A Prince at Last! Page 11

  To his surprise, Ariane came right up to him and hugged him. She grinned at his stunned expression. “It’s so good to see you again, Luc. I’ve always wanted a big brother.”

  Luc glared at the dowager queen who merely smiled back at him. “I thought we agreed not to tell anyone,” he reminded his grandmother.

  “Ariane isn’t anyone. She’s my granddaughter.”

  Luc shot a look at Etienne, who merely rolled his eyes as if to say it’s no use fighting these two.

  “Is that why you called for me?” Luc demanded. “Because Ariane is here for a visit?”

  “Because she and Etienne have something important to tell you.”

  “We have news regarding the extremist faction known as Rhinelanders for Annexation, or RFA,” Etienne said.

  Luc nodded. “I’m familiar with the organization.”

  “We’ve long suspected they had a plan to overthrow the monarch and the government here and annex St. Michel to Rhineland. As you know, my family does not approve of any such move and has made an official statement to that effect. But this group is very good at playing on the strong nationalistic feelings of my countrymen. They excel at bringing out the worst in people.”

  “I’m familiar with that type of modus operandi.” In his years at Interpol, Luc had dealt with various extremist groups who took violent action to have their agendas met.

  “We arrested two of the group’s leaders several weeks ago, but suspected that they were merely the front men for the organization. We had no idea who was really pulling the strings.”

  “And supplying the money,” Ariane added.

  “A great deal of money,” Etienne agreed. “We just arrested Berg Dekker when he returned to Rhineland earlier this morning.”

  “Berg Dekker?” Luc shook his head in amazement. “I’ve heard of him, of course. He’s a frequent target of the regional environmental groups because of his practices.” Luc had long wondered how Dekker got approval to use St. Michel River to ship his petroleum products to and from the North Sea. Other European countries had turned him down, citing his poor record in abiding by local shipping restrictions and his goal of putting profits above all else.

  Luc had never been in a position to question Dekker’s business dealings before. It was just hitting him that he now was. “What do you have on Dekker?”

  “Our authorities have been following an elaborate paper trail of hidden trusts and dummy corporations, following the money that Dekker took in and where it went. He illegally funneled a lot of it into the Rhinelanders for Annexation group. We also uncovered his plot to destabilize the economy of Rhineland to unseat the monarchy so that he could run as the country’s savior.”

  “How does this affect St. Michel?” Luc asked.

  “Luc is a bottom-line sort of man,” the dowager queen said apologetically.

  He glared at her. It stung his pride to have someone apologizing for his behavior.

  “That’s what will make him such a great king,” Ariane declared. “He’ll cut through all the cow dung and get right to business.”

  “Ariane!” The dowager queen fixed her with a disapproving look before cracking a slight smile. “A royal does not refer to cow dung.”

  Ariane was not intimidated. “Would you prefer I call it by one of its more vulgar names?”

  “I’d prefer you not mention it at all. Now where were we? Ah, yes, Etienne, you were about to tell us more about how this Dekker fellow relates to St. Michel.”

  “In addition to his plot to destabilize Rhineland, he also planned to move forward and annex St. Michel. At least that was his plan until he met with Queen Celeste.”

  “He met with Queen Celeste?”

  “So he claims. We have no proof that the meeting took place. But Dekker swears that Celeste came to him with an offer.”

  “I knew that woman was a hussy!” the dowager queen declared.

  “Not a sexual offer,” Etienne quickly clarified. “A business offer. Dekker says she promised him unlimited access to the St. Michel River in exchange for his supporting her infant son’s claim to the throne.”

  “Of all the nerve!”

  “Now, Grandmother…”

  “We have no proof,” Etienne reminded them. “Celeste denies the meeting ever took place. She claims that Dekker is merely trying to make trouble for her, to destabilize St. Michel just as he planned to destabilize Rhineland.”

  “I don’t believe a word she says,” Ariane declared. “Etienne and I came here today to warn you, Luc. To warn you about Celeste. She clearly plans on doing whatever it takes to put her baby son on the throne. Perhaps it’s time to tell her you are the rightful heir.”

  “If she’s as devious as you say she is, then she probably already knows. Which is why…”

  “Why what?” Ariane asked.

  “Nothing.” Luc shook his head. “It’s just that Juliet was suspicious of a few strange occurrences.”

  “What kind of strange occurrences?” Ariane demanded.

  Luc briefly told them about the falling gargoyle and the collapsing tent at the carnival. “Clearly not the work of a professional. If Celeste wanted me dead, there are definitely more effective ways of trying to assassinate me.”

  “Don’t underestimate her,” Ariane warned him. “Just because she’s been foolish so far doesn’t mean she won’t turn deadly at the drop of a hat.”

  “Or the drop of a crown. There’s a lot at stake for her,” Etienne said. “I agree with my lovely wife. Don’t underestimate Celeste.”

  “They’ve arrested Dekker!” Claude entered Celeste’s riverfront apartment and then collapsed on her red velvet settee.

  “Do stop hyperventilating, Claude.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Dekker was arrested the moment he returned to Rhineland this morning. It’s on all the news reports. They’re saying that he tried to overthrow the government.”

