Dancing with a Prince (Matchmakers in Time Book 3)

by Kit Morgan

  “So you are, as am I. Now, mind telling me why you look so upset?”

  “I’ll tell you why.” He pointed at the shrubbery. “Prince Asger is in the garden with a girl in his arms!”

  “What?” Wilks said. “Why?”

  Dag looked put upon. “Hermann, why do men have women in their arms? Think.”

  Wilks gasped. “He’s having a tryst?”

  “Something is going on between them. And it wasn’t kissing!”

  Wilks began to pace. “This could ruin all our plans.”

  “It could get us both killed! We’ve worked too hard to get this far, Hermann. I want Lacona’s forces ready to defend us should the need arise. The marriage between Asger and Velta must take place. It’s the one thing King Bjorn insists on.”

  Wilks sighed. “Yes, of course it is.” He shuddered. “Poor Asger.”

  “Sacrifices must be made for the sake of Dalrovia.” Dag waved his finger at him. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to talk the queen and that husband of hers into this?”

  “Yes. I also know that if they knew what you were really up to, they’d have your head.”

  Dag’s hand went to his neck before he could think. He quickly drew it away. “My neck is safe and so is yours – so long as you stick to the plan.”

  Wilks got in his face. “Count Rudge will have equal satisfaction in hanging you if you fail.”

  Dag involuntarily pulled at his shirt collar. “Well, then, I won’t fail – and you’d better not either. What message do you have from the count?”

  “That you ensure Prince Asger is presented well to the princess. If she’s in a foul mood – and we both know there’s a good chance of it – she might balk at the match.”

  “That fool girl … the prince is in fine form and handsome as they come. He’s intelligent, which has been difficult to work around. Most importantly, he’ll do anything for Dalrovia.”

  “Then what’s he doing having early-morning trysts with some woman in the gardens?”

  Dag thought about that. He’d been upset earlier, but now that he’d seen Wilks his reason had returned. “What young buck doesn’t before he marries? Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on him. If I have to, I’ll slip him something to make him more … agreeable.”

  “See that you do. Princess Velta is like a raging storm. Most disagreeable – no wonder her father wants to be rid of her.”

  “Not to mention the count,” Dag said. “Rudge has been wanting to get her out of Lacona for years now.”

  “He’s wanted to get his hands on Dalrovia for decades. The princess is an annoyance, nothing more. Just remember, Dalrovia is the prize – the marriage is only the seal. My great-uncle has plans for the two countries and he’ll see them done – so long as he has the King’s ear. And as ‘Toleman’, the king’s most trusted advisor, he does.”

  “Or until he’s found out. You too, for that matter. If anyone discovers he’s the notorious Count Rudge, or that you’re Rudge’s grandnephew, you’ll find your neck will stretch as well as mine.”

  “I’ve been willing to risk being labeled a traitor for the good of my country. The queen can rule, but she knows nothing of war. We need a king on the throne, not a woman.”

  Dag nodded. He couldn’t argue with that. The countries around them were restless, had been since 1871 after a united Germany thrashed the French. No one wanted war – well, except Bismarck – but Count Rudge, posing as Toleman, advisor to the king, insisted a big one was coming and had been trying to convince King Bjorn for years. Finally the king had listened and built up Lacona’s military – as much as a tiny country could.

  Yet there was something not quite right about what Count Rudge was doing, and Dag had never been able to put his finger on it. He eyed Wilks. “Tell me, is he accompanying His Majesty today?”

  Wilks smirked. “You know as well as I that my great-uncle isn’t about to show his face in Dalrovia. What if someone recognizes him? He’d be arrested on the spot.”

  “After all the trouble he caused years ago I’m surprised he hasn’t been. He wanted the kingdom then and almost got it by marrying Princess Madeleina. But that didn’t work out for him, did it?”

  Wilks drew his sword. “Are you in a hurry to die? I can arrange it.”

  “Put your weapon away – I’m only trying to make a point. Rudge has wanted to get his hooks into this country for years. Why?”

