The Stolen Princess (36 page)

She'd asked just one thing of him: protect her boy.

He'd failed her. He'd failed Nicky. And he'd failed himself.

There was no chance she would ever love him now. Her couldn't blame her.

He thought of Nicky, in the hands of that smiling devil. He was gripped with cold rage, at himself, as well as Count Anton. Nicky was such a gallant little boy, so bright and full of pluck, it made Gabe sick to think of him in the hands of the count.

Where was that devil taking him? And for what purpose?

He could think of at least one reason why Nicky had been taken alive; if there was no body, you could not prove murder.

On the other hand without a body, the count could not inherit for at least seven years. Gabe kept telling himself that.

Arriving at the Austrian ambassador's, they pounded on the door until someone came to open it. Gabe pushed his way inside. “Where is Count Anton?” he demanded.

Servants came running to eject them, but confronted with five tall, angry gentleman men they hesitated.

“Count Anton—where is he?” Gabe growled.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” The ambassador, Prince Esterhazy himself, came down the stairs, dressed in a gorgeously embroidered dressing robe. He was accompanied by a number of guards. Recognizing Gabe, he frowned and waved the guards back.

“By what right do you come shouting and brawling into my house, Renfrew?” His cold glance took in the others. When he saw Nash his brows rose even higher.

“A matter of the utmost urgency. Where is Count Anton?” Gabe demanded.

The ambassador glared at Gabe. “If it's any business of yours, he left. He was called away suddenly. But—”

“Called away? Where to?”

“Zindaria. But—”

“To his yacht?” asked Nash. He turned to Gabe. “We've been having it watched. It was moored at Dover two days ago.” He turned back to the ambassador. “So was he going to his yacht in Dover?”

“I expect so,” the ambassador said impatiently. “I shall complain to your government about this invasion—”

“Do that,” said Gabe as he left. “And then explain why your houseguest kidnapped a seven-year-old child—the crown prince of Zindaria—from his bed in the middle of the night!”

“What do you mean, kidnapped a child? He can't possibly—” the ambassador began, but Gabe did not stay to listen. By the time the ambassador had finished his sentence Gabe was thundering down the road, riding as though the devil were after him.

But the devil was ahead. With a seven-year-old child in his power.

T
he curricle pulled up outside the Esterhazy residence. Harry jumped down, peered at some marks on the pavement under the gas lamp, then swung himself back up into the curricle and snapped the reins.

“Where are we going now?” Callie asked.

“Dover.”

“How do you know that's where they're going?”

He jerked his head at the pavement. “Rafe left a note in chalk. He always used to do that when we were in the army. Only time it fails is when it rains.” He gave her a quick grin. “Good thing the weather has cleared up, isn't it?”

She nodded. “You think Nicky's going to die, don't you?”

“No!” He looked shocked. “What the hell are you thinking those kind of thoughts for? Stop it at once. Gabe will get him back.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Once Gabe sets his mind to something, there's no stopping him.”

Harry put his arm around her to steady her as they swung sharply around the corner. “It will be better if you hold onto my arm from now on,” he told her. “I'm going as fast as I can and if we hit a bump, you'll go flying unless you're anchored.”

She slipped an arm through his and hung on. His solid warmth was comforting.

“You meant it, didn't you?” Harry asked after a time.

“Meant what?”

“What you said to Aunt Maude back there. That you love my brother.”

“Of course I meant it.”

“Even though he didn't protect Nicky?”

She turned a shocked face toward him. “It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I was the one who goaded Count Anton to—”

“Nonsense,” Harry cut her off bluntly. “That job took a lot of planning. He had his plan in place long before you said a word to him. It wasn't you at all. But it was Gabe's job to protect Nicky and he botched it. And yet you still say you love him?”

Callie was shocked by his simplistic view of things. “Is that what you think Gabriel expects? That if he fails, I would stop loving him?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I won't. What sort of a love is it that treats everything as a test? If he—if he fails, I will need him more than—” her voice broke.

Harry covered her hand with his and patted her. “Don't worry,” he said gruffly. “He'll bring Nicky back to you.”

“Yes, yes, I know he will,” she said, trying to stay positive. She stared out into the black night and prayed for her son and the man she loved to be returned to her safe and sound.

She needed quite desperately to hold them in her arms and know they were safe. Both of them.

T
he lights of London were behind Gabe now. The notorious Black Heath lay a short distance ahead. Footpads, highwaymen, all kinds of criminals lurked on the wild heathland, picking off coaches and lone travelers.

