When Passion Rules

by Johanna Lindsey

  She didn’t try to fight back the memories of those nights with Christoph this time. She had managed to banish them from her thoughts because, just as she’d told him, she’d never engage in that kind of intimacy with him again. So it would have been pure folly to remember something that wonderful. But now, for some reason, she let herself indulge in a little foolishness.

  Her father had mentioned giving her a tour of the palace this morning. When the knock came at the door, she was ready for it and waved back the servant who moved to answer it. Bright and early, the two young women had shown up with platters of food and smiles, ready to wait on her hand and foot. She was going to have to get used to that because they seemed to think they had to stay constantly at her side. She’d tried to shoo them away, but then they’d looked as if she were punishing them!

  A guard was standing outside the door, not her father. The two guards who had escorted her last night were standing there at attention, too, plus four new ones! She’d had no idea they would be guarding her door all night. But the new man merely handed her a message. She opened it and stared at a page full of Lubinian text, then asked the guard what it was about.

  Christoph came around the corner just then and barked an order at the guard, who quickly marched off. Christoph must just have come in from outside because he was still wearing his long overcoat and fur cap.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked her.

  “Yes, I was given this without explanation.” She handed the note to him.

  “It’s from the king. He regrets he can’t join you this morning and suggests tomorrow morning instead. I was made aware of this and was coming to inform you. But the guard wouldn’t have known anything about it. You really shouldn’t talk to my men, your father wouldn’t like it.”

  The last was said in such a scolding tone, she demanded, “Why not?”

  “Because you’re the princess, and soldiers are beneath your notice.” But then he sighed. “I think the palace will need to make adjustments, now that a princess is among us.”

  It sounded more as if he would need to make adjustments, but she couldn’t resist reminding him, “You’re a soldier. Are you now beneath my notice, too?”

  His expression turned slightly annoyed at that, but all he said was “Fetch your coat, you’re going outdoors.”

  One of the maids had heard him and was already rushing forward with the coat. Another came running with Alana’s cap. In mere seconds, they had her garbed to venture outside, and Christoph was already walking her down the hallway. She gave him a moment to tell her where he was taking her, but soon realized he wasn’t going to! Did he really think he could continue treating her like his prisoner?

  “Where—?” she began, but didn’t bother to finish. His stride was too quick, his manner too stiff, and she didn’t feel like shouting to be heard.

  Outside the main palace entrance, she recognized his horse being held there for him. He mounted and reached for her hand to help her up.

  She crossed her arms over her chest instead, a mulish twist to her lips. “You will say where we are going or I’m not going. You can’t use this high-handed manner with me anymore. I outrank you!”

  He burst out laughing, and swiftly, before she could step back out of the way, he reached down to catch her under her arms, lifted her, and placed her sideways in front of him.

  “Rank has nothing to do with it. I’m your official protector, which means, Princess, you must do as I say.”

  He didn’t sound as if he was gloating, but she didn’t doubt he was. “And if I object?”

  “You can always complain to the king.”

  “Why don’t I complain to you instead? I have a feeling I’ll be doing a lot of that.”

  He bent forward, close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her face. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her right there in the ward! But he said no more and she realized it was because he’d noticed Henry hurrying across the ward to them. She tried to get back off the horse, but Christoph held her tight.

  Stopping beside the horse, Henry looked up at Christoph and beseeched, “A word wi’ ’er, m’lord?”

  “You’re welcome in the palace now,” Christoph told the boy. “You can visit her anytime. If what you have to say won’t wait, then speak.”

  Henry looked utterly frustrated for a moment, but then he surprised them both by stepping on Christoph’s boot in the stirrup and hoisting himself up farther using Alana’s skirt. He leaned to the side away from Christoph and whispered to her, “Beware the queen,” then jumped back down and hurried away.

  Alana frowned as she watched Henry go. Christoph didn’t move and she realized he was merely waiting for her to explain. “Tell me,” he said.

  “It made no sense, so I’d rather not repeat it.”

  “Alana, I will guard your life with my own,” he said sternly. “But to do that, you can keep no more secrets from me. Repeat what he told you.”

  She repeated the message, then added, “Poppie must be on the wrong trail—or is there something about Nikola that I’m not aware of?”

  “Queen Nikola is above reproach. She adores Frederick and she wasn’t old enough to be involved in that old conspiracy.”

  She heard the anger in his tone and even agreed, “I would have said the same thing, but—”

  “There is more than one queen who resides in this country, Alana.”

  She almost laughed. He meant that sweet old lady she’d met last night. That was even more absurd, yet she would rather believe that than that her father’s loving wife might not be as loving as he thought.

  Christoph started moving them slowly toward the gate. Lost in her thoughts over that garbled message—maybe she’d missed some of it—she almost didn’t notice the guards in the ward. One by one, as soon as they saw her, they were dropping to one knee and placing a fist to their chests as they bowed toward her. It nearly brought tears to her eyes.

  “It didn’t take long for them to love you,” Christoph said in a soft tone.

