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A Bride for the King

A Bride for the King
L.J. Dare
Chapter One
Barovia -1859
Belle lingered at the rain splashed windows, her arms hugging her churning stomach. Although the summer downpour obscured the view of the quaint seaside village below, she could see the vague reflections in the window pane of the three men striding into the inn’s private sitting room behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at her twin, nodded once and returned to peer at their reflections in the glass. She narrowed her fuzzy gaze as her sister walked toward the three British Naval Officers.
“Let me make sure I understand you correctly,” Rita said, her mocking tone sending a trickle of trepidation through Belle as her sister addressed the Captain who had accompanied them ashore. “You are telling Her Royal Highness that you’re not only abandoning her in a foreign port but you are also leaving her without British protection?”
“Your Ladyship, ‘tis not our intention-” the Captain began.
“Are you saying we haven’t accurately assessed the situation?” her sister inserted as she swept forward and halted with a swish of her skirts before the officer, her arms held akimbo.
“Excuse me for a moment while I verify something,” the Captain said as he turned to confer with the other two men.
“By all means,” Rita said giving a dismissive wave then she began to tap the toe of her slipper impatiently on the amber varnished wooden floor.
Belle noted her own tight smile reflected in the glass. Leave it to Rita to dive right into the crux of their problem. She sobered, afraid that her unguarded expression might be seen and reveal their ruse. Leaning forward, she studied the images of the three men whispering fiercely in the room behind her. She frowned. Granted, the men had escorted them from the ship, through the churning Ionian Sea to the quay and then up through the narrow, winding cobblestoned streets in an antiquated coach pulled by four mismatched nags to the Black Swan Inn. But really, Admiral Birkhead had assured her that his men would remain with them until their brother and King Stefan arrived. Obviously, that wasn’t the case now and the plan had changed.
“Your Ladyship,” Captain Waverly, wheezed, “‘tis not so much that we’re deserting you, ‘tis...”
Belle took a deep breath. Time for her to go to work. Lifting the train of her bottle-green velvet riding habit, she straightened her spine and turned to survey the room. “Gentlemen,” she announced to gain everyone’s attention. “We do understand the untenable position you have been placed in,” she said choosing her words carefully. “And we do deeply and humbly appreciate your valuable assistance.”
“Oh! Thank you, Your Highness,” Captain Waverly said, bowing his graying head at her, “for not only your kindness but also your patience and understanding. If King Stefan’s troops weren’t already stationed around the inn then we would gladly remain until His Royal Highness personally arrives. However, with his troops positioned around the perimeter, our orders from the Admiralty Fleet were to see you settled then return, post haste to our ship. We’re to sail with the tide.”
Belle nodded and glanced at her mirror image still tapping her foot. One thing for certain, life hadn’t been dull growing up with such a mercurial older twin. Belle had never been able to predict what her surly sister would do next. “I am sure His Majesty and our brother will be here soon,” she said, pride keeping her from arguing with the senior officer. “Therefore, we will remain sequestered here until they arrive.”
“That would be advisable, Your Highness,” Captain Waverly nodded and then opened his mouth as if he would like to say more but closed it as if he’d had a sudden change of heart.
Wise man, Belle thought as she glanced at the other two naval officers. Were they as cavalier about deserting them as the Captain? She narrowed her gaze wishing she had been able to wear her spectacles. It appeared that young Mr. Ainsley shuffled his hat from one hand to the other while Mr. Trumble looked everywhere but at them. She nodded. Rita had been right all along. There would be no help from the British Navy or from its officers. They were strictly on their own, abandoned in a foreign country.
Belle straightened. “Thank you, Gentlemen.” Raising her chin, she took a resolute breath. Since she had assumed the role of the future Queen of Barovia for her twin for a few days then she would act like one. “And since your services are no longer available, we bid you adieu.”
The naval officers looked at each other then bowed quickly. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Captain Waverly said in a rush as he began to back out of the room. “And may we be so bold as to wish you every happiness in your marriage?”
Belle froze at the innocuous reminder then managed to unthaw enough to issue a hasty, “Thank you.” She forced her lips to part in a stiff smile as she flicked her hand in dismissal. Quickly, the men removed themselves from her presence. As they shuffled out of the room, she glanced at her sister who had suddenly turned away. Belle frowned as she noted Rita’s shaking shoulders. She bit her lower lip, hoping Rita’s mirth wouldn’t give away their game. She remained in her regal stance until one of the King’s guard finally closed the private sitting room door, then she collapsed in the nearest chair. “Oh, my! Rita, how will you ever do this?”
A giggle met her question. “You were rather impressive, Belle,” her sister said then swirled, her claret riding skirt belling away from her ankles. “Perhaps you were the one destined to be Queen.”
Surprise along with a sense of relief washed over Belle. She’d passed her first test as the soon-to-be-Queen Rita. “Oh, don’t talk nonsense,” Belle scoffed. “Need I remind you, that being the eldest, you were the one who married King Stefan by proxy this morning aboard ship, and not I?”
“And how do you know that I didn’t ... sign that document as Isabelle Marguerita Mary Elizabeth?” her sister asked, archly.
Suddenly, Belle felt lightheaded. Had Rita signed her name? The question had every muscle in her body turning to mush. Thank goodness she was sitting down otherwise she would’ve ended up in a heap on the floor at the frightening thought. “Rita,” she gasped. Gripping the arms of the chair, she started to rise. “You didn’t!”
Although a half smile curled the corners of Rita’s mouth, her hazel eyes narrowed coldly. Sweeping her hands behind her chignon, she brushed a strand of ginger colored hair from her face. “Now, Belle, don’t be tedious. Would I do that to you?”
Belle settled back into the chair. Her sister had played a variety of self-serving games before. She knew it was best if she remained calm. “I hope not but I distinctly recall that you, Marguerita Isabelle Mary Elizabeth, vowed never to follow another dictate from either our brother or Queen Victoria after we left England. So, what’s changed?”
“I didn’t realize you were so eager to comply with our brother’s arrangement for you to marry that old codger Umberford with his passel of brats once you return to England.”
Belle inhaled sharply then decided she wouldn’t give Rita the satisfaction of knowing how much the mere mention of Umberford’s name made her skin shrivel on her bones. She shook her head and smoothed the material of her riding skirt over her knees. “You know I’m not the least bit happy with Edward’s scheme.”
“Oh!” Rita exclaimed. “Now, don’t get your corset in such a twist. You’ll get all flushed about the collar and we’ll both be in trouble,” she added in a rush. “I was simply being facetious.” She pivoted then seemed to hesitate. “That’s why I suggested you pose as me so I could have the time to adapt to my role.”
