I can’t talk us out of this Rolls. Let’s see where they put us next before we test my talking powers.’
She subsided back against the leather cushions. Her behavior back at the river had been brilliant, he thought. Yes, he was supposed to be the diplomat, but her diplomacy—and sheer effrontery in staring her sister and brother-in-law down—had been amazing.
But she was paying for it now. Reaction was starting to set in. Her face had paled, and when he glanced at her hands he saw she was clenching them together to stop them shaking.
He swore and moved across and tugged her against him.
She froze. ‘We…We’re not play-acting now,’ she muttered.
‘You mean I don’t have to act like your husband? No,’ he said grimly. ‘But I do have to act like we’re two people in trouble and I should have known something like this would happen.’
‘How should you have known?’
‘I’m a big boy. I just gave Erhard the benefit of the doubt—he said there wouldn’t be major problems, and I—’
‘Of course there would be major problems,’ she said, astounded. ‘We’re trying to wrest the throne.’ Then she paused. ‘But you aren’t thinking major problems in the way I’m thinking major problems, are you? Major problems to me are being escorted to the airport and told to leave.’
‘I guess there are more major problems than that.’
‘Like imprisonment.’
‘Yes.’
She didn’t relax, but he felt her body edge closer to his, gaining comfort in the nearness of him. As indeed he was gaining comfort from her.
‘You think someone will look after Hoppy?’ she whispered in a small voice.
‘Of course they will.’
‘Not Jacques’ men.’
‘No, but there were people sympathetic to our cause. I’m sure they’ll take care of him.’
‘But he’s been kicked.’
‘He’ll be okay,’ he muttered, and found his fingers had clenched into fists. To kick this woman’s dog…
And his reaction was for Hoppy too, he thought with a start. How had that happened?
Early in life Nick had learned to be independent. His foster brothers were like him—taught early to be loners. Ruby, their foster mother, had done everything in her power to teach them to love, and maybe they did love her. But to extend that loving…
Nick had never really thought of it until he’d met Rose, and here he was realising that after only hours’ acquaintance he’d go to quite some trouble to make sure Hoppy was safe. For Hoppy’s sake. Just for the way the dumb dog had wriggled his tail in ecstasy when dinner had arrived on the plane. Then, as he’d realised the two plates were meant for Rose and Nick, he’d transformed, crouching low on his haunches, covering his nose with his front paws and then looking mournfully over—a lost orphan dog who no one had fed for the last month but far too polite to ask…Until Griswold had brought him his own steak.
‘You’re smiling,’ Rose said, staring at him, and he brought himself back to the present with a start. They were being hauled off to goodness knew where and he was thinking about a dog.
‘I was thinking that if anyone can survive Hoppy will.’
‘Yeah,’ she agreed, and managed a rueful smile in return. ‘I guess.’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘You think maybe we should worry about us first?’
‘Maybe it’d be sensible.’ She was huddled against him and he welcomed her warmth. He wanted to hug her closer, hold her tight, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take it. He thought back to the words she’d spoken while they’d been dancing. No more relationships.
Like him. So they were fine.
‘So you’re thinking, maybe, firing squad at dawn?’ she asked, in a tone that said she suspected the direction his thoughts were taking and it was time he got back to matters of import. Like firing squads. Right.
But at least he could reassure her there. ‘Rose, they can’t,’ he said, quelling the sudden urge to kiss her lightly—just as a reassurance. But she was withdrawing, moving slightly away from him as she regained control, and so must he.
‘These people aren’t criminals,’ he told her. ‘The people in charge here are out for their own gain, but to bankrupt the country and leave themselves nowhere to run would defeat their purpose. Every member of the Council has homes in places like the south of France, or Capri or, well, places where they can enjoy swanning round with their wealth. If we were to disappear without trace, they’d be international criminals.’
She thought that through. ‘You checked?’
‘I checked,’ he said. ‘And I do work for a huge international law-firm. I’m not too keen on the assassination bit, but opinion was unanimous that we’d be safe. So let’s not worry, and see where they take us.’
‘To the palace?’ she said, trying to sound hopeful.
‘Five-star luxury coming up,’ he said, and grinned. ‘Let’s count on it.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY were indeed going to the palace. The car pulled up in the forecourt of a building that brought Rose’s memories flooding back. The grand palace of the royal family of Alp de Montez.
‘I’d forgotten it was so grand,’ Rose whispered, staring up at gleaming white turrets, battlements, fountains in the forecourt two stories high, marble steps leading to an entrance that took up an area the size of a tennis court. ‘My mother was never given an independent allowance. So here we stayed. I was tutored here, and we hardly left the place. But I’d forgotten…’
It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Could she really be a princess?
