Princess Annie (39 page)

Phaedra and Mr. Barrett were lovers. Why hadn’t she guessed it before?

Rafael swore colorfully. “I ought to fling you right into this fountain,” he said, once he’d finished. “For what you’ve done to your hair alone.”

“It would be a sin to ruin a dress like this,” she said, with somewhat tremulous reason, “especially in these hard times.”

The prince began striding toward the keep again. In the middle of the great hall, Kathleen appeared, her expression frantic. Plainly, she thought Annie was being carried off to the whipping post or the rack.

“Where are you taking my mistress, sir?” that loyal and intrepid maid demanded, stepping in front of the prince and blocking his path.

“I haven’t decided,” Rafael replied acidly. “In any case, young woman, it’s none of your business.”

“Kathleen—” Annie pleaded.

“Oh, but it is, sir, begging your pardon,” Kathleen insisted, flushed but apparently undaunted. “Miss Trevarren and I are fast friends, and I can’t let you hurt her.”

“Hurt her?” Rafael echoed, plainly insulted. “Good God, woman, what gives you the idea that I would do Miss Trevarren or anyone else any harm?”

Kathleen swallowed visibly, and Annie marveled at her courage. “Well, sir, we keep fearing that your father’s blood will come out in you, you see. He was a mean one. Just have a look at that poor man in the infirmary, with all his scars, if you don’t believe me.”

Annie felt the impact of Kathleen’s words strike Rafael, felt him brace himself against it. He still made no move to set her down.

“I believe you,” he said, after a long and despondent sigh. “But I love this woman in my arms, God help me, and you may trust that I will subject her to nothing more than a blistering lecture.”

With that, Kathleen stepped aside, eyes lowered, and Rafael progressed up the staircase and along the passageway, headed in the direction of Annie’s room. Reaching that chamber, he climbed the steps to the dais and hurled her onto the bed, the dress billowing ridiculously around her.

Annie flailed her way to an upright position, watching as Rafael vaulted off the dais and strode toward the door adjoining Annie’s room to Phaedra’s. He stopped in the middle of the floor, clearly just remembering that his sister was gone from St. James Keep.

He turned. “I’ll find her,” he said. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll find them both and drag them back here to give an accounting!”

The look on Rafael’s face frightened Annie. She clambered awkwardly off the bed, damning the unwieldy dress in her thoughts and nearly tumbling from the dais in a heap. “Don’t you see,” she pleaded, “that it’s too late? Let them go with your blessing, Rafael.”

He rammed a hand through his hair. “How could you be a part of something like this? Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“I think so,” Annie said. “My best friend in all the world begged me to help her escape a marriage she didn’t want, and I did.” She raised her chin. “Furthermore, I’m not sorry, though I do regret the problems my deception caused you and poor Mr. Haslett.”

Rafael closed his eyes for a moment, his jawline taut, and Annie knew he was struggling to contain his temper. She certainly wished him every success in the endeavor.

At last, he spoke. “Pack your things, Annie. You’re leaving.”

The words struck Annie like so many stones, but she held onto her dignity with the last shreds of her strength. Between her near murder at the hands of Lieutenant Covington, the hanging of Peter Maitland, the fact that she was unmarried and pregnant, and the fraudulent wedding, she had exhausted her reserves.

“Come with me,” she said, forsaking her pride.

Rafael shook his head, gave her one last appraising look, and left the chamber, slamming the door behind him.

Annie got out of the accursed dress as quickly as she could and pulled on her trousers and shirt. Then she dashed down the back steps to find out what was happening.

She had to go no farther than the kitchen, where the servants had gathered to gossip about the grand events of the day. Tucked into a doorway, Annie learned that Rafael had sent soldiers after the princess and her paramour, but no one really expected them to be found.

Annie closed her eyes and offered a prayer that Phaedra and Mr. Barrett would make good on their escape. After all, they loved each other, and belonged together.