Her pleading tone hung suspended for a moment in the silent room.
Finally, Belle nodded. Of course, she understood. Truth to tell, it was bad enough that their brother was forcing her to marry Umberford. But, for Rita to be used as a political pawn to regain their grandfather’s lost estates in Barovia was an abomination of the worst order. She turned away gripping her hands in frustration. For her sister to be forced to facilitate their brother’s greed and give up the man she loved was intolerable. No one should have to endure that kind of pain, especially not Rita. She had already sacrificed so much. Belle turned, suddenly chilled by her own selfishness for not being more empathetic. After all, she had never been in love like Rita was. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know none of this has been easy for you. Have you heard anything at all from Tony?” she asked, gently.
“Nothing,” Rita whispered, her voice cracking. Hurrying across to the fireplace, she braced her forearm against the mantle. “But then I didn’t expect to,” she said. Pivoting, her twin faced her squarely. “Major Anthony Winston is gone. He accepted a post in India.” She straightened, her jaw jutting forward. “When he found out that I was to marry King Stefan of Barovia, he told me that we had to set aside our love and not only obey Edward but our Queen as well.”
Rita’s words seemed to vibrate throughout the room. Belle hugged herself hoping to ward off the pain her sister’s words caused. For one person to have such power over so many was frightening. She paused at the rebellious thought, suddenly realizing that perhaps Rita’s championship of America’s right to declare their independence from Great Britain had merit. She nodded, re-affirming her agreement with Rita to switch identities until her twin could come to grips with her life-altering situation and accept the fact she was to be the Queen of Barovia.
“And that being the reality,” Rita added as she moved toward her, “we’ll stick to my plan of you waiting to switch places with me until after I’ve met King Stefan.” She raised her hand, halting Belle’s further comments. “And if I decide that I can like him, then we’ll return to our own identities and I will marry him in the Barovian Ceremony that has been scheduled three days from now. Agreed?”
“B-but,” Belle felt obligated to say. “You agreed to this marriage. There is no way out but for you to become King Stefan’s wife.”
“Let me remind you that I never agreed to anything.”
“Then why did you go along as if accepting it?” Belle asked as a fluttering sensation clenched her stomach. Her sister released a dramatic sigh then swirled with a dramatic flair to face her.
“That’s just it,” Rita said. “Like you, I’ve had no say in the matter. Everyone, including you, just assumed my compliance. So,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’re as much at fault as Edward. That’s why I need your help.”
Belle took a deep, pained breath. “I know,” she sighed as a wave of guilt washed over her. “And I did promise that,” she added. For truth to tell she’d been relieved that Rita had been chosen to be Queen instead of her. That is, until she’d met Umberford. She shivered and rose from the brocade padded chair. “All right,” she said as she began to pace. “I promised I would help and I will. When I say I will do something, I do it. No, matter the consequences.”
“That’s what I love best about you,” Rita said, latching onto her wrist. Belle found herself halting as her twin tugged her into a tight embrace. “You are the only one who truly understands me,” she said. “Remember when we first switched places at age twelve and you went to Brighton for me?”
Belle nodded, caught in her sister’s tight hug. “I was terrified the whole time that either our Aunt Ellie or Her Majesty would discover I was an impostor,” she confessed as she returned her sister’s hug.
“But that didn’t happen, did it?” Rita said as she pulled away. “We are so alike that no one ever notices our differences.” Turning, her sister faced the oval mirror above the fireplace. “You act and react exactly like me. We mirror each other. That is why I’m inherently confident that you will always react as I would. So there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” she asked as she pivoted.
“I hope I can live up to your expectations,” Belle murmured. She moved away to gaze out the balcony windows as a heavy weight settled in her chest. Rita was wrong. In many ways they were the complete opposites. The problem was that Rita had never taken the time to discover those differences.
Peering through the rain-streaked French doors leading onto the balcony, Belle searched the desolate inlet below for the HMS Sea Hawk. The British Man-of-War that had brought them to Barovia. A bleak sense of desperation swept through her as she searched the horizon for a tiny dot, hoping for one last glimpse of the British Man-of-War and a bit of the familiar. Finding nothing, she gulped back her dismay.
Straightening, she took a deep breath, forcing back her rising tide of uneasiness. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. For once again, circumstances demanded that she hold the tattered pieces of both their lives together. She took another deep breath and blinked back the tears welling inside. In a fortnight she and Rita would be separated. She to live in England and Rita to reign as Queen of Barovia. If what she’d learned about Umberford’s strict dictates were true, then she and her sister would never see each other again. No matter what their brother had promised, Belle knew this would be their last time together. She had only this one last chance to make things right for her twin. She had to do all she could for Rita. She would have no more chances to correct the mistakes she’d made in the past regarding her sister.
Belle choked back the panic threatening to swamp her as she thought of their uncertain futures apart. She took a slow, steady breath. She knew from past experience that it did no good worrying about tomorrow. She couldn’t change the past and the future was too ambiguous to predict. To do that she would need a crystal ball. She gulped at the thought. She’d watched their aunt dabble in the black arts. The arcane had led to nothing but disappointment and heartache for Aunt Ellie.
Slowly, she turned away from the balcony doors. She might as well face the inevitable. She had been abandoned in a foreign country with her sister, their aunt, and two lady’s maids dependent upon her. All they had was each other. That being the case it would have to be enough until Edward arrived with King Stefan.
A frantic scratching sounded at the connecting door, followed by a yelp.
“There’s Muffy,” Rita said. “Aunt Ellie must be up from her nap.”
The door swung open and a white ball of fur tumbled into the room followed by their petite blonde-haired aunt. The small dog raced around Aunt Ellie’s floor-length mauve skirts, yipping shrilly preventing the middle-aged woman from moving further into the room.
Belle looked on in amusement as Rita scooped the small yelping dog up into her arms. The smile dropped from her lips as Belle realized that their ruse was about to be undone by a ball of fluff, Aunt Ellie’s most recent addition to their entourage.
Hastily crossing the room as the dog licked joyously at Rita’s face, Belle held out her arms. “Give him to me.”
“Oh, Muffy,” Aunt Ellie exclaimed. “Imagine that! Now you like her Ladyship just as much as you do her Royal Highness.”
Rita arched her eyebrow. “You sure?” she whispered, pausing to deposit the wiggling canine into Belle’s waiting arms.
