Return of the Prince_Medieval Romance

by Elise de Sallier

  Eloise felt her cheeks flame and ducked her head. She wasn’t sure what to make of the handsome, fair-haired baron or the dramatic turn of events. Was it possible? Could she have a future with Destrian?

  “You should be safe enough here,” Lord Winterfold added after checking the window was secure. “I shall send a guard to watch the door and let Destrian know where to find you.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Eloise dropped a curtsey, a little shocked when the baron caught hold of her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. He eyed her sombrely for a moment, and she pulled her hand free and took a cautious step back.

  “You have nothing to fear from me,” he said, his lip curling in a rueful smile. “Unlike his brother, I would never encroach on Destrian’s territory. But I won’t deny I think he’s a lucky man to have found you, or rather, be found by you. Do tell, are there any other ladies of your ilk hidden away in your modest little village?”

  Eloise immediately thought of Ayleth. “Possibly,” she admitted. “But she’s a little shy of men, so you would have to be on your best and most charming behaviour.”

  Lord Winterfold’s brows rose. “Oh, Miss Sommerville, I can be very charming when it suits me.”

  With another bow, he departed, leaving Eloise to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle. She had never had the chance to flirt with a courtly gentleman before, and she had to admit it was fun. Although not nearly as exciting as having been reunited with Destrian. Joy bubbled up within her at the prospect of seeing him again and not having to be parted. Spinning in a circle, she laughed, as her skirts swished around her.

  “Please, Lord,” she prayed aloud. “Let Destrian find a way to placate his and Seraphina’s fathers so that we can be together. Oh, and please don’t let King Gorvenal die, certainly not because of me.”

  Her smile faded at the thought, and she sat down on the bed with a thump. What a night it had been. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Seraphina, though she suspected Destrian was right, and that the beautiful princess didn’t care for him, certainly not the way Eloise did. She hoped the aging Kind Gorvenal would be all right and regretted her involvement in the situation might have worsened his condition. But thank heavens she had arrived before the betrothal had been announced! Her only other regret for the evening was that she had not had the chance to dance with Destrian for longer. His kisses had more than made up for it though, and with her fingers pressed to her tingling lips, she fell back on the bed.

  A knock at the door a short while later saw her springing up right. She hadn’t expected Destrian would come find her for some time, but he must have managed to get away.

  “Coming!” she called, rushing to the door. Flinging it open, her bright smile was replaced with a gasp of horror. “You!” she cried, stepping backwards when the dark and dangerous-looking Rulf forced his way into the room. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been sent to guard you,” he said, grabbing hold of her arm with one hand while the other brandished a knife. “And I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight until you are safely delivered to your new husband. I have waited too long for this alliance to see it ruined by some worthless, slip of a girl. Destrian will soon get over his silly infatuation once he learns you are damaged goods, and believe me, you will be damaged when Festerly is done with you.”

  Chapter 12

  With Rulf’s hand wrapped around Eloise’s upper arm, and his knife pressed to her ribs, she had no choice but to go with him into the hallway. But that didn’t stop her from struggling. Fuelled by desperation, she darted a look to either side in the hope there might be someone to come to her aid. Seeing the shadowed corridor was empty, her shoulders slumped. Lord Winterfold had seemed so sincere, but for him to have sent Rulf to guard her must mean he was in on the conspiracy. If that was the case, he was an excellent actor. If he chose to report she had left of her own accord for some reason, Destrian might not even realise it was a fabrication.

  Dragging her heels, she looked longingly back to the room where he would be coming to find her.

  “Enough of that.” Rulf jerked her forward, snarling close to her ear. “If you do as you’re told, you will live to enjoy your honeymoon.” She whimpered, and he gave her arm a painful twist. “Maybe enjoy was the wrong word, but you strike me as a survivor. Who knows, if you please Festerly he might bring you with him on one of his visits to the palace in order to take advantage of those so-called connections of yours. You might even get to see Destrian again . . . once he’s safely wed.”