  “What government?”

  “In Rhineland.”

  “Then we’re fine. We’re not involved with the government of Rhineland.”

  “No, but we just negotiated a deal with Dekker a few days ago. He’s bound to tell the authorities that.”

  “He has. And I’ve already denied it.” She studied her perfectly manicured nails before giving Claude a reprimanding stare. “You really should learn not to panic. It’s not an admirable trait by any means.”

  “How could I not panic? The man we made an illegal deal with was just arrested.”

  “There was nothing illegal about our deal with him. And even if there was, no one else need know about it. The main problem here is Luc.”

  “Luc?” Claude was clearly bewildered.

  “Do try and keep up,” she told him tartly. “Luc is about to be named heir to the throne. We can’t let that happen.”

  “So we’re back to the plan of killing him?”

  Celeste sighed. “It would appear so.”

  “So how does this royalty thing work?” Luc voiced the question from his office chair.

  “Pretty well from my perspective,” Etienne answered from the chair across the room.

  They’d spent the past few hours reviewing the case against Dekker, going over the intelligence files Etienne had brought with him from Rhineland. Then Luc had brought out a bottle of fine brandy and the discussion had grown a bit more personal.

  “Yes, well you were born into the job, so to speak. And speaking of jobs, I suppose I’m going to have to find a new head of security soon. Damn.” Luc rubbed his forehead. “I really liked this job, this office.”

  “You could move the throne in here.”

  “The dowager queen would have a fit.”

  “She’s more resilient than you think.”

  “It’s not her resilience I’m worried about, it’s mine.” Luc jumped up and started pacing. “How do you manage to have a private life? You married a princess. But what about someone outside of the royalty business?”

  “Wait a moment, marrying Ariane was anyt
hing but a no-brainer. We certainly had more than our fair share of troubles.”

  “Yes, but she is a princess. She, like you, grew up in this world.”

  “Are you talking about marrying a commoner?”

  “I’m not talking about marriage at all.”

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  “Damned if I know,” Luc muttered, walking over to his window to stare down at the fountain where he’d kissed Juliet.

  “Do you have a certain woman in mind?”

  “All the time. She’s in my mind all the time.”

  “And you don’t think she’d be someone suitable?”

  “She’s very suitable. For me, Luc. But she wouldn’t just be getting involved with me. She’d be getting involved with the King of St. Michel.”

  “Involved but not married?”

  “I don’t know.” Luc shoved his free hand through his hair before taking another healthy swig of brandy. “I can’t seem to think very straight these days.”

  “I’ve had almost thirty years to become accustomed to my title,” Etienne said. “You’ve had what…a few weeks? Give yourself time.”

  “I’ve run out of time. The dowager queen told me tonight that the Privy Council will be approving my claim to the throne within the next forty-eight hours or less.”

  “Not much time left to get your thoughts in order.”

  When Etienne left a short while later, Luc returned to his desk, intending to clear up some outstanding paperwork. If someone else was going to take over this job, then he wanted everything in tip-top shape when they came in. Someone else sitting in his chair, at his desk. The thought irked him.

  Maybe he should bring the pieces of furniture with him to wherever it was that the king did his daily job. Luc wasn’t even sure what room in the palace it was. He should know that. As head of security, he no doubt did know it at one time. A time when he’d been a sane man with a fairly normal background. Until this king thing.

  He snapped another file folder closed, and, as he did so, something caught on the edge of the paper before slipping to the floor. Picking it up, he realized that it was the letter from his mother. Juliet must have left it here that morning she’d come to perch so seductively on the corner of his desk, the morning he’d first asked her to help him by giving him lessons on how to be a king.

  Read it Luc. He could almost hear Juliet’s voice. Read the letter.

  He tore open the envelope.

  To My Dearest Son,

  If you’re reading this letter it means Albert has already told you the facts about your heritage. I need to tell you the reasons, to tell you why I had to deceive you.

  I know you’re probably angry with me for never telling you who your biological father was, but I didn’t want you saddled with the stigma of illegitimacy. When Philippe’s parents told me that the marriage wasn’t valid because I was underage, something inside me just crumbled and withered. Perhaps I should have been stronger, perhaps I should have done things differently.

  I can only say that I have always loved you, from the second the nurses put you in my arms. Know that you are and always will be my beloved son, the light of my life. And please forgive me.

  Your loving mother.

  The last few words were a bit smeared, as if they’d got wet at one point. Had his mother cried as she wrote the letter?

  Something inside him, an invisible inner wall, cracked—allowing a trickle of emotion through. His fingers clenched around his empty brandy glass as he stared at the letter until his eyes burned. My dearest son…you are and always will be my beloved son…your loving mother. The words shifted and blurred.

  A muscle in his jaw clenched. His mother had died without ever knowing her marriage to Philippe was indeed legal. The injustice of it all hit him with the power of a fist.

  “Luc?”

  For one fleeting instant, he thought the tentative woman’s voice was that of his mother. He blinked before identifying her. The dowager queen.

  “Are you all right?” She came forward into his office.

