Heart of Mine

by Lindsay Bergman

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Marie snapped angrily, scratching her left arm. Her agitated expression transformed within the blink of an eye. She spoke with such a detached calm that it was unnerving. “Yes, I do hate you. You stole Prince Alexander from me and now you’re going to pay.”

  “I never stole Alexander from you,” I argued, ignoring the voice of self-preservation within that urged me not to bait her. “His heart has never been yours.”

  Marie’s expression darkened, her upper lip curling. “No, his heart was mine, but then you got in the way! You’ve been in the way ever since I was seventeen.” The more she spoke, the more upset she seemed to become, her hatred for me stronger than I ever realized. “You ruined our first date when you fell off that horse and broke your collarbone. Alexander called me from the hospital to cancel our date because he didn’t want to leave you. Then you interrupted our kiss in the garden because of that red-headed boy, and somehow you bewitched Alexander and stole him from me!”

  My heart blazed with denial at her words. Even though King Mathis had tried to push them together, Alexander had never dated Marie, and he certainly never loved her. She was delusional. Except ... she knew too many details about our past. Things she couldn’t have known unless she had been there. Like that time in the garden when Alexander had saved me from William when he tried to kiss me. I remembered noticing how disheveled and flushed the prince had looked, and his evasive response when I’d asked if he’d been kissing a girl behind the hedges. How could Marie possibly know about that moment unless she had been the girl Alexander was kissing?

  A cruel smile spread across her face. “Oh, poor Cinderella. You never realized how close Alexander and I had been before you ruined everything.” She drew closer, her perfect face only inches away from mine. “I’m his dirty little secret. His heart was mine long before you were ever in the picture. Once I free him from you he’ll be mine again—and you’ll be dead and buried.”

  “So you think you can just get rid of me and then Alexander will fall right back into your lap?” I scoffed, trying to appear braver than I felt. “He’ll just fall in love with Emma, and you’ll never have him.”

  “Then I’ll just have to get rid of her, too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Over the following two days we traveled deeper into the dark forest, moving miles away from the nearest civilization. As they towed me along on a lead rope tied to my wrists, I spent hours lost in thought, wondering about Marie’s plan for me. If she wanted me out of the way, why was she hauling me through the wilderness when she could have just left me in the house to burn? What had happened to my family—and Papa and Gerard? Were they really gone? I pushed the thought away, unwilling to let myself even consider the possibility. My thoughts turned instead to Alexander. I’d been gone for almost forty-eight hours now. Did he think I was dead; killed in one of the fires after recklessly trying to save the ones I loved? Did he know that Marie was behind everything? If he thought I was still alive, would my prince come for me?

  Too many questions, and not a single answer.

  Each night the blond-haired young man named Paul tied me to a tree, then they took alternating watches with a loaded rifle while the other person slept in a mummy sleeping bag. Montana summer nights were surprisingly cold, dropping into the fifties and even forties most nights in August. Shivering, I was grateful for the down jacket, hat and blanket they had given me in order to keep me from freezing throughout the night. Marie was painstakingly careful about keeping me alive. Clearly she had an ulterior plan, though I didn’t know what.

  We were in a heavily wooded part of the forest, so closely surrounded by the thickness of trees that we couldn’t even see the night sky overhead. Without light from the moon or stars we camped in absolute darkness, barely able to see a few inches past the ends of our noses. Unable to see Marie or Paul, I was unnerved and tried to use my sense of hearing to keep tabs on them. I was afraid of what they might do to me in the dark.

  They had packed enough camping gear to last for over a week, including dehydrated packs of food. Around mid-day, we had taken a short break so that Marie could force-feed me disgusting bites of beef stroganoff and a single bottle of water.

  “I don’t want you to starve,” Marie had said with a wicked smile. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  At one point this afternoon, Marie had disappeared for almost an hour in order to hunt. I nearly fell over in shock when she had returned with two game birds. As it turned out, Marie was an expert marksman after being taught about the great outdoors by her father, the Duke of Anjou. As she roasted the mountain grouse over a small campfire, Marie had explained all about her childhood with a father who had always wanted a son, but got stuck with a daughter instead. The duke had taught Marie how to camp, fish, shoot, hunt, track—and basically, how to survive out in the wilderness.

