Adam shook his head. "From Nevada Territory, ma'am."
"We understand that you have gained ownership of a hunting lodge here in our beloved Highlands."
"Yes, ma'am," Adam answered. "Larchmont Lodge near the village of Kinlochen."
"I see." She studied Adam for a moment. "We understand that Princess Giana sought sanctuary in your hunting lodge before you took up residence there."
Adam nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"As an American, you had no idea she was a princess?"
"No, ma'am. She was disguised as a chambermaid."
Queen Victoria laughed at the idea of Princess Giana disguising herself as a chambermaid. Once, many years ago, before she became queen, she had delighted in disguising herself and appearing for dinner dressed in all manner of costumes. "So, you have come to Balmoral as her representative?"
"Yes, ma'am," Adam acknowledged. "She asked me to deliver this letter to you." He glanced at Lord Templeston who retrieved the letter George had addressed to the queen from the desk before presenting it to her.
The queen didn't open the letter, but held it on her lap while she looked at Adam, and asked, "How is our goddaughter?"
"She is an extraordinary woman, ma'am," Adam answered.
The queen smiled. "Of that I've no doubt. But how is she, Mr. McKendrick? How is she coping with her terrible bereavement?"
Adam stared at the tiny woman, still grieving for her husband, still wearing her widow's weeds and white mourning cap and understood what the queen wanted to know. "Her Highness is coping as well as can be expected in light of her tremendous loss—of her parents and of her homeland. She dresses all in black, ma'am, as she mourns her loss. But she bears her grief as one would expect of a princess and sheds her tears in private."
The queen nodded her approval, then broke the wax seal on the letter, unfolded the paper and read the note Giana had written. When she looked up again, she pinned Adam with her sharp, no-nonsense gaze. "Tell me, Mr. McKendrick, do you know what is in this letter?" She tapped the paper against the edge of her chair.
"No, ma'am."
"How do we know this note is from Princess Giana? How do we know you did not write the letter and seal it with a stolen seal? How do we know you are not in league with her kidnappers?"
Adam met the queen's steady gaze. "You've only my word, Your Majesty, and the word of Princess Giana."
She smiled at Adam, then glanced at the note again, and laughed. "Princess Giana's message was as well-chosen as her messenger. She, alone, knew that we would understand."
The queen turned the letter so Adam and Lord Templeston could see it.
Adam was clearly surprised. The letter wasn't a letter at all. It was a drawing. A pen and ink sketch of Wagner asleep in the center of Adam's bed—head comfortably pillowed, back curved, and all four paws pointing toward the ceiling. A cloud-like bubble above the dog's head contained sketches of a tea table, complete with cakes and whole salmon, and bore the caption: Wagner Dreams of Iced Teacakes and Salmon, 1874. To Our Beloved Teacher, V. R from her grateful student. G. R.
"We taught her to draw and paint when she was no more than four or five," the queen explained. "And we have continued to exchange drawings from that day until this one. Mostly of dogs and horses." She looked over at Adam and at Lord Templeston. "Princess Giana excels in the drawing of dogs. When she visits, we pack picnic lunches that always contain salmon as the main course and teacakes for dessert. We drive out onto the moor and sit together for hours in companionable silence, with our trusted Mr. Brown looking out for us." She nodded toward her Highland Servant. "While we sketch."
After carefully refolding the drawing, Queen Victoria rose from her chair and walked over to the Scotsman. He nodded once, then rang the bellpull suspended from the ceiling. When the maid arrived, the Highlander repeated the queen's request and waited at the door until the maid returned with the queen's latest sketchbook and a box of pencils, and a small silver-framed photograph of the late prince consort.
The Highlander presented the sketchbook and box of pencils to the queen and kept the framed photograph in readiness as he returned to his position at her back.
"Please sit, Mr. McKendrick, as we shall return Her Highness's message in kind."
With those words, the queen took out a pencil and began to draw.
When she finished, she presented Adam with a sketch of Wagner wearing a top hat and tails and a much more elegant female wolfhound wearing a veil and a wreath of orange blossoms. There was a Gothic arched window above the canine pair bearing the Karolyan coat of arms and a circle of bulldogs, wearing the emblem of queen's Coldstream Guards, stood guard around them.
