by Raye Morgan
“But…”
“Don’t you understand, Pellea? I want them thrown off-center. I want them to wonder what my next move might be. I want them to doubt themselves.” The spirit of the royal warrior was back in his eyes. “Because when I come back, I’m going to take this country away from them.”
He sounded sure of himself, but in truth, here in the middle of the night, he was filled with misgivings and doubts. Would he really be able to restore the monarchy? Would he get his family back into the position they’d lost twenty-five years before? Night whispers attacked his confidence and he had to fight them back.
Because he had to succeed. And he would, damn it, or die trying. No doubts could be allowed. His family belonged here and they would be back. This was what his whole life had been aimed at.
It was time to go. Actually, it was way past time to go, but he had run up against the wall by now. He had to follow the rules of logic and get out of here before someone showed up at Pellea’s gate. It was just a matter of time.
But there was something else. He had made a decision. He was going to show Pellea the tunnel. There was no other option. If he couldn’t take her with him, he had to give her some way to escape if things got too bad.
He was well aware of what he was doing—acting like a fool under the spell of a woman. If he were watching a friend in the same circumstances, he would be yelling, “Stop!” right now. Every bit of common sense argued against it. You just didn’t risk your most important advantages like that.
After all, there were so many imponderables. Could he trust her? He was sure he could, and yet, how many men had said that and come out the loser in the end? Could he really take a woman who claimed she was going to marry into the family of the enemy and expect her to keep his confidences? Was he crazy to do this? He knew he was risking everything by placing a bet on her integrity and her fidelity—a bet that could be lost so easily. How many men had been destroyed putting too much trust in love?
For some reason the lyrics to “Blues in the Night” came drifting into his head. But who took their advice from old songs, anyway?
He had to trust her, because he had to protect her. There was nothing else he could do.
“Pellea,” he said, taking her into his arms. “I’m going.”
“Oh, thank God!” She held his face in her hands and looked at him with all the love she possessed. “I won’t rest easy until you get to Italy.”
He kissed her softly. “But I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
He was looking very serious. “I want you to keep a secret.”
She smiled. “Another one?”
He touched her face and winced, as though she was almost too beautiful to bear. “I’m going to show you how I get into the castle.”
Her face lost its humor and went totally still. She understood right away how drastic this was for him. He’d refused even to hint at this to her all along. Now he was going to show her the one ace in the hole he had—the chink in the castle’s armor. Her heart began to beat a bit faster. She knew very well that this was a heavy responsibility.
“All right,” she said quietly. “And Monte, please don’t worry. I will never, ever show this to anyone.”
He looked at her and loved her, loved her noble face, loved her noble intentions. He knew she meant that with all her heart and soul, but he also knew that circumstances could change. Stranger things had happened. Still, he had to do it. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t leave behind some sort of escape route for her.
He frowned, thinking of what he was doing. It wouldn’t be enough to show her where it was. The tunnel was old and dark and scary. He remembered when he’d first tried to negotiate it a few weeks before. He’d always known about it—it was the way he and his brothers had escaped on that terrible night all those years ago. And it had been immediately obvious no one had used it since. That was the benefit of having strangers take over your castle. If they made themselves hateful enough, no one would tell them the castle secrets.
When he’d come through, in order to pass he’d had to cut aside huge roots which had grown in through cracks. For someone like Pellea, it might be almost impassable. It would be better if she came partway with him so that she would see what it was like and wouldn’t be intimidated by the unknown.
“Bring a flashlight,” he told her. “You’re going to need it.”
She followed him. He took her behind the fountain, behind the clump of ancient shrubs that seemed to grow right out of the rocks. He moved some smaller stones, then pushed aside a boulder that was actually made of pumice and was much lighter than it looked. And there, just underfoot, was a set of crumbling steps and a dank, dark tunnel that spiraled down.
“Here it is,” he told her. “Think you can manage it?”
She looked down. It would be full of spiders and insects and slimy moss and things that would make her scream if she saw them. But she swallowed hard and nodded.
“Of course,” she said, trying hard to sound nonchalant. “Let’s go.”
He showed her how to fill in the opening behind her, and then they started off. And it was just as unpleasant a journey as she’d suspected it would be. In twenty-five years, lots of steps had crumbled and roots had torn apart some walls. The natural breakdown of age was continuing apace and wouldn’t be reversed until someone began maintaining the passageway. Even with a flashlight, the trip was dark and foreboding and she was glad she had Monte with her.
“Just ahead there is a small window,” he told her. “We’ll stop there and you can go back.”
“All right,” she said, shuddering to think what it was going to be like when she was alone.
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“Nauseated,” she said before she thought. “But I’m always sick in the morning lately.”
As soon as the words were past her lips she regretted them. How was it that she could feel so free and open to saying anything that came into her head when she was with him? And then she ended up saying too much. She glanced at him, wondering if he’d noticed.
