Why did that conversation come back to her now? Why, as she watched Hilda talking to the head groom, why, as she saw men suddenly run, as she saw Hilda turn and look up at her window...?
As she saw fear.
And suddenly she was running too, taking the stairs two at a time, flying down and through the back entrance, heading for Hilda. Who was almost sobbing with fear.
‘What...?’
Hilda stopped, couldn’t get words out. It was up to the head groom.
‘The lad—’ he too seemed visibly upset ‘—he was down early, hanging round, helping the morning feeds. He’s often here. He loves this place.’
‘I know that.’
‘And he’s good with the horses,’ the man said. ‘He was going from stall to stall, feeding them the bits of carrot I always leave on hand because I know he likes feeding them. Usually I’d keep an eye on him but today... There are so many horses to get ready. I guess...’ He was struggling, Ellie saw, trying to get his thoughts together. ‘I called everyone into the tack room for a few minutes to collect the gear. It was last-minute polish, all hands required to give everything a last buff. And I had to ensure the right tack went on the right horses.’
He was wavering, almost wild-eyed, frantic. ‘Just tell me,’ Ellie managed.
‘So...so we came out and the lad was gone,’ he said, catching himself. ‘And I thought no more of it until Hilda came running. And then we checked.’ And he stopped, as if he couldn’t bear to go on.
‘And His Majesty’s horse is missing,’ Hilda whispered. ‘The great black stallion Prince Marc is to ride in the ceremonial procession today. It’s missing and so is Felix. Oh, ma’am...’
And it was too much for her. Hilda put her hand on her heart and crumpled where she stood.
* * *
For a few moments Ellie had to concentrate on Hilda.
Her son was missing. He’d presumably taken Marc’s stallion. Her whole body was suffused with panic but Hilda had crumpled and she needed to check it was a simple faint and not a heart attack.
But her pulse was steady. She regained consciousness almost as she hit the ground. She sat up and sobbed and apologised and went into frantic mode again and Ellie released her wrist and called one of the female grooms.
‘Can you take Madame Bouchier to her room, please. No, Hilda, there’s nothing you can do here. You’ve had a shock and you need to recover. Have you had breakfast? No? Stay with her,’ she told the girl. ‘That’s an order. Hilda, you lost consciousness and we need to get you checked properly.’
‘Felix...’ she moaned.
‘Is my responsibility.’
And then Josef came hurrying around the corner of the stable yard. Of course. The man was omnipresent in this place; he would have heard of this almost before it happened. He was demanding answers of the security guards, incredulous they didn’t have answers. Then moving on.
‘Claud,’ he snapped. ‘Take two of the lads. Ride the horses not in use this morning. Let me know the moment he’s found.’
Three men. Ellie turned and gazed up at the great mountain that backed the castle. Three was all they could spare? But the coronation. The parade. Of course. This was a greater imperative than her son.
She closed her eyes for a millisecond, trying frantically to settle. And when she opened them Marc was there.
He must have been dressing, she thought, though her thoughts were close to hysterics. He was wearing skin-tight breeches. A voluminous white shirt, high-collared but not yet fastened. A crimson and gilt sash. High boots, moulded to his calves, glistening from hours of polish.
‘We have things under control, Your Highness,’ Josef said, stepping in to stand between Marc and Ellie. As if he knew what a threat such a connection caused.
But the threat was ignored. Marc took the man’s shoulders and lifted him aside. His hands caught her waist and he held her, hard and strong.
‘What’s under control? What’s happening?’ He glanced around the gathered stable hands, and he got it. ‘Where’s Felix?’
So Josef had been told, but not Marc.
When Felix was Marc’s son...
‘We think he’s taken your horse,’ Ellie managed. ‘But, Marc, the coronation...’
‘Why would he take my horse?’
His voice was commanding. It was the voice of a king, she thought dazedly, but it was also the voice of a surgeon, a doctor facing drama, a surgeon who needed facts now. It brought her up short. This was how she had to respond.