  “You have to ask? Look around you – some of the richest farmland in Europe.”

  “True, but it’s not much land. It’s not as if we can feed the continent.”

  “We could feed quite a bit of it if we had to. And there’s also the untapped sources of …” Wilks snapped his mouth shut.

  Dag narrowed his eyes. “Of what?”

  Wilks resheathed his sword. “I’ll say no more. If you’re lucky enough to stay within the count’s good graces, I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

  “I always suspected there was something else. What is it – gold, silver? Our mines produce, but nothing on so grand a scale as to make your uncle resort to the things he’s done.” He watched Wilks carefully for any sign of confirmation.

  He got a pistol in his face instead. “See here, Doctor. Do as you’re told and get the job done or I’ll finish you myself.”

  Dag stared down the barrel of the gun, feeling strangely calm. Wilks didn’t know any method but force, the dumbhead. “Is that so? And what’ll you do if you’re found out?”

  “If I am, it won’t be hard to guess the culprit, will it?”

  Dag smiled. He was in too deep to back out now – he’d see it through. Besides, it wasn’t as if King Bjorn wanted to take over Dalrovia. Count Rudge did; Bjorn was just his puppet. He could see Rudge’s point – Dalrovia and Lacona together would be a more formidable foe than separately. Still, there was a missing piece. A man like Count Rudge didn’t go after something without great benefit to himself. If it wasn’t gold or silver, what was it? Perhaps something Rudge discovered when he served Dalrovia all those years ago.

  “Well?” Wilks spat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “Yes. Kindly put your gun away.”

  Wilks holstered the weapon and sneered. “Just see it done. Bjorn will be much easier to control without his daughter underfoot. Besides, she’s driving the count crazy.”

  “I hear it’s a great talent she possesses.” He shook his head. “Poor Asger.”

  “Sacrifices must be made for the sake of the country, just as you said.”

  Dag sighed, glanced at the shrubbery he’d have to traverse to get back and grimaced. “I’d best be on my way.”

  Wilks grabbed his arm. “Remember, Dag, see them married and keep your mouth shut. In time you’ll receive your reward.”

  Dag glared at the hand on his arm before wrenching it free. “I’ll do my part. Just make sure you do yours.”

  “Of course.” Wilks crossed his eyes. “I’ve become quite adept at pretending to be an idiot.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “And Dag? If the young woman the Prince was with this morning gets in the way, kill her.”

  Dag sighed. Wilks didn’t need to pretend to be an idiot – it came to him naturally. He was like a wild boar forcing his way through life, tearing up everything he couldn’t understand. As the doctor struggled into the hedge, he hoped the guard didn’t get them both hanged.

  Mitzi stumbled into her room, surprised Mildred wasn’t there yet, even more surprised there were no guards outside her door. But she wouldn’t argue. She’d made it back without being spotted so no one should be the wiser.

  Except Asger, whom she’d left looking stunned, as shocked by the phenomenon as she was. It took all her strength to leave him, but she had. In fact, she was surprised she was able to get to her feet, more so when she got them to move. Before she knew it, she was running pell-mell toward the castle. It was still frightfully early and she wondered what time the place came to life. She wished she knew what time it was – she only h
ad the sun as a guide – but if her guess was right, it wasn’t even seven o’clock.

  She went to the windows, opened one and looked at the forest below. She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t stand the thought of Asger marrying another. She’d never thought about marriage until today, had no desire for it. But he changed everything. He was meant for her. She used to think that was the silliest notion in the world – she never believed in love at first sight or instant attraction. Okay, maybe the latter had something to with it, but she’d never experienced it until she met Asger. Besides, what was between them went way beyond attraction.

  Mitzi wiped one eye. Was she crying? She looked at her hand but there were no tears. “This is so weird.” She went to the bed, pulled off her shoes, crawled under the covers and groaned. She didn’t care that she was dressed or that Mildred would probably have a fit. “This can’t be happening!” Leave it to her to find the perfect man in a completely different century who was getting married to someone else. It just figured.