  By the light of the small campfire, I watched her pull the meat off the bed of hot coals and peek under the wrappings of edible leaves to check the doneness. Satisfied, she began dousing the fire and ignored my objection to leave it for the warmth.

  “No lights,” she said sternly. “They’ll be coming after us soon.”

  The campfire went out suddenly, throwing us into piercing black darkness.

  I swallowed nervously. “Who’s coming after us?”

  Marie didn’t appear inclined to answer me. There was a long stretch of silence and only the night sounds of the forest could be heard.

  “Are you scared of the dark, Cinderella?” Marie’s voice asked eerily out of the darkness. I was grateful she couldn’t see me shiver.

  “I just like keeping a close eye on my enemies,” I replied, hoping she couldn’t hear the tremor in my voice.

  Marie laughed, the sound almost manic. “That’s not any fun. It ruins the surprise of the kill.” Her steps were so quiet that I didn’t even hear her move, but suddenly she was crouching down next to me with one hand pressed against my throat. “Don’t you like surprises, Cinderella?” she whispered into my ear, causing a spiral of fear to shoot down my spine. She squeezed my throat, briefly cutting off my airway before letting go and turning away with another manic laugh.

  For the first time, I was truly afraid of Lady Marie Delacroix.

  Two hours past day break I trailed slowly behind Marie as she tugged impatiently on my rope, making me stumble repeatedly. After I fell for the third time, she whirled around to glare at me and snarled viciously. “Come on!” She scratched her left arm. “We need to cover as much distance as possible before nightfall.” She turned away and tossed the lead rope to Paul, who caught it one-handed. “You deal with her.”

  I watched her stomp off, feeling relieved at her departure. I was exhausted and weak. Basically running on fumes after two days of little food, water and sleep. I was desperate for a break. I cringed away when Paul reached out to grasp me firmly by the elbows. He lifted me effortlessly up to my feet, his brown eyes pausing on my face.

  Although Paul had barely spoken since they’d kidnapped me, I still felt unsettled by him. I knew he was younger than me, but he was strong and built like an ox. His very presence alone was intimidating. He’d made no inappropriate advances so far, but constantly watched me with hungry eyes that made me nervous.

  As if he could read the direction of my thoughts, Paul glanced over his shoulder at Marie, who was busy digging through a backpack. With his gaze fixed on my face, Paul took a step closer and held me in place with the rope when I tried to move away. My gut twisted nervously, my breathing ragged with sudden fear. His hands slid up my arms, firm and unrelenting. His eyes dropped down to my mouth. I tried not to panic as he lowered his head and pressed his lips brutally against mine, demanding and fierce, his kiss almost painful—like he’d never kissed anyone before and didn’t understand how to be gentle. Regardless, the feel of his lips on mine made my stomach churn sickeningly.

  When he finally released me, I was shaking and took an unsteady step back, afraid to let him touch me a
gain. Seeming pleased by his idea of prowess, Paul smiled suddenly and the sharp lines of his face transformed. For a moment, I stared in surprise at the tall, golden haired young man that I suddenly recognized. Then my eyes narrowed as rage spiraled through me.

  “You’re the photographer from the theater!” I shouted, making Paul blink in surprise. “You took a picture of me with Alexander and Emma. Then you cut me out of it before you sent it to the tabloids.” A thought suddenly sprang into my mind. I was filled with both fear and outrage. “Have you been taking pictures of me for Marie? Are you the person who’s been following me around?”

  “That’s right, chérie,” Marie said calmly, stepping into view. “Paul spent two years following you around this dirty little country town, watching you and taking pictures for me to use in my revenge. He even followed you around Coradova until Alexander assigned that royal guard to you for protection. Then I needed him to stay out of sight. I didn’t want anyone to suspect Paul and risk it getting back to me.”

