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Published by The Hartwood Publishing Group, LLC,
Hartwood Publishing, Phoenix, Arizona
www.hartwoodpublishing.com
The Ambassador’s Daughter
Copyright © 2014 by Theodora Lane
Digital Release: March 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62916-038-2
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The Ambassador’s Daughter by Theodora Lane
Jane Austin meets 24, with a female Jack Bauer. She's a fish out of water, but she knows how to kill and she's not afraid to do it.
Brett Butler's always been a leader, as a former major in the Earth Marines she's trained for it, but when she arrives on New Commonwealth as her father, the ambassador, personal assistant, she's going to have to at least try to fit in.
Especially if she wants the handsome Lord Stephen Brandon.
A highly placed member of the aristocracy, Stephen's every inch a soldier, from his spit-shined boots to the sword he wears on his hip. Dedicated to his job in intelligence, born to be a duke one day, the woman he marries must be gracious, well-versed in etiquette, and fit in with his peers.
Everything Brett isn't.
But that won't stop her, because even though they've only met, his touch makes her feel something she's never felt before—like a woman, with all the wants and needs she's kept hidden.
For Stephen, he's never met a woman like Brett, one that fires a lust and desire deep inside him, and before long, he decides she must be his wife. Nothing less will do.
Or get in his way. Including his mother.
But neither of them counted on their parents butting in and falling in love, on his grandfather's schemes to get Stephen and Brett together, or on Brett and the old duke being caught up in a life and death fight over a secret weapon of mass destruction that could destroy the universe they've all fought to preserve.
Dedication
To my editors. Without them…it'd be all commas and semicolons.
Chapter One
“Watch him! He’s breaking loose!”
The stallion bolted, his eyes rolling and hoofs clattering down the metal cargo tube of the space freighter.
Brett dashed in front of him, her arms held out.
“Black! Whoa!”
The stallion skidded to a stop in front of her. Tossing his ebony mane with a shake of his head, he stepped forward to rub his face against her chest, blowing loudly through flared nostrils. Brett scratched behind his ears and held her hand out flat, offering him a small treat. His lips, soft as velvet, nibbled it out of her hand, and then he whinnied at her, as if to say, “What have you gotten me into now?”
“I know, boy. Neither of us belongs here. But we’ll have to make do.”
The handler approached her, a look of disapproval on his face. She’d seen the look too many times on this trip, and she was starting to get irritated.
“Miss Butler, let me have him. Ladies here shouldn’t do such,” he reprimanded her. She merely cocked an eyebrow at him.
Seemed the men of New Commonwealth disapproved of much about her, as if she were an affront to their genteel senses. Well, so be it. She could never be mistaken for one of their delicate, frilly women. Not even if you squinted.
“Never seen his like before, all those spots on his rump. And he’s a right big brute, he is.” He shook his head.
Was he shaking his head at her, or Black? Probably both of them. She gathered Black’s leather leads, making loops of the leather until only two feet of play was left.
“Yes, but he’s my big brute. And I’m quite sure I do many things the ladies here don’t.” She handed him the leads. “Keep them short.” Her turn to scowl at him. “I’ll follow to the planetary shuttle and make sure he’s bedded down. Properly.”
“Yes, milady.” The man nodded and started off, shoulders hunched, leading the large horse down the concourse to the waiting shuttle on the other side of the spaceport hovering above the planet.
Would she ever get used to “milady,” as everyone here addressed her? She wasn’t anyone’s “lady.” She preferred Major.
Had she made a mistake coming here? Perhaps she should have told her father to find someone else for this tour of duty. But she knew she’d never desert her post. She was a Butler, after all. Butlers never deserted or surrendered. It's been drummed into her head from the age of three.
Passersby, going to and from the big space freighters and smaller planetary shuttles, stared at their passing parade. Behind her, a laborer pushed a hover cart holding the trunk filled with Black’s tack.
The last thing these people ever expected to see marching through the spaceport was a large black horse. She tried to keep a smile from showing, but she relished the thought of all those shocked people. It was wicked of her, but she couldn’t help herself.
The spaceport bustled with activity. They weaved in and out of smaller groups of staring people. Brett would have preferred doing the transfer to the shuttle when there wasn’t so much commotion for Black’s sake, but she couldn’t help it. It wasn’t her decision when the deep space freighter landed.
From watching the vids over the two months spent on this trip from Earth, she learned the women on this planet were very different from the strong, independent, workingwomen who'd raised her back on Old Earth. From their long gowns to what seemed to be their total lack of talent for anything except decorating their houses or the arms of their lordly husbands, these New Commonwealth women were a soft, fragile lot.
