Defending the Duchess (11 page)

“Should we take the stairs?” Julia pointed to the graceful stairway that descended from the balcony above. “It might be faster than waiting for an elevator.”

“Great idea.” Linus spotted the pool beyond wide windows that separated the formal hotel entry from the casual space beyond. Scott’s room overlooked the pool.

They reached the top of the steps and hurried along the balcony to
the glass door that completed the pool area enclosure. A whiff of chlorine greeted him when he opened the door, but he ignored it as he read off the room numbers.

“Two-sixteen,” he whispered as they came to a stop in front of it. With a quick glance around, he saw Paul, one of his men, stationed at the far end of the balcony, and another guard, Oliver, by the main hotel entrance. The other
two would be outside, one at the front of the building, one at the back.

He studied the door for only a second before he decided he didn’t want Julia standing in front of it. If they were walking into a trap, someone on the other side could put a bullet through the door the moment she knocked.

Pulling Julia down the hall, away from the room, Linus whispered to Sam to knock. In his full
body armor, Sam would fare much better against a bullet. And if there was no threat, Julia could go in.

Sam rapped lightly on the wood. He looked at them expectantly.

Nothing.

He knocked again, this time a little harder.

Even as Sam’s knuckles made contact with the door, Linus’s earpiece buzzed with Galen’s voice transmitted from the helicopter he could hear hovering above
the hotel. “I’ve got two figures headed out a second-floor window. It’s the eighth window from the west end—I believe that makes it room two-sixteen.” Galen paused. “One of those figures has a gun. Nick, are you seeing this?”

“I’m on the ground.” Nick’s voice carried through in slightly hushed tones. “I see the men. There’s a bit of a decorative balcony there—they look like they’re going
to jump. I’m holding back. I want them on the ground before they see me.”

“I’m coming around the side of the building,” Jason informed them next. “Liam, leave your station and bring a car around back. The rest of you, stay at your posts.”

As their conversation played into his earpiece, Linus realized Scott wasn’t alone. Whoever was with him had no intention of letting Scott share the
information he learned. He motioned to Sam. “Kick the door in.”

Linus tucked Julia tight against his chest and she pressed close, as though suspecting a violent explosion at any moment. They were down the hall from the door to 216, well out of the way of any shots that might come through the hotel room wall. He’d have kicked in the door himself, but he wasn’t armed. He was technically supposed
to have gone off duty after he’d delivered Julia safely to the palace, but of course that hadn’t been possible.

Sam was well armored and wore steel-toed boots. He dropped the door with one kick.

“Freeze! Royal guard!” Sam shouted as the door went down.

“They’re jumping,” Nick reported from the ground.

“I’m after them,” Jason’s voice cut out.

Sam leaped inside the room.
Linus thought he caught a whiff of smoke, and eased close enough to peek around the doorway just in time to see Sam lift a bed pillow from a smoldering pile of papers.

He looked up from the charred remains grimly. “They wouldn’t have set those on fire if they weren’t important.”

The top several pages were blackened, and the edges of the all the papers had burned as well, but Linus held
out hope that Sam’s quick thinking had saved something, at least.

“Can I look?” Julia took a tentative step across the flattened door.

But the sound of shooting echoed through the open hotel room window, and Linus pulled her back. “I don’t want you going in there. Sam, see if you can find any other evidence they might have left behind. We’ll have to be careful with those papers if we’re
going to preserve any of the contents. I’ll take Julia to the car.”

Julia looked up at him as though she might protest being led away.

“You’re far more important than those papers,” he whispered as he led her toward the stairs.

“But we need to find out—”

“We will. We may be able to read the contents of the burned pages if they aren’t disturbed. It’s better this way.” He wished
he could assure her of more, that Jason and his men would bring in Scott and whoever was with him, but he couldn’t make any promises. In fact, given the gunfire—which hadn’t sounded like any of the sidearms the royal guardsmen carried—he prayed fervently that Jason and all his men would make it back, empty-handed or not.

Linus helped Julia into the car before driving them back toward the
palace. His earpiece relayed his fellow guards’ activities as they unfolded. Scott was down—shot by the man who’d shoved him through the window. Jason was checking his vitals while Nick and Liam went after the gunman, who’d hopped in a car waiting at the end of the alley.

Galen kept the men on the ground informed of the car’s escape route. Nick and Liam sped after it, but had to pause to
let the ambulance through. By the time they caught up to the vehicle, the men had ditched it and slipped among the tourists crowding the market.

“Which way did they go?” Nick demanded.