Belle nodded, wishing their aunt hadn’t turned so formal in her use of titles. Especially now that they had changed identities. But then her aunt had lived with them for nearly eight years and never seemed to be able to tell the two girls apart. So, surely she would be able to remember who her aunt was addressing?
“Definitely,” she nodded then narrowed her gaze on the oversized rat as Rita handed the dog over to her. The dog squirmed then let out a high-pitched howl as Belle fought to hold onto its squirming, wiggling body. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all, she decided.
“Oh, you bad boy,” their aunt scolded as she quickly lifted her pet from Belle’s arms. “I am so sorry Your Highness,” she said. “I do not know what has gotten into Muffy?”
Belle knew exactly what was wrong with the dog but instead chose to say. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve heard that all males are fickle.” She smiled to soften her words.
“Not just males,” Rita said, her tone hard. “I’ve also known a few females that fit into that category.”
“True,” Belle acknowledged as she waved her hand for Rita to ring for tea.
“My Muffy has always been so good.” Aunt Ellie’s voice trembled as she looked soulfully up at Belle. “I just don’t know what has gotten into him.”
Belle laid her arm across their aunt’s shoulders and directed her toward the armchair positioned near the fireplace. “Don’t fret, my dear. Tea will be here soon.”
“But, Muffy...”
“Is fine,” Belle inserted. “Like humans, some animals don’t travel well. It was a rough crossing for us all.”
“Oh my, yes and especially for you, Your Highness,” Aunt Ellie said. “I am so glad to see you have regained the bloom in your cheeks.”
Surreptitiously, Belle glanced at Rita who still looked a bit pale.
“I’m told that the idea of marriage does that to one,” Rita quipped as she crossed to the fireplace. “Aunt Ellie, allow me to take Muffy for you. He’ll be better off with one of the maids while we have our tea.”
“Good idea,” Belle said as the sitting room door opened and Agatha, her lady’s maid, wheeled in the tea tray. “Let’s all sit and have a relaxing cup while we wait,” she invited.
“Right, might as well make ourselves comfortable,” Rita agreed with an awry twist to her lips. “Who knows how long we’ll be forced to kick up our heels here,” she added as she handed the dog over to the maid.
Without a thought, Belle crossed to the tea trolley and selected a teacup. “Aunt Ellie, would you-“
“Oh, no, Your Highness,” Aunt Ellie popped up out of her chair as if she’d sat on a hot coal. Adjusting her pink-fringed paisley shawl, she hurried across the room. “Please, Your Highness, allow me to do the honor,” she said, hastily snatching the cup from Belle’s fingers before she could object.
Sphynx-like, Belle stared at the petite woman for a moment. Then she glanced over at her twin, her heart hammering in her chest. Had she unknowingly given away their game?
Rita’s small shrug indicated that she had no answer and that only time would tell.
“Very well,” Belle muttered as she allowed Aunt Ellie to proceed. Resuming her seat, she watched their aunt turn and set the cup on a saucer. “I really wish we could drop the ‘Your Highness’ bit though,” she added.
“Oh, no, Your Highness,” Aunt Ellie said as she glanced over her bony shoulder then turned back to pour the tea. Belle noted a blush stained her aunt’s porcelain face as she crossed the room. “I couldn’t possibly agree to that,” she said, offering her the cup filled with Oolong tea. “You must become comfortable with hearing your new title.”
“I suppose you are correct,” Belle sighed then added, “Thank you,” as she accepted the fragrant brew. When she took a sip, a tingling sensation floated across her tongue. Gracious! That wasn’t Oolong. She frowned as she swallowed then noticed that their aunt had returned to the tea cart. What new brand had Aunt Ellie forced them into trying this time?
“Would you like a cup?” Aunt Ellie asked, twisting the black band of her cuff back into place before raising an empty cup and waving it at Rita.
“With or without what you just slipped into her Highness’ cup?” Rita asked.
Belle choked as she went to swallow another sip. Her eyes began to water.
“Oh, dear!” their aunt squeaked. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
Finally getting the tea down, Belle wiped at the tears streaming down her face and then managed to gasp. “See what?”
She heard Rita’s cold chuckle. “I suspect you are drinking one of Aunt Ellie’s offensive potions,” her twin said. “But, by now we both realize that while they may taste awful,” she shrugged. “They are innocuous.”
“O-oh!” Aunt Ellie exclaimed then her shoulders drooped. “I know that I ought to be offended by your words but ... you’ve only stated the truth. I am a complete failure when it comes to casting spells.” She signed, a doleful expression sweeping across her countenance.
“Um-m,” Belle said clearing her throat. “So, what exactly did you put in this?” she asked as a tingling spread down her throat and into her chest. She coughed then managed to gasp out. “Should I be worried?”
“Oh dear! Do you feel ill, Your Highness?” Aunt Ellie asked. A deep frown drew her thinning brows together as she began twisting her lace hankie this way and that.
Belle shook her head, her eyes beginning to water again. “Not necessarily… ill, just…strange.”
“Oh!” Aunt Ellie gasped. A delightful giggle erupting as a grin spread across her wrinkle-free face. She clapped her hands. “Imagine that! It’s working! It’s really working.”
Belle coughed again then pinched her throat to prevent the sneeze tickling the back of her nose from spewing forth.
“What makes you say that?” Rita asked as she handed Belle a lace hanky.
“I have been practicing,” Aunt Ellie said, proudly, her thin lips stretching into a wide smile.
“But, what exactly did you put in my tea?” Belle asked again as she mopped at her streaming eyes.
Aunt Ellie dipped her silver-streaked blonde head, then fingered the coral brooch she wore pinned at the neck of her dress for a moment. “A-a few of my very special herbs,” she said, shyly.
“From our herb garden?” Belle asked, trying to decide if she should be alarmed by the strange aftertaste.
“That ... and a few other things I found,” Aunt Ellie said, nodding vigorously. The movement caused the braids coiled at the back of her head to sway precariously.
“Like eye of toad?” Belle mumbled.
“Oh no, my dear,” Aunt Ellie trilled, shaking her head briskly. “Love potions never use toads, or frogs, or lizards, especially not when dealing with royalty, Your Highness.”
“A l-love potion?” Belle stammered. “Why on earth do you think I need one of those?”
“Well,” Aunt Ellie seemed to hesitate then peered up at her as she extracted two pins from her hair and tucked them back into her coil. “Because I wasn’t sure that the spell I put on your brooch would work. I thought… I had better mix you a special potion as well.”