  “Why, what’s the connection?” I demanded, feeling too angry to care about the repercussions. “Is he your lover? It’s not like Alexander will care—he doesn’t want you anyway!”

  Marie slapped me hard across the face, her eyes flashing dangerously. “He’s my younger half-brother. My father cheated on my mom with a filthy American commoner like you,” she spat. “But she died during childbirth and Papa brought him to Coradova. He was raised in an orphanage until he ran away at sixteen. He doesn’t have any other family except for me. So I help take care of him and he does me favors—like stalking you. Now enough of this.” She grabbed the lead rope and viciously yanked me forward. I tripped and fell, jamming my knee into a rock, but clambered back up to my feet before Paul could touch me again.

  Cruel hazel eyes met mine. “We’re not stopping again until nightfall. If you can’t keep up then we’ll drag you along. So I suggest that you be very careful not to fall.”

  True to her word, Marie kept us moving at a grueling pace. She was agitated and impatient. Whenever she looked at me her hazel eyes were wild. She was continuously alternating between a calm or frenzied state, balancing on the edge of sanity—unhinged and unpredictable. I was deeply beginning to fear for my life.

  I tried to keep up as best I could, limping painfully along behind Paul. Although I stumbled and fell several times, I forced myself back up to my feet before I could be dragged along, and Paul—despite his unsettling kiss earlier—seemed more patient than Marie and allowed me to get back up before pulling me along again.

  Marie hurried us along like a slave-driver, certain that someone was coming after us. Maybe my parents had discovered that I hadn’t died in one of the fires and had sent Search and Rescue to find me? Or, my grandfather had taught Dad how to track and hunt as a boy. Maybe he had caught sight of our trail leading off into the woods. I tried not to feel too hopeful, certain that I would probably be dead before they ever found me.

  When the last rays of sunlight had merged into a pink and lavender sunset, Marie finally told us to stop and make camp. For the fourth night in a row, Paul tied me to a tree while Marie set out sleeping bags and dehydrated meals. He was working on a knot near my right elbow.

  After glancing at a distracted Marie, I whispered to him, “Paul, you don’t have to do this. Let me go and come with me back to Coradova.” His hands stilled on the rope, and he looked up at me with interest. I hurried on, not wanting him to misunderstand what I was offering. “The Royal Family will reward you for saving me and they’ll help take care of you. Maybe you’ll meet a girl there that you like.”

  “I like you,” Paul said, his eyes intent on my face.

  “Oh ... I like you, too,” I stammered, adding, “We can be friends, Paul. Would you like to be my friend?” I glanced briefly over his shoulder, using the last of the dimming sunset to see that Marie was busy checking through her stockpile of ammo.

  Paul studied me for a moment, then nodded. “If I help you escape, will you be my girlfriend?”

  I held my breath for a split-second, not wanting to lie to him, but also desperate to gain his help. But before I could answer, Marie barked his name, startling me. Paul blinked and turned to his sister.

  “You should eat and get some rest,” Marie told him, her eyes softening as she looked at his face. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  As Paul settled down to eat, Marie knelt down beside me and held a water bottle up to my parched lips. Beyond thirsty, I gulped it down. Water trickled down my chin and neck, soaking my shirt underneath the thick down jacket. When I was finished, the sunset was gone and we were surrounded by complete and utter darkness. I couldn’t see Paul at all, but Marie was close enough that I could make out the faint outline of her silhouette. There was a rustling as she prepared one of the dehydrated meals, then I felt the touch of a spoon against my lips. My stomach growled longingly. Too hungry to care, I let Marie feed me every last disgusting bite, although it was nowhere near enough to satisfy my hunger.

  Marie roughly patted my cheek. “I hope you enjoyed what might be your last meal, Cinderella,” her silky voice spoke from the pitch-black darkness.

  “Why are you doing this?” I demanded, sick of her games. “If you hate me so much then why haven’t you killed me already.”

  “Because it’s not the right time.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  I heard a click, then a flame burst into life in front of my face, making me blink. Holding up a lighter, Marie leaned closer, giving me a perfect view of her face.