Triage.
Tell the surgeon the facts.
‘He hates riding the mare,’ she managed. ‘Everything about his feet, everything that’s restricted him, he’s fought every way he knows how. He knew the mare was chosen because of his leg. And...’
‘And?’ Marc’s gaze was fixed on hers, urgent and compelling. ‘And, Ellie?’
She’d only had moments to think what Felix would be doing but the knowledge had suddenly slammed home. ‘You told him, at the start, you said you couldn’t be crowned unless he was here. And I told him as soon as the coronation is over we’ll go home.’ She was struggling to keep her voice level. ‘He’ll have figured it out his own way. He loves it here.’ And how much did it hurt to say it, but there was no way of saying it gently. ‘Marc, he loves you.’
She watched his face change. She watched his shoulders sag—and then straighten. Turning to imperatives. ‘So he’s taken my horse?’ He turned to the head groom. ‘Is he saddled?’
‘No, sir,’ the man stammered. ‘Just the bridle.’
‘Reins?’
‘I’ll check.’
Ellie almost whimpered. For Felix to balance bareback, with only one leg available to grip... And he could barely ride.
Someone must have heard Felix ride away, Ellie thought numbly, but on this frantic morning hoof beats in the stable yard could well go unmarked. Felix had been lucky.
Or unlucky. The stallion was huge. How had Felix ever managed him?
He was smart. He was brave.
Just like his father.
‘He’ll have gone up the mountain,’ Marc snapped. ‘When I rode with him last week I showed him how the gates could be unlocked from the inside. I want every person who can mount a horse up that mountain now. Ring Commander Thierry. He has more mounted men readying for the parade. I want them here too. And saddle Theo for me.’
‘Sir!’ Josef’s was a cry of bewilderment. ‘The royal reception starts in thirty minutes. The parade starts in little over an hour. You can’t just walk away.’
‘I’m not walking away,’ Marc said grimly. ‘I’m asking them to wait.’
‘But for how long?’
‘For as long as it takes,’ Marc snapped. ‘I abandoned my family once for my country. I won’t do it again. My country’s important but my wife and my son come first.’
* * *
She’d been a child when she’d last saddled a horse. She did it now, instinctively, and so fast she was mounted as Marc prepared to lead the first group up the mountain.
His frown intensified as he saw her. ‘You don’t ride.’
‘I chose not to ride. I’m riding now.’
‘You’ll be needed here. If...when he’s found.’
‘I’m coming. If anyone else finds him there are radios to let me know.’
He wasted no more time on arguing, just nodded and turned his attention to his horse.
She fell into the tail of the party. The mare she’d saddled was quiet, docile, one of the few not primped for today’s ceremony. She seemed to sense Ellie’s mood.
She also looked to Marc’s horse as if it was the natural leader, and Ellie thought, You and me both.
The police commissioner had joined the search on his own mount. His face was as grim as
Ellie felt. He fell in beside her and practically glowered. This was her fault?
‘You realise we have thousands of people already lining the route. Every detail has been planned for months. For His Highness to disappear...’
‘Marc hasn’t disappeared,’ she retorted. ‘He’s looking for his son.’
‘Yes, but...’
No! She wouldn’t listen to him. She wouldn’t think about the beautiful uniforms of the searchers, uniforms worn for ceremonial occasions, not for bashing their way up narrow forest trails.
She wouldn’t think of Marc, urgent, dark, commanding, seemingly almost one with the horse under him, throwing orders like the commander he was.
And she wouldn’t think of Felix.
But that was too big an ask. All she could think of was Felix, small, wiry, braced leg, heading into the wilderness bareback on a stallion he’d never ridden before.
This wasn’t a wilderness, she reminded herself, casting for comfort. It was part of the same medieval precinct that encompassed castle and village.
But no one would be up here today. Every soul would be lining the streets or glued to the television to watch the pageantry.