“Oh-h-h,” Belle sighed, swallowing back the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “And the reason you felt it necessary to go to such lengths was-”
“Your Highness,” Aunt Ellie said, leaning towards Belle and grasping her hand. "For the past eight years you and your sister have been the light of my life. I want only the very best for you. I want you…to be…happy.”
Tears welled up in Belle. “And you think one of your potions will do the trick?” she asked, softly, wanting to remember this overwhelming moment of love pouring out to her for the rest of her life. Knowing that someone wanted the very best for her would have to be enough to sustain her through the dark years she served as Umberford’s wife.
“Oh, yes, Your Highness, I know it will.”
Belle flipped her hand to clasped Aunt Ellie’s in her own. She knew the dear lady had loved and still mourned her husband. “And you really believe that love is necessary in a Marriage of State?”
“Oh, my dear child,” Aunt Ellie said, softly. “Not only is it necessary but it is essential if the marriage is to succeed.”
Belle peered into the kind blue eyes, so wise in courtly protocol yet naïve in so many of the ways of the world. “And you think your potion will help me attain happiness?” she asked as she remembered the blackened kitchen walls she’d help scrub down more times than not after one of Aunt Ellie’s potions had gone awry.
“Oh, yes, Your Highness, it is my fondest wish for you.”
Belle hated to disappoint the woman who had been a loving surrogate mother to them. She lifted her cup from where she had set it on the small table beside her. She stared into the cup for a moment then swirled the contents. Raising it to her lips, she tipped it and swallowed the remaining contents in one gulp. Gently, placing the bone china cup back on its saucer, she bravely met her aunt’s expectant gaze. “Then may all your wishes come true.”
The poignant moment was lost when Rita hurriedly clapped her hands. “Brava, Your Highness, brava!”
Belle wrinkled her brow and eyed her sister warily. She only hoped her bravado hadn’t landed her in more trouble than what she was in already.
***
Prince Nikolai Orsini Garaini, otherwise known as ‘Niko’, slapped his black leather riding gloves against his gray breeches then frowned. Blast! The situation wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination. Although his men had secured the perimeter of the Black Swan Inn, the life of their future Queen was in jeopardy. “And you say the rebels have cut off all access by road into the village?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Colonel Cyrek Domokos handed him the spyglass and pointed to the main road leading into Saranda. “There is a main force waiting by the bridge down there.”
“How many?” Niko asked as he swung the scope and adjusted the knob to focus on the road running east from the village of Saranda to the town of Suri Kalter over the mountains.
“About three dozen.”
“Have they pitched tents?” Niko asked as he turned the glass to the south.
“No,” Cyrek assured him. “Evidently they don’t think they’re going to be there that long.”
“Good,” Niko said knowing if his enemy was entrenched it would be more difficult to roust them out. “And the south road?”
“It’s guarded by a small force,” Cyrek replied.
“So, we’re up against a contingency of about fifty-four rebels?” he asked then wondered if the rebels were there simply to attack another village or if they had been informed that their future Queen had come ashore. If that was the case, then their presence meant that they were there to harm the Lady with the aim of striking a crippling blow to the country.
“Could be more,” Cyrek said, slowly.
Niko heard the caution threaded through his friend’s words. “And the village itself?” he asked, pivoting in that direction, knowing stealth had always been the best option when creating a plan.
“We’re not sure, Your Highness,” Cyrek said. “The villagers are believed to be loyal to the Crown. However, there could be rebels planted in every house or none at all.”
Niko nodded. In these uncertain times, his first priority was to keep Her Ladyship safe and to effectively extract her from harm’s way. “Has there been any unusual movement seen inside the village?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Cyrek said. “As you ordered, our men have filtered into the village over the past two days. Some dressed as fishermen, others as itinerant peasants and a few appear as tradesmen. They are positioned both inside the inn and stationed around it.”
“Good,” he said then frowned. If there had been any way he could’ve delayed the Lady’s arrival until after he’d found out with certainty that someone was supplying information to the rebels then he would’ve. But Stefan needed this marriage pronto to stabilize their country. “And the Lady?”
“She and her entourage arrived minutes ago while you were making your way up here.”
Niko nodded then hesitated. “How large a group?”
“Nearest I can tell,” Cyrek said, “there’s a middle-aged chaperone, two lady’s maids, and another female.”
“Likely her personal secretary,” Niko guessed, pleased she had kept the number of attendants to the maximum his cousin had requested.
But that by no means solved his problem of how to extract her from a village surrounded by rebels. Slowly, he began to pace the small ridge above the main road as he considered the solution. Halting, he waved his officers waiting for instructions over as he bent and drew a squiggly line in the dirt. “While I had planned on bringing her Ladyship into the Bay of Vlore,” he said, pointing to the make-shift position. “With the storm and the Austrian-Hungarian blockade in the Strait of Otranto, I had no other choice but to move our rendezvous point to Saranda since it’s the only port deep enough to handle a British Man of War.” He drew a circle. “Now, we have the task of removing Cousin Stefan’s bride from the threat of the Yugoslavian rebels blocking all our exits from the town.” He straightened and stared at his friend. “Stefan hasn’t been King long enough to gain the full backing of all of our countrymen. If the rebels can stop Stefan’s marriage, our very existence is in jeopardy.”
Cyrek nodded. “Because without this marriage, we have no link to Queen Victoria and England’s might. And without that military power behind us-”
“Greece, Yugoslavia, and Austria-Hungary will invade, claim our land as their own and we will become a bloody battlefield caught between the three countries,” Niko said. “Our defenses cannot withstand the collective invasion of all three nations at once,” he admitted then took a deep breath. “Therefore to prevent that, here’s my plan.” Hastily, he began drawing in the dirt. “We’ll leave you, Major Kelso and your rifle troop here to pin down the rebels at the bridge,” he said pointing at the position he’d drawn. “Captain Bjorni, we will send you and a squad of your men to the south to hunt down the rebels along the road,” he said moving his index finger over to that position. “Major Hondros, you are to maintain your orders to fire at will upon anyone threatening the safety of her Ladyship.” He swept his gaze over his cadre of officers. “As for me, I’ll circle around to the village of Vorshi. Procure Stefan’s yacht and sail back here. Since we’ve masked the ship’s markings and it appears as an ordinary fishing vessel, we’ll anchor off the promontory. A skiff will bring me ashore. I’ll then make my way up through the village and proceed on to the inn.”
“And at the inn?” Cyrek asked as his bushy eyebrows drew together.
“I’ll convince her Ladyship that she must accompany me out by boat,” he said then straightened. “Any questions?” he asked as he swept his gaze over his men.