  Then Alana heard him add, “Just like me.” But he said it so softly she couldn’t be sure.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  IT TOOK A WHILE for Alana’s tears to dry. She waited until they did, unwilling to let Christoph know she’d cried. Then she turned her head to glance up at him. His eyes had already been on her, she realized, when she met his gaze immediately. Such a pensive look, as if he were trying to read her thoughts.

  She wasn’t sure where he was taking her now, but obviously it was going to require a sleigh again, because he was riding to the sleigh house. A sleigh was again already waiting outside the building for him, the same driver as before already on his perch.

  Christoph stopped right next to the sleigh, close enough to lift her carefully down into it before he dismounted to join her. “Don’t you think it’s about time you told me where you’re taking me?” she asked.

  “Your father suggested a fun outing for you. I thought you might like to visit the wolf pups again. But if you can think of something you’d rather do . . .”

  She’d rather just ride around cuddled in his arms, but of course she couldn’t say that. “Seeing the puppies again would be nice, actually.”

  He nodded and directed the driver where to go before he wrapped her in blankets again.

  “Was that really my father’s idea, or was it yours?”

  “His. He’s concerned you didn’t take too well something he told you last night.”

  That was an understatement. Recalling her shock over the marriage he favored for her, she asked, “Did he tell you what he suggested?”

  “Of course—and he assured me I won’t have to guard you much longer.”

  She sucked in her breath. “He mentioned nothing about soon!”

  Christoph suddenly put his hand to her belly. “His reason for making haste is valid.” His eyes dropped to her midsection as well so she couldn’t mistake his meaning.

  She blushed furiously, mortified at t
he realization that her father knew she’d been intimate with Christoph. But there was no evidence that there had been a consequence. Why couldn’t they wait to be sure first? And then it really sank in—a baby? Good Lord, she’d never once thought of it before today, and that thought wasn’t the least bit embarrassing, was actually a wonderful thought. A baby. Theirs . . .

  A moment of wonder passed between them, but it was brief. She looked away before Christoph could see how painful she found the thought that her time with him would soon end. Her father might appreciate his work, but he still wouldn’t let her marry Christoph, even if she was carrying his child. He was merely a glorified soldier, not good enough for a princess.

  “I suppose that’s why he’s angry with you?” she asked tonelessly.

  “He’s a father. He’s reacting the way any father would.”

  She had to blame something for this pain, it was starting to choke her. “But how did he even find out unless you told him. Why would you do that?!”

  “It doesn’t matter how he knows” was all Christoph said.

  She sighed and mumbled, “I don’t want to marry Karsten, you know.”

  He turned her face to his so he could look into her eyes. She sensed a sudden change in him. Whatever he saw, it made him smile before he said, “Good, then maybe I won’t have to kill him.”

  She sighed in exasperation. As if that would help anything, but of course he didn’t even mean it.

  “You didn’t tell him how you feel about it, did you?” he added.

  “Of course not, he’s so bloody happy about the idea, how could I?”

  “So his happiness is more important than your own?”

  “You don’t understand. I’ve just been reunited with him. I am so incredulous at how that went, how the love was just there, instantly, as if we’d never been separated. I don’t want to upset him!”

  “If you want to save Karsten’s life, you might rethink that.”

  “Oh, stop it. You aren’t going to kill him.” She glanced at him, and he actually looked as if he was savoring the thought. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t even think this was my father’s idea. I mean, he loves the idea, obviously, but I think it was Nikola who suggested the match.”

  “I’m not surprised. She wants an end to the hostilities more than anyone. There are even whispers that her fears have caused her many miscarriages.”

  Alana sighed again. “I wish I could talk to Poppie. There must have been more to Henry’s last message and I just didn’t hear it all.”

  “Perhaps you will today.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Tell me this outing isn’t a trap?”

  She had hoped for a denial, but didn’t get it. “At your father’s suggestion. But you aren’t to worry. I won’t harm him. You’ve had Frederick’s word on that.”

  “That’s all fine and good, but I don’t have Poppie’s word that he won’t harm you!”

  Christoph laughed. “You worry for me?”

  “Not one jot!” she insisted. “But how is it going to look if he kills you? I don’t think my father will be very benevolent if that happens.”

  He smiled. “It won’t happen while you’re with me, or did you sing his praises for becoming a new and better man a bit too much? Do you really think he would spill blood in front of you? Now might be a good time to admit that, if it’s so?”

  “Why? He can’t single-handedly stop this sleigh anyway, or were you going to stop it and invite him to join us? Yes, of course you are, all very civil—before you cart him off to prison. You knew Henry was waiting out in the ward for me, didn’t you? That’s why you rushed me out there!”

  “Very persistent, your little friend.”

  She glared at him. “And once again you didn’t tell me?” Then she guessed, “My father didn’t really cancel our meeting this morning, did he? You told him Henry had come with another message for me and this would be a golden opportunity!”

  She was suddenly so furious she felt like screaming.