“I can’t tell,” Galen reported glumly from the sky. “They went under the central canopy. It’s too crowded down there—they may have come back out again. Check the center stalls.”

But from the transmissions
Liam and Nick provided, they couldn’t identify anyone inside the market stalls.

Jason didn’t have any better news. “Scott was shot twice through the abdomen. He’s still breathing. The ambulance arrived quickly. He may have a chance of pulling through.”

Linus prayed with eyes wide open as he steered their car toward the palace. He didn’t want to tell Julia what he’d heard, but when he
glanced her way he saw her looking up at him expectantly.

“Did I hear an ambulance?”

He met her eyes and wished he didn’t have to deliver the news.

“The shots we heard—”

“Scott was hit in the abdomen. He’s still alive.”

Julia pinched her eyes shut. Regret filled her face. She looked up at him again as the car pulled through the palace gates. “Do you think we caused it?”

Linus had already been pondering the same question. “No. Scott already said he was in over his head and scared. Those men may have tailed him all the way from Seattle. If they’d shot him elsewhere, we wouldn’t have been around to call an ambulance. And Sam saved some of the papers, at least. That should give us a clue of what Scott had been planning to tell you.”

“I should have asked
him for more details over the phone. I should have learned what I could while I had the chance, but he said he wanted to meet in person.”

“Maybe we’ll learn more from those papers than Scott could have told you over the phone. We did what we thought was best. Don’t look back and wish you’d done things differently. All we can do now is try to make the best of what we have.”

He parked
the car in the garage and ran around to help Julia out.

“I’m supposed to have supper with my sister in fifteen minutes. What should I tell her?”

“You don’t have to tell her anything.” He paused, prepared to leave her by a back door of the palace. “Sam isn’t back yet, is he?”

“No, the other two cars have yet to return.”

“I can escort you to your room.” He opened the door for
her.

“But you’re supposed to be off duty.”

He met her eyes as she stepped past him into the palace. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure you’re safe.”

ELEVEN

J
ulia felt as though Linus had wrapped a warm blanket around her with his words. From the moment she’d seen Scott’s name on her phone, she’d felt shaken. Even more so when she’d heard gunfire and learned that the one man who’d offered to tell her what was going on had been shot.

But Linus had already proven himself stalwart and trustworthy. Just knowing he was with
her gave her the strength to keep going.

With Linus stationed outside the door to her suite, she changed into a fresh blouse and ran a brush through her thick brown hair before stepping back out again to join him.

He smiled at her. “You look great.”

She followed as he led her quickly toward the dining room, the echo of his compliment seeping through her. His words weren’t fancy,
but the glimmer of his eyes had told her they were sincere, and that knowledge warmed her more than anything.

Concerned as she was about having to tell Monica what had happened that afternoon, she was pleased to discover her sister was preoccupied with news of her own, which she shared the moment Julia entered the room.

“This is the announcement for your titling ceremony.” Monica held
up an embossed card for her appraisal.

“Sunday,” Julia read the words aloud. “
This
Sunday?”

“We needed to move it up. If you don’t approve we could push it back, but it really would help if we could move it forward.”

“It’s completely up to you,” Julia assured her. “I’m just the recipient. But are you sure you want to have it so soon, with all that’s been happening lately? Sunday
is only four days away.” They were the only two in the room, besides Linus who still hovered near the doorway. Julia wouldn’t have mentioned the distressing events of late if her nephew had been present. She wasn’t particularly pleased about bringing them up to her sister, but she thought it ought to be addressed.

Monica looked down at the invitation, and Julia couldn’t help noticing how
thin and drawn she looked. When the queen looked back at her, apology shined in her eyes. “That’s actually part of the reason why we wanted to move forward. This way, there won’t be time for too much commotion.”

Monica’s final word hung between them, implied meaning heaped upon it, full of unspoken threats.

Julia understood. The sooner they sprang the titling ceremony, the less opportunity
anyone would have to plot to use the public assembly to their advantage. Clearly, Monica didn’t think Julia was going to be free from the trouble that followed her anytime soon.

“Sunday will be perfect,” Julia rushed to assure her. “Can Mom and Dad be here by then?”

“They’re planning to arrive in Lydia tomorrow,” Monica said, beaming at her with appreciation. “If you’re okay with it,
we’ll send out the announcements. You won’t have a large crowd on this short notice, but I think it will be best that way.”

“Of course,” Julia agreed, and tried to make her words sound sincere. “I feel so honored to have a title. A small crowd is probably best.” The last thing she wanted to do was give Monica any more reason for concern. Linus and the guards had everything under control.
She had to trust that, and focus on getting through dinner without letting on to her sister all that was wrong.