And then the car door was hauled open by men in uniform, and the fairy tale evaporated like the bursting of a bubble.
‘Out,’ someone snapped, and a hand grabbed her arm and tugged so hard she fell out onto the gravel.
But she had a protector. In seconds Nick was on
her side of the car, lifting her to her feet, pushing the uniformed thugs aside as if it was he who was in charge and not these people. He set Rose firmly before him, and placed a hand strongly on each shoulder. He smiled at her, a ‘we’re in this together’ smile. And then he faced Jacques. The black car that had drawn up right behind them had disgorged Jacques and his lady. Julianna.
‘If you lay a finger on the Princess Rose, you’ll be facing enquiries from the international community,’ Nick said in a carrying, commanding voice he must have perfected in years of work as a lawyer. Now he deepened his voice, making it louder, as if wanting to carry his words as far as possible.
‘Princess Rose-Anitra and I—Nikolai de Montez—have been escorted to the Imperial Castle of Alp de Montez against our will,’ he said strongly, loudly, to the world at large. ‘The date is…The time is…We’re being held in custody by Jacques and Julianna de Montez. Jacques and Julianna are here right now, in my sight, with direct authority over the people holding us.’
What was he doing?
‘At any moment my mobile phone will be taken from me,’ he continued. ‘I will then stop transmitting, but this message is recorded. Blake, you know what to do.’
There was a moment’s taut stillness—and then a roar of fury from Jacques as he realised what Nick had just done. The man who’d done the talking back at the river and at the airport—Dupeaux—snapped a curt order. Nick was summarily searched and a mobile phone tugged from his shirt pocket.
‘It’s still transmitting,’ Nick said blandly as Dupeaux handed it to Jacques. Again he raised his voice. ‘The phone’s been forcibly removed from me.’
Jacques threw the phone on the ground and ground it with his heel.
‘I’d guess it’s stopped transmitting now,’ Nick said and smiled, tugging Rose tight against him. ‘But it’s been transmitting to my foster brother, Blake, partner in the international law-firm Goodman, Stern and Haddock. I commenced recording back at the river, and what I just said has been transmitted as well. If Blake—and my friends at almost every international embassy in London—don’t hear from us soon they’ll know where to look. Wouldn’t you say?’
He smiled again. But Jacques wasn’t smiling.
‘Take them away,’ he snapped, staring down at the ruined phone as if it was a live scorpion.
But…Julianna?
‘Julianna?’ Rose asked, turning to her sister. Julianna seemed almost stunned with what was happening. Surely the transmission thing hadn’t been necessary. Surely in this day and age…
‘You’re threatening us,’ Julianna whispered, and her face was white with shock.
‘You’re threatening this country,’ Rose said.
‘We’re not. Jacques isn’t.’
‘Ask the hard questions, Julia,’ Rose told her, but she had to yell her last two words over her shoulder. They were being hustled away.
To…a dungeon?
Not quite.
They passed through three thick doors, hustled so fast they hardly had time to be aware of their surroundings. Then they were unceremoniously shoved through a final door, and the clang of metal against stone echoed solidly as they were left alone.
Breathless with shock, Rose stared around her in dismay. By this time she’d almost been expecting to see a torture chamber. She’d never seen such a thing when she was a child, but circumstances now made her fear the worst.
It wasn’t a dungeon. Not even close. It was an austere room, whitewashed with a concrete floor, and she recognised it as one of a number of windowless storerooms under the castle. Two single beds were simply made with white coverlets. A small, wool mat lay between each bed, a solitary concession to comfort. Through a door on the other side of the room she could see simple bathroom facilities.
Austere, but not scary.
‘So much for me wanting to be a princess with tiaras and everything,’ she whispered, and she couldn’t keep her voice steady.
‘Rose…’
‘It’s alright. It’s still better than Yorkshire.’
Nick was right. This was her choice, she told herself. There’d had to be some imperative to give her the moral strength to walk away from Max’s life. Well, this was surely a moral imperative. And a physical imperative. She couldn’t return if she tried.
She touched the door, tentatively, putting pressure on the handle.
‘It’s locked,’ Nick said unnecessarily.
‘I guessed.’
‘Hell, Rose…’
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered.
‘Would you mind very much if I hugged you?’ Nick asked.
‘I…’
‘You see, I don’t much like enclosed places,’ he confessed. ‘I think I’m claustrophobic.’
‘You think?’
‘I need a hug,’ he said, and he turned and took her into his arms.
He was claustrophobic?
