Fateful 2-Fractured

by Cheri Schmidt

  She was working on the salad when Richard returned with a goblet filled with water.

  “Thanks. This is all very nice.”

  “You’re welcome.” He was in the process of wringing a napkin in his tense grip. A napkin that she figured was probably meant for her. “I’ve been told that I need to apologize for my ... er ... abruptness earlier.”

  “It’s all right. I know you couldn’t help it,” she said, unable to resist the tease.

  He blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You must be called the Black Prince for a reason.”

  “They never called me that until long after my death. But I think it was because of my black armor, nothing to do with my character.”

  Sure, she thought.

  He then noticed what he was doing to the napkin, ironed it with his fingers, and then handed it to her.

  She took the wrinkled linen. “Thanks.”

  “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  Danielle dragged the container of strawberries to her lap. “Nope. But thanks again.”

  “Just call if you need anything.” He swept into a bow and then left.

  Perhaps they should have called him the Indecisive Prince, because it seemed he didn’t know if he wanted to be a grouchy brute, or a chivalric gentleman.

  * * * * *

  When she emerged from her bedroom she found the three of them lounging on the sofa watching football.

  “This American football is prissy compared to our British sport,” Richard commented dryly.

  Before the others could reply, they noticed her, and all of them scrambled to their feet. She almost laughed because she didn’t expect that kind of respect from them, but suspected it was one of those things engrained so deep in their mannerisms they couldn’t break the habit.

  Then she noticed Richard’s muddy, booted feet as he stood on the new cream-colored rug. “Hey, you’re making a mess!”

  The prince frowned at her, then dropped his gaze to his big feet. After heaving a big sigh, he removed the offending footwear and tossed them to the entryway, which made a mess of dried dirt clods as they bounced. “Better?” he asked.

  “Um,” she managed, then noticed his socked feet, and smirked at the big toe sticking out of the hole in his left sock. He noted her gaze, tore off the socks, and chucked them toward his boots with a curse.

  This earned him a round of chuckles from Merrick and Cedric, whom he punched soundly in the arms for it.

  Danielle scooped her purse from the table and slung it over her shoulder.

  “Whoa!” Richard bellowed as he lunged for her. “You’re not going anywhere!”

  “I just want to go see my parents and my brother.”

  “You can’t leave this house until Ethan is here.”

  “But he doesn’t know when he’s going to be here.”

  “Did you honestly think you could leave on your own?” he bit out as he confiscated her purse, lifted her from the floor, hauled her to the sofa and set her down onto it.

  “No, I knew one or more of you would be following me. But—”

  “I heard about your freedoms before now! So you thought it would be like that again, where you could go anywhere you pleased and we’d just tail behind?”

  Yes … but apparently not…. She had thought she could be stealthy about it, and figured that no one was looking for her here, especially if she was believed to be there.

  “There will be no more of that!” he bellowed, leaning over her in a threatening stance. “I’m commanding this guard and you will not be leaving this house, not even to go to the garden!”

  Anger simmered through her veins. “And where do you get off taking my phone! I was just going to call Ethan!”

  “No. Phone. Calls. What if his phone has been tapped? Danielle, you’re supposed to be in London with Ethan! If you call, or you’re seen here they’ll know Gillian is not you! Do you not understand how much danger you’re in?”

  Oh, she knew. She didn’t want to admit to it sometimes, but she knew. Even though she’d desperately wanted to see her parents, she could also see his point. And this harsh lecture combined with his angry tone cracked her easily fractured emotions. Tears she couldn’t stop rolled down her cheeks. Embarrassed, she buried her face in her hands. Of course she hated how much she was crying lately, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She didn’t really feel pregnant yet, and she wasn’t showing yet. She just felt all messed up inside.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” Merrick shouted, addressing Richard.

  “You’ve upset her!” Cedric said. “Again!”