Gabe was some miles ahead of the others, thanks to Trojan's speed, stamina, and great heart. The others had been forced to make do with whatever horses were in Lady Gosforth's stables.

But even Trojan was tiring. Gabe would have to get a fresh horse soon, perhaps at Rochester, on the other side of the heath. There was a livery stable there, he recalled.

He pressed on. He had to catch up with them before the count reached the yacht. Once the yacht cast off, it was anyone's guess where he'd take Nicky. He couldn't believe the count had gone to all this trouble to return Nicky to Zindaria. All kinds of possibilities chased through Gabe's mind. The boy could be sold into slavery, put on the galleys, tossed overboard…

But the count would need a body before he could inherit the throne. Whatever he planned, it had to look natural. Was that his plan, return Nicky to Zindaria, let a few people see him, and then…another dose of poisoned milk? Dreadful as it seemed, the thought was almost reassuring. It would give Gabe more time to reach them.

He reached Black Heath but didn't slacken his pace. It was a fine, bright night and the road ahead was clear. The areas with scrubby vegetation were the danger spots. His pistols were primed and ready. If there were footpads, he would be ready for them.

Trojan was blowing hard, so Gabe slowed his pace to a fast trot. He glimpsed a movement up ahead. Gabe narrowed his eyes but the moon chose that moment to slip behind clouds. He pulled out a pistol and continued on his way, keeping a wary eye out.

He heard it before he saw it, one horse, coming fast, heading directly toward him. He pulled Trojan up to the side of the road, cocked his pistol, and waited.

The horse came closer and closer. Gabe frowned. He could hardly see the rider. He must be lying down along the horse's neck. Tricky devils, highwaymen.

The horse was almost upon him. Gabe lifted his pistol just as the moon came out. The moonlight glinted on its barrel.

“Mr. Renfrew, don't shoot!” a thin, high voice screamed. “It's me, Nicky. I escaped!”

“N
icky! Thank God!” Gabe was so relieved he simply leaned over, lifted the boy out of the saddle, and wrapped him in a big hug. Nicky hugged him back.

“Are you all right?” Gabe demanded. “How did you get away? I can't believe it!” He hugged the boy again. “Thank God.”

Nicky grinned up at him. “I escaped.”

“All by yourself?” He laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. “How did you manage that? No, wait.” Gabe squinted into the darkness. “Is anyone following you?”

“Probably,” Nicky said. “It will depend on how long it takes Count Anton to discover which way I went.”

Gave laughed again at the frank triumph in the boy's voice, and the relish with which he repeated the word “escaped.”

“Good lad! Come on then, let's get back. Tell me on the way. The others are behind us.”

“Where's Mama?”

“Following in the curricle with Harry.”

They turned and cantered back the way Gabe had just come. Trojan was tired, but gallant as ever.

When they met up with Rafe, Ethan, Luke, and Nash they all whooped with delight. They pelted Nicky with questions as they rode back to the inn, and Nicky happily answered them.

Gabe grinned, enjoying the boy's triumph. The rock in his chest had eased considerably now that the boy was safe. He was just waiting for the moment when he could put Nicky back in his mother's arms.

The way he felt, Count Anton could send an army after him. It would make no difference. Nicky was safe and they were going to keep him that way.

They found the inn and woke the landlord who, seeing the flash of gold coins, was only too happy to provide hospitality to a bunch of gentlemen. He chivvied his wife out of bed to see to the provision of food, rousted out a sleepy stable boy to care for the horses, and hurried back in to see to the drinks.

Luke and Ethan kept watch on the road outside.

“So, Nicky,” Gabe said when they were inside. “Tell me again from the beginning and leave no detail out.” There were aspects of the story that hadn't made sense to him, but he'd only got it in snatches. “The men who took you from your room, did they carry you over the rooftops?”

“No, they tied me up like a sack of potatoes, and they lowered me down in the back alley with ropes. I could see, but because of the gag, I couldn't yell out or anything.”

Gabe nodded. “You were very brave. What happened next?”

“There was a carriage waiting, and they put me in that. It was dirty and smelled of onions. Then we went somewhere and the count came and he, he—” The little boy's lip trembled, but he mastered himself and went on. “He had a bottle of something nasty and he made me drink from it.”

Gabriel swore under his breath.