Adam was amazed by the queen's talent and by the symbolism of the drawing. The caption read: Long life and felicitations from H.M.V.R. to H.S.H. G. R. He looked up from the drawing and met the queen's sparkling gaze.
"We kept our drawings secret," she explained. "Sharing them as a form of secret code known only to us. Something special to be exchanged between a royal godmother and a royal goddaughter." She handed Adam the other drawing.
It was an amazing likeness of him signed by the queen.
She smiled at him and Adam caught a glimpse of the young woman she had been.
"To thank you," she said. "For providing comfort and shelter to our goddaughter."
"It has been an honor, ma'am," Adam said.
The queen turned to Lord Templeston. "We should like to send a number of our own Coldstream guards to Mr. Me-Kendrick's hunting lodge to escort Her Serene Highness and Mr. McKendrick back to Balmoral. If you have no objection." She looked at Adam. "We should like to see you married. We shall arrange for the ceremony to be held here at Balmoral in two days' time. You shall honeymoon here as my guests—"
"But, Your Majesty," Lord Templeston interrupted. "Lady Templeston and I were hoping that Princess Giana and Mr. McKendrick would spend time with us at Swanslea Park."
The queen turned her attention to her adviser. "You and Lady Templeston shall join us here. It's been too long since we have seen our dear Wren and we so much enjoy our art lessons."
Templeston nodded.
"Two days, Your Majesty?" There was no way to disguise the note of uncertainty in Adam's tone of voice. "What about Prince Victor?"
The queen frowned. "We shall handle Prince Victor," she said. "We shall take great pleasure in seeing that particular royal usurper squashed like a bug." She motioned for her Highland Servant. "And we shall take great delight in arranging the princess's wedding while we await her arrival. Please give these to our goddaughter with our great love and tell her that it would please us greatly for her to wear the cameo our dear Albert gave to us." Queen Victoria reached up and unpinned a black onyx and mother of pearl cameo from her lace collar and handed it to her servant who handed the pin and the silver-framed photograph to Adam.
"Thank you, ma'am," Adam replied.
"You are most welcome." The queen rose from her chair.
Adam and Lord Templeston bowed as she walked past. Moments later, she and her servant had disappeared through the massive doors.
Adam stood staring until Lord Templeston clapped him on the back: "Congratulations, my boy! The queen doesn't present a photograph of Prince Albert to everyone. The fact that she did means she approves of you and of the marriage."
"I don't care about the queen's approval," Adam said. "We don't require her approval—only yours."
"Her approval of your marriage will go a long way in dissuading Prince Victor from continuing his pursuit of the princess."
Adam shrugged. "As long as the princess is safe."
"She will be now," Templeston told him. "Prince Victor would have to be insane to defy the British Empire."
"A sane man would not commit regicide," Adam reminded him.
"Quite right," Templeston agreed. "But now, Prince Victor has more to lose."
"How much more?" Adam asked.
"His life should you decide to end it." Lord Templeston's reply was m
atter of fact.
"You're granting the princess permission to marry me and granting me permission to kill the royal cousin?"
"If needs be." Lord Templeston met Adam's gaze. "And neither I nor the queen are condoning murder," he said. "We are simply reminding you that you're an American. While Her Majesty's government would frown upon its soldiers or citizens taking arms against a member of a royal family who happened to be visiting our country, it would certainly understand if you, an American citizen residing in Scotland, found it necessary to protect yourself—and your bride, Her Majesty's own goddaughter, from Prince Victor's murderous wrath."
"I see," Adam said.
"I thought you would," Lord Templeston answered.
"You can't touch him. Even to protect the princess."
"The Coldstream guards can protect the princess, but they cannot kill Prince Victor in order to do so, whereas you ..."
"Can do whatever I need to do to protect Her Highness from harm."
Lord Templeston nodded. "Quite right."
"The idea of waiting two days to get married makes me uneasy."
"Then don't wait."
"But the queen said ..."
"Yes, she did," Templeston agreed. "But there's no law that says you can't have multiple wedding ceremonies. You can marry the princess when you get home and marry her two days from now here at Balmoral."