Peter bounded into the room as she spoke. King Thaddeus entered on the heels of his son, followed by his sisters the princesses and Prince Alec and all their fiancés. Isabelle and Anastasia hovered near, gushing about the invitation and how lovely the ceremony would be. Julia nodded,
reminding herself that she hadn’t expected anything, certainly not something as prominent as the title of duchess.

She should be happy.

But the cold fear knotted inside her would not be tamped down, no matter how many times she forced a smile to her lips. The royals, at least, seemed too excited by their plans to notice the tremor in her voice when she spoke, or to spot the tremble of
fear in her hands.

It was Linus who leaped forward to pull out her chair while everyone else was being seated. Linus must have seen the effort it took for her to look happy, because he whispered in her ear as he slid the heavy chair smoothly toward the table. “Scott’s in surgery. Everything is going to be okay. You’re doing great.”

They weren’t fancy words. But they were the words she
needed to hear. Bolstered by his reassurances and the hope that Scott would survive to share what he’d learned, she found the strength to make it, smiling, through the meal without letting on to her sister just how horribly everything in her world was falling apart.

* * *

Linus studied the photographs the forensic team had taken of the burned documents Sam had saved. The burned pages
themselves were sealed in a box lined with cotton wool, the individual wisps of blackened paper separated by tissue paper, though Linus couldn’t imagine they’d be any more legible that way than in the pictures that had been taken before they’d been moved from the hotel room.

Even magnified several times, the printed words were nearly the same color as the burned paper and almost impossible
to make out.

But it was all they had to go on. And the fact that the man who’d shot Scott had taken the time to light the papers on fire meant their contents must be important.

Scott Gordon had spent the night in surgery. As of that morning, he had yet to wake up. The last Linus had heard, they didn’t know if he would wake up.

Scott had lost a great deal of blood and coded twice
on the table, though they’d managed to bring him back both times. Even if he awakened, he might not remember anything of what he’d been going to tell them.

So the pages on the table were their best hope for sorting out what Scott had known. Until they figured that out, they couldn’t know why Julia also had been targeted. And until they knew why she’d been targeted, she wouldn’t be perfectly
safe.

“Knock knock,” a female voice chanted from the doorway.

Linus recognized the voice, but he still felt a foolish grin rise to his lips when he turned to see Julia enter, her hair pulled up in a casual ponytail, her T-shirt and shorts reminiscent of what she’d worn the first night he’d saved her, the sneakers on her feet the same that had scuffled in the sand with the footprints
of her attacker.

“Come on in.” He tried to wipe the grin off his face. When that failed, he looked down at the pages spread on the table, as though he could focus on their contents with Julia standing beside him, smelling fresh and flowery, a bright contrast to the photographs of blackened paper.

She stood in silence for a time, surveying the charred documents before speaking. “Have
we learned anything?”

“Scott Gordon wears a size thirteen shoe.” He glanced up, and her face held his gaze.

Relief filled her features. “He didn’t attack me on the beach that night.”

“He didn’t.” Linus nodded firmly. “But we don’t know who did.”

“The same guy who shot him?”

Linus had already watched the footage shot by the helicopter’s on-board camera. “It’s quite possible.
The figure appeared to be roughly the same size as Scott. He also had a driver in the car waiting for him. From the brief image the helicopter camera captured when the men ran into the market, the driver was also of similar build. Either of them could have been the man who attacked you on the beach.”

“We don’t know anything more about them?”

“They’re not afraid to shoot.” Linus offered
her the conclusions he’d reached. “And they don’t want anyone to read these papers.”

Julia absorbed the news by letting out a long, slow breath, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Do you think it’s foolish for me to agree to have the titling ceremony on Sunday?”

Linus had been pondering the same question ever since Queen Monica had revealed the plan to her sister. He’d resigned himself
to a few conclusions. “From what I can tell, these guys, whoever they might be, are trying to keep a lid on something. They killed Pendleton to keep him quiet. They tried to destroy these papers because they’re afraid of what the contents reveal. When Scott resisted their attempts to take him with them, they shot him. I get the sense they’re trying to cover up something. If that’s the case, they’re
not going to show their faces at a large public gathering, especially not with all the photographers who will be present.”

Julia nodded along as though she agreed with everything he’d said. “They haven’t come after me here at the palace yet. They seem to recognize that the walls and guards and security cameras would make it tough to get to me. They’ve only ever come after me when I’ve stepped
out.”

