Protecting the Princess (The Royals of Aldonia Book 2) Read online

  Well, Harriet simply wouldn’t allow it.

  Was she furious at Jacob? Absolutely. But her feelings toward him were too difficult to confront right now. And so she focused all her anger on Althea Furberg and what she had done to Christopher.

  The door to the library suddenly sprung open and, releasing a sigh, Harriet stepped out from behind the curtain. It wouldn’t take Althea long to find her, so there was little point in hiding.

  “Ah, Your Highness. There you are.”

  Althea had been like Harriet’s shadow for four days now and if the grimace on the lady’s face was anything to go by, she was as happy about that as Harriet was.

  “You do rise with the birds, don’t you?”

  Harriet merely scowled at her.

  She worried that Lady Althea was quite mad. All day, she twittered away to Harriet as though they were the closest of friends on a luxurious sojourn in the country.

  See? Harriet told herself. The worst kidnapping ever.

  “Your cousin has requested your company at breakfast, Princess.”

  Harriet didn’t miss the slight bite in Althea’s tone.

  That was another thing she’d noticed over the last few days. That while Lady Althea hung on Augustus’ every word, he spent all of his time ingratiating himself to Harriet, and Althea was not happy about it.

  Well, Harriet decided as she followed Althea from the room, she was done being a pawn in Tallenburg’s game with her brother.

  She wasn’t going to sit around here waiting for Christopher to send in the guard, which he would, just as soon as he received Tallenburg’s letter.

  The duke thought Christopher would be so scandal adverse that he would happily hand over the mine deeds for Harriet’s safe and secret return.

  But he didn’t know Christopher.

  He might be subtle. And sometimes overly concerned with reputation and public appearance.

  But he had a core of steel and would not give in to blackmail. That’s why he would make a wonderful king. Why he was already running Aldonia.

  The ladies swept into the ostentatious formal dining room and took their seats, either side of where the duke would sit at the head, as though he were sitting on a throne.

  The duke had delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy obsession with wealth. It would, Harriet was sure, be his downfall.

  And she wasn’t going to sit around waiting to be used in his dastardly scheme.

  She was getting out of there the very first chance she got.

  “He’ll be expecting capitulation, of that there is no doubt.”

  “Indeed. And an answer soon.”

  Jacob stood from the table at which he, Prince Christopher, Prince Alexander, and Hans were discussing the situation.

  The situation.

  That’s what Prince Christopher had called his sister being bloody well kidnapped.

  After Jacob had burst through the palace gates as though the hounds of Hell were chasing him and demanded to see the prince, it hadn’t taken them long to figure things out.

  Knowing that Lady Althea was Tallenburg’s informant must have been a blow to Prince Christopher. Everyone who worked for the palace, or who attended court, had assumed there would be an announcement soon.

  Yet the man had been stoic, caring only that the princess be returned safely and without scandal.

  The Furbergs had been questioned, but nothing had come of that except hysterics from the mother who had thought her daughter would be queen.

  For three days they’d investigated before finally discovering the property not far from Gant that had been bought by the duke using an alias.

  In the furore, nobody had made comment on the fact that the princess had been taken on Jacob’s watch. But once they got her back, he knew a reckoning was coming.

  And he deserved it.

  But he didn’t give a damn about his job. About the interrogation that was sure to come. About the uncomfortable questions he’d be forced to answer.

  All he cared about was Harriet. He wanted her back. Safely in his arms, even though she probably still hated him.

  She could hate him, though. Just as long as she was safe while doing it.

  “We’ve done enough talking,” He tried and failed to keep his tone even.

  And he knew by the shrewd look of both princes and the shaking of Hans’s head, that he was making his feelings more than obvious.

  “I just—” He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “I know that I am responsible. I let the princess go.”

  “And we will get her back.”

  This came from Prince Alexander, who had arrived at the palace while Jacob and Harriet had been in the cottage. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

  And while the younger prince was a lot more laid back than his older brother, there was no denying the fact that he was worried about his sister and wanted her safely returned.

  He’d also been watching Jacob closely for the last few days. Jacob didn’t know what the prince was looking for. All he knew was that it made him nervous.

  Prince Christopher had given no outward reaction to either the news that Harriet was gone, or that his intended was behind the kidnapping.

  He’d merely listened quietly to Jacob’s panicked ramblings before calling for Prince Alexander, and then Hans.

  Now they’d finally arrived at an inn near Tallenburg’s property, and instead of storming in there and grabbing Harriet, they were still sitting here discussing strategy.

  “Not by sitting here twiddling our thumbs, we won’t,” he snapped before he even realised what he was doing.

  But, hang it. He didn’t care about propriety or respect. Not when Harriet was trapped with that bastard Tallenburg.

  There was a moment of shocked silence before he groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Prince Christopher’s black eyes narrowed, and Prince Alexander suddenly burst into laughter.

  “Mr. Lauer.” He smirked, seeming completely uncaring about Jacob’s insubordination. “I think once Harriet is back, we should have a talk you and I.”