"I can't thank you enough—" Adam began.
Lord Templeston cut him off. "We'll be here when you arrive for your second wedding." He grinned. "In the meantime, I'll set things in motion by telegraphing the vicar in Kinlochen. I'll have him waiting at the lodge when you arrive."
The journey home was uneventful, but Larchmont Lodge was in chaos when Adam arrived. Lord and Lady Marshfeld and entourage had arrived for a surprise visit four days before the date of the postponed preview of the lodge and the household had been thrown into disarray.
Adam knew something was wrong when Henri, dressed in his best imitation of a butler's suit, opened the front door. "Good evening, sir, it's nice to have you home again."
Adam stared at him. "Where's Albert?"
"Gone," Henri replied. "They're all gone."
"What do you mean gone? Gone where?"
Henri shrugged. "They left. All of them. Including Mr. O'Brien who was very disappointed not to get a game of golf in. He said he particularly liked the eighteenth hole."
Adam looked askance at Henri. Murphy didn't play the game of golf. He did, however, know where the clubhouse was and the clubhouse had wine cellars. "What about Ma—?"
Henri shook his head and put a finger to his mouth to signal Adam to shut up, then spoke in rapid French. "Lord and Lady Marshfeld have arrived with a gentleman from London and the Prince Regent of Karolya."
"Bloody hell!" Adam said.
"Adam! Surprise!"
He turned around to find his sister Kirstin gliding the main staircase. "What are you doing here?"
"We decided to surprise you." Kirstin was bubbling with excitement. "We were invited to Balmoral and decided to surprise you."
"We?"
"Marshfeld and your father and Prince Victor and I."
Every word she spoke fell like a hammer blow to his heart. "Marshfeld, Prince Victor, and my father!"
"Yes," Kirstin said. "Isn't it exciting? I've found your father!"
"Who the hell asked you to meddle in my affairs? Who the hell asked you to find my father?" Adam demanded.
"I did."
Adam turned. "Lord Bascombe, what are you doing here?"
Bascombe smiled. "I came to play golf with my son."
The world seemed to be spinning the wrong way on its axis. Adam sat down on the nearest chair to keep from falling. He looked at Bascombe "You?"
Bascombe nodded.
"Why?"
"It was a chance for me to get to know my son."
"You son of a bitch!" Adam jumped to his feet, raked his hands through his hair, then drew back his fist and punched Lord Bascombe in the nose. "You had twenty-eight years to get to know your son! Where the hell were you when I was growing up? Where the hell were you when I was labeled a bastard and forced to fight to defend my mother's reputation?" Adam shouted, standing over Bascombe, looking down on his long lost father. "I needed you then! I sure as hell don't need you now!"
Bascombe pushed himself to his feet and wiped the blood from his nose with a white linen handkerchief, wiggling the cartilage to see if Adam had broken it. "Maybe not." He stared at Adam. "But your sister does."
"What?" Adam looked from Kirstin to Bascombe.
"Prince Victor, Adam. You warned me about Prince Victor, but I... I..." Kirstin began to cry.
"What is it, Kirstin? What has he done?" Adam demanded.
"His Royal Highness Prince Victor of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya has designs on your sister," Bascombe told him. "She came to me because she was afraid you'd think she was crying wolf and because Marshfeld is encouraging her to pursue a— shall we say—friendship with the prince."
"M-M-Marshfeld w-wants me to go to Karolya with Prince Victor and pretend to be that missing princess," Kirstin sobbed. "But something happened to her and I'm afraid that if I go with the prince something bad will happen to me ..."
Adam blanched. His face lost all color as he turned to his father. "Oh my God!" He shoved Kirstin into his father's arms. "Where's Victor?"
"When we arrived your wolfhound was in the garden. Prince Victor said the dog reminded him of home. He said he'd been confined long enough and he wanted to see the countryside. He borrowed a horse from your stables and rode out. Marshfeld went with him," Bascombe answered.
"Where's the dog?"
"Prince Victor followed him toward the golf links."
"Jesus!" Adam nearly panicked. "If anything happens to that dog, George will kill me. I've got to go!"
"Adam!" Kirstin shouted. "Who's George?"