“The titling ceremony will take place in the throne room, with a reception in the ballroom immediately following. You won’t be leaving the palace. The royal guard will be on hand in full force, and Jason has already talked to the Lydian army about providing additional men on site.”

“You’d think if these guys wanted to try to reach me inside the palace, they’d avoid showing up on
the one day when there’s so much extra security.”

Linus agreed. “The only advantage I could see from their standpoint would be the added crowd of people. They might hope to blend in with everyone else.”

“That’s a possibility,” Julia acknowledged, planting her hands on the edge of the table as though she needed the added support. “Monica was going to make sure the newspapers carried a
notice of increased security along with the announcement of the ceremony. Hopefully that will be enough to deter them.”

“The most important thing is that you feel safe.” Linus placed a hand on her shoulder.

She let go of the table and looked up at him. It wasn’t until she straightened to her full height that he realized how close together they were standing. Her eyes glistened with appreciation
as they met his. “You make me feel safe.”

Linus couldn’t speak. The duchess was so close to him, her face mere inches from his. Her lips hovered so near. It wouldn’t take anything at all to kiss her.

“That’s—” he struggled to find words and pulled his hand from her shoulder “—that’s the most important thing.”

“We also need to keep my sister from feeling any additional stress. She
tries not to show it, but she’s hurting somehow. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I don’t think it’s an emotional toll. She seems quite happy when she’s with Thaddeus, and of course with Peter, too. Do you suppose she’s ill?”

“It’s possible. When she insisted on moving up your titling ceremony, I wondered—” Linus clamped his mouth shut, fearing he’d said too much.

“You wondered what?”

“Just that it almost seems as if she wants to get the titling ceremony over with to make way for something else.”

“Something else?”

“I can’t say what.” Linus immediately felt foolish for even bringing it up, and struggled to make sense of the incoherent sense he’d gotten from the scheduling change. “I just know that the palace administration has gone to great lengths to keep all
the events and upcoming royal weddings separate. They’re strategic about when they schedule things and when they announce them, so they don’t step on anyone’s toes.”

“You think my sister wants to get my titling ceremony out of the way, so she doesn’t step on my toes with an announcement?” Julia’s words were soft, not accusational.

“It’s possible.”

“It’s more than possible. It fits.
I just hope whatever it is she wants to announce, that it’s something good. I hope she’s not sick.”

* * *

Julia gripped the side of the table once more, needing something to lean on. She hated to think that Monica might be ill, but she didn’t know how else to explain her sister’s pallor or her thinning figure. Monica had always dealt well with stress, so even the stress of becoming queen
and moving to Lydia shouldn’t have had such a negative effect on her.

An illness was the most logical answer. What hurt Julia even more, though, was that her sister had yet to tell her what it was. Growing up, they’d always shared their secrets. If Monica had something important to share, she must have a good reason for not wanting to tell Julia. But what was it?

Linus pulled out a chair
for her. “Sit. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Julia realized he must have picked up on how unsteady she felt. She sat as instructed and noticed the coffee on warm at the kitchenette in the corner. “I’d take some of that coffee.”

“With milk?”

She smiled up at him. “You know how I like it.”

Moments later he handed her a steaming cup, and she gripped it, grateful for the warmth
that spread up her fingers and the kindness of Linus’s gesture. She turned to the enlarged photographs of charred paper spread out on the table before her.

But Linus didn’t seem eager to discuss them just yet. “You’ve been quite concerned about your sister’s well-being—even more so than your own, it seems to me.”

Julia sipped the warm beverage, then sighed. “I owe it to Monica after
all she’s been through. Not just the kidnapping earlier this summer, but everything. We never knew she’d snuck off and married Thaddeus six years ago. When we realized she was pregnant, we waited for her to tell us the whole story.” Julia studied the swirl of milk that spread into the darker brown of her coffee.

“She never did?” Linus asked gently.

“Never. And instead of pressing for
an answer, we just got used to not knowing.”

“Don’t feel bad. You did what you thought was best.”

Julia understood his words, but she couldn’t accept them. “Her husband went into hiding for the sake of this kingdom. We should have been there for her, but we didn’t know. I thought it was best to give her space, but looking back, I’m afraid I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I
regret that. I only wish I knew how to make up for it.”

“From what I understand, she couldn’t have told you anyway. Thaddeus told her not to tell anyone anything. Doing so would have endangered her and Peter, even you and your parents.”

Julia looked up at the handsome guard and studied his face for some time. His expression was earnest, intent. She knew he spoke the truth, but she couldn’t
shake the guilt she felt. “I still feel as though I should have done something more.”