  Jacob’s cravat suddenly felt like a noose around his neck, but he resisted the urge to pull at it tellingly.

  “Before we get into that,” Prince Christopher said now, his tone low and calm as always. “And we will be getting into that—” His eyes flashed to Jacob’s, and there was that damned tightening in his cravat once more. “I need to decide what we’re doing.”

  Jacob sat back down reluctantly, drumming his fingers impatiently on the well-scrubbed wooden table around which they sat.

  “Tallenburg is expecting a reply from me. I think our best option is to send him a letter agreeing to meet. If he thinks he’s got the upper hand, it may make him overly confident.”

  “And what?” Jacob interrupted. “Allow him to use Harr—I mean, the princess, as bait? He could hurt her. He could have already hurt her.”

  Jacob’s stomach roiled at the idea, and the murderous feeling that had plagued him for the past few nights took hold once more.

  “He won’t hurt her.” Prince Christopher sounded far too relaxed for Jacob’s liking. Though when he looked up, both he and Prince Alexander were wearing matching, grim expressions.

  Nobody in this room knew what the duke was capable of. And that scared Jacob witless.

  “When you meet, what then?” Prince Alexander asked. “He’s hardly going to hand Harriet over to us without first having his hands on the deeds.”

  Prince Christopher smiled suddenly.

  “No, he won’t,” he agreed. “Because Harriet won’t be there.”

  Jacob was pleased to see that both Hans and Prince Alexander looked as confused as he felt.

  “Where will she be?” the younger prince asked.

  “If I write to Tallenburg today agreeing to an exchange, he’ll make sure that not a hair on Harriet’s head is touched,” Prince Christopher said. “The agreement is a guarantee that she’ll be kept safe.”

  “All right,” Prince Alexand
er nodded. “I still don’t understand.”

  “I’ll arrange a meeting for tomorrow,” Prince Christopher continued, “And we will be taking Harriet tonight.”

  Jacob’s eyes snapped up to the prince’s.

  “Yes,” he whispered his approval of the plan without even realising.

  “A stealth recovery of the princess?” Hans spoke for the first time. “Forgive me, Your Royal Highness, but two agents and two princes of the realm don’t exactly make for a subtle operation.”

  “Indeed.” Prince Christopher gave the ghost of a smile. “That’s why only one of us is going in.”

  “Me.”

  Jacob had jumped to his feet, his chair clattering on the flagstone floor of the private dining room in the process.

  Once more the princes exchanged a look.

  “No,” Prince Christopher said, shocking Jacob. “You are—too close to it.”

  His words let Jacob know, in no uncertain terms, that he knew this was way, way more than an assignment to Jacob.

  “Mr. Maylt, will—”

  “No.”

  Jacob’s objection brought a shocked cessation to the conversation.

  But he was past caring.

  When the full story of the last couple of weeks came out, he’d be exiled from Aldonia anyway. And nothing—not king, not country—would stop him from getting to the woman he loved.

  “My apologies, Your Royal Highness,” he said, even though he wasn’t a bit sorry. “I have no wish to countermand your orders.”

  He took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to confirm all the unspoken suspicions floating around the room. “But if you don’t send me in to get the princess, I’ll go in myself, either way.”

  Prince Christopher slowly came to his feet, followed by Prince Alexander, and finally Hans, who was staring at Jacob as though he’d run mad.

  Prince Christopher stared at Jacob, and Jacob stared right back. Refusing to back down. Refusing to show any sort of weakness in his position.

  The prince looked to his brother, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  Finally, he looked back at Jacob.

  “Well then.” The Crown Prince gave Jacob a look that seemed to go beyond that of a leader giving orders. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the leader of a country facing a crisis. He looked like a big brother worried about his sister. “Go get the princess.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You can do this, Harriet. You didn’t think you could run away by yourself, and look what happened.”

  Even though she was whispering to herself like a madwoman, she still feared that someone would hear her.

  Yes, look what happened, a voice in her head piped up. You didn’t even get out of the palace alone. And Christopher knew. The entire time.

  Right, well that was a bad example of her capabilities perhaps. But this—this she could do.

  Harriet took a steadying breath then leaned out the open window to peer at the ground below.

  It seemed a very long way down. And the tree that she was planning to use for her escape seemed a lot further away now in the dark of night than it had been earlier.

  But time was wasting. She knew it wouldn’t be long before a maid was sent to check on her, ostensibly to see if she required anything before she retired to bed for the night.

  It was a small window of opportunity she had. And she needed to take it or be used by Tallenburg in his dastardly scheme.

  The man had been salivating over Christopher’s letter earlier. A letter in which Christopher had agreed to meet to discuss the exchange.

  Harriet’s anger had burst forth as Augustus had crowed and Althea had fawned over him as though he were a god and not a petty, jealous little man.

  She wanted to scratch Althea’s eyes out.

  Instead, she’d pleaded a headache and retired to her rooms.

  A stiff breeze caught her stolen, dark servant’s cloak and sent it billowing about her shoulders.

