The Expectant Princess

by Stella Bagwell

  Shrugging a shoulder, he said, “You could be right, Dominique. But it would be impossible to make any sort of connection, unless we can figure out who or what King Michael had been attending to that morning.”

  “That’s true,” she agreed. “And don’t you find it a bit more than strange that Jake Stanbury was traveling this same road? From what he’s saying, he couldn’t have been but a few minutes behind the accident.”

  “Yes. But with only his two-year-old son to corroborate his story, I’m not sure I want to put that much stock in it,” Marcus admitted ruefully.

  “Neither do I,” Dominique agreed. “Edward and Luke’s whereabouts seem fishy to me, too. Edward told Mother they had stopped off somewhere downtown before driving on to the abbey that morning. But I heard Luke say they were still at the airport when the accident occurred.” She shook her head regretfully. “It’s awful to be suspicious of your own relatives, Marcus. Especially when they’ve all continued to be so kind to us.”

  “I’m hoping Edward and his sons are truly here to make amends with the family. And so far I haven’t detected anything to doubt their sincerity. But I’m not going to close my eyes completely where those three men are concerned.”

  The mere notion that her American relatives might have some connection to her father’s accident sent a shiver of icy disbelief down Dominique’s spine.

  Sensing her distress, Marcus put a steadying hand against her back and urged her away from the edge of the cliffs. “Come along. Let’s take a closer look and see what we can find before we start incriminating anyone.”

  Chapter Three

  The side of the cliff Dominique and Marcus were climbing was mostly grassy slopes broken up by rocky crevices and huge jagged boulders. At the point where the car had left the highway, it had traveled for several yards on smooth grass. The deep ruts from the tire tracks were still evident in the soggy turf.

  The two of them noted the tracks were strangely straight, as though the driver hadn’t tried to cut the wheel to the right or the left in an attempt to halt the car’s destructive downward path.

  At the end of the ruts, they reached a ledge of rock. Peering over the edge, they found a vertical drop of at least twenty feet to a bed of more jagged rocks. Black stains marred several of the boulders and from the plowed-up condition of the ground around them, Dominique knew this was where the car had made its final plunge before it crashed and burned.

  The idea of her father and his driver perishing on the wild sea cliff was almost too much for Dominique. With a cry of anguish, she turned to Marcus and buried her face against his chest.

  “Oh, Marcus, I can’t believe my father died down there.”

  His arms came around her and pressed her against the warming comfort of his body. Her slender shoulders were trembling and her fingers clutched at his shirtfront. Never before had Marcus wanted to take away someone’s pain so badly. Dominique was too soft, too precious to ever hurt this much.

  Pressing his cheek against the top of her head, he whispered, “I shouldn’t have brought you here. Seeing this place is only causing you more grief.”

  Dominique wanted to burst into sobs, but she bit them back and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. He believed she was distraught over her father. And she was. Yet she couldn’t confide the whole truth of the matter to him. She couldn’t tell him that losing her father was only a part of the worries weighing down on her shoulders.

  Marcus was a gentleman. A man of honor and integrity. He was going to be shocked and disappointed that she’d not behaved in a manner of her breeding. His opinion of her, which had always meant so much, was going to nose-dive. Once he found out about her condition, he would probably shun her. And she wasn’t quite ready for that. She needed his strength. More than he could ever know.

  Shaking her head, she gulped down a sob. Then with another determined swallow, she leaned her head back far enough to allow her a view of his face. The wind had whipped his black hair across his forehead and ruddied his dark complexion. Compassion and regret clouded his golden-brown eyes, making her feel even more ashamed of herself.

  “No,” she said hoarsely. “Please don’t feel badly about bringing me here. I’m glad you did.”

  He frowned. “Glad? You’re trembling like a leaf, Dominique. You’re upset.”

  “Yes. But I’m also a little relieved.”

  His expression somber, he studied her face for long moments. “Because now you can accept that your father is really dead?”

  “No. Because now I’m more certain than ever that he didn’t perish in this accident.”

  His hand lifted to tenderly stroke her windblown hair. “Dominique,” he began doubtfully, “I know that you—”

  Before he could finish, she twisted around in the circle of his arms and motioned toward the sight farther below them to where the ocean crashed upon the rock-strewn shoreline. Some distance out, several Coast Guard vessels bobbed on the cold, frothy waters of the North Sea.

  “For the past seven days, special divers have been searching for a sign of King Michael’s body or a part of the remains,” she said. “So far they have found nothing. And I don’t believe they will.”

  Marcus was trying to concentrate on her words, but it was a very hard thing to do when the warmth of her slender curves was radiating into his. Her hair carried the scent of wildflowers and tangy sea air and he found himself wanting to put his hands on her shoulders and draw her back against him. He wanted to dip his face into her hair, press his cheek against the regal line of her throat and draw in the womanly smell of her skin.

  Dear Lord, he was losing all common sense, he thought. He wasn’t some sort of Romeo that chased after women years younger than himself. He didn’t chase after women period. In fact, since Liza had divorced him, he’d vowed never to let his head be turned by another one.