“I thought it was poison, like he used on my puppy,” Nicky continued. “And I fought, but there was nothing I could do. He forced it into my mouth, but I didn't swallow it. And then he lifted me into the curricle so I let it dribble down my front. He never saw. But I must have swallowed some, because I don't remember anything after that until I woke up and we were out in the country somewhere and my hands and feet weren't tied anymore, but I was still wrapped in the quilt. I felt sleepy and a bit sick, so I just lay on the seat and didn't move, not even when we stopped and the count checked me.”

“They stopped to change horses, and the count went inside, and that's when I climbed out of the curricle. One of the soldiers saw me, but he only bowed and said how pleased he was I was free and coming home.”

“He
what
?”

Nicky shrugged. “He wanted me to go into the inn to eat something, but I told him I needed to make water first. Well, I did.”

“And he just let you go? By yourself?” Gabe exchanged glances with Nash and Rafe.

Nicky nodded. “Yes, and he went into the inn so I made water, and afterward I found the horses all saddled and waiting, so I untied them all. I kept one for me and set the others loose. I got on mine—it was a bit difficult without you to boost me, sir, but I managed and I rode at the other horses so that they ran off, and then I rode away.”

Gabe frowned. “The soldier knew who you were?”

Nicky nodded. “Yes, he called me Prince Nikolai. But he didn't see me stealing the horse. I think he would have stopped me then.”

Gabe was puzzled. The soldier ought have stopped Nicky as soon as he saw he was free. It didn't make sense. To go to all that trouble to kidnap the boy and then just let him walk away. It was crazy!

Nicky grinned. “Nobody expected me to be able to ride. I heard the count yelling and swearing and screaming at everyone.”

Gabe laughed at Nicky's expression. Far from being cowed by his adventure, he was positively crowing at his victory. And why not? He'd rescued himself in the best possible way.

But it was a very strange story. And Gabe was determined to get to the bottom of it.

The sound of horses outside drew his attention. He heard Rafe whistle and tensed, with a different sort of tension.

“Brace yourself, Nicky,” he said, “Your mother is here.” A moment later a small whirlwind in a large fur cloak flew in the door.

“Nicky, oh Nicky!” Callie exclaimed and hugged her son convulsively. She checked him all over. “Are you all right, my darling? They didn't hurt you?”

“No, Mama. I am perfectly splendid!”

She paused. “Perfectly splendid?” She stared at him, then shook her head. She gave a shaky laugh, wiped a tear away, and repeated, “Perfectly splendid?” She laughed again and hugged him. “How can you be perfectly splendid?”

“I am, Mama. I foiled Count Anton all by myself!”

“You did? But I thought—” She threw a puzzled glance at Gabe then turned back to her son and hugged him again. She drew him to a settee, saying, “Tell me all about it.”

She'd turned away from him. Gabe had expected it, but it didn't make it any easier. He watched the joyful reunion between mother and son. She was like a bear or a wolf in defense of her cub. She would have killed for him.

He'd promised to protect her child and he'd failed. So she turned her back on him. Perhaps, if he'd rescued the boy in some heroic fashion…but Nicky had done it all by himself.

And Gabe couldn't regret that—he was proud of the lad, as proud as if Nicky were his own son. The boy had shown courage, initiative, and endurance. He'd dealt with a thoroughly nasty situation with a marvelously cool head. And he wasn't an experienced rider. To tackle a long ride in the dark, alone and on an unknown horse, was a feat to celebrate.

Harry had come in behind her. He and Gabe watched Nicky telling his mother about his adventure, then exchanged glances. Gabe couldn't stand to see the pity in his brother's eyes. Harry knew how Gabe felt about her. There was a narrow balcony that ran the length of the inn, and Gabe took himself out onto it to watch for Count Anton. He wouldn't be caught off guard again.

Count Anton would be desperate now, with witnesses to his perfidy. He had nothing left to lose. And desperate men did desperate things.

A shrill whistle from below came a few minutes later. He interrupted Nicky's story. “They're coming,” he said. He couldn't quite look her in the eye. “Go out on the balcony, please. If there is a fight, I need you both to be out of harm's way.”

She didn't look very happy about it, but she nodded and moved outside, taking Nicky. She wrapped them both in the large fur cloak, just as Ethan, Luke, Rafe, and Nash arrived and took up a defensive stance.

A few minutes later Count Anton, accompanied by half a dozen men in uniform, stormed into the inn.

“Where is the prince?” Count Anton scanned the room.

“Safe,” Gabe told him.

