by Tara Rose
* * * *
Abigail hadn’t had this much fun in so long, she couldn’t stop smiling. The ballroom was the largest space she’d ever seen, and she couldn’t stop laughing at the decorations. Daffodils and tulips graced the walls, set into clear vases. The tablecloths had been embroidered with floral scenes, and pastel-colored streamers hung from the chandeliers.
If she hadn’t known she was in another universe, she’d have sworn she was at a high school dance. The decorations were both nostalgic and heartwarming, because they made her feel like she was finally outdoors again, and they reminded her of home.
But the orchestra wasn’t the usual caliber of high school dance bands. They were as skilled as any professional musicians she’d ever heard play. And even if the tunes weren’t familiar to her, they were just as lively and easy to waltz to as any Strauss or Chopin tune she’d danced to in her prior life.
Her prior life…that was how she referred to it in her mind now. And as time passed, she found herself thinking less and less of home. Jarrett and Colton kept her busy enough to fill the time, and there were days now when she found it difficult to imagine having to go to work, clean her own condo, or even dress herself. But she felt far from lazy at living this life of luxury.
It was more of a subtle change inside her. One that let her accept Patricia’s station as her maid. But instead of that change making her feel like she was taking advantage of Patricia, she embraced the fact that it allowed her to enjoy having time to read and finally learn to embroider. She’d even begun to try her hand at crocheting, and found she loved the more intricate designs the best. They fed her love of order and logic because she could see the finished pattern in her mind. She loved the challenge of making it come to life with a needle and thread or with a crochet hook and yarn.
While the orchestra took a break, Jarrett and Colton moved to another table to speak with family members, and Abigail set off down the hall with Patricia toward the nearest bathroom. They were part of a large group all with the same intention in mind, and when Abigail realized she’d have to wait in long lines, she asked Patricia where the next nearest one was. “I feel like I’m back in school or at a concert. Bad memories because I really have to go now.”
Patricia gave her the same confused frown she did when Abigail made a comment that the poor girl had no clue how to interpret, and then she offered to take Abigail to another bathroom so she didn’t get lost.
“No, it’s all right. Just tell me where to go. I won’t get lost. I promise.” She was slowly becoming used to the pattern of twists and turns, and the realization that eventually, all the rooms led back to the same main corridors.
Patricia looked uncertain, but finally gave Abigail directions which didn’t sound complicated at all to her. She scurried away, found the suite of unused rooms easily enough, and then after she’d taken care of her needs, she wandered slowly back toward the ballroom. It would be easy to find again because of the noise, so when she spotted a room she’d never been in, she decided to take a quick peek inside before heading back.
The doors were partially open, so she walked in, drawn to the weapons on the wall. There was an extensive collection, and she wondered if it was a room where they simply displayed every one they had ever used, or if these belonged to someone. There were no cards or plaques under them or next to them, so she began to believe it was someone’s private collection.
This room opened up into others on each of the other three walls, and all of those doors were unlocked as well. Abigail debated, wondering how long the break was. She hadn’t been gone more than five or six minutes, surely. And judging by those lines to use the bathroom, it would take close to half an hour before all the women were back in the ballroom. Maybe she could just take a quick tour and no one would miss her?
One of the rooms was clearly a bedroom, so she started to back out of it but realized it didn’t look like anyone used it. There were no personal items on the dresser or nightstand, and the room had a musty, unoccupied air about it. It, too, opened into other rooms. She peeked into a sitting room that also had an aura of emptiness, and then a bathroom, devoid of any items that would lead her to believe someone regularly used it.
She returned to the room with the weapons and was about to take a look into the next room, when voices reached her ears. Two males, arguing, and they were coming closer. She ducked into the room and closed the doors, but then left them open just a crack so she could hear.
She jumped slightly when the doors to the weapons room slammed closed. She backed away from the partially open doors, flattening herself against the wall. She should have just left the weapons room. This was a huge mistake.
“I told you it was dangerous. The Council isn’t going to stop until they find you.”
“The artists are here. In the castle. They made it easy for me.”
Her blood ran cold. She didn’t recognize either voice, but it was obvious what they were discussing. The artists who made the portraits.
“You fool! You’ve won their trust. If you act now without a clear plan in place, they’ll see you for who you really are, and all our plans will be ruined.”
“You said you’d help me, Dalton.”
Dalton? Who was Dalton? She’d heard that name before but couldn’t place it. Jarrett and Colton would know. She had to get back to the ballroom and let them know what she’d heard.
A scuffling sound reached her ears. “Now you listen to me, Willoughby. I did what I could. I got you in here as a guard, and I did so at great personal risk. The rest is up to you. But if you act foolishly you’ll get caught.”
“And that will be on your head, not mine.”
“The hell it will! You expose me and we both die, you idiot. I’m your only hope.”
Abigail put a hand over her mouth as she realized what she’d just heard. The threat wasn’t from Enfield. It was from inside their own castle. She had to warn them.
She started walking slowly across the room, hoping to find another door that would eventually lead her back to the corridor. From there she could find the ballroom by following the sound.