He gave no sign of it. He helped her down the last set of stairs and there was the thin slit of a window, just beginning to show the dawn coming out over the ocean. They stopped and sat to rest. He pulled her close, tightening his arm around her and kissing her cheek.
She turned her face to accept his lips and he gave her more. Startled, she found in the heat of his mouth a quick arousal, calling up a passionate response from her that would have shocked her if she hadn’t already admitted to herself that this man was all she ever wanted, body and soul. She drew back, breathless, heart racing and he groaned as she turned away.
“Pellea, you can’t marry Leonardo. I don’t care how much your father wants you to. It won’t end up the way he hopes anyway. Nothing like that ever does. You can’t sell your soul for security. It doesn’t work.”
“Monte, you don’t really know everything. And you can’t orchestrate things from afar. I’ve got to deal with the hand I’ve been dealt. You won’t be here and you won’t figure in. That’s just the way it has to be.”
“You don’t understand. This is different. I’m making you a promise.” He hesitated, steeling himself for what he had to do. “I’m going to move up operations. We’ll invade by midsummer. I’ll come and get you.” He brushed the loose curls back from her face and looked at her with loving intensity. Here in the gloom, she was like a shining beacon in the dark.
“Leonardo’s brand of protection won’t do you any good by then. I’ll be the one your father will have to look to.”
His words struck fear into her heart. She turned, imploring him.
“No, Monte. You can’t do that. You’ll put yourself and all your men in danger if you try to come before your forces are ready. You can’t risk everything just for me.” She reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands. “I can’t let you do that.”
He gazed back steadily. “We’ll
have right and emotion on our side. We’ll win anyway.”
“Monte, don’t be crazy. You know life doesn’t work like that. Just being right, or good, or the nicest, doesn’t win you a war. You need training and equipment and the manpower and…”
He was laughing at her and she stopped, nonplussed. “What is it?”
“You sound as though you’ve taken an army into the field yourself,” he told her. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were a natural-born queen.”
She flushed, not sure whether he was making fun of her. “I only know I want you safe,” she said, her voice trembling a bit.
He took her into his arms. “I’ll be safe. You’re the one who needs protecting. You’re the one ready to put your trust in the Granvillis.”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that,” she said, but he wasn’t listening.
He gazed at her, his blue eyes troubled. “I’ll do anything I have to do to keep you from harm.”
“You can’t do it. You can’t invade until you’re ready.”
“We’ll get ready.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “Just don’t ruin everything by marrying Leonardo.”
She turned away. Another wave of nausea was turning her breathless.
“What is it?” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m…I’m just a little sick.”
He sat back a moment, watching her. “Have you been having that a lot lately?”
She couldn’t deny it. She looked up and tried to make a joke out of it. “Yes. I imagine the situation in the world brings on nausea in most sane people at least once a day.”
He frowned. “Possibly.” A few bits of scattered elements came together and formed a thought. He remembered the way she seemed to want to protect her belly. The book at her bedside. The sudden aversion to alcohol. “Or maybe you’re pregnant.”
She went very still.
“Are you, Pellea? Are you pregnant?”
She paled, then tried to answer, but no words came out of her mouth.
“You are.”
Suddenly the entire picture cleared for him. Of course. That explained everything—the reluctance to recreate the love they’d shared, the hurry to get him out of her hair, the rush to marry Leonardo. But something else was also clear. If she was pregnant, he had no doubt at all that the baby was his.
What the hell!
“You’re pregnant with my baby and you weren’t going to tell me about it?”
Outrage filled his voice and generated from his body. He shook his head, unable to understand how she could have done this. “And you plan to marry Leonardo?” he added in disbelief.
That rocked him back on his heels. He couldn’t accept these things. They made no sense.
“Pellea…” He shook his head, unable to find the words to express how devastated he was…and angry.
She turned on him defensively. “I have to marry someone,” she said crisply. “And you aren’t going to marry me, are you?”
She held her breath, waiting for his response to that one, hoping beyond all logic.
He stared at her, rage mixing with confusion. He couldn’t marry her. Could he? But if she was carrying his child… This was something new, something he hadn’t even considered. Did it change everything? Or was everything already set in stone and unchangeable?
He turned away, staring out at the ocean through the tiny window in the wall. She waited and watched the emotions crossing in his face and knew he wrestled with his feelings for her, his brand-new feelings for his child, and his role as the crown prince and a warrior king. He was torn, unprepared for such big questions all at once. She had to give him a bit of space. But she’d hoped for more. It wasn’t like him to be so indecisive.
And, as he didn’t seem to be able to find words that would heal things between them, her heart began to sink. What was the use of him telling her that they had to be together if he wasn’t prepared to take the steps that might lead to something real? If he would never even consider making her his wife?
He had a lot of pride as the royal heir to Ambria. Well, she had a bit of pride herself. And she wasn’t going anywhere without a promise of official status. If she wasn’t good enough to marry, she would find another way to raise her child.