  Wishing he would shut up and stop tormenting her with his words, Eloise shot Rulf a vicious look. “My instincts were right. You are nothing but a brute and a bully.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” His smile was both smug and reptilian, sending a shiver down Eloise’s spine.

  “You act as if you are protecting Destrian’s interests, but you don’t care for him at all, just the political advantage you can gain from being close to him.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of the power behind the throne?” Rulf quirked a brow while dragging her down a side corridor. “Cedric is strong but naïve . . . a do-gooder. He won’t be in power for long. Destrian will have a lot to contend with recovering from his father’s loss, but disappointment hones a man . . . and makes him open to manipulation.”

  “From you?” Eloise huffed a breath. “Destrian knows what you did, how you lied to him about me. Any trust he had in you has been shattered.”

  Rulf jerked to a halt and shoved her up against the wall, his nose inches from her face.

  “He’ll come around in time. Once you’re safely wedded and bedded by another, he’ll lose interest and see that I’ve done him a favour. The princess is a beautiful woman and comes with her very own kingdom, a perfect match for Varianda . . . and Destrian.”

  Eloise opened her mouth to argue then snapped it shut. Trying to convince a mad man he was delusional was a waste of time and angering him had earned her nothing but a bruised back. She would have to play along, biding her time until she could escape before they rendezvoused with Mr Festerly. She should have kept the door locked and waited to hear Destrian’s voice. But she had been too busy revelling in the fantastical notion that she, Eloise Sommerville, a downtrodden girl who had been forced to work as a maid for almost half her life, had captured the heart of a prince.

  A small part of her feared there was truth in Rulf’s words that if she was absent from the picture, things might return to the way they had been before, the way both Kings Cedric and Gorvenal would prefer. Rulf’s disloyalty might have devalued his opinion in Destrian’s eyes, but how would he stand up against two such powerful men, one his own father? The likelihood of Destrian being granted permission to marry her was slim. Eloise’s hope they could be together was nothing more than a dream, one that had been replaced by the nightmare of abduction.

  Another whimper escaped her throat, but it was drowned out by the sound of the orchestra as they entered an anteroom that led off from the ballroom. Although not crowded, there were people milling around, and Eloise’s muscles tensed as she looked for a way of escape.

  “Now, now, Miss Sommerville.” Rulf pressed the knife harder, so it pinched at her skin. “We are going to collect your cloak, and you’re going to come with me willingly. The guards will have no reason to suspect anything is amiss, no reason to sound an alarm, or I shall slip this blade between your ribs. Whether you come out of this dead or alive makes no difference to me, as long as you’re not around to distract the prince.”

  “My collapse would cause a scene,” Eloise said, tempted to risk a run for it while there were people around who might help her.

  “I’ll say you’ve fainted, and I am removing you from the throng.” The knife pressed a little deeper, and she gasped, twisting to the side to escape the burning sting.

  “Eloise? Is that you?”

  For a fleeting moment, Eloise welcomed the sound of Gloria’s voice, but the hope her stepmother might do som
ething to help her for once was short-lived.

  “Lord Rulf. What are you doing with my stepdaughter?” Gloria asked once she was close enough not to be overheard. “I have not been paid the money you promised me. You’re not planning on reneging on our deal, are you?”

  “I should.” Rulf snarled the words, and Gloria’s haughty expression wavered. “You were under strict instructions to keep her sequestered until Festerly arrived to collect her in the morning. What the hell were you thinking letting her come to the ball?”

  “I didn’t let her do anything.” Gloria glared at Eloise, fury contorting her features. “She freed herself from a locked basement, and believe me, she will be made to regret her disobedience.”

  “Not by you,” Rulf said, tugging Eloise with him. “I am taking her to Festerly, now. I don’t imagine it will be too difficult to find a priest willing to perform a wedding ceremony in the middle of the night, not if he is suitably rewarded. I’m not letting her out of my sight until the deed is done.”

  “But what about my money?” Gloria’s voice rose as she scurried to keep pace. “I’ll not be robbed! Do you hear me?”