  But that wasn’t the worst of it. The unexplainable thing between them had a life of its own – it was thinking, moving, trying to rope them together and tightening their bonds so they had no choice but to blend into one another. Like mixing whipped cream into chocolate pudding, creating one creamy delicious mess.

  To Mitzi’s dismay, she began to sob. “Oh, great,” she cried. “Where is this coming from?” It was like having two hearts and one of them was breaking. But she had no control over it or that weird emptiness and loneliness she’d been feeling. It was like plummeting down a dark well with no bottom. She just kept falling and falling. The only thing she could think about was that she was getting farther away from Asger. And when she got too far, she’d die.

  The sound of the door opening drew her attention. “Good morning, my dear. It’s a beautiful day!” Mildred sang. “Put the tray over there please,” she ordered someone. “Thank you. That will be all.”

  Mitzi sniffed back her tears, wiped her eyes, then slowly pushed back the covers.

  “There you are,” Mildred said with a giggle. “Come now, the morning sunshine is good for you.”

  “I’ve already had my dose of sunshine this morning, thank you very much.”

  “How can that be when you’re hiding under your blankets?” Mildred teased. “Come now, dear. Crawl out of there and have some breakfast.”

  Mitzi sniffed a few more times and slowly sat up.

  Mildred gasped. “My heavens, what have you been doing? Why are you dressed and in bed?”

  Mitzi took one look at her, then fell against the pillows. “I’m not sure I want to get out of bed again. Maybe I should put my nightgown back on.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mildred pulled back the covers. “Up with you. I’ve brought you a lovely breakfast. After we eat, I thought we could take a walk in the gardens.”

  “No!” Mitzi grabbed the covers and threw them over her head again.

  Mildred yanked them off just as fast. “Stop that, young lady. Get out of that bed and eat.”

  Mitzi turned her face to the pillow. “Go away!”

  Mildred grabbed a foot and tickled it mercilessly. “Get out of that bed!”

  “Stop!” she laughed. “Please don’t!”

  “Then get up. And while you’re at it, tell me what happened.”

  Mitzi froze. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m here to watch over you, remember? Don’t think I didn’t see you running into the gardens earlier.”

  Mitzi gaped at her. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  “I wanted to see how despairing you were first. Very much so, I see. What happened?”

  Mitzi swung her legs off the side of the bed and sighed. “I ran into Asger.”

  “How lovely!”

  Mitzi scoffed. “Not really.” She looked Mildred in the eyes. “Did you know he’s getting married?”

  Mildred’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, that. Well, personally I was hoping it wouldn’t happen …”

  Mitzi stood. “Well, you should have told me! And here we were experiencing such wonderful yet painful encounters …” She clamped her jaw shut – that was more than she’d meant to say.

  “Oh?” Mildred said with raised eyebrows.

  “Don’t ask me to explain what’s going on, because I can’t, but something happened between us. And now this.”

  “Don’t let it trouble you, my dear. Besides, you want to go home, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course, but … I’ve never experienced anything like this with a man before.” She couldn’t believe she just told Mildred, but she had to talk to somebody and it sure as heck wouldn’t be Albert. Speaking of which … “Do you think my friend Al is up?”

  “Probably, but Captain Kolbeck will see to his needs.” She motioned to the table. “Come and eat, my dear. You’ll feel better.”

  Mitzi trudged to the table and sat as Mildred looked her over. “I know, I know, I’m a mess.”

  “On the contrary,” Mildred said. “It’s not as bad as all that. But you’ll want to change for the ceremony.”

  Mitzi closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Are they getting married today?”

  “Heavens, no, child. Prince Asger is being presented to Princess Velta and her father.”

  “Doesn’t she have a mother?”

  “I’m afraid the queen passed about five years ago. Poor King Bjorn was quite broken up over it. That is until his new advisor, Toleman, brought him out of his grief.”