  “Why?” He drilled her with his fierce gaze. “Why did you tell my mother the marriage wasn’t valid?”

  “Ah.” She slipped into a nearby chair, looking as old as her years for the first time. “I was wondering when that would hit you.”

  “She left me a letter.”

  “I see.” Her face seemed to age even more. “And did she curse me in it?”

  “No.” Luc’s harsh voice caught. “She asked me to forgive her.”

  “And do you?”

  He paused a moment before nodding. He could forgive his mother now that he’d read her words.

  “Good. But now you’re not sure about forgiving me, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “Ah, Luc. I wish I could tell you how it was. Katie’s father was only a middle-management employee of an American corporation. They had no money and no social standing. Three decades ago, that was a major thing. Her father was here in St. Michel on business for three months. Katie had plenty of time to explore the area. She met my son, and they fell in love. She became pregnant, and, without telling anyone beforehand, they went to France and were secretly married in a civil ceremony.

  My husband, King Antoine, told Philippe that the marriage wasn’t valid because Katie was only seventeen. I didn’t know whether that was true or not. But in my mind, King Antoine was the absolute ruler, the final word on any subject. If he said it wasn’t valid, it wasn’t valid. King Antoine also informed Katie’s father that if they told anyone about this scandalous affair, he would pressure her father’s employer to fire him. The king gave Katie’s father a substantial sum of money, without her consent or approval. I’ll never forget the look on her face as her father whisked her away.”

  The dowager queen had to pause to regain her composure before continuing. “Do I wish that we hadn’t interfered in our son’s life? Without a shadow of a doubt. I believe that Philippe spent the rest of his life trying to find the kind of love he shared with Katie and that he went to his grave loving her.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “I wish we had brought Katie home to the palace with us, that I’d been there to hold you when you were born, to lavish you with attention as I did my granddaughters while they were growing up. But I wasn’t. I can’t undo the past, Luc. I can only look ahead to the future. Your future. The King of St. Michel’s future.” She held out her thin elegant hand, wrinkled with age. That’s when Luc realized that the lavish diamond King Antoine had given her was no longer sparkling on her left finger.

  “Where’s your ring?” His voice sounded rusty even to his own ears.

  “I put it in the vault. I no longer choose to remain tied to my husband and the bad choices he made and I went along with. I want to make a new start. Granted, seventy-something might be a tad late to start fresh, but I’m game if you are. What about it, Luc? You told me that I should try asking instead of ordering. So here I am.” Her outstretched hand trembled and her laser-blue eyes were filled with deep-seated pain and uncertainty. “Asking…no…begging you for forgiveness and the chance to start anew.”

  Luc took her hand in his. A second later he was around the desk, kneeling before her with his arms around her surprisingly slight frame.

  “Welcome home, my boy.” He could almost hear his mother’s voice repeating his grandmother’s refrain. Welcome home, Luc. Welcome home, my dearest son.

  Chapter Ten

  Juliet was up with the sun the next morning, taking an early-morning walk in the palace gardens to clear her mind. She hadn’t been able to sleep much at all last night. The erotic memory of Luc’s lovemaking had kept her awake—her body still thrumming from the unresolved passion of their heated embrace.

  She’d always been a firm believer in waiting until after marriage before giving her virginity to the man she loved. That resolve had never been tested before, not even with Armand. But Luc was different. He had a way of overwhelming her common sense and going right to her
heart.

  The fact that she was intensely attracted to him wasn’t the reason they’d almost made love yesterday. Hormones alone didn’t rule her actions, love did. And that potent combination had proven too powerful to resist.

  What would have happened if the kittens and her sister hadn’t interrupted them? Would Luc have made love with her? Did he know she was a virgin? Would that matter to him? It wasn’t anything they’d ever discussed, not being a topic that was easy to include in everyday conversation.

  Juliet had no doubt that Luc was accustomed to women with more sexual experience than she had. But that hadn’t seemed to bother him yesterday. He’d groaned with pleasure when she’d returned his kisses. His hard body had throbbed with desire for her. His voice had been husky with need as he’d whispered in her ear, and his blue eyes had blazed down at her with smoldering passion.

  The memory alone was enough to make her weak at the knees. As she sank onto one of the rustic benches lining the winding path, she tried to distract herself by focusing on her surroundings. It promised to be another gorgeous late-spring day, with only a few billowy cumulus clouds to add a bit of interest to an otherwise intensely blue sky. Not the blue of Luc’s eyes, however. They were darker than sky blue. She’d long ago given up trying to put an exact color on them—they were simply his eyes and they were awesome because they were his.

  Her gaze wandered over the gardens themselves. The irises were almost through blooming and the rest of the roses were about to burst into color. With their fragrant blossoms and beautiful displays, they were a favorite of hers. Climbing roses in a delicious shade of apricot clambered alongside deep purple clematis over the ten-foot arbor surrounding her.

  It was so peaceful here. Birds chirped as they hopped from branch to branch on a nearby tree. A huge bumblebee droned lazily right over her head as it meandered from flower to flower. Then Juliet heard something else, something not as serene as the natural symphony of the birds and the breeze rustling through the leaves. It sounded like someone softly sobbing.