With a shake of their heads, they responded, “No, Sir.”
Niko nodded then continued. “Once you have quietly rounded up the rebels, you and Major Hondros will escort Her Ladyship’s entourage to Ksamilli. The following morning, you will proceed to Berat where we’ll meet you outside the city in the field across from the public market.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Cyrek snapped him a salute. “Rest assured the men guarding our future Queen will protect her with their very lives.”
“I know,” he said, returning the salute. The men in his command were seasoned veterans who had served together, like he and Cyrek had, for over ten years. With men like these, what inevitably went wrong was halted before it became a problem.
Chapter Two

Belle frowned as she took a deep breath of fresh night air wafting through the partially opened balcony door. The rain had stopped a short time ago but still there was no sign of either King Stefan or their brother. She worried her bottom lip. Had the men been unavoidably detained by weather? Or had the King had a change of heart?
A ray of hope filled Belle for a moment then dimmed as wisps of uncertainty surged through her once again. If the King had changed his mind then would Rita be free to follow her heart and marry Tony? But how would Edward handle that setback in his quest to regain the family’s inheritance?
The thought of their brother brought a renewed wave of trembling, the like of which had seized Belle earlier in the day when she’d first agreed to impersonate her sister. If Edward discovered they’d switched places, Belle knew she would be promptly shipped back to England and hastily married to Umberford, something she definitely didn’t want. She grasped the doorframe, realizing that now wasn’t the time to go all weak in the knees with suppositions. She had to remain strong…to bravely forge ahead and see things through for her twin. She owed Rita too much to do anything else.
Her sister’s strong gardenia scent closed around her and Belle turned to note her twin wore a light blue lace peignoir as she entered the sitting room and went to bank the fire.
“You coming to bed soon?” Rita asked as she replaced the fire screen and turned to face her.
“I’m really not that tired,” Belle replied, managing to conceal her yawn as she dipped her head and waved a hand at the open book of Aristotle’s Greek Philosophy setting atop a table beside where she sat. She’d abandoned the book earlier because she’d been too worried about their brother’s nonappearance at the inn. She stared at the table where her reading glasses lay atop her book. Then she rubbed the bridge of her nose as she decided to remain silent with her concerns about their brother’s continued absence. Rita had enough to worry about becoming Queen. She didn’t need her misgivings added to the mix. “I plan on reading for a while yet,” she said lifting her chin.
“Surely, you’re not still having those old nightmares are you?” Rita asked as she wiped her hands on a cleaning cloth and tucked it out of sight on the mantle.
Belle shook her head, not about to tell her sister the truth about something she should’ve outgrown long ago. Lifting her spectacles, she placed them on her nose. Then opened the book to her marked place, she gathered it up in her hands. “Piffle,” she forced herself to say. “Haven’t had one of those in years.”
“Really?” Rita asked crossing toward her and rapping her knuckles on the spine of the book. “If I was reading that drivel, I would’ve been asleep long ago.”
Belle felt her lips curve upwards. “Obviously, you hold a vast disdain for my choice in reading material,” she said as she waved it teasingly under her sister’s nose. “Therefore, I won’t bother to offer you anything to read.”
“What an ungrateful wretch you are!” Rita said as she placed the back of her hand dramatically against her forehead. “Oh, and that’s all the thanks I get for everything I’ve done for you?”
Belle laughed enjoying Rita’s playful mood. “All right, I won’t be such an ingrate,” she said then smiled as she held her hands up as if in surrender. “I relent. You may borrow my copy of Culpepper’s Complete Herbal.”
“Ooh, goody!” Rita said clapping her hands, “your kindness overwhelms me.” Belle watched as a sly smile danced across her twin’s face. “But thanks, I’ll pass on that. However, if you were to offer me a Minerva novel then I would gladly stay up all night and read.”
Belle chuckled at her twin’s teasing remark. For unlike her, Rita had never been ridiculed for being a bluestocking. Her sister had too much zest for living to ever be considered serious-minded. Belle sighed, wishing she could be more spontaneous like her sister. “How well I remember those nights,” she said as a sudden breathlessness forced her to turn back to the balcony. They had been so carefree those days before their parents….
“If you’re worried about meeting the King, then don’t be,” Rita said, quietly.
The potency of Rita’s scent and the swish of her night robe gliding across the floor forced Belle into opening her eyes. She studied Rita’s reflection in the glass pane.
“We’ll wear our matching blue habits tomorrow,” Rita said as she stopped beside her. “If I like him, I won’t have my sneezing fit. You can pass the brooch to me and I’ll put it in my pocket. When he asks about it, I’ll put it on. Then things will be as Edward and Queen Victoria have decreed.”
Belle touched the diamond and sapphire brooch pinned on her spencer. King Stefan had sent it to Rita as an engagement gift. “But, what if… you don’t… like him? What then?”
“I’ll need a day or two more to resign myself to the idea of marrying him… again. This time with all the pomp and spectacle necessary in a royal wedding,” Rita said. “The extra time will allow me to settle into that mindset and then things will go back to normal.”
Belle nodded, uncomfortable with the idea they would be cutting it extremely close in switching back. She was forced to admit that she seriously doubted things would ever be normal for either one of them again. Taking a deep breath, she pasted a smile on her lips and moved toward the fireplace. “So, you really do intend on switching back and marrying the King?”
“Of course I do,” Rita gave a small laugh as if that settled everything. “I just need a day or two to get into my role.”
Belle exhaled a whoosh of air and straightened. “Then it’s off to bed for you. After all, we can’t have our future Queen looking all pale and sickly when she meets her new husband for the first time.” Looping her arm through Rita’s, she walked her toward the bedchamber door.
“That reminder is bound to keep me tossing all night,” Rita mumbled, slipping her arm free. “Maybe, I should snatch that book from you after all.”
“Don’t you dare,” Belle chuckled as she opened the bedchamber door. “I’m not about to share my most cherished tome with you, even if you promise me the moon.” She leaned toward Rita. “Besides, how else am I to ever fall asleep myself without my book?”
“You do know what they say about plans?” Rita said, her tone silky as she swept into the dimly lit bed chamber.
Belle frowned as a frisson of uncertainty slid through her. “You mean, that they often go astray?”
“Always, sweet sister,” Rita chuckled as she turned to face her. “You can count on it.”
Belle felt her breath hitch in her throat. Then with a shake of her head, she gave Rita a quick hug. “Night,” she called softly before closing the door, surprised that for once she’d gotten the last word with her twin.