  “Me and half the damned palace!” Rulf took a step towards Gloria. “Keep your voice down, woman, and your mouth shut about what you’ve seen, and you might still receive your payment. Now walk with us out to the courtyard to farewell your stepdaughter and stop drawing attention.”

  Flanked between the two, Eloise’s hopes of getting away before they left the castle faded. In short order her cloak was retrieved, and she was bundled into the waiting carriage. Ben would wonder what had happened to her, but there was no way to get word to him . . . or any help to be had as the young man was no match for the likes of her captor. She tried to signal some of the guard members that there was something wrong, but they seemed oblivious and obeyed Rulf without question. Her last view of the palace forecourt showed her stepmother, fuming quietly but powerless to intervene, not that she would have acted in Eloise’s favour even if she could.

  Fighting back tears, Eloise leaned her head against the padded leather seat. How many levels of hell must she be forced to endure? Being reunited with Destrian and then being torn apart like this was agony. Even if they weren’t destined to be together, she was certain he would have done whatever it took to see her delivered from Gloria and Rulf’s plan. He’d said he loved her, and she believed him, the memory of his kisses still lingering on her lips. She should have told him she felt the same. The revelation might be one she had only just arrived at, but she didn’t doubt it in the least. Loving Destrian was as easy as breathing. She suspected she had loved him from the day they met, even before she had come to know him as a caring, honourable man, one who had treated her with respect despite the disparity in their stations. Acknowledging her feelings, even to herself, hadn’t seemed wise when nothing could come of them, but it was too late to deny them now.

  “Oh, Destrian,” she mouthed his name while staring out the carriage window, wondering if she would ever see him again. The farther away from the palace they drove, the less likely it seemed she would manage an escape. Returning to the castle, undetected while on foot, would be nigh on impossible. A sob rose in her throat, but she forced it down.

  To Eloise’s relief, Rulf remained quiet on the drive down the mountain, as she wasn’t sure how many more of his taunts she could stand. Deceit didn’t come naturally, but with time running out, she decided to try and use his complacency to her advantage. When they drove straight through the village closest to the palace before turning down the road that led to Hallewell, a destination she had hoped for but hadn’t been certain of, she plucked up the courage to ask, “Can we stop by the seamstress’s residence? She is expecting me to return this gown, as it’s only borrowed.”

  “What do you take me for?” Rulf scoffed. “I’ll not be giving you an opportunity to escape, so you can put that thought from your mind.”

  “I am resigned to my fate,” Eloise lied, Rulf’s shrug giving her hope he accepted her forlorn statement at face value. “What sort of bride comes to her marriage with only one gown to her name, an impractical one that does not belong to her? You have won, my lord.” She flattered him with the appellation her stepmother had used, unsure if he was entitled to it or not. “Please allow me the dignity of embarking on my future life with at least a few possessions to my name. It will save my new husband from having to purchase clothing for me.”

  Rulf laughed, a harsh sound. “Oh, I don’t imagine he’ll mind too much if you’ve nothing to wear.”

  Tears stung Eloise’s eyes at his leering look and the image his words inspired. “It is almost winter, my lord. I shall need my boots, my cloak. Please, be reasonable.”

  His expression turned calculating. “Why? What’s in it for me?”

  “My compliance,” she said, and he shrugged, this time with obvious indifference. “You want Destrian to forget me, to get over his . . . infatuation.” She stumbled over the word before continuing, “What if he were to see me on Mr Festerly’s arm, seemingly content with my new lot in life? Would that not help your cause?”

  Rulf studied her for a long moment while Eloise held his gaze . . . and her breath.

  “Very well, then.” His eyes narrowed further. “But if you double cross me, you will regret it. Is that understood?”

  Wondering what she could regret more than marriage to Mr Festerly, Eloise nodded.

  Ayleth opened the door promptly at Eloise’s knock, her eyes widening when she saw Rulf looming over friend’s shoulder.

  “I have come to return the gown, then Lord Rulf is escorting me to my wedding to Mr Festerly,” Eloise said, signalling Ayleth with her own wide-eyed look not to react.