She didn’t believe it for a minute. He was just saying it because he thought she needed a hug herself.
He was absolutely right. This was deeply, deeply scary. And where, where, was Hoppy?
She let herself be drawn against him. Again. She was getting almost accustomed to it, she thought as she let him tug her into his arms, and then she forgot to think.
He needed a hug to drive away fear? Well, maybe he was right at that, for a hug from this man did drive away fear. It drove away everything. The strength of him, the sheer arrant maleness of him…This man had a reputation as a womaniser and she was starting to see why. What woman wouldn’t react to Nikolai de Montez exactly as she was reacting now?
He was gorgeous. And she was afraid. For all her bravado, for all his assurances of her long-term safety, she’d seen the look on Jacques’ face, and it had been hatred. She was being held a prisoner.
She’d lost Hoppy.
The last was the worst. She shuddered and he tugged her closer, his fingers raking her hair with gentle reassurance.
‘Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, Rose. This is just a hiccup. We’ll get out of here, you’ll see.’
‘It’s you who’s supposed to be afraid,’ she retorted, but she didn’t pull away. Not when he was raking her hair, just as it should be raked.
‘Someone will take care of Hoppy,’ he said, and she froze against him.
‘I’m a vet,’ she whispered into the muffling anonymity of his shoulder. ‘Hoppy’s had a couple of his lives already. I shouldn’t care so much.’
‘If you didn’t care so much you wouldn’t be you,’ he told her. ‘Did you have to stay with your in-laws for so long?’
She frowned, but she was frowning against the warmth and strength of his shoulder. She had no intention of pulling away just yet.
‘What’s that got to do with the price of fish?’ she managed, and she felt rather than saw him smile.
‘Nothing. But we’re in prison. We might as well fill the time socially.’
‘By cuddling.’
‘And talking,’ he said gravely. ‘Saving me from claustrophobia.’
‘You’re not really claustrophobic.’
‘Let go of me and I’ll start climbing walls. And hollering. You want to see a grown man turn into a caged animal?’
She smiled, but she did manage to pull away. Just a little.
A lock of his hair had fallen over his eyes. He did look anxious. But there was a hint of laughter behind his dark eyes that belied the anxiety he was expressing. This man was dangerous, she told herself. This whole situation was dangerous, but the most dangerous thing of all was that she was locked in a single cell with Nick.
‘You’re on your own,’ she said, broke away and went to sit on the far bunk. She sat with the expectation that there’d be a bit of spring in the bed. There wasn’t. Her backside hit with a solid thud.
‘Ouch!’ Nick said, seeing the way her body reacted.
‘Hard as nails.’ Then as he made to sit beside her she slid along further so the area he’d attempted to sit on was blocked. ‘Bounce on your own bed
.’
‘What fun is that?’
‘There isn’t any fun in what’s happening.’
‘Let’s assume there is,’ he said. He sat down on the other bed, seemingly obedient, and smiled at her with a smile that wasn’t the least bit obedient. ‘Just to stop me being claustrophobic.’
‘Cut it out with the claustrophobia,’ she told him.
‘Telling someone to cut it out isn’t exactly a tried and true therapeutic approach to the problem. Whereas my idea—distraction—is much more likely to work.’
‘So how long do you think they’ll keep us here?’ she demanded, and he shrugged.
‘This is unknown territory, Rose.’ His voice was suddenly serious. ‘But we’ve done all we can. We’ve presented our case to as many people as we could. As long as that message isn’t able to be suppressed, then things will happen. Erhard said this country has been suppressed for so long that it’s a powder keg waiting to blow.’
‘With us in the middle.’
‘No, because we’re an alternative to blowing,’ he said, still serious. ‘The people here don’t want anarchy—you just have to look at how long they’ve put up with dreadful rulers to see that. So with us they don’t have to change the status quo. All they have to do is insist on the application of the law.’
‘So how are they going to do that—ask Julianna and Jacques politely to let us take over?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘You’ve gone into this as blindly as I have.’
‘Maybe not quite,’ he admitted. ‘I did have the reassurance of almost everyone else on the staff. And my brother.’
‘Your brother,’ she said, thinking things through and not able to work it out.’
‘I have six foster-brothers,’ he told her. ‘One of whom is Blake, who’s in the same law firm as I am. He was on the other end of the telephone. “If in doubt, ring and I’ll record”—that’s what he told me as we left. I did. So everything we’ve said since we landed has been recorded.’
‘So Blake will come with a battalion of armed SAS agents.’
‘It won’t come to that.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘No,’ he admitted.
A Royal Marriage of Convenience Page 9