“This makes Mr. Barrett a traitor,” Cook pointed out importantly. “He’s gone and left the prince in his hour of need. Even love isn’t reason enough to do that.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the kitchen, then Kathleen spoke up, wide-eyed. If she’d seen Annie huddled in the doorway, she gave no sign of it.

“The prince is a reasonable man,” Kathleen argued. “Once he’s had time to cool his temper, he’ll see that Mr. Barrett meant him no disservice.”

Annie hoped that was true, but she wasn’t as certain as Kathleen sounded, and her heart ached for Rafael. He was surrounded by trouble, his enemies were at the door, and now he’d lost his closest and most trusted friend.

“It’s a dark day for the St. James family,” said Cook, with a shake of her head.

“The end can’t be far off,” someone else agreed. “I suppose I’ll be taking myself away before the fighting starts.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the other servants.

Full of sorrow, Annie turned, went back up the stairs to her room. After an arduous shampooing, her hair was almost back to its original color and she brushed it dry on the terrace. That done, Annie got out her bags and began to pack.

CHAPTER 20
 

C
handler Haslett decamped before the sun had set on his would-be wedding day, with an entourage of guards and relatives. The thwarted bridegroom, though politely asked, had refused to let Annie Trevarren travel with the company.

Watching the departure from one of the parapets, Rafael sighed. He couldn’t blame Haslett for being furious, for the man had been dealt a devastating blow and his pride was in tatters.

“Quite a day,” Lucian commented.

Rafael did not look at his brother, nor was he taken by surprise. Disasters, he’d discovered, tended to happen in tandem. “Yes. You warned me about Phaedra and Barrett. I should have listened.”

Lucian stood beside him, one foot braced against the crenel in the wall. “That’s something, I suppose,” he replied evenly. “At least she’s out of Bavia, or soon will be. Phaedra is safe with Barrett, after all.”

Rafael emitted a humorless chuckle. “Yes,” he agreed. “But is Barrett safe with our sister?”

Lucian smiled wanly at the question. “What will you do without him?”

For a moment, Rafael could not answer. He felt as though his right arm had been severed with Barrett’s leaving and yet, now that he’d had time to think, he was more charitably inclined. Barrett had tried to tell him that he loved Phaedra and he, Rafael, had not taken his friend’s declaration seriously. He’d been so certain that Barrett would see, as he’d seen, the impossibility of a union between a princess and a soldier.

“Perhaps it’s better that he’s gone,” the prince replied, at considerable length. “Why should Barrett hang beside me? Bavia isn’t his country, it’s mine.”

“Why indeed?” Lucian agreed. “What do you plan to do with Annie Trevarren, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Rafael met his half brother’s gaze. “I do mind,” he said. “But I’ll answer: I don’t know. Haslett’s ruffled dignity precluded Annie’s traveling with his party. There is a ship off the coast, but I wouldn’t trust anyone other than Edmund Barrett or her own father to get her safely aboard, and I can’t leave the keep long enough to do it myself.”

“Quite a conundrum,” Lucian remarked. “I don’t suppose you’ve considered me as an escort for the lovely Miss Trevarren?”

“I’d sooner consider the head of the rebel army,” Rafael answered pleasantly. “Which is not to say that you shouldn’t leave on your own. Your dislike for me won’t save you from them, Lucien.”

“Is it too late to prove myself a loyal and repentant sibling?” There was a familiar, wheedling note in Lucian’s voice that struck a painful chord in Rafael, reminding him of the little boy Lucian had once been. Rafael had been fond of that child, though, like Phaedra, he had not known him well.

“Yes,” Rafael said. “It is.”

Lucian was silent for a few moments, watching the sunlight dance and play on the sea. “So be it,” he said finally. Then he turned and walked away, leaving Rafael to his vigil.

Annie waited in her chambers for a summons, trunks and bags packed, but none came. Finally, at eight that evening, Kathleen appeared, bringing a supper tray. The maid’s eyes were downcast as she brought the food to the small table situated near the fireplace and set it down.