But it was dark in the room and she couldn’t see much. By the time she noticed the table in front of her it was too late. She tried to hold in the sound as she smacked her abdomen against it, but wasn’t sure she’d done an effective job. Abigail stopped moving, her pulse racing now, as she listened for sounds from the weapons room.
“I heard it, too,” said Dalton, so quietly she barely heard him.
She heard them walking, but it was impossible to tell whether they were moving toward her, or into another room. She felt in front of her to find the table edge, but her hand brushed something heavy on top of it and pushed it toward the edge of the table. Abigail tried to catch it but since she couldn’t see it, she misjudged the distance and it fell to the parquet floor, clattering so loudly she swore out loud.
She ran blindly but only managed to run into a chair when the lights came on in the room. Fear raced through her as she turned to face the men.
“Well, well,” said Dalton. “If it isn’t Miss Abigail Dawson, Prince Colton’s and Prince Jarrett’s little plaything.”
Now she knew where she’d heard the name before. Dalton was on the Council. She’d actually met him once, and had been wary of his ferretlike face and cold gaze. He looked the same now, as well as slightly amused.
Willoughby looked both surprised and confused. “This is the same girl I saw in the woods?”
Her eyes widened. He was the man who had seen and heard them. Holy shit. Dalton had somehow managed to make a spy from Enfield a guard inside the castle. Willoughby wore the uniform of a guard. This was far worse than she thought. The threat wasn’t only from within their own ranks, but from within their Council.
Willoughby leered at her, and Abigail’s stomach turned over. She drew herself up. “I heard what you both said.” Her voice came out shaky, and she forced away the terror that rose up. She would not give into that. The
se men were in the wrong, and she would expose their plans.
“I’m sure you did,” said Dalton, his voice silky smooth and not the least bit afraid. “And it’s such a shame you’ll never have the chance to repeat it to anyone.”
Abigail turned and ran as they advanced toward her. The doors on the other side of the room opened into a corridor, but she didn’t recognize it and she heard no noise from the ballroom. She ran, trying hard not to panic, but she had on heels and they were too fast.
One of them caught up to her, grabbed her around the shoulders, and knocked her to the stone floor. Her chest hurt like hell and she tried to roll him off her, but he was far too strong. As she fought off the pain and dizziness, he spoke softly in her ear, his voice dark and threatening.
“You’re not going to tell anyone what you heard.” Dalton’s voice was full of venom. Abigail closed her eyes and silently called to Jarrett and Colton. “But you are going to be sorry you were eavesdropping in places you don’t belong.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jarrett paced the corridor, and when he finally spotted Patricia, he knew something was wrong before she spoke a word. She wrung her hands, and her face was flushed. “I can’t find her, Your Highness. She should have been back by now.”
“Where did she go? I thought she was with you?”
“She didn’t want to wait in line. I sent her over to the room where they keep all those weapons. But I went there to look for her, and she’s not there.”
Jarrett forced himself not to snap at Patricia. She’d only done what Abigail had likely asked her to do. Colton had joined them now, and Jarrett told Patricia to find Jon and Seth, and have them bring a couple of guards to the area where Abigail was last seen. She was safe inside the castle, but he had a bad feeling about this and couldn’t say why. Better to take extra precautions and look foolish over nothing than to wish he’d done so.
“What’s going on?” asked Colton.
Jarrett motioned for him to follow, and then he summarized what Patricia had said.
“You’re getting worked up because she used a different bathroom?”
“No. Because she isn’t back yet and I have a bad feeling.”
Colton shook his head. “Nothing would happen to her here. We’re near the Council chambers and their private suites. She couldn’t be in a safer part of the castle alone.”
“Unless the rumors about Dalton are true.” Jarrett spoke softly so only Colton would hear him.
Colton’s face filled with dread. “I haven’t seen him tonight.”
“Neither have I, which is odd. So I’d rather go looking for her and find out she simply wandered off and got lost than find out we were wrong about her safety near the Council chambers.”
The weapons room was empty, but when Jarrett spotted the overturned chair against one wall, he inhaled deeply. Peppermint and vanilla. Abigail had been in this room. And another scent tickled his senses. Sage. There was only one man who smelled like that.
Colton smelled it, too. He glanced toward Jarrett with stark terror on his face. “I told my father…begged him to keep a closer eye on Dalton. Do you think he followed her here?”
Jarrett took a crossbow off the wall. “I don’t know. But they were both here, and recently.”
Jon, Seth, and two guards came into the room behind them, and Jarrett forced his voice to stay calm. Inside, he screamed her name and begged her to be safe. “Alert everyone. Abigail is missing, and a Council member suspected of helping spies from Enfield is likely with her.”
* * * *
Colton took a sword off the wall, and then he and Jarrett first checked the rooms that led from this one. Dalton had long been suspected of having an allegiance with Enfield, but his father had taken a wait and see attitude. Even after the incident in the woods, no one had taken the suspicions seriously. If Dalton did anything to hurt Abigail, Colton would run this sword through the man.