She smiled then sobered as she made her way back toward the chair positioned near the fireplace. A tightness squeezed her chest. She would miss Rita when she returned to England. But leave she must. Edward had arranged for her to marry his good friend, the Duke of Umberford. She was to be a mother to his five children. Although she felt ill-equipped to take on that role, did she really have any other choice? After all, family had always come first for her. Especially after she had been the cause of their parents’ deaths.
A heaviness settled in her chest as she stared into the dying flames. No matter what she did, she knew it would never be enough to counteract the part she’d played in their deaths. Fearing the black hole threatening to engulf her at the thought of her selfishness, she hurried toward the balcony. Slipping through the doors, she crossed to the railing and gripped it. Then tilting her head back, she accepted the fact that while she might not be able to change the past, she could learn from it.
She gazed at the star-filled sky, studying the outline of the quarter moon. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the fresh air mingled with a hint of wisteria and citrus. Somehow, somewhere she needed to reconcile with the past and make peace with her soul. She sighed at the improbability of that as she peered into the vast heavens. Then she noted the rain had stopped. The moisture had nourished the parched earth. And she realized an expectant sense of waiting filled her as she brushed her hand along the balcony’s wet rail. Lifting her wet hand, she curled it into a tight fist. There were so many things she regretted in her life. Things she had failed to do, things she yet wanted to accomplish.
She closed her eyes as she thought of the list of wishes she’d written as a twelve-year-old. She’d read that list every night for the past seven years, knowing if she could only stand firm then she would find a way to make it up to her siblings for her failures. That is, she had until she and Rita had been summoned to Windsor this past Eastertide. She clenched her jaw as she recalled the audience with the Queen. After their royal appearance, all of her dreams had vanished like smoke. She had come to understand that she wasn’t the master of her own fate. In fact, she realized she had never been a master but merely her brother’s puppet.
She hardened her jaw at the thought. She hadn’t asked for anything outlandish in her life. Why couldn’t she travel to the places she’d read about? Or meet and marry a man she’d fallen in love with? Or have the opportunity to fulfill the burning need pulsing inside her to help those in need?
Opening her eyes, Belle swiped at the lone tear trickling down her cheek. She stared down at her tightly balled fists resting on the rail. She wanted to tilt back her head and howl out her frustrations at the quarter-moon but knew she wouldn’t. For she was sure to wake everyone. And then she would have to explain her actions. Taking a steadying breath, she began counting the wet stones glistening in the moonlight in the street below, hoping to regain her composure. She balled her fists, not about to give further credence to her self-pity. She would find a way to fulfill her dreams she vowed. Scanning the lane leading into the village, she lifted her gaze to study the small hamlet.
The double-storied structures cast their long dark shadows over the rain-slick cobblestones below. A movement caught her attention. Narrowing her gaze, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, wishing she had kept her glasses on so she could observe the furtive black shape slipping from doorway to doorway in the village below. She frowned then shrugged as the figure edged up the hill toward the inn. She wondered about the furtive figure’s purpose. Perhaps he was an example of what Aunt Ellie termed a ‘bumblebee’. A man who flitted from woman to woman gathering nectar but never permanently settling down with any one woman. When she had been younger she had thought it was the woman’s fault a man acted like that but lately she’d changed her mind as gossip had reached her about her own brother’s amorous reputation.
Belle frowned as the dark figure disappeared from sight, the shadows seeming to swallow him whole. She waited for a few more moments but when nothing stirred, she backed into the sitting room and closed the balcony doors.
Moving to the fireplace, she glanced back at the door then sighed. Whatever the man was up to, it was no concern of hers. Unlike a woman, a man had the right to be out and about at any time of the day or night, doing whatever he wanted. She took a quick breath and sighed. She wondered what it must feel like to have that kind of freedom.
***
Niko pulled his hat over his ears. Settling into the doorway of the stables below the Black Swan Inn, he waited for Cyrek to join him. All he had to do was cross the courtyard, scale the wall to the balcony where his cousin’s bride-to-be had conveniently left a light on in the sitting room. Then he had to convince her the threat she faced was deadly. And that she needed to leave with him in the dead of night, board the royal yacht and sail up the coast and disembark in the secured area. Realizing the probability of her cooperation ran slim to none, he took a deep breath. Although he hated subterfuge, not only her life and that of her entourage but also the lives of his men depended upon secrecy. Therefore, though he might want to stride up to the door of the inn, demand entrance, and state that he had come to rescue his cousin’s bride, he knew he had to suppress that straightforward inclination and stick to the furtive plan.
He glanced at the garments he’d worn while in the field with his men. Along with his cape, his serviceable plain trousers tucked into his Hessians showed the mud spots he’d brushed away. And somewhere in his travels today he’d lost the button that closed the high standing collar of his coat. To him, there was nothing about his scruffy attire that made him appear the least bit ‘princely’. But others might not agree with him he realized as he studied the muted embroidered insignia sewn on the cuff of his coat.
“Having second thoughts about that coat?” Cyrek asked as he joined him in the doorway. “If so, we can exchange garments. Though small, that Royal emblem sewn on your cuff could cause a problem. My clothing will draw less attention.”
Niko nodded, knowing his second in command was right. The dangers he faced while getting her ladyship to Berat then safely slipping her into the palace would be enough of a challenge. He needed to pay extra attention to details in order to conceal their identities. “To ensure we travel incognito,” he said quietly. “Let’s do this.”
“More than that, consider your own safety, Your Highness,” Cyrek whispered. “Appearing as an ordinary citizen will not only grant you anonymity but safety as well.”
Niko paused for a moment then smiled wryly as he removed his cape. “You mean, I’m also to forget shaving and add a bit of grime as we travel?”
“It’s a suggestion. It would keep you both safe from the rebels who want to prevent the royal marriage,” Cyrek said, slowly pulling off his cape.
Niko nodded. “Your idea has merit. However, how do you think Her Ladyship will feel when she discovers I’ve lied to her about who I am?” he asked as he began to unbutton his coat. “I had hoped I might be friends with my cousin’s wife.”
“Introduce yourself as Colonel Orsini,” Cyrek said. “Tell her that you’ve been sent to see to her safety, which in fact is what you’ve been sent to do. Just don’t mention your connection to the King. If she doesn’t know who you are, then she can’t reveal your identity.”
“Good point,” Niko said shrugging out of his coat, “but will the half-truth be plausible enough for her to accompany me without arousing her suspicion?”
“I don’t see why not,” Cyrek replied removing his short coat. “You are in fact, Colonel Nikolai Orsini. You did earn your rank defending the country.” He held out his plain coat and cape. “Besides, it’s been my experience that people seldom question what is presented to them as fact.”