Adam didn't answer. He simply took off in the direction of the golf links. Bascombe and Kirstin exchanged looks and ran after him.
Adam's long legs ate up the distance to the golf links. He ran the entire way, approaching the eighteenth hole only to find it empty. There was no one about. He turned toward the clubhouse and caught a flash of light from the window.
Murphy O'Brien unlocked the clubhouse door and allowed Adam entrance, but slammed the door in Kirstin's face.
She pounded on the door, loudly voicing her displeasure until Adam reluctantly nodded to Murphy to open the door.
"You're in," Adam snapped when Kirstin and Bascombe entered the clubhouse. "Now, stay the devil out of my way." He turned to Murphy. "What happened?"
O'Brien glowered at Kirstin. "Lady Marshfeld and her guests took us by surprise," O'Brien admitted. "But Josef recognized Prince Victor when he came into the stables demanding a mount saddled. Josef hurried to the lodge and warned us. Gordon went for help."
Isobel, Albert, Brenna, Josef, and Max stood before him— Max, resplendent in full dress uniform and sword—but George was no where in sight. "Where's George?" Adam demanded.
"She's fine," Murphy assured him. "We've been watching for you. What took you so long?" He pocketed his watch as Adam entered the main room of the clubhouse. Adam realized that the flash of light he'd seen had been the glint of sunlight off the cover of O'Brien's silver watch.
"I had an audience with Lord Templeston and the queen," he answered. "Where's George?"
"She's fine," Murphy repeated. "Are you armed?"
Adam shook his head.
O'Brien opened his jacket. He was wearing a holster and a Colt revolver buckled around his hip. He made a clucking sound with his tongue, then removed a small revolver from his jacket pocket and handed it to Adam. "We collected Georgiana and the rest of the family and brought them here to wait for you. How the hell did he find her?"
"He didn't," Adam said. "He was invited to Balmoral as a ruse in order to trap him. He arrived early because Kirstin decided that as long as they were in Scotland, they should
surprise us with a visit."
O'Brien frowned. "I thought you told her the lodge was for gentlemen only," he joked weakly.
"You know Kirstin," Adam reminded him. "She never listens to me. Where's George?" he asked again. But this time, nobody answered.
Wagner trotted over and nudged Adam's hand. Adam looked over at O'Brien. "Wagner's here?" "Of course he is. He goes where I go." Adam turned around to find Giana dressed in black except for the wreath of orange blossoms in her hair coming up the stairs from the wine cellar. He forgot about his sister and his father. He forgot about Wagner. He forgot about Prince Victor. He forgot about everything except George. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. Adam looked at her and said what was in his heart. "I love you."
George burst into tears and threw herself in his arms. "And I love you."
"Where were you?" he asked. "Downstairs with the vicar," she said. Adam breathed a sigh of relief. Giana stared at him. "Oh, Adam! Victor is here!" "Don't worry, Princess," Adam told her, holding her close to his heart. "Everything will be all right. You're safe here. I promise."
The vicar came up the stairs. "I thought I was invited here to perform a wedding."
Adam ignored the vicar and stared down at George. "Are you ready?" She nodded.
Adam turned to the vicar. "We're ready." They exchanged vows in the wine cellar. "Do you—" the vicar looked at him. "Adam McKendrick," Adam said.
"Do you, Adam McKendrick, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" "I do."
"And do you—" The vicar looked to Giana. "Georgiana Victoria Elizabeth May." "Georgiana Victoria Elizabeth May, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" "I do."
"Do you have rings?" the vicar asked. Adam turned to O'Brien. "Jesus, Joseph and Mary! I forgot the ring!"
"I have them," Giana said. "I have rings." She turned her her back to the vicar.
Realizing her intent, Adam turned with her, protecting her from prying eyes as she reached inside the bodice of her gown .She produced the black pearl ring and the Karolyan Seal of State she had hidden in her bodice since the night Adam had cut the chain from around her waist so that she might use the seal to seal her letters.
"Your undergarments are no longer the safest place to keep your jewels, Princess, now that you've given me access to your hidden treasures," he whispered. "However, I do have a strong steel safe in the library. You might consider keeping either your jewelry or your undergarments in it."
Ever a Princess Page 26