  Allowing himself to think such physical thoughts about Dominique scared him like nothing had in ages. It was indecent and improper and downright crazy on his part. He had to get a grip on himself and fast.

  Gruffly, he cleared his throat, then purposely set her aside from him. Staring out at the rough seas, he forced himself to remember his dead king and the allegiance he owed him even now.

  “What makes you think they won’t find King Michael’s body? Do you know something all these investigators don’t?” he asked her.

  She flushed at his question, but refused to relent. “I know it probably sounds absurd to you, Marcus. I’m just a naive young woman who doesn’t know anything about accident scenes or investigations. But King Michael is my father. And I know I would feel something more if he were truly dead. Something inside would tell me to let him go and say goodbye. Besides,” she added more firmly, “just take a look down there where the car finally landed. The whole area is surrounded by high boulders. It would be highly improbable that his body continued to roll down to the sea. The rocks would have prevented such a thing.”

  Trying to keep an open mind about all points of view was one of the reasons Marcus had risen to the lofty position of king’s high counsel. Not that his quick intelligence hadn’t helped. It had. But smartness wasn’t the final thing that had propelled him into the prestigious job. It had been his ability to look at things from all angles that had singled him out and set him above the others serving on the king’s administrative staff.

  Now he reminded himself that Dominique’s theories were not all that different than a political issue to be debated. It would serve him well to consider her opinion before closing his mind.

  “All right,” he said after a lengthy survey of the rock-strewn ledge below them. “I see what you mean. The boulders do more or less create a barrier of sorts. But that still doesn’t explain what happened to King Michael’s body. Unless it was totally cremated by the fire.”

  She came to stand a few inches from his side. He glanced over to see a frown puckering her features.

  “The driver’s body wasn’t totally destroyed by the heat. There�
�s no reason to think Father’s was.”

  He grimaced at the horrid thought. “Except that he would have been sitting in the back. Closer to the petrol tank.”

  She shook her head, then with another idea glanced around for a spot on the ledge where they might climb over. “Do you think there’s any chance we could climb down there for a closer look?”

  He couldn’t believe her tenacity and determination. But because he admired both qualities, he could hardly refuse her.

  Who was he kidding? Marcus wondered. From the moment he’d spotted her in the abbey the morning of the christening, he’d been struck silly by the sight of her. Each time he looked at her, he wanted to lay the world at her feet. He wanted to see happiness radiating from her face and know that he’d been the sole reason for putting it there.

  “It looks like a difficult climb. Are you sure you want to go down there?” he asked.

  “I’m game for it. And we might see something the police overlooked,” she added on a hopeful note.

  Nicholas and the queen would certainly frown if they heard about this, Marcus thought. But he hadn’t come out to this place for their benefit. He was here for Dominique’s peace of mind. And whether that was a good or bad reason, he hadn’t yet decided.

  With a groan of acquiescence, he held up his hands. “I’m glad your sister, Isabel, isn’t here with us. Otherwise she’d be ready to scramble down the side of this cliff with you.”

  “Darn right,” Dominique said with a grin. “She’s no softy. And neither am I.”

  “Okay, Miss Adventuress, let’s see if we can find a trail to follow where we’re least likely to break our necks.”

  More than thirty minutes later they finally reached the actual crash sight. Other than a few scraps of torn metal and exposed earth there was nothing more to see. It was the thing they weren’t seeing that struck Marcus the most.

  Below the curvature of boulders, the path down to the sea was for the most part grassy and more gently sloping than the upper two-thirds of the cliff. If King Michael’s body had been flung from the car and somehow gotten over the boulders, the grass and rain-sodden earth past them would have been disturbed by the fall. Yet there were no signs or marks indicating something or someone had tumbled over the area.

  “See what I mean, Marcus?”

  The simple question brought him out of his deep thoughts. He glanced at her, his expression grim and thoughtful. “Yes, I see what you mean.”

  “What do you think now?”

  Closing his eyes for a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure what to think.” Dropping his hand from his face, he gazed out at the Coast Guard ships. They were using sonar and other sophisticated underwater radar devices, along with the human eye, to search the ocean floor lying along the site of the accident and beyond. Whether those guards believed they had good reason for their search, Marcus couldn’t say. But so far they’d turned up little more than the rusty frames of a few old sunken fishing boats.

  “If Michael wasn’t killed in the accident, then there’s something very sinister going on.”

  She shivered. And not from the gusty wind or the smattering of raindrops that had begun to sting her face.

  “Are you going to say anything to my family about this?”

  He looked over to see her wrapping both arms around her waist in an effort to warm herself. Before he let himself think about what he was doing, he reached out and curled his arm around her shoulders.

  “No. If there is something else going on here besides a simple car accident, it will surface. Right now they would think we both needed to be scheduled for mental therapy. And in my position, it wouldn’t look good if I’d appeared to have lost my wits.”

  He ended his words with a rueful smile and suddenly Dominique laughed and reached for his hand.