Niko nodded. “You might be right,” he said as they exchanged garments. “If I’m to be the Colonel then you, my friend, are now the Prince, Supreme Military Commander of Barovian Forces,” he said as he began to thread his arms through the borrowed coat sleeves. “Our country’s defense now rests in your capable hands.”
Cyrek bowed then straightened. “I’ll defend the Crown with my very life,” he pledged, his hand over his heart.
“I know and I commend you for the noble service you are about to render,” Niko said as he donned Cyrek’s cape and gave him a mock bow. He grinned as Cyrek returned the gesture.
“I’ll see you in two days,” Cyrek said. “And if you’re not at our rendezvous point, I’ll come looking for you.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Niko said then darted across the open courtyard to the walled area behind the inn. As friends, their motto had always been, ‘Leave none behind’.
Scaling the wall, he moved along the ledge at the top until he reached the wisteria covered trellis. Climbing to the second floor, he swung his leg over the balcony and hoisted himself over. Straightening, he peered through the glass pane at the profile of the woman sitting in an armchair before the fire. Although the winged chair blocked most of his view, he noticed that graceful long fingers held a heavy book. He frowned. Was his future Queen a bluestocking? Then he felt his mouth twitch into a grin. Stefan would have his hands full with a learned woman who liked to do more than sew samplers.
He swept his eyes past her ivory complexion enhanced by high cheekbones. The hints of auburn threaded through her chestnut colored hair that was bound in a chignon caught his gaze. Personally, he preferred women with long flowing raven locks, but then he knew the Council wasn’t as discriminating. He stared at the woman then paused. Red hair usually denoted a fiery nature and although he liked a woman with grit, he couldn’t abide a bossy, opinionated one. So, what exactly would his future Queen be like? Would she blow hot because of her hair color ... or cold because of her position?
She must’ve felt his perusal because she turned and placed her spectacles on the small table positioned by the chair. Then she glanced toward the balcony. Her mouth popped open as she spied him through the glass. Her book slid to the floor as she sprang from the chair and backed toward the banked fireplace.
Mobilized into action, Niko flung the door open and strolled into the room as the beauty grabbed an andiron from the fireplace and waved it at him.
“You’ll be extremely sorry if you come any closer,” the fragile beauty said in a high-pitched voice.
Quickly, Niko swept her a regal bow and straightened. “My Lady, I had no intention of frightening you,” he said then flashed her a smile. “Colonel Niko Orsini at your service,” he added as he clicked his heels together and bowed again.
“C-Colonel,” she stammered her voice but a whisper. “W-what brings you to my chamber at this time of night?”
Her free hand grasped the brooch she wore at her neck. The same brooch he knew his cousin had sent her. Then her hand dropped to join the one she’d wrapped around her make-shift club. Keeping a sizeable distance between him and her weapon, he nearly laughed aloud at her bravado. Although petite, she was made of sterner stuff than he’d imagined. “His Majesty sent me to rescue you from the rebel forces camped outside the village,” he said. “If we hurry, we can be away before they realize we’ve fled.”
“R-rebels?” she gasped, her full lips revealing even white teeth.
“That’s right,” he began then paused as he noticed her high cheekbones had suddenly paled. “Surely you knew?”
“N-not about rebels,” she whispered.
“Then pray be seated,” he invited gesturing toward the brocade chair in front of the fireplace. Even though he knew they didn’t have a lot of time, if his explanation convinced her that it was safe to go with him, then the time wouldn’t be wasted. “I will be brief, Your Ladyship,” he said then paused as he watched her shiver. “Would you like for me to restart the fire?” he asked although he hoped that she would refuse.
“No,” she squeaked. She shook her head then propped the andiron against the side of her chair. “That won’t be necessary.” She waved her petite hand as if inviting him to proceed. “Just tell me about the rebels.”
“As you wish,” he bowed in acceptance, grateful to see she’d not only regained some of the color in her petal soft cheeks but had set aside her weapon. He took a few steps away then pivoted. There was no easy way to start so he figured he might as well jump right in. He took a bracing breath. “As you have probably surmised, the rebels are being held off by the King’s troops surrounding the inn.” He paused…at least he hoped she realized that fact.
“But I haven’t heard a single shot fired,” she said, her brow delicately furrowed in apparent disbelief.
“That’s because they haven’t attacked us yet,” he replied, quickly.
“What are they waiting for?”
Pleased that she grasped the peril of their situation, Niko squared his shoulders. “We believe that they either do not know you have arrived or they’re waiting to trap you here with His Highness.”
“You think they’re here because of me?” she gasped, her hazel eyes almost too large for her delicate face.
Niko hesitated not sure telling her the full extent of the situation was wise but then he shrugged. She deserved to know the whole truth. Or at least as much of the truth as he was willing to give, came the unbidden thought. He gave an imperceptible nod. “They’re here to stop your marriage. If they can do that, the chances are Barovia will lose the support of the British Government and King Stefan will be deposed.”
“Is this country so fragile that it depends upon me to prop it up?” she asked with a frown.
“It’s not necessarily… fragile,” he hedged. “I would say we’re more in a state of… transition.”
“Why?” She asked, shaking her head. “Why transition?”
He stared at the petite woman in front of him, amazed that he was having such a political discussion with her. Most women he knew would’ve fainted at the very thought of being surrounded by rebels but instead, this one sat challenging him for answers. “The rebels maintain that King Otto of Greece is the rightful Sovereign of Barovia but Austria-Hungary claims Emperor Francis Joseph is Supreme Ruler. Yugoslavia declares King Obrenovic is the King here. While the Church of Rome, the Elder Council, and the late King himself all proclaimed Prince Stefan Garaini is the rightful King,” he said.
“What do the people say?” she asked as he watched her thick lashes sweep down across her high cheekbones.
Niko took a deep breath. “Most support King Stefan but-”
“Those who do not, have become rebels,” she finished for him.
“Not all,” he hedged, “some haven’t made up their minds yet.”
“And these rebels have guns,” she mused.
“And dynamite,” he added.
She nodded. “And they want me gone.”
“They do want you gone,” he agreed.
“Okay,” she said rising and beginning to pace in front of the fireplace. “If I accompany you, what happens to my people left behind here at the inn?” She halted in mid-stride and swung around to face him. “I won’t abandon them to danger,” she paused, straightening her regal shoulders, “just because you think I need to decamp for my safety.”