Except the searchers.
How many troops had Marc called in? It must be only half an hour since Felix’s absence had been noticed but there were already calls from all over the hillside.
If you lose a child in the forest, do it on a day when half the country seems prepared to mount a horse, Ellie thought, and rode grimly on.
The group divided and divided again as the searchers fanned out, but she stayed behind Marc. Two bodyguards stuck close. Plus the police commissioner. Ellie wanted to talk to Marc but the grim-faced men by his side had her staying back. And what would she say to him anyway?
A man riding beside her gave a surreptitious glance at his watch and winced.
‘What?’
‘It’s half an hour until the procession, ma’am,’ he told her apologetically. ‘My wife’s there, with the kiddies. I’m wondering if they’ve been told.’
She winced. A whole nation’s celebration...
How had she let this happen?
She urged her mare forward and the men around Marc reluctantly gave way to her. The track here was wide enough for two horses. This was the logical way he’d have come, Ellie thought, the widest track leading straight up. But there were cliffs at the side. She couldn’t bear to think...
‘If he’s slipped we’d see the stallion,’ Marc said grimly, hardly acknowledging her presence. ‘My horse looks intimidating but he’s gentle enough. He knows this mountain and he knows his way home. Dammit, where is he?’ The last words were an explosion, a fury so fierce it made the horse he was riding start back. He swore and settled him and Ellie saw the rigid control descend again.
‘Marc...’
He cast her a look she’d never seen before. Anguish? Fear? Anger? ‘What?’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It needed only that,’ he said savagely. ‘Don’t you dare be sorry. You think this isn’t down to me?’
‘If I’d agreed to stay...’
‘Why would you agree to stay?’ He shook his head. ‘Ten years ago I made the wrong choice. I was conceited enough to think I’d make a difference.’
‘You did make a difference,’ she said, struggling to keep her emotion in check. ‘I’ve heard enough of your work during the war. How many people you saved. And afterwards—the health system’s flawed, but how much more so would it be if you and your father hadn’t fought for it?’
‘I can’t even keep my son safe.’
‘That’s my job.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Marc, stop.’ It nearly killed her to say it but it had to be said. ‘You have searchers all over the mountain. I know... I know the procession will be smaller without them and I’m not generous enough to send them away, but you, Marc...your country’s waiting.’
‘You think I can be crowned without my son?’ And he cast her another of those looks, with such depth, such despair it almost killed her. ‘Without you?’
‘Josef would say...’
‘Damn what Josef would say,’ he muttered. ‘Damn what the world will say. A man can be driven only so far. Ten years ago I walked away from you because of imperatives. Those imperatives have only become more urgent, but today, for this day, the imperative of my son, and of you, Ellie, take precedence over all. We’ll find him, Ellie,’ he said grimly. ‘We must. And until then... Until you have your son again, the country can wait.’
* * *
And then they found the horse.
They heard a whicker ahead and Marc was off his horse in an instant, holding up his hand for silence. If Felix was ahead, struggling to stay on his mount, the last thing they wanted was to startle him.
They listened and the whicker came again. Close.
Ellie was off her horse too. She didn’t think consciously of dismounting. She only knew she had.
‘Stay,’ Marc told the group around them. ‘Silent.’ He reached for her hand, imperious, in command. She hardly noticed. She slipped her hand in his and held on tight, and he led her forward.
The track here was steep and treacherously rocky, the climb to the peak rising in earnest. The ground fell sharply on the left, the cliff face too close to the path for comfort.
There were trees, stunted by snowfall, clustered to the right. The bends were sharp and sudden.
‘Watch your feet,’ Marc told her, but his hand held her, strong and sure, and she knew she couldn’t fall. Not while Marc held her.
Oh, but Felix! To try and ride up here...
They edged forward, up and round the bend. And there was Mer Noire, Marc’s magnificent stallion. He had his head bent, grazing on a patch of alpine daisies. As he sensed their presence he lifted his magnificent head and whickered again.