  “Oh, I see. Very well, Miss Sommerville. If you come this way you can change in the dressing room.”

  “Not so fast.” Rulf pulled Eloise behind him and went first, checking that the cubicle was devoid of windows or doors through which she could escape. “I’ll be waiting right outside, so don’t go getting any ideas.”

  Eloise kept her head down, grateful he was going to allow her privacy to undress . . . and for the chance to speak with Ayleth.

  “Did you not get to see the prince?”

  “No, I did.” Eloise smiled at the memory. “We danced together, and we kissed, and he told me he loved me.”

  “In the middle of the ballroom?”

  Colour bloomed in Eloise’s cheeks. “No, of course not. He took me aside to a room where we could be alone. He was upset at first, as he thought I had deceived him. He sent a letter with Rulf, that horrid man out there, but I never received it. The scoundrel lied and told Destrian I didn’t want his help any more . . . just his gold.”

  “Gold? What gold?”

  “The gold Rulf is paying Mr Festerly to marry me so that Destrian won’t want me any more. Although I don’t think Destrian can have me, as neither his nor Princess Seraphina’s father will allow it. Mind you, there is a slim chance now that the princess doesn’t want Destrian, not after she caught us kissing.”

  “Princess Seraphina caught you and Prince Destrian kissing?” Ayleth’s voice ended on a squeak, and Eloise hushed her to silence.

  “What’s going on in there?” Rulf demanded.

  Eloise assured him she wouldn’t be long, skimming out of her beautiful gown.

  Ayleth put it carefully aside, then leaned close to her ear. “Whatever happens, you mustn’t end up with this Festerly character. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I need to find out where Rulf is taking me, so Destrian knows where to look once he realises I have been abducted,” Eloise whispered, her fingers crossing that he wouldn’t believe Lord Winterfold’s lies. “I don’t think it can be far, as Mr Festerly was coming for me in the morning.”

  “I’ve an idea.” Ayleth smiled her reassurance to Eloise before insisting she dress in a far nicer gown than the ragged affair she had arrived in earlier in the night. “Trust me,” she whispered, her featu
res forming a professional mask before she opened the curtain and faced the waiting Rulf.

  “Miss Sommerville has informed me her future husband expects to use her family connections to further his ambitions, in which case she will need an appropriate wardrobe. Since I am keen to increase my business dealings with those who frequent the palace, I would like to offer my services, starting by providing this gown for her to wear to her wedding.”

  Rulf scowl. “I don’t give a damn what she wears.”

  “We have already agreed my cooperation could be beneficial, could it not?” Eloise said, trying to keep the desperation from her tone. “I am just trying to make the best of my new situation. You said yourself that if I pleased my new husband, he might treat me more kindly.”

  Rulf snorted. “I wouldn’t hold your breath, but the idea has some merit, I suppose. Very well, then.” He turned to Ayleth. “You can put together a wardrobe for the future Madam Festerly, but nothing too extravagant.”

  “Certainly.” Ayleth curtsied, shooting Eloise a sly wink. “Where shall I have the garments and such delivered?”

  “I’ll let you know after the happy couple are established in their new abode,” Rulf said, and Eloise did her best not to let her shoulders sag. Of course, the wily soldier wouldn’t give away their destination so easily. “In the meantime, you can accompany us to the inn down the road and act as witness at the marriage of your friend—don’t think for a moment that I’m unaware the two of you are plotting something. Having you accompany Miss Sommerville should remove any temptation on her part to misbehave, that’s if she has a care for your wellbeing, Madam Norton. I am sure the local priest will be more comfortable officiating at the nuptials if the bride in question has a young lady at her side and makes it clear how pleased she is by her choice of husband, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Eloise looked to Ayleth, sorrow and regret in her eyes. She shouldn’t have come here. Risking her friend was unforgivable.

  “Of course, I want to attend Miss Sommerville’s nuptials,” Ayleth said, her voice unwavering. “Just give me a moment to check on my daughter before our departure. I am assuming I shall not be away for long?”