The count sneered. “Give him up. He belongs to us. You are outnumbered.”

“I think not,” Gabe snarled. He'd lost almost everything he'd cared about tonight and this man was the cause of it.

The count glanced at the sword Gabe was wearing. “We shall see if you can fight like gentlemen.” He gave an order and the soldiers drew their swords. Gabe and the others did likewise.

“Stop this at once!” Callie stepped into the room. Nicky followed.

Instantly the soldiers bowed. “Princess Caroline,” their captain said. “You are safe.”

“Get back outside,” Gabe told her furiously. “Dammit, woman, will you learn to follow orders for once in your life!”

“Do not use that tone of voice with the princess, swine!” the captain of the soldiers roared.

“I will use any damned tone I like if it will keep her safe! Now for the last time, Callie, get out of here. This is going to get ugly!”

“I won't have any more fighting,” she ordered. “I don't want you hurt! I don't want anyone hurt.” She looked at Count Anton. “Except him.”

She pulled out the pistol and pointed it at Count Anton.

With a roar of exasperation, Gabe snatched the pistol from her. “If anyone is going to kill that devil, it will be me,” he told her furiously. “Now get outside before one of these idiots hurts you.”

She gave him an angry look and stepped back, pushing Nicky behind her. But she still didn't go outside. Gabe glared at her.

“Princess, did this thug hurt you?” the captain of the soldiers demanded.

She frowned at him. “Of course he didn't. You are Captain Kordovski, are you not? I cannot believe that a captain of the Royal Zindarian Guard is involved in such filthy business as this.”

“What filthy business, Highness? We have come to rescue you.” The captain glared at Gabe.

Gabe glared back. “Will you stop bandying words with this bandit and get back outside!” he told her.

She ignored Gabe and gave the captain a puzzled look. “Rescue me from whom?”

The captain looked at Gabe and then back at Callie. “I thought—is that thug not the enemy who stole you away?” he said doubtfully and looked to the count as if for confirmation.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the count said and lunged at Gabe with his sword.

“Callie, Nicky, get the hell outside! The rest of you, stay back,” Gabe warned as he parried the count's thrust. Count Anton was a skilled swordsman with a stylish manner, but Gabe had been fighting for his life for eight years: there was no comparison.

Gabe thrust and at the same time twisted his blade. It slashed into Count Anton's left shoulder and blood blossomed through his coat. He snarled and thrust wildly back at Gabe and with a flick of the wrist, Gabe sent the count's blade spinning out of his hand and across the floor. Harry clamped a boot on it and the fight was over.

The count stood panting, staring at Gabe with flat malevolence. “Kill them all!” he ordered the guards.

“Sheathe your swords,” Captain Kordovski ordered, and the guards sheathed their swords.

The count swore viciously.

“That's enough,” Gabe snapped. “Were it not for the presence of this lady and her child I would butcher you where you stand. As it is I'll be glad to see you dance at the end of a rope.”

“You can't touch me,” the count snarled.

“Nash, you're the diplomat, what say you? Surely a member of a foreign royal family cannot be immune from prosecution for arson, kidnapping, and attempted murder?”

“What are you talking about?” Captain Kordovski demanded belligerently. “Arson? What arson? And as for kidnapping—you are a fine one to talk, you, who stole our prince and princess from us. And as for attempted murder, we are all witness to the fact that it was a fair fight.”

“What are
you
talking about?” Callie stepped forward. “Nobody stole me. But he—” She pointed at Count Anton, who sat nursing his wound. “He stole my son from his bed last night as he slept.”

“His agents did,” Captain Kordovski corrected her. “He organized the rescue attempt to save the prince from the fiend who was holding him prisoner.” He glared at Gabe.

Suddenly it was clear to Gabe. The count's so-called agents—he'd wager the original plan had been for them to assassinate Nicky. Planned for the night of the party, when everyone would be distracted and the count himself would be downstairs innocently hobnobbing with the highest born collection of witnesses in the land.

Then Captain Kordovski and his Royal Guards arrived on the scene and the assassination had to be turned into a rescue attempt.

“Stop calling him a fiend!” Callie snapped. “He is my husband. My beloved husband.”

Gabe blinked. What had she just called him?
Beloved?

“And he wasn't holding anyone prisoner, or hidden away. Nicky was peacefully asleep, and Gabriel was downstairs dancing with me at the party to celebrate our wedding.”

Captain Kordovski's jaw dropped. “What? I don't understand.”