He was bareback. No rider.
She had sense enough not to call out, but oh, she almost did. Felix! Dear heaven, if he’d been thrown near the drop from the cliffs...
Marc released her hand. He edged forward, speaking softly to the great horse. Mer Noire let him approach, rearing his head at the last moment and trying to back away, but Marc had him by the bridle and held fast.
‘So where’s your rider, big boy?’ he murmured but he was looking upward. ‘Not so far, eh? He’ll have been trying to make it to the top.’
‘He’ll have come off.’ She was trying not to sob.
‘I imagine so,’ Marc said but he said it so matter-of-factly that she found herself illogically reassured. As if coming off was no big deal. ‘These bends are tight. Mer Noire doesn’t know the meaning of slow or caution and, without a saddle, any stumble could have seen Felix fall. But Mer Noire knows where home is. He wouldn’t have kept going up after Felix came off. He’ll have been coming down. He’ll have stopped because he couldn’t resist a snack.’
‘But the cliff...’
‘The steep drop’s behind us. It’s only a ten-minute climb to reach the top from here. We’ll leave the horses and walk. Come on with me.’
He gave a ‘Hoy!’ and the rest of the group edged into the clearing. ‘We’re going up,’ Marc told them and received a groan from the police commissioner.
‘Sir, the time...’
And Marc told him where he could put his clockwatching. ‘Stay here,’ he told him. ‘Ellie and I will go on alone.’
‘But why?’ The man was almost sobbing.
‘Because he may be on the track, hurt, in which case we’ll call you. But it’s likely that he’s come up here for a purpose and that’s to stop my coronation. He knows what pain is and it won’t stop him.’
‘You think he could be hiding?’ Ellie asked, and he put his arm around her and gave her a swift, hard hug.
‘That’s what I’
d have done at his age,’ he said dryly. ‘And I’m starting to think my son is very like his father.’
So they climbed steadily, hand in hand, towards the peak. It was an extraordinary climb, an extraordinary view out over this beautiful country, but Ellie was in no mood for sightseeing. As they neared the peak she was close to collapse.
‘You must be wrong. He must have come off near the cliffs. Oh, Marc...’
But he was looking intently at a branch broken beside the path ahead, at scuff marks and hoof prints in the dust.
‘Something’s happened here. It has to be a fall, which means he can’t be far. He must be hiding.’ He tugged his hand free from hers, cupping his hands and started to call.
‘Felix, you’ve done it.’ His deep voice echoed out over the mountain, seemingly all the way to the town below. ‘You’ve done what you set out to do. You need to come out now and face us.’
No answer. Marc nodded, as if he expected no less, and started walking further up the track. A hundred yards on he tried again.
No result.
But fifty yards on, third try...
There was a sound very like a sob from the undergrowth. ‘I... I can’t.’ A child’s voice.
‘Oh, Felix!’ Ellie had almost given up on breathing she was so afraid, and for a moment she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. ‘Felix!’
Marc was already on his knees, bashing his way through the bushes. ‘Where are you?’ His voice was demanding. ‘Felix?’
‘I can’t come out.’ Felix’s voice was a sob from behind dense undergrowth. ‘The coronation hasn’t even started yet. I wanted to get to the top and wait but the path was too skinny and the tree hit me in the face. And I fell. And I tried to crawl higher but I can’t. And I think I’ve broken my other leg.’
* * *
What should you do when a child’s been so wilfully disobedient that he’s disrupted an entire nation’s plans for a coronation?
You hug him, that’s what.
Only Ellie couldn’t get near because Marc was before her, gathering him into his arms—carefully, though, so as not to disturb either leg—and holding him tight. Putting his face in Felix’s hair. Saying things that Ellie couldn’t hear as she fought to get through the undergrowth to join them. Things that silenced Felix’s sobs and had him crumpling against his papa.
Reunited with Her Surgeon Prince Page 15