“I suppose you’re angry with me, too,” Annie said, feeling uncommonly lonesome.

Kathleen looked up. “Angry? Oh, no, miss. But I’m afraid for you, right enough. The rebels won’t wait long now, and they’re not such poor soldiers as you might think from what happened the first time they attacked the keep. They’re inside the walls already, in numbers that would surprise you.”

Annie glanced at the food Kathleen had brought without appetite. She dreaded eating, but knew she must, for the sake of her child. No doubt in coming days, she would be called upon to do other things she did not want to do as well, in order to protect the baby.

She sat down at the table and gestured for Kathleen to join her.

“Were they waiting for the wedding to be over?” she asked.

Kathleen took the second chair. “Some of them were invited guests, miss,” she said sadly. “People who call the prince friend, or cousin.” She paused. “Or brother.”

Annie had been pouring tea for herself, but she set the small china pot down with a thump. “Do you mean Lucian is …?”

Kathleen reached out a firm hand and stopped Annie from bolting to her feet. “No need to hurry off to the prince with the news,” she said. “His Highness has known the truth for a long time.”

“Damn Lucian,” Annie whispered, feeling the sting of his betrayal even though it had never been directed at her.

“He’s a rotten apple, all right,” Kathleen conceded, “but you can’t judge the rest of the rebels by him. They’re ordinary folk, for the most part, like Tom Wallcreek.” At the mere mention of that man’s name, the maid flushed bright pink.

Annie’s heart did a skidding lurch, then righted itself. She’d been right, then—the maid was enamored with Tom. Was there more to it than that?

“Kathleen, are you one of them?”

“No,” was the earnest answer, and Annie believed it. “But they’re going to win, miss, and their leader’s put a price on the prince’s head. He’ll hang, they say, before the month is out.”

In her mind’s eye, Annie saw Peter Maitland’s slender figure standing on the scaffold, watched him fall through the trapdoor. It was only too easy to imagine Rafael meeting the same fate.

She pushed her chair back a little way, unable to touch her food, and put her hands to her face. “Dear God, Kathleen, what am I going to do?”

Kathleen answered with conviction. “You must tell the prince about his child,” she said. “I know you wanted to do it in a certain way, miss, but the fact is, the right moment may never come.”

Annie rose slowly to her feet and nodded. “Yes,” she murmured. “I’ll tell him. Now.”

“God go with you,” Kathleen said gently.

After some searching inside the castle, Annie ventured out into the courtyard and saw Rafael on the parapet. Still wearing her trousers and shirt, she climbed nimbly up the stone stairway and walked along the battlement until she reached his side.

“Has my ship sailed?” she asked.

He engaged in a somewhat bitter smile. “Yes. But I still haven’t abandoned hope that your pirate of a father will arrive and take you away from here.”

“You might have more to fear from Patrick Trevarren than the rebels,” Annie said, her voice shaking a little. “He’ll want you to do right by his daughter.”

Only then did Rafael turn his head to look at her. “There can be no denying that Patrick will be furious when he learns I’ve deflowered such a prize. Let us hope, for your sake, that he gets to me before my own countrymen do.”

Annie bit her lower lip, then blurted out, “I’ve heard rumors that they’re already within the keep’s walls. The rebels, I mean.”

Rafael nodded. “There can be no doubt of that.”

“And Lucian—”

He held up a hand. “Yes, I know that my brother is a Judas. Please spare me another hearing of the fact.”

Annie could no longer avoid what she’d come to say, and it nearly destroyed her, having to use otherwise wonderful news as a club. She held her breath for a moment, like a swimmer about to plunge into freezing water, then spilled the jumbled contents of her heart.

“I’m going to have a child.”

For a moment, Rafael looked as he might have done if Annie had pushed him right off the parapet. He said nothing at all for the longest time, and for Annie the world stopped turning, the stars fizzled, and the sun and moon dissolved to dust.

“Surely you’re mistaken,” he finally muttered.

Annie shook her head.

“The fainting spells …?”