My Own True Love (32 page)

Lewis nodded slowly, grasping for any plan to help Sara. "I'll talk to him." He'd do more than talk to the man if Sara had been harmed in any way.

Beng pushed him back toward the embassy. "You go, then, Toma James Bond Lewis Morgan. You free your wife from the mad duke."

"I will," Lewis promised. "I'll do just that."

******************

Lewis prowled the perimeter of Sir Horace's study one more time. "You don't understand! An innocent woman has been imprisoned!"

Sir Horace folded his hands on the table before him. "Innocent? Didn't you tell me the girl was organizing the rebellion?"

"Innocent—except for that," Lewis conceded.

"Then her arrest was perfectly justified."

"What has justice got to do with anything?" Lewis raged. "We're dealing with a dictator here! This is a righteous revolution!" Lewis stopped pacing as his own words rang in his head. When had he come to believe in revolution? "Legality doesn't matter," he proclaimed. "We have to save Sara."

"We? Why?"

Lewis hunted for a reason that might appear practical to the ambassador. "What if the duke rejects the treaty? You told me he's making more demands than you can accept. What if you can use the rebels against him? Don't tell me you aren't already considering the possibility."

Sir Horace nodded reluctantly. "But I don't know what I can do for your young woman."

Lewis came forward. He leaned across the table, his hands flat on the smooth surface of the wood.

Voice lowered he said, "Let me talk to Rudeseko. Perhaps he can be bribed into releasing one female prisoner."

Sir Horace looked as if he'd just tasted something sour. "Get dressed for dinner," was all he said. "If you should by chance meet Captain Rudeseko at the palace this evening I certainly have no control over any
private
conversation you might have with him."

Lewis nodded. "I realize, of course, that the British government has no knowledge of my private affairs. How much am I authorized to offer for Sara's release?" he asked.

"As much as it takes," Sir Horace answered. "Since I'm sure you intend to anyway."

Lewis smiled. "I'm so glad we understand each other, Sir Horace."

******************

"The ruby is lovely, Sir Horace," the grand duke said with a beaming smile. He touched the brooch pinned to the lapel of his gold satin coat. The ambassador, seated next to him at the banquet table, nodded agreeably. "But I've been thinking that I should like some new diamonds to go with it," the duke went on.

"Indeed, Your Highness?" Sir Horace said cautiously.

"Yes. I'm told India is the place for diamonds. I think I should like to go to India. You've been to India, haven't you, Sir Horace?"

"Yes. I served the Crown and the East India Company for many pleasant years there."

"Do you know about Hindus?"

"I do."

"I'm told their sexual practices are amazing."

Sir Horace gave a small, polite cough. "Perhaps my physician, Dr. Liang, could be of assistance with such knowledge."

"Splendid!" the grand duke exclaimed. He slapped the table, rattling the china and silverware. "Send for the heathen. And arrange to give me a palace in India."

"A palace?" Sir Horace asked.

"The English have plenty of Indian palaces to spare. I've decided I want one. And diamonds," he added. "Lots of diamonds."

"I shall convey your requests to London immediately, Your Highness."

“Splendid."

Lewis, watching from the seat opposite the ambassador, was amazed at the man's ability to retain his bland affability through each outrageous demand. The duke, he had decided the moment he'd been ushered into the same room with him,
was
mad. The mad duke, as Sara had so often referred to him, was tall and handsome, except for his staring blue eyes and darting movements. To Lewis he looked like an opium-eating heron in need of a fresh pipe. His demeanor was arrogant, but no more than any ruler's.

His behavior, however, was dangerously erratic.

So far, during the long evening meal, he'd ordered his mistress banished to a convent for wearing a dress the same color as his coat. This was after being reminded that he had chosen the poor woman's dress himself. Then he'd regaled his dinner guests with readings of various broadsheets that had been published about him by an underground press.

No one had known whether they were supposed to laugh, jeer, or applaud as he read the news to them. The grand duke had merely looked up briefly as he tossed each sheet of paper to the floor, then gone back to reading. He frequently guffawed, but his court sat in miserable silence through the meal.