  Christoph didn’t admit or deny it. He didn’t say another word, as if he saw nothing amiss in what he’d done. It was such a blatant example of his high-handed manner, making decisions for her, proceeding with them regardless of her feelings. But she managed to get her anger under control. His silence helped.

  So she was a bit surprised to hear his own thoughts were still with Henry. As soon as the sleigh began heading up into the hills, he said, “I am beginning to like that boy. Very aggressive in his worry over you. Very courageous to argue with my men. He reminds me of myself at that age.”

  “I doubt that,” she said scathingly. “You were probably out smashing something with clubs like all the other little barbarians, while he carves beautiful figures out of wood that amaze and delight people.”

  He chuckled over her assessment and bent down to take something out of his saddlebag to hand to her. “These are his work?”

  It was the two carvings Henry had made for her. She hadn’t even noticed they weren’t in her trunks that had been brought to her new room in the palace.

  “Why do you have them?”

  He shrugged. “I told Boris to put them on my mantel after we left the other day. I thought they might make you feel—at home in my quarters. I didn’t know at the time that you wouldn’t be going back there.”

  She was incredulous. That was such a thoughtful, nice thing for him to do, not barbaric at all. She wished he would stop showing her glimpses of that side of himself. It made it harder and harder to maintain her original assessment, that he was and would always be a coarse barbarian by nature. And she needed to maintain that, to keep the hurt away from the constant reminder that he would never be hers!

  Then he surprised her even further by adding, “The pair, they remind me of us.”

  She quickly disagreed. “No, the male figure, he’s just a soldier, an English one, actually. Henry had never even heard of Lubinia when he carved that for me.”

  “He thought you should be paired with a soldier instead of the English lord you thought you would have?”

  “It was an—odd reason he had for picking a soldier for me, I . . . I don’t remember,” she lied.

  She wasn’t about to tell him that Henry had figured it would take a courageous man to marry her because her intelligence could be intimidating. Christoph would just scoff at that, or laugh, since he didn’t find her the least bit intimidating, neither before or after she’d donned the royal mantle.

  But he obviously didn’t believe that she couldn’t remember because he said, “Maybe I’ll ask him, since you don’t want to say.”

  She drew in her breath. “You didn’t detain him?”

  “Of course not. He can’t deliver the message to Rastibon if he’s sitting in a cell. But I know where to find him now.”

  She stiffened. “I’m going to discuss this with my father. To make sure Henry doesn’t end up in one of your cells!”

  “You really think I would do that, when I know of your fondness for the boy?”

  “You—” She stopped. That question just deflated her anger. “No, I honestly don’t think you would hurt a child. But you’re so single-minded when you’re after answers.”

  “My job—”

  “I know. Your job will always make it so. I even realize your treatment of me was just part of your job. I know it could have been much worse, considering what you thought, what you were so sure of.”

  He laughed. “You’re making concessions for me?”

  “No, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t frightened, and infuriated, and frustrated beyond reason—at the time.”

  “And you haven’t gotten your retribution yet. Are you just waiting for an opportune time?”

  Did he actually think that, or was he just teasing her? The latter, no doubt, because he wouldn’t worry over something like that, not when he and her father had both admitted he had only been doing his job, what he had leave to do.

  All she said was “I happen to recall the other day just
before you became absolutely certain that Helga was my mother, your saying that if I were the princess, your family would be disgraced and you would even banish yourself forever from Lubinia because of it. Of course when you said it, you in no way believed that could ever happen. And now that it has—”

  “Now that it has, instead of incurring the king’s wrath for failing to unravel your mystery sooner, I am given his daughter to guard with my life.”

  She sat forward so she could turn to look back at him. Yes, it was there in his expression, pride in a job well done.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  ALANA GASPED. SHE COULDN’T believe what had just happened. Christoph had just taken the two little carvings from her hands and bent down to return them to his saddlebag, saying, “I will hold them until we are back at the palace.”

  She’d barely heard him. No sooner had he leaned toward the floor to put them away than she saw a man run from behind a tree and leap for the back of the sleigh. It was done so smoothly, the sleigh didn’t dip at all so Christoph had no warning—until he leaned back in his seat and the knife was suddenly at his throat.

  “Don’t kill him!” Alana screamed.

  “Hush, princess, I wasn’t going to,” Leonard said.

  “In that case,” Christoph began, and with a single hand he yanked Poppie into the sleigh in front of them.

  “I should put on more weight,” Leonard said in disgust at how easily he’d just been outmaneuvered by sheer strength.

  He said it low enough that Alana guessed they weren’t supposed to hear it, but she did. Christoph did, too, which accounted for the slight smile on his lips. Nonetheless, he still bent down to pick up his rifle from the floor and put it on his lap. But he made no attempt to take the knife from Poppie, he just sat there now with a raised brow as Poppie straightened himself into a sitting position on the floor. Alana swiftly dropped to her knees on the floor to put her arms around his neck.

  “I’ve missed you so much! Nothing happened as we thought it would, though it’s all right now.”

  “You now have your father’s protection?”