When they entered a room with the lights on and spotted the broken vase on the floor, they exchanged a dark glance. Jarrett pointed toward an overturned chair, and then they went through the set of doors nearest to it. Within seconds, they were joined by additional guards. This corridor led directly to Dalton’s private rooms, so they decided to try there first.
He wouldn’t dare touch her. She belonged to two princes. He knew it would be death to do so. But what if she’d wandered into these rooms accidentally and had seen him do something she thought looked suspicious? Or something he hadn’t wanted anyone to see? What if she’d overheard something and he’d caught her listening?
Why had she come into this part of the castle? Why hadn’t she simply stayed with Patricia?
Because you and Jarrett never led her to believe she had anything to fear inside these walls.
That was true. They’d kept so much from her. If they had told her their suspicions about Dalton, she might not have wandered this far from the ballroom. This was their fault. If anything happened to her, they’d be to blame, not Abigail.
* * * *
Abigail shook her head to clear the fog. Her chest no longer hurt, but she couldn’t move. She turned her head to one side, then the other, gasping as she realized her arms were tied to bed posts. She lifted her head and then shook it, not wanting to believe what she saw.
Her shoes were gone, and her ankles were also tied to bedposts. She smelled sage, which was the same scent she remembered smelling as Dalton had whispered in her ear. She wasn’t alone in the room, either.
She glanced over and there they stood. Dalton and Willoughby, drinking something dark from crystal glasses and laughing softly. Hot fear raced through her, and she tried to stay calm. But all she wanted was to be back with Jarrett and Colton. Tears stung her eyes as she pictured their faces and silently screamed their names.
Why had Dalton and Willoughby done this to her? They knew who she was. Dalton had called her by name. Why didn’t they have any fear of what Jarrett and Colton would do to them? Were things that bad inside their own walls, and neither prince had known it? Or had they kept it from her so she wouldn’t worry?
They would come looking for her when she didn’t return with Patricia. She knew they would. But how would they know where to find her?
Dalton glanced over and smiled, but it wasn’t an amused or happy smile. The evil on his face forced a whimper from her as the fear spiraled up once more. “She’s awake. Time to have some fun.”
Abigail had a sudden vision of what they intended to do, and she screamed as loudly as she could. Dalton sprinted toward the bed and climbed on top of her, straddling her chest. He placed a hand over her mouth, his eyes dark and cold. “Do that again and I’ll gag you.”
Willoughby took his cock out of his breeches and Abigail fought to keep breathing. This could not happen. Not inside the castle. She was safe here. They’d told her that. Where were they right now? How would they find her?
“Maybe I should shut her up with this? She certainly didn’t mind taking their highnesses’ dicks into that pretty mouth of hers.”
This isn’t happening. Tears spilled over her lashes as terror, now icy cold, spread through her body. This wasn’t possible. These men couldn’t simply rape her inside the castle. She belonged to Colton and Jarrett. Dalton was a Council member! They couldn’t do this.
“They’ll find out you did this,” she whispered. “They’ll kill you.”
Dalton held up a small knife, then slit open each of the laces on her bodice, one by one. “I don’t think so. Who’s going to tell them?”
“I will.” She hoped she sounded braver than she felt. She fought to stay conscious, because if she passed out now, it was over. She’d have no way to fight this or tell Jarrett and Colton what these men had done to her.
He shook his head. “No, you won’t.” He opened her bodice. Her breathing came in short gasps now. She’d never been so afraid in her life. “You won’t say a word about this, because who would believe you? A Council member and a castle guard would nev
er dare touch a girl who belongs to two princes.”
“They will believe me!”
“Not when we get through with you they won’t.” He sliced open her corset, and then moved it aside. As the cool air hit her nipples, she cried out again and tried to stop the tears, but it was no use. Her breath came in gasps, and she closed her eyes, picturing Jarrett’s and Colton’s faces.
They had to find her. Somehow, she had to tell them where she was. He’d said he would gag her, but even if he did, at least she’d get one more scream out. It was her only hope. Her one chance that Colton and Jarrett were close enough to wherever these two had brought her, and they would hear her call their names.
* * * *
Jarrett stopped walking as he heard a woman scream. Icy cold fear gripped his heart. He met Colton’s gaze, and didn’t even need to say it. Their worst fears had just been confirmed.
When they reached the doors to Dalton’s private chambers, Abigail’s terrified voice screamed again, their names this time. Jarrett wasn’t sure he could keep breathing. His boots pounded on the stone as he ran. He heard the sound, but all his focus was on Abigail. He pictured her face, and realized he might have to kill a man tonight to save the women he loved.
The guards burst in ahead of him and Colton, but they weren’t in the sitting room. Jarrett’s stomach contracted in revulsion as he nodded toward a set of closed doors at the far end, which he guessed was Dalton’s bedroom. He and Colton moved to the front of the men, and Jon tried to pull them back.
“Sire, they might have weapons.”
“If they do, I’ll get my shot off first.” No way was he letting anyone take the lead on this. Abigail belonged to him and Colton, and it would be the two of them who rescued her. And then he’d kill Dalton with his bare hands.
* * * *