“Your Ladyship,” he bowed, “surely you do not believe that King Stefan would desert anyone in such danger? Especially not, when he is rounding up all the rebels at dawn,” he added.
“Oh!” she whispered. She glanced at the floor then raised her eyes to his. Her hazel eyes reminded him of a trusting doe. “Although I have never met His Highness, I would hope that he would always protect those in his care.”
“That he does,” Niko assured her, “with his very life.”
“Good,” she nodded, seemingly satisfied with his explanation of the situation. “But if he’s coming at dawn, why must I go with you?”
“He wants you safely away from the action,” Niko replied.
“I don’t like splitting away from my entourage,” she said again. “Are you sure my people will be safe?”
“Most assuredly,” he replied.
“What does King Stefan wish for me to do?”
Niko paused, surprised by her willingness to comply. Maybe the Elderly Council had known a thing or two when they had selected her to be their Queen. “The King wishes you to accompany me to the quay, where we’ll board his royal yacht, and sail along the coast to Vorshi where we will rejoin him and your entourage tomorrow evening.”
“And you think embarking tonight will be of benefit?” she asked, her slender white neck bowed.
“Most certainly,” he nodded.
“I see.” Straightening, she clasped her white-knuckled hands in front of her. “And if I do this, will it save my retainers from traveling over the rough sea?”
“Most assuredly,” he nodded. “They will travel by coach in the lap of luxury to our rendezvous point.”
She nodded and turned to him. “How do I know you are really the King’s man?”
“Open the door and ask your guards to step into the room,” he said.
She crossed to the door. As she opened it the two Royal Guards snapped to attention. “Gentlemen,” she said as they turned to her. “Do you know if this man is truly Colonel Nikolai Orsini?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison without a moment’s hesitation.
“And if he wants me to leave with him do you think those are the King’s orders?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they replied together.
“As you were,” she said, “and thank you,” she added before she closed the door. Turning back, she raised her chin. “Then I will accompany you.” Stepping to the side, she moved toward the bedchamber door. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll prepare a valise.”
Niko placed a firm hand on her arm, knowing he couldn’t permit her to delay any longer. “Your Ladyship,” he said then realized his mistake in touching her when he felt her quiver beneath his palm. Promptly, he withdrew his hand. “My Lady,” he said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper as he stepped away from her. He swallowed back his surprise at the unexpected jolt of heat he’d felt when he’d touched her. “I beg your forgiveness but we have no time for you to pack anything. If we’re to sail by midnight we must leave immediately. All you’ll need will be provided for you aboard the royal yacht.”
“I see,” she said slowly then turned her face away. “Then I do suppose there is no further reason for the delay.”
“None,” he said breathing a sigh of relief as he clicked his heels together one more time.
Lifting the train of her riding habit, Niko watched her place her hat on her head, tuck her gloves into her skirt pocket and loop the thin gauze trailing veil around her wrist. Crossing to the balcony, he watched her step to the rail, hoist her leg over, turn and lower herself over the railing. Suddenly, she disappeared from sight. He blinked in surprise. The last thing he’d seen was the gamin smile spread across her luscious lips, the animation of her character enchanting him.
About to call out ‘a lady always exits through a door’, Niko resisted the impulse and hurried to the balcony. He grinned as he climbed down the trellis and caught up with her as she began crossing the flat, narrow strip at the top of the wall. Amazement filled him as he realized his future Queen had a strength at odds with the slenderness of her body. A strength that didn’t in anyway lessen her femininity.
He grinned then called softly as he observed her approaching the drop-down point. “Please wait,” he called then observed her hesitation. The moon bathed her delicate features in a soft glow. One finely arched brow hovered in question as she peered at him from over her shoulder.
Leaping to the cobblestone path below, he reached up and slipped his hands around her trim waist. “Now, Your Ladyship,” he said, lifting her from the wall in a smooth, downward motion. Her soft curves seemed to mold to the contours of his body as he lowered her down his torso. Surprise coursed through him as his eyes came level with hers and he realized how much his future Queen had charmed him.
Belle swallowed down the tight knot stuck in her throat as she noted her trembling limbs seemed to cling to the Colonel’s muscular frame, her body tingling from the contact. “You may put me down now,” she managed undecided if her reaction to him was the result of being unexpectedly lifted from the wall and then being held close to his masculine body or if extreme fatigue had set in and scrambled her wits. She took a shallow breath, her heart hammering foolishly. “I-I hope I’m not too heavy for you,” she said, playfully peeking up at him through her lashes like she’d seen her sister, Rita do when she’d been flirting with Tony.
“Never,” he said, softly as his mint-scented breath swept across her heated cheeks. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she traced the line of his smiling lips with her eyes. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes as she inhaled the tantalizing essence of his masculine scent filtering through his citrus cologne.
Her eyes sprang open at the realization. A chill ran down her spine and she came back to reality as she was set on her feet. She gasped. What was she thinking? She was supposed to be the future Queen of his country. Rita was a promised woman. No matter what she might personally feel, she couldn’t act on the instant attraction she’d felt for the Colonel. She had to put others’ needs before her own. “Um-m,” she said, clearing her throat as she felt heat burn her cheeks. “Thank you, Colonel, but you can release me now.”
Belle watched as his lips curled as if he was on the edge of laughter. Then he seemed to hesitate. “My pleasure, Your Ladyship,” he murmured, finally withdrawing his hands from her waist.
“Thank you for your assistance,” she muttered forcing herself to move away from the rugged, vital power of the man. Regal-like, she tugged down her spencer to hide her trembling fingers in her riding skirt. If she didn’t get a grip on herself, she would likely give away Rita’s game. The thought caused her to stand ramrod straight. She tried to peek at the Colonel but knew she wasn’t ready to gaze into his cobalt blue eyes again. Truth to tell, she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready to face the Colonel again. One thing was for certain, Rita would have been furious with this cocky, confident man for touching her without her expressed permission.
“Anytime,” she heard the Colonel mumble, softly.
She gulped down her hesitation and turned. Gathering the train of her riding habit, she straightened like she knew Rita would when she was faced with a situation like this. Although for the life of her, Belle couldn’t understand why Rita didn’t like men who took command of a situation?
“We best be on our way,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.
She nodded, unable to glance any higher than his chin as embarrassment swept through her.
“Come, stay close,” he said as he turned away. As he set off down the road, she watched his powerful well-muscled body move in an easy grace across the wet stones.
Then quickly realizing her folly, she took a deep breath and hurried after him. She had wished for an adventure and now she had one. So why did she suddenly feel as if her entire world had been turned upside down?

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