The Third Son (38 page)

“Lust,” he said, spitting the word from his mouth as if it were distasteful to him. “This is not a love match, Davina. I care nothing for you and were it not for the child you are carrying, I would have thrown you out the moment you walked back into my life. As my wife I ask only for
your loyalty to me as your king
and your care of our child. You and I have hardly
remained faithful to each other
and I do not intend for us to start doing so now. So long as you are discreet in your affairs, I couldn’t care less.”

Davina’s brow raised in surprise. As the queen
,
she would have men constantly fawning and falling over her feet. To think that Damien would look the other way while she indulged herself to their available charms! The thought sent a tiny thrill down Davina’s spine. She cared not if he had affairs of his own
,
of course, so long as he did not neglect her in the process. Their wedding night would be soon enough to reacquaint themselves with each other in the bedroom.

Davina smiled. “I understand perfectly, darling,” she said with a wide smile.

“I will instruct Jarvis to send someone for your things. I suppose you can start moving into your new chambers immediately.”

Davina watched him go and then fell on to the bed with a whoop of delight. She had not been so sure of her plan in the beginning.
Davina
had panicked slightly when Damien had informed her that she was to be examined by his own physician. She knew that surely her lie would be found out and Damien would kick her out the moment he discovered the truth.

Luckily for her, Doctor Keane’s eyes had fixed on her full breasts as soon as he walked into the room. Davina knew immediately that she could have the doctor under her power with a few sexual favors and knew that she would do whatever it took to get the man to lie for her. She had flirted and smiled suggestively, she had taken every opportunity to draw his eyes to her ample charms. When he asked her to disrobe for him so that he could examine her, she had done so slowly, tantalizing him as she removed each article of clothing.

She had dropped her gown into a puddle around her feet and thrust her proud breasts forward as she dropped her petticoats and chemise down to the floor to join them.
Davina
had crawled onto the bed and offered herself to him in a blatant invitation and he had leapt at the chance to discover the delights that awaited him between her creamy thighs.

Doctor Keane was not unattractive, though he was a bit plain to look at and a little on the thin side. His dull blonde hair did little to brighten his appearance, but when she removed his spectacles she found he possessed soft blue eyes that were actually his best feature.

She had to clap her hand over his mouth to silence his moans and groans as he lifted her and pressed her against the wall and drove into her wildly. Eventually she offered him her large breast and he suckled hungrily and silently as took her up against the wall. She was not at all unpleased with the doctor who was a bit clumsy, but not totally inefficient. She found more pleasure in the thought that they could be caught at any moment than anything else.

Once they were finished
,
she secured a promise from the doctor that he would tell Damien anything he wanted. Of course
,
the man expected to visit with her again and Davina found she did not think the idea too repulsive. She rather liked to idea of taking the doctor as her lover for a little while, if for no other reason than to secure her secret until she could come up with a baby.

Orphanages were full of unwanted children and of course Davina would find a boy. Her son would inherit everything that belonged to his father, including the throne. Davina’s place at Largess Hall would then be secure.

Finding that she was exhausted from her romp with Doctor Keane, Davina curled up beneath the covers on the bed and quickly fell asleep.

Chapter 22

Tonight was the night. Damien couldn’t figure out how, but for some reason, the palpable tension in the air told him that
this
would be the night he would face Nicolai for the last time. One of them would not walk away alive and due to the current turn of events in his life, Damien found himself not caring which one of them it was. He sat before the fire in the green salon, slowly draining his second glass of brandy, staring thoughtfully into the fire.

Davina’s things had all been moved into the adjoining suit beside his the
evening
before. She was already making plans to redecorate
.
Damien knew the project would cost him a great deal of money, but he did not care. So long as Davina stayed out of his way, she could do whatever the hell she wanted.

Guests had already started arriving for the wedding
. T
he wedding of King Damien and the mysterious young Esmeralda whom no one could quite figure out. Very few in his household knew about Esmeralda’s background and for some reasons his servants had not gossiped overmuch about her identity. Many still assumed she was some foreign princess come to be his bride.

Of course
,
now explanations to the contrary had to be made. Damien left it up to Jarvis to make the announcements as to the change of bride, though the date and time of the ceremony were to remain the same. There would be much gossip and speculation, but no one would dare to question him. One of the many perks of being king, he supposed.

He looked out into the approaching sunset, stirred to attention by the howling winds and flurries of rapidly falling snow. A blizzard was upon them, another reason that Damien felt confident that Nicolai would be coming to him any moment. He remembered his vision clearly
.
Nicolai walking toward him as he stood on the palace steps, walking through darkness and whirling snow.

Lost in thought, he did not at first hear the commotion just outside the doors of the salon. Very faintly, he thought he could discern the voice being carried in on the winter storm. It sounded like a man and as the sound became clearer, it sounded as if his name were being called.

Damien turned and inclined his head in the direction of the noise, trying to hear over the pattering feet and mumbling voices in the main hall.

“Damien! King Damien!” The voice was unmistakable now, though it was hardly more than a whisper on the wind. Damien strode toward to doors just as Jarvis swung them open. The voice seemed to echo through the main hall from outside and Damien knew in that instant who it was. “Damien!” he called, growing bolder and louder as he entered the courtyard. Damien could almost see the arrogant stride of his long legs and the determined set of his arrogant chin.