  Giving it a squeeze, she said, “Oh, Marcus, the sight of this place struck me hard a few minutes ago. But now I can’t help feeling a ray of hope. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  She suddenly rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. The intimate gesture caught Marcus by total surprise and he stared down at her with a mixture of affection and bewilderment.

  “I don’t know that I deserved that kiss or your thanks. It’s starting to rain and we’ve got a long climb back to the car.”

  Laughing, she glanced up at the slate-gray sky as fat raindrops began to smatter them from all directions.

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “We’d better hurry.”

  She tugged on his hand to urge him to follow after her. Marcus held on to her fingers and wondered why it felt as though she’d also just tugged on his heart.

  Even by quickening their pace, it took the two of them close to an hour to climb back up the slippery cliff, then down the highway to where they’d left the car. Thankfully, by then the rain had slackened. Otherwise, the two of them would have been drenched to the skin. Instead, their clothes were only damp.

  “There’s a jacket behind the passenger seat. Put it on,” he told her as he started the car. “It’ll make you a bit warmer.”

  As he put the little convertible in motion, Dominique rummaged behind her and pulled out a black poplin jacket lined with warm fuzzy flannel. Quickly, she plunged her arms into the sleeves and sighed as the warmth of the garment surrounded her.

  “I wasn’t expecting the weather to turn so nasty. I should have had more forethought and brought a jacket with me,” she told him as she snuggled down into the bucket seat.

  “I’ll get the heater going in a moment. And we’re only thirty minutes away from the castle.” He cast her a brief, pondering glance. “Or would you like to stop off downtown and have something warm to drink first?”

  Dominique’s face was suddenly lit with undisguised pleasure. “Oh, could we? A change of scene from the castle would be lovely. Do you have time?”

  Even though there wasn’t anything on his desk that needed urgent attention, her question caused him a pang of guilt. It was Liza he was thinking of now and how she’d continually accused him of not taking enough time out of his busy work schedule to spend with her.

  To a certain point, she’d been right. Marcus had always put his job first. After all, he’d given his allegiance to serve the king long before he’d married Liza. But she’d expected him to give her the same sort of loyalty and devotion. He’d tried. But a man could just spread himself so thin before something started to break. In the end it had been his marriage.

  So if he’d not had time for Liza, what was he doing spending this afternoon with Dominique? he asked himself. Inviting more trouble for himself? She was off-limits to him. He shouldn’t be flirting with her. Even in a harmless way.

  “Marcus, you’re frowning. What is it? Have you decided you need to get back to the castle, after all?”

  With a shake of his head, he glanced at Dominique. Her face was fresh and sweet and so unlike the wife who’d divorced him. Liza had been all glamour, with ink-black hair, deep blue eyes and lips that were always painted a vivid red or bright coral. She’d been a beautiful siren. And when they’d first met, he’d not been able to resist her. That had been his biggest mistake. One that he was still paying for. Not with his wallet but with emotional scars that refused to fade.

  The memories filled him with disgust and twisted his lips to a rueful line. “No. I don’t have to go back to the castle right now. I was just thinking about my ex-wife,” he admitted. “She believed I neglected her.”

  Dominique’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly as she searched his dark profile. Once again, she’d not expected him to unload something so personal. But then the stress of the past week was causing everyone to behave out of character. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe she had anything to do with Marcus opening his private life.

  After a moment, she decided to ask, “Did you?”

  His jaw tightened. “Not intentionally. I never wanted to hurt her that way. But my job kept me confined to the castle and she hated that.
Especially after she became pregnant.”

  Dominique was almost glad she’d been away while Marcus had been married. Somehow she knew it would have hurt to see him with another woman or to see that woman carrying his child. She’d even gone so far as to dream that once she grew up and acquired her education, she would come back and wow him with her beauty and poise and dignity.

  Dignity, she silently repeated with a healthy dose of self-disgust. That trait was the last thing she possessed. And soon the whole world was going to know it.

  Trying to take her thoughts elsewhere, she glanced at him and asked, “Was my father that much of a slave driver? I know he can be very demanding. Nicholas and Isabel have certainly had their own rounds with him. And I’ve had a few in the past. But being away at university has spared me many of his edicts.”

  His sigh was followed by a smile of genuine fondness. “No. King Michael never asked more of me than he would have asked of himself. If I needed time away from the office, he didn’t question my reasons.”

  She continued to search his profile while wondering just how much his heart had been broken. And she was sure it had been broken. Marcus might appear hard and cool to most people, but Dominique knew there was more to him once you got past the armored layer of skin.

  “Then what was the problem?”

  Funny, but if anyone else had asked him such a forward question he would have shot them down with a cool stare. But Dominique was different somehow. She made it feel normal for him to talk about his failings. And God knew, he’d had plenty where Liza was concerned.

  “In simple terms, Dominique, I didn’t know how to be a husband.”

  She thought about that as the car carried them into the busier streets of downtown. Finally, when he stopped at the first traffic light, she looked at him and asked, “Are you telling me you didn’t know how to be a husband, or just didn’t want to be?”

  He answered with a good-natured chuckle. “Oh, Dominique, you are an inquisitive little thing.”