  “I wish he could bring me out of mine,” she said softly.

  “What was that, dear?”

  “Nothing.” Mitzi lifted the lid off the tray. “Ham and eggs. An all-American favorite.” She looked at the fried potatoes and her mouth watered. As much as she’d suffered recently, Mildred had managed to stabilize her. She watched the woman fuss around the table, serving them both. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it, dear,” Mildred sat.

  “No, I don’t mean the food. I mean, thank you for being such a good … companion?”

  Mildred grinned. “Nevermindnevermind, dear. It’s what I do.”

  Mitzi smiled back, picked up her fork and took a bite of potatoes. Lord knew she needed a companion right now. Without one, she didn’t know if she’d survive this day.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Asger knew his parents wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t want a long speech about doing his duty and how to present himself to Princess Velta and King Bjorn. He wasn’t a child – he didn’t need to be reminded again of what was at stake or if his hair wasn’t just so. Mother would make a fuss, Raina would stand guard and make sure he didn’t bolt and Vale … well, Vale would leave Dalrovia if it meant escaping the same fate.

  So he did what any other self-respecting prince would do before throwing his life away – he went to the forest to think. He had a lot on his mind, especially after what happened with Mitzi in the garden earlier. As if he wasn’t shaken enough.

  He went to his favorite tree and sat. He couldn’t stay long – he’d have to report in and get fawned over by attendants sent to prepare him. He felt like a fatted calf about to be served up on a platter. A chill went up his spine just thinking about it. And when he thought of Mitzi …

  The pain hit like a battering ram, harder than ever before. He groaned and grabbed his stomach. Why did this happen? And it was only getting worse. He tried to stand and couldn’t. Now what would he do? Worse, he felt … his eyes widened as he realized he couldn’t feel his own pulse. His heart was … gone?

  Asger grabbed the tree trunk and tried to pull himself to his feet. He had to get back to the castle! But the pain came again, harder, faster, making him cry out. “AAAAAH!” By all that was holy, what was happening?! Could anyone hear him? Doubtful – this was his private spot, selected specifically for its isolation. The guards would be patrolling the roads and surrounding the castle, awaiting King Bjorn’s arrival. He could die out here and no one would find him until much later.
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  He really felt like he was dying. The emptiness in his heart was so vast, he couldn’t describe it. And it hurt. “Mitzi …” he rasped. If he hurt, did she? Was she even now screaming and writhing in twisting, obliterating pain?

  Tears formed in his eyes and he knew there was only one thing he could do. If he truly was dying, how could he marry Velta? Would he die if he did? Maybe what he and Mitzi had experienced was all in their heads. Were they both mad? Had they gone “’round the bend,” as his mother liked to say?

  But the pain wasn’t in his head. It was very real and growing worse by the minute. If he couldn’t get to his feet, he might never move again.

  All of this had started when Mitzi showed up … which had to mean she was brought here for a reason. Was it to keep him from dying, or to kill him? Maybe she was an assassin. But that was impossible – as soon as he drew near her the pain departed, especially when he touched her. What would happen if he kissed her?

  Another bout hit and Asger groaned. He had to get to his feet! “Mitzi!” he yelled. “Mitziiii!”

  “Asger!”

  “What?” Mildred said.

  Mitzi stared at her as pain ripped through her midsection. She grabbed the table, white-knuckled.

  Mitzi!

  “There it is again.” Mitzi jumped to her feet. “Asger?”

  “What is it, child? What’s wrong?”

  She turned to Mildred. “It’s Asger. I …” She dreaded the woman’s reaction to her next words. “I can hear him.” She tapped her temple.

  Mildred calmly stood. “Can you, now?”

  Okay, at least she didn’t call her nuts. “Yes. And he’s in trouble.”

  “How do you know?”

  The pain hit Mitzi so hard she fell to her knees, scrabbling at her stomach.

  “Oh, dear me, that’s how,” Mildred said. “Right then, what to do? Come child, you must get up.”