  Harriet pulled it closer. The dull cloak was imperative to her plan. Should any guard catch sight of the ivory silk that Lady Althea had insisted on lending her, even though it was far too long, it would be like a beacon to the guards patrolling the gardens.

  If she could stay hidden beneath the voluminous cloak however, she could get herself to the walls at least. And hopefully a gate that led out of the grounds.

  Donning the cloak again had brought all sorts of memories rushing back to Harriet, and she’d found herself missing Jacob so much that the feeling was an acute pain.

  She didn’t want to miss him. She didn’t want to remember that he’d held her, and kissed her, and told her that she was brave and capable of anything. But her foolish heart wouldn’t be reasoned with.

  The clock on the mantle chimed the hour, and Harriet knew her time was fast running out.

  She’d have to reach out as far as she could, grab hold of the closest tree limb then swing herself into the branches.

  She’d either survive or fall to her death.

  If she did fall, her parents and her brothers would be devastated. The country would be plunged into chaos.

  She didn’t want to think about whether Jacob would care or not, fearing that the answer would be too painful.

  A small cluster of clouds that had been somewhat blocking the moon moved, and suddenly the tree and the grounds were illuminated by the coldly bright moonlight.

  Not giving herself any more time to wonder if she were mad, Harriet stepped onto the window ledge and reached toward the branch with one hand, the other clasping the window frame in a deathlike grip.

  Her fingers grazed the coarse surface of the tree branch, not quite gaining purchase.

  Harriet stretched further still.

  Just a tiny bit more…

  Suddenly, she lost her grip on the window frame and tipped forward.

  At the last moment, her hand wrapped fully round the limb of the tree and she swung her other arm up to grip it.

  Gasping in fright, Harriet hung for a heart-stopping moment before a survival instinct kicked in and she swung herself toward the relative safety of the tree trunk.

  She almost wept with relief as her feet found purchase on a sturdy branch.

  With her heart hammering loudly enough to be heard across the grounds, she scrambled further inward until she was pressed flush against the tree trunk.

  Her eyes were smarting and her breath was heaving.

  But she’d done it!

  This time, she’d really done it alone. With no help from Jacob, or Christopher, or Alex, or anybody.

  It had been ungainly and undignified. But ultimately successful.

  Now, to get her feet on solid ground.

  The process was long and arduous.

  Her cloak and hair snagged in twig after twig. Her skirts caught and she winced as she heard more than one tearing sound.

  And her hands, she knew, were covered in scrapes and scratches.

  But finally, after an age, Harriet got to the lowest branch and with one steadying breath, she jumped and landed with only a whispered “oomph” onto the blessedly sturdy ground below.

  Harriet bent forward, clasping her knees and dragging some much-needed oxygen into her burning lungs.

  She glanced up at the tree, hardly daring to believe that she’d managed to get down it. That she was free.

  She straightened up, pulling the hood of the cloak over her head and preparing to run across the grounds.

  Suddenly, a hand clamped around her mouth, another dragged her back against a large, rock solid body.

  Her attempts to scream froze and died in her throat as a familiar voice whispered furiously in her ear, the breath tickling her neck and sending gooseflesh all over her body.

  “I swear,” the voice growled. “If I ever catch you jumping out of windows and climbing down trees again, I will lock you in a tower, so help me God.”

  The hand from her mouth dropped to her shoulder, spinning her around to face Jacob’s fur
ious glare.

  “What—”

  Before she could speak another word, he pulled her close and bent his head, capturing her mouth in a ferocious kiss, and sending her thoughts skittering on the wind.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her.

  Of course, he hadn’t.

  This was neither the time nor the place.

  Yet when he’d spied her, hanging from a bloody window, Jacob had never felt fear like it.

  He’d been all set to get inside the house, get Harriet, and get out within thirty minutes. Maybe an hour, allowing for any potential run-ins with Tallenburg’s guards.

  Yet he’d stood at the base of that tree, unable to do anything other than watch in sickening apprehension, for eons.

  When she’d lost her grip on the damned window frame, he’d felt his legs give way and only sheer force of will had kept him upright, his eyes fixed on the beautiful, brave, insane woman scrambling for purchase on the bloody tree.

  Jacob had prayed, cursed, barely breathed, and almost cast up his accounts as he watched helplessly from the ground.

  The relief he’d felt when she’d reached the base had made him so light-headed, the world had actually spun for a moment before his anger, swift and fiery, had refocused his mind.

  Pulling her against him, he’d only intended to make her aware of his presence, to blister her ears for her folly, to assure himself that she was safe and real and in his arms.

  But the scent of her had teased his nostrils, and the feel of her soft, delectable curves, even through the voluminous cloak, had reminded him of all those days they’d spent together. It had been like an oasis in a desert to a man dying of thirst.

  And so, trembling with the remnants of fear as well as the desperate need that only she could evoke, he’d turned her in his arms and drunk his fill.

  And now, instead of getting her to safety, he was kissing the living daylights out of her on enemy territory.

  The stark reminder that she was still in danger dragged Jacob’s mind from the gutter in which it had planted itself and back firmly on the task at hand.