Brett watched as the men loaded Black Gold onto the shuttle. He tried to bite his handler, but the man avoided it by jumping backward. Two months in a narrow stall on a freighter with partial gravity made the stallion foul-tempered. Well, more foul-tempered than usual.
“He’s just in a state about being cooped up for months,” she explained, thinking she was just about ready to bite too.
The man glared at her and then the horse. “Animals don’t belong in space,” he said with a huff
“People are animals,” Brett replied. “Besides, how would we get livestock to all the planets?”
As she stood next to Black, she ran her hands over his withers, down his shoulders to his legs. Even though Brett walked him daily on the freight decks, it wasn’t the same as her riding him. He showed signs of lack of exercise, and his coat didn’t have its same shine, or his mane and tail the same luster and texture.
“We’ll be at our new home soon, boy,” she reassured the big horse. He nickered at her.
The sooner she could settle him into the stables at New London’s city park, the better. His health would improve, and he’d be back to his old self. Feisty and smart, he was a one-woman horse. He’d belonged to Brett from the first moments after he was foaled, and she’d held him in her arms on their ranch in Nuevo Texas back on Earth.
Finding a one-woman man proved ju
st a little harder.
•●•
Brett settled into her chair on board the shuttle. In a few short hours, they’d be at their new home. Her father arrived on planet a month earlier to take up his new position as ambassador from Earth to New Commonwealth. Soon she’d be at his side handling her duties.
The rising hum of the shuttle’s engines and the slight jar as the docking clamps released told her they were off. For a moment, they hung in free space, floating. Her stomach dropped, but she only smiled. She loved this part, the docking and undocking. After the excitement of her years in the United Space Marines, training in the dropships, where the craft screamed through the planet’s outer atmosphere, Brett found the rest of space travel predictable and boring.
“Another year, another planet,” she muttered. This would be her third rotation serving with her father in her late mother’s place.
A man in a uniform pushing a cart of refreshments stopped next to her. “Milady, may I offer you a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you.” She eyed the cart’s selection of tea, nutritional drinks, and coffee.
“I’d kill for a cold beer.” The steward gasped, stared at her, then cleared his throat.
“Yes, milady.” He reached into the cart and pulled out a bottle, opened it, and handed it to her with a small napkin.
She didn’t wait for him to place the small glass in front of her, but put the bottle to her lips and drank. The cold liquid slid down her throat, and she savored the flavor.
He moved on with only an odd look back at her.
Again, she’d shocked another man. Her father’s hopes of her finding a husband sank lower than ever. Poor man. She hated disappointing him, always, even as a child.
Brett sighed, took another sip of the beer, and hoped James, her father’s longtime batman, stocked the refrigerators at the new house. Her father’s scotch, several cases of her favorite beer, and a nice assortment of their family’s wine label was sent months ago with him.
Brett snorted as she looked down at the dress she wore. If her sergeant could see her now, he’d laugh so hard he’d spit. She could just hear him, “Butler, what the hell have you gotten into now?”
Social Secretary to the Ambassador from Earth. Long dresses for day wear. Hosting parties for the elite. And here on New Commonwealth, rubbing elbows with the aristocracy. Like something from an old storybook. Kings and queens. Lords and ladies.
The men and women of her old marine outfit would ride her unmercifully. She smiled at the thought of their jokes. She missed them. Good soldiers, all of them.
But she didn’t miss her old life. It was her secret, at least from her father.
Here on New Commonwealth, things were going to have to be very different, and perhaps fitting in on this planet would be Brett’s most challenging job yet.
Women here were treated like delicate flowers, to be protected, nurtured, and kept in their hothouses. Did they never let their branches spread beyond their containers or everyone’s expectations? She sighed and rested her chin in her hand. I can adapt. I can be a plant.
But can I be a flower?
She struggled to think of herself as a flower. Well, maybe a cactus blossom, like the ones which bloomed each spring on their ranch in Nuevo Texas. All you needed to do was get past the thorns and tough skin. She laughed at the image as she keyed in the code on the vid monitor for the residence, and James appeared on the screen.
“Welcome, Miss Butler.” He smiled at her, and she gave him a salute.
“I’m just a few hours out, James. Let the general know.”
“Yes, miss.” He nodded. “Will you need a car?”
“No, I’m riding with the shipping truck to get Black settled at the stables. Once I’m done there, I’ll call for the car.”
“Very well.” His face gave nothing away. “How is the big black monster?” One brow rose.
“The usual.”
“Too bad. I’d hoped for everyone’s sake he’d mellowed.”
“No chance, James.” She grinned. “It’ll be good to see you again. And Dad.”
“Indeed. Call when you need the car.”
“I will. Butler out.”
The transmission cut off, and the screen went dark.