Lewis had been relieved when Duke Alexander turned his attention to the British ambassador.

Through it all, while he pecked at the splendid meal and tried to be ignored by the mad duke, Lewis worried about Sara. He tried to frame the words he would say to Captain Rudeseko if he ever got the chance to approach the man standing watchfully by the banquet hall doorway.

Lewis was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't react at first when Duke Alexander said.

"Now we will have the English juggler. Then music."

Silence followed the duke's statement. A silence so penetrating that Lewis eventually noticed it and looked up. To find everyone in the room staring at him.

"What?" he asked, looking to Sir Horace for direction.

Sir Horace looked pained. "His Highness wishes to see you juggle, Lieutenant."

He'd been so intent on saving Sara that he'd forgotten why he'd been invited to the palace in the first place. Lewis stood instantly. He bowed to the grand duke and started gathering up cutlery. The woman he loved was in terrible danger. His mind was full of images of the horror she must be enduring, but the performance must go on.

Chapter 21

"What was that?"

"A bi-dextral hammer-on," Sara said when she finished playing. Maxim continued to stare up at her in extreme confusion from his seat on the nursery floor. Then he and Beth exchanged long-suffering looks.

After a moment Sara grasped what he'd been asking. "Oh, you mean the song. Sort of kind of vaguely Van Halen."

"It was pretty," Max told her. "I like what you play better than what my music master teaches me."

"That's my little head-banger." She reached out to ruffle his curly hair, then put the guitar down. "I love this thing but I miss electricity. I've got an Ibanez Voyager at home," she told the attentive children.

"Mostly I just run it through a practice amp and use headphones, but sometimes I crank up the Crate to ten and drive the neighbors to drink." She sighed wistfully. "1 bet they don't miss me at all. Mrs. Dahl swore I was making her cat go bald. Personally, I think it was her son who's got this garage band that's really into grunge. Seattle's a nice town but I wish they'd keep their music to themselves, except for Queensryche, of course. Do you think Lewis is all right?"

Beth shook her head. She got up and went over to Denise as the governess came into the bedroom from the schoolroom. "Sara's talking crazy again."

Sara knew she was. She babbled constantly when she wasn't occupied with practical matters. She would start talking and say anything that came into her head to keep from thinking about the only thing that really mattered. Oh, the revolution mattered, but there was only so much time she could spend being the selfless political organizer, especially since she was forced to work from inside the guarded walls of the palace.

Denise put her arm around Beth's shoulder and they crossed to where Sara sat with Max. Beth was dressed in a white dress with a wide blue sash, and blue ribbons were fastened in her shining hair. Max adored Beth and insisted that his constant companion have the best of everything. Not only did Max adore her, so did his governess. Sara had to admit that she was a little jealous of the close relationship Beth had developed with Denise. She was also delighted that Denise and Max were capable of channeling the girl's wild nature in more civilized directions. She certainly hadn't had any talent for it.

"I'm going to make a terrible mother," she said as Denise came up and took a seat beside her on the closed lid of the toy chest.

"Nonsense," Denise assured her briskly. "You look lovely," she added.

Like Beth, Sara no longer wore rags. She was a privileged and pampered court musician, until such time as the duke remembered she was Rom and decided to have her executed. Because she might be called to perform at tonight's banquet she was dressed in a gown of deep red velvet with matching hothouse roses twined in her hair.

"Thank you," Sara answered belatedly after she realized she'd been staring off into space for a while.

Had leaving him at the embassy been the right thing? Why hadn't word gotten back to her about him yet?

What was the use of setting up an intelligence network if nobody had the intelligence to report to the person in charge? Which wasn't fair since she got plenty of news from the outside, just none of it the news she was praying for.

"I'm not sure it's such a good idea to use the children as couriers," Denise said, as if she'd read Sara's thoughts. "Don't you think Maxim's father might get a bit upset with him if he knew the boy was working to overthrow his rule?"

"He'd have my head cut off," Max said confidently. "Beth and 1 are careful," he added.

"Perhaps," Denise agreed. "But it isn't wise for you to keep sneaking out of the palace. I realize you're only trying to help your people, and that's very commendable, but it's interfering with your lessons."