“Nicolai,” he said, turning toward Jarvis. “My sword,” he commanded, moving through the salon into the main hall. Though it was freezing outside, Damien declined the greatcoat and gloves offered to him by a footman. Damien knew swords would be his brother’s weapon of choice and he needed to be as unencumbered as possible. He rolled his shirtsleeves to the elbow and accepted his sword from Jarvis.

Damien studied the ornate hilt of the sword that had been wielded by generations of kings. He felt that perhaps some remnant of his father’s spirit still lingered there, as well as Lionus’.
Damien
could still hear Lionus’ voice pleading, commanding him not to fail him. “I won’t fail you, Lionus,” he promised as he strapped the sword around his narrow hips.

Jarvis grasped his shoulder, his face filled with fatherly concern. “Palace sentinels are prepared to take him into custody for you. He is mad to think he can just walk up the steps of the palace and murder our king.”

Damien clasped Jarvis in a tight bear hug. “No Jarvis,” he said to the man who had been like another father to him his entire life. “The palace guards will stand by in the event that this is an ambush. I know Nicolai, he will want the pleasure of killing me himself.”

“And you, Your Highness?”

“I would take great pleasure in killing him myself.”

Jarvis relinquished his hold on Damien and nodded, his jaw set with the same determination that hardened Damien’s features. “Finish it, then.”

Damien allowed a footman to open the massive door for him and allowed ten palace guards to follow him out into the courtyard. The rest were ordered to stay in the main hall and await Damien’s command.

Damien stopped at the top of the stairs, bringing his guards to a halt behind him. He could faintly make out the gleam of something silver coming toward him through the night. As the black-cloaked figure drew near, he saw the silver mask glowing in the moonlight over his cousin’s face. The silver head of his cane glinted menacingly in his hand.

“All hail, King Damien!” mocked his cousin’s voice from behind the mask. He came to a standstill at the center of the courtyard and bowed; the irony of the gesture was not lost on Damien.

“You were foolish to come alone Nicolai. Even more foolish to think this plot of yours would gain anything more than your death.”

Nicolai laughed through the twisted smile of the mask’s mouth. “Who says I am alone? My men are at the ready and waiting, close enough to hear what we are saying. Once I have killed you
,
they will storm the palace. All who reject me as their king will be put to death.”

Damien could hardly believe his ears. This man who had been so close to him had never sounded so angry or irrational. “You’re mad!” Damien cried, taking the steps one at a time, down toward the center of the courtyard. “Do you honestly think you will ever be king? The people of Cardenas won’t stand for it!”

“The people have no idea what is good for them. Once I am in power, I will make it known that all who oppose me will be put to death. Naturally
,
I will start with your mother and the more loyal members of your staff. Perhaps I’ll even have a little fun with your little Gypsy girl before I carve her to pieces.”

Damien’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He knew Nicolai was baiting him, drawing upon his anger to make him irrational; it would put him at a great disadvantage in the fight. Damien fought for control. “This is your last chance to stand down, Nicolai,” he said calmly, taking a few more steps into the courtyard. The moon was full and high overhead against a cloudless sky, providing the perfect light for a late night fight and Damien was now close enough to reach out and touch his cousin. “Tell your men to surrender and I will have mercy on you all and allow you to live.”

Nicola’s laughter was an ugly and harsh sound, one that caused Damien’s blood to boil. He gripped his sword handle until he thought he would snap it in two.
             

“Surrender to you? Don’t be ridiculous,” Nicolai scoffed. “We were just starting to have fun.”

“Since you have refused my generous offer, I feel the need to tell you that at the end of this night, you will be dead. I will not allow you entrance into this palace after your mindless slaughter of your family.”

“My family? My family lied to me! Tricked me! My own father pawned me off on his spineless brother and turned his back on me.”

“Father loved you. He loved Aunt Margaret as well. He only did what his duty demanded of him.”

“Adare never looked back. If he’d had any love for her, he would have seen how living without him had affected her. She spent much of the rest of her life nearly sick with longing for a love she could no longer have. Even on her deathbed, when she told me that he was my father, she declared her love for him. My father was standing right there and could nothing more than drown his sorrows in drink because the woman he so desperately loved wanted his brother!”

“Take off your mask,” Damien said, searching for Nicolai’s eyes through the dark slits for eyes. “I want to look upon your face before I run you through.”

Nicolai gladly obliged, tossing the silver mask aside; it clattered against the cobblestones. A pair of green eyes met his and Damien wondered how he never noticed the resemblance. Even now in his anger
,
he had to admit that he and Nicolai had more similarities to each other than he had with his other brothers.

“I had hoped you would be smart enough to leave the country with your Gypsy dancer like you’d planned,” Nicolai said once he was free of the mask. “I never thought I would have to wrest the crown from your grasp. Did you lie to me when you said you didn’t want it?”

“No,” Damien admitted. “Even now the crown weighs heavily on my head because of the way it has fallen to me. I’ll be damned if I allow it to fall to you after what you’ve done
,
you bastard!”

“Bastard.” Nicolai smirked. “Rather a fitting title for a cast-off son, don’t you think?”

Damien had grown tired of talking. The longer Nicolai stood before him, the greater his anger became. He knew the time had come to end things.
Damien
unsheathed his
weapon
. Wordlessly, Nicolai grasped the head of his walking stick and pulled. A long narrow sword was unsheathed from the cane, which doubled as a sheath.

Nicolai tossed the sheath aside and removed his cape, tossing it aside as well. “This ends tonight,” he said, raising his
blade
in salute to his brother. Damien gripped his sword tightly, poised and at the ready for Nicolai’s attack.