She played with the folds of her dress, straightening them. The light wool material swirling around her ankles bothered her. It tickled her legs, and the occasional rush of air blowing against the soft skin of her thighs and sending little shocks over her body. She felt totally unsupported. She was much more comfortable in trousers and boots. She even walked differently in the dresses. It was hard to stride confidently and with purpose while four yards of pink taffeta swirled around your ankles, threatening to trip you.
The shock of the shuttle hitting the planet’s atmosphere jarred her as it used its rear heat shield for reentry. The belt around her shoulder jerked tighter, forcing her back against her seat. The shuttle shook and vibrated against the outer reaches of the atmosphere.
She let the rush fill her, but she missed the whoops of her men and women as they rejoiced in the thrill. Here in the shuttle, people gripped their seats, gasped, and looked as if they were going to throw up.
Civilians.
She worried about Black down in the hold, and wished she could have been there with him, but the rules didn’t allow it. She should have gone down there anyway, damn the rules. Her fingers gripped the armrest, keeping her in her seat, instead of bolting for the hatch to see to Black.
Then the resistance was gone, and they were through. She exhaled, sad the small memory of her previous life was over. The shuttle rotated to point its nose at the planet-side port just outside of New London, capitol city of New Commonwealth.
Less than an hour until they landed.
She gazed out the window at the planet below as they circled lower. She could clearly see blue oceans, green land, a few snow-crested mountains. How very much like home. Lush forests, fertile fields, flat plains. No deserts, though. The climate was temperate, like a perpetual spring with a gentle winter in between.
Great weather to ride in. Black will like it.
This wasn’t where she’d pictured herself two years ago, after her mother’s death. She’d pictured herself out of the military and running the family ranch, and for once in her life doing what she wanted to do, not what everyone else expected her to do.
One out of two wasn’t bad. She’d left the military, but never made it back to the ranch, at least not to stay. All those hopes and dreams vanished with her mother’s sudden death on a distant planet.
Now as the ambassador’s social secretary, it was her job to understand this planet. She’d always been good at what she did, no matter what duty called her to do or be. Whether she liked it or not.
As the only child of Ambassador Jonathan Butler, formerly General Butler of the United Space Marines and decorated hero of the Jihad Space Wars, it'd been expected she would follow in his boot steps. And she done it her entire life.
No one told her she’d have to take her mother’s place at her father’s side.
His boots were easy to fill, and she’d risen rapidly through the ranks of the military police.
It was the size seven high heels of her mother, Elaine Wallace Butler, Brett knew she could never fill.
•●•
Ambassador Jonathan Butler entered the library and watched his daughter fondly. Beautiful, smart, headstrong, with her mother’s wonderfully dry sense of humor. However, now at twenty-eight, with her recent refusal of the marriage proposal by a general on Alpha V, he wondered if he would ever bounce a grandchild on his knee.
He couldn’t blame her. It'd been his fault. She’d been everything he could have wished for, even if she'd been a son. Brett realized as a young child he'd wanted a son, not a frilly girl, so she spent her life doing the best imitation of a son she could just to please him.
How could he have ever been so stupid? He wanted to apologize to her, but how could h
e give her back her past, her life? She’d grown up strong and independent, successful in her military career and as his secretary.
She’d given up her career to help him. Guilt filled him as he hoped she’d find love and family now her life changed, and he wondered if she thought it'd been for the better or the worse.
“Are the gifts ready, Brett?” They would make their formal introductions to the Regent and his queen tonight at a ball in honor of the new ambassadors to the planet of New Commonwealth. Nothing different from what they'd done before on two other planets. One thing he loved and admired about his daughter was she did her job well, no matter if it was leading her troops or arranging his social calendar and getting him ready for it.
•●•
Brett turned at her father’s deep voice.
“Yes, General, they’re all ready. I’ll have James put them in the car, and we can go.”
Brett used his old rank not as a formality, but as a term of endearment. He’d never put any distance between them. In fact, she’d struggled to keep him out of her personal life. She was out of the military now and he’d taken it as a personal mission to find her a husband.
She doubted it would be here on New Commonwealth. Especially tonight.
He held his ambassador’s sash in his hands and then tried to put it on, struggling with it but refusing to ask for help. He could be so pig-headed sometimes. She loved him deeply.
“Here, let me get it for you.” She raised the red length of velvet clasped with the enameled blue and white symbol of Earth over his head and settled it on his broad shoulders.
In his early fifties, he was still a handsome man. His rugged face creased with laugh lines at the corners of his blue eyes, and his dark hair, though shot through with gray, was still thick and full. A lifetime of physical conditioning kept his military physique, and now the therapy on his damaged shoulder continued to hone his body.
If anyone needed to get married, it was him, not her. Someone needed to fill the deep hole in his heart the death of her mother created.
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