  Her wild hazel eyes studied me expectantly, her crimson red smile wicked. “I’m waiting for Alexander to be here,” she whispered. “He’s coming for you.”

  I swallowed nervously, thinking that she was delusional. All this time we’d been running from imaginary ghosts. “No, he’s not. We’re not engaged anymore. He has no reason to come after me.”

  “He loves you, so he’ll come for you.” Marie’s deranged conviction was unnerving. “And when he does, he’s going to watch you die, knowing that he was too late to save you—and he’ll have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.”

  “I thought you wanted to marry him,” I pointed out, confused by her sudden turn-about. “He’ll never love you if he finds out what you’ve done to me.”

  Marie ignored me and continued to speak with a growing frenzy. “He betrayed me. Now I want him to suffer. To feel the overwhelming pain of heartbreak, like he’s been shattered into a million pieces. Then he’ll know what he’s done to me.”

  Suddenly the light went out. With a pounding heart I listened frantically for the sound of movement. Where was she? A heartbeat later, I was struck hard across the face, the force of the blow whipping my head to the side. My cheek burned and I could taste blood from my newly split lip. I tensed, waiting to see if she would hit me again. Instead, the darkness was filled with maniacal laughter. A shiver of fear trickled down my spine.

  “Don’t be scared of the dark, Cinderella,” Marie’s voice spoke from the darkness to my left. “Savor it ... because you might not get to see the light of morning.”

  As I heard her finally move away, I trembled and tried to slow the frantic hammering of my heart. Although according to Marie, my heartbeats were numbered. I let out a ragged breath and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the piercing blackness of night. Desperate for a distraction from the consuming fear, I tried to picture the faces of my loved ones. The images flitted from my parents, grandpa and sister to the Royal Family of Coradova, finally stopping with Alexander.

  My prince, my love. In my mind’s eye, I drew a picture of his every perfect feature. His raven-black hair, and the feel of it running through my fingers. The sharply defined jaw and long line of his nose. The dark eyebrows, and his sexy, dazzling smile with the little smirk that he often wore in amusement. The striking blue eyes that seemed to look straight into my soul, so warm and filled with love. I smothered a sob as my heart cried out with a desperate longi
ng. I wished that I could be held in his strong arms and feel his kiss on my lips one more time.

  The hours dragged on, and too tired to stay awake any longer, I let my head fall back against the tree, not caring that I was leaving my neck exposed and vulnerable. Before the restless oblivion of sleep claimed me, my final coherent thought was gratitude for Alexander’s safety. Marie wanted to punish him by hurting me, but I knew that even if Alexander had come to America in search of me, his security would never allow the crown prince to go traipsing through the forest on a rescue mission. As long as Alexander was safe and happy, I could die with peace in my heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  We remained in our campsite over the following day. It was hours past sunset on the fifth night of my capture before I fell into a restless sleep. It felt as if I’d barely slept a wink when I was jolted awake by the hard slap to my face. My body jerked against the restraints, startled. It took my fuzzy brain a moment to register what was happening. I blinked, trying to focus through the darkness when I felt a hand cover my mouth.

  “Wake up, Cinderella,” Marie whispered. She was so close that I could feel her breath on my cheek. “It’s time. They’re coming.”

  As she spoke I caught the faint sound of movement in the distance less than one hundred yards away. I stiffened, feeling hope shoot through my chest. Someone was out there. Maybe they could save me.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Marie murmured. I heard the unmistakable sound of a knife sliding free from its sheath. “When they get here I’m going to kill you.” Her hand pressed hard against my mouth. “So be quiet, and you’ll live a little longer. Maybe even long enough to see Alexander one last time.” Trembling, I nodded. “But make one sound and I’ll gut you like a fish,” Marie warned, before finally removing her hand.

  My heart skipped a beat when I felt the cold, sharp edge of a knife against my throat, pressing hard enough against my skin to draw blood. I sucked in a gasp and bit my lip to keep from making any noise. At this point, I trusted Marie to stay true to her word. The beautiful blond noblewoman was out of her mind—and therefore incredibly dangerous.