He turned back, eyes hard and cold as ice. “You have to come with me,” he said flatly.
She was already shaking her head. “You know I can’t go with you while my father lives.”
Frustration filled his face and he turned away again, swearing softly. “I know,” he said at last, his hands balled into fists. “And I can’t ask you to abandon him.”
“Never.”
“But, Pellea, you have to listen…”
Whatever he was about to say was lost to history. An alarm went off like a bomb, echoing against the walls of the castle, shaking it to its foundations. They turned, reaching for each other, and then clinging together as the walls seemed to shake.
He looked questioningly at her. “What is it?” he asked her roughly.
“The castle alarm,” she said. “Something must have happened. I haven’t heard an alarm like this since…since Leonardo’s mother died.”
He stepped back, listening. “I thought for a moment it was an earthquake,” he muttered, frowning. “Do you think…?”
“I don’t know,” she said, answering his unspoken question.
The alarm continued to sound. Pellea put her hands over her ears.
And just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“I’m going back,” she said.
He nodded. He’d known she would. He had never wanted anything more strongly than he wanted her to come with him and yet he knew she couldn’t do it. He was sunk in misery such as he’d never known before—misery in his own inability to control things. Misery in leaving behind all that he loved. And even the concept of a new baby that he would take some time to deal with.
“One more thing,” he noted quickly. “Come here to the window.” He waited while she positioned herself to look out. “Listen to me carefully. When you escape, wait until you get out into the sunlight, then look out across that wide, mowed field and you will see a small cottage that looks like something left over from a fairy tale. Go directly to it, ask for Jacob. I’ll warn him that you may be coming. He will take you to the boat that will transfer you to the continent.”
“If I escape,” she amended softly, feeling hopeless.
He grasped her by the shoulders. “You will. One way or another, you will. And when you do, you’ll come to me. Do you swear it?”
She nodded, eyes filling with tears.
“Say the words,” he ordered.
“I swear I’ll come to you,” she said, looking up through her tears.
He stared into her eyes for a long moment, then kissed her.
“Goodbye,” she said, pulling away and starting up the steps. “Good luck.” She looked back and gave him a watery smile. “Until Ambria is free,” she said, throwing him a kiss.
“Until Ambria is free,” he saluted back. “I love you, Pellea,” he called after her as she disappeared up the stairs. “And I love our baby,” he whispered, but only to himself.
He would be back. He would come to claim what was his, in every way, or die trying. Cursing, he began to race down the stairs.
CHAPTER TEN
PELLEA GOT BACK without anyone knowing that she’d been gone and she covered up the escape tunnel exactly as Monte had in the past. She didn’t find out what the alarm had been about until Kimmee came by with her breakfast.
“I guess the old General is really sick,” she said, slightly in awe. “Can you believe it? I thought that man would be immortal. Anyway, someone went in to give him his morning coffee and thought he was dead. So they set off the alarm. Leonardo is furious.”
“But he’s not really dead.”
“Not yet. But they say he’s not far from it.”
Despite everything, Pe
llea was upset. “How sad to come all this way home after all this time without really having a chance to see anyone he cares for,” she said.
“Maybe,” Kimmee said. “Or maybe,” she whispered, leaning close, “the meanness finally caught up with him.”
“Don’t speak that way of the sick,” Pellea said automatically, but inside, she agreed.
Still, she had a hard time dwelling on the sad condition of the man who had been Ambria’s leader for all her life. Mostly, she was thinking about Monte and his pledge to invade very soon, and she was sick at heart. She knew what danger he would be putting himself and his men in if he invaded now. If he did this just because of her and he was hurt—if anyone was hurt—she would never forgive herself.
Leonardo came by before noon. She went to meet him at the gate with her heart in her throat, wondering what he knew and what he was going to suspect. He looked like a man seriously hung-over and rather distracted by his current situation, but other than that, he seemed calm enough.
“Hello, my dear,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about my father.”
“Yes. Leonardo, I’m so sorry.”
“Of course, but it’s not unexpected. He’s been quite ill, you know. A lot worse than we’d told the people. It’s a natural decline, I suppose. But for that moron to start the alarm as though he were dead!” He shook his head. “I’ve dealt with him.” He slapped his gloves against his pant leg and looked at her sideways. “That was quite a night we had, wasn’t it? I’m afraid we never did get around to announcing our engagement, did we?”
She realized he was asking her, as though he wasn’t quite sure what had happened the night before. What on earth would she tell him? Nothing. That was by far the wisest course.
“No, we didn’t,” she said simply.
He studied her face. “Does that mean that the wedding is off?” he asked musingly.
She hesitated, not really sure what he wanted from her. “What do you think?” she asked him.
He made a face. “I think there was someone at the ball who you would rather marry,” he said bluntly.