Sara didn't understand Denise Meinstad at all, but she liked her a lot. "You're right about using the kids," Sara agreed. "Clever as they are, I'm worried about their getting caught."

"We won't!" Beth spoke up.

Before Sara or Denise could answer they were disturbed by a knock on the door. A maid stuck her head in a moment later, and said, "You've been sent for, Sara."

Sara sighed tiredly and picked up her guitar. She was tired and her back ached and being near the duke made her skin crawl, but she had no choice but to go. She was one of a number of entertainers imprisoned in the palace, well treated but permanently at the duke's beck and call. At least tonight was a simple party gig. She'd spent several nights since she'd been brought here in the duke's bedchamber, playing blindfolded, providing music for orgies going on only a few feet from where she sat. It had all been terribly embarrassing.

"You'd better hurry," Denise encouraged her as Sara walked reluctantly toward the door. "I'll get the children to bed, and by the time you're done I'll have some hot cocoa waiting for you. With schnapps,"

she added with a warm smile.

"Not in my condition," Sara said.

"Which you don't want to talk about," Denise added for her.

"But thanks for the hot chocolate. I'm going to need it."

Max came up to her and took her hand before she could leave. She turned to him. "I'm sorry, Sara,"

he said earnestly.

Sara ruffled his curls. "For what, sweetheart?"

"For mentioning you and Beth to my father. He never would have had you brought here if I hadn't told him how much I enjoyed your playing. I'm not sorry I said I wanted Beth for a playmate, but I didn't mean to make either of you prisoners."

"I know that, honey," she answered. "It's all right."

"Now you can't ever leave. It's all my fault. So I don't want to stop being your courier," he added in a whisper. "I want to help you save the country."

Beth came up and touched Max on the shoulders. "She's got to go now," she told him firmly. "Come on, we're going to 'ave—have—a story."

"It'll be all right," Sara assured Max. She smiled at Beth. "Good night, kid."

"'Night, Sara," Beth said as she tugged the heir to the duchy of Bororavia back toward his waiting governess.

"Everything's going to be all right," Sara said to herself as she left the nursery to hurry to the banquet hall. "Please, God, let Lewis be all right too."

******************

"A pity you weren't here earlier," Stefan Rudeseko said to her as he met her in the corridor outside the banquet hall. He paused to add a small, formal bow to the smile he was already giving her. "You look beautiful tonight, Sara."

Sara returned his smile. Captain Rudeseko was invariably polite, invariably kind, and he invariably turned a blind eye to her subversive activities. It was because of him that she felt safer inside the palace than outside, where the duke's mercenaries were ruthlessly searching for the leader of the rebellion. She knew that besides her own efforts to overthrow Duke Alexander with a popular uprising there were factions inside the court looking to depose him. Everybody approached Rudeseko for help eventually, but the guard captain remained loyal to the ruling family.

To Sara that meant that Stefan Rudeseko was going to protect Max from all comers. She liked him for his loyalty to the kid. It was also why she knew he was eventually going to give his complete support to her instead of anyone else trying to take over the rule of Bororavia. He knew she'd never let anything happen to Max, either. After all, besides really liking the kid, she knew Bororavian history.

This was neither the time or place to discuss politics. "Why should I have been here earlier?" she asked him as he offered his arm to escort her into the hall.

"There was a juggler invited to dinner," he answered. "As fine as any gypsy entertainer, but brought by the English ambassador. A fearless fellow who juggled knives."

"Oh?" Sara said, more out of politeness than curiosity. Then she halted in her tracks as they reached the wide double doors. She looked up slowly to meet Rudeseko's mild gaze. Her heart was beginning to hammer so heavily she could barely hear herself speak. "Did you say knives?"

He nodded. "A familiar-looking fellow," he added. "But I couldn't quite place him."

"Blue eyes?" she questioned eagerly. "Black hair? A sharp, triangular face? Medium height? Kind of skinny but with a really great butt?"

"Guys don't notice that kind of stuff," the ring pointed out. "Of course it's him."