  Richard drew in a measured breath and slowly released it, then shoved Merrick aside and sat down next to her. He slung one arm over her shoulders and tugged her to his side. “I must apologize…. My main task is to keep you safe, and I tend to get a bit—overzealous.”

  “A bit?” Danielle asked on a wet sounding little sob.

  He laughed. “Okay, I suppose it is a tad more than a bit.”

  Danielle fanned herself trying to stop the waterworks. Cedric produced a handkerchief and dabbed at her wet face. “There now, would you like some tea?”

  She nodded like a child. She felt like one at the moment: in trouble for her actions, being disciplined for it. All of these men were older than her grandfather. While they didn’t look it, they could display the stubbornness that is occasionally witnessed in the elderly, especially the prince. Hopelessly set in their ways….

  Cedric strode to the kitchen to prepare the tea for her.

  “Don’t mind Richard, lass,” Merrick said. “Underneath that crusty, ogre exterior is a generous and heroic softy. Else he wouldn’t bother to say he was sorry.”

  She had seen hints of that here and there, and his comment did remind her of her history lessons about The Black Prince. It was said that he’d been extremely giving with his money before he died. She would guess that he had remained that way.

  “Silence, Merrick, before you ruin my reputation.” The prince turned the volume up on the television. “Let’s watch some football. Now tell me, who are these Dallas Cowboys?”

  Danielle realized he was trying to reduce the tension and soothe her bruised emotions. But it confused her, one minute he was shouting in her face, and the next he was almost jovial, almost flirting. “They’re the team from Texas,” she answered quietly.

  “Ah, I’ve heard of Texas. What does it mean when they do that little dance in front of the pole there?”

  “He just scored…. Richard, shouldn’t you know about this? I mean, I think you’re plenty old enough.”

  “I never ventured from Europe; spent most of my time in Spain, and I haven’t watched much television.” He turned his face back toward the television and scowled. “Why do they line up like that?”

  “I don’t really speak football.”

  “But you’re a Yank.”

  “And a girl. I’m not into it. Sorry.” She reached for the remote to change the channel.

  He resisted by extending his arm out to its fullest length. Dang, his arms were long. “I’ll change it for you. What would you like to watch?”

  “I don’t know.” Danielle stretched for it again.

  Again he resisted her efforts easily, and changed the station. “How about this?” he asked. It was some cooking show.

  “No,” she said, and wanted to reach for the control again, but knew she’d never get it away from this medieval knight without doing something major like throwing a tantrum, so she let it slide. “I’d like to watch a movie.”

  After flipping through half the channels he finally found one she deemed satisfactory and she smirked evilly. It was a chic-flick, a musical in fact. She relished in the thought that she was going to make these three guys suffer through it with her. Well, she wouldn’t be suffering; she liked this kind of stuff.

  By the time it was over the men were all snoring loudly. Hmmm, she thought, vampires really do sleep.

  Richard popped
one eye open when she slid from the sofa. “Hmm?”

  Her eyes rounded. This guy was even alert when he was seemingly unconscious. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, cranky prince.”

  “Sleep well, spoiled princess.” There was that almost gentle, teasing side of him again.

  She smiled and went to bed.

  * * * * *

  Again she was awakened by a deep rumbling voice. “Danielle, get up for breakfast.” It was Merrick.

  She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “You seriously just woke me up for that?”

  “Ethan insists you eat. Regularly.”

  She tugged the blankets up to her chin and looked at the clock. “I never eat breakfast this early.” It was five am. Was Ethan trying to be Mr. Overprotective from across the ocean? She did tend to skip breakfast. Had he noticed the habit? Of course he had, she realized with a frown.

  Merrick sighed and worried his chin with two fingers. “You must for that wee bairn.”

  While deciding “wee barin” meant small child, her attention was drawn to Richard when he said, “Don’t make us force you,” as he entered, eating up the space between the doorway and her bed in long strides.

  “You’d force me to eat breakfast?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Um, Richard,” Cedric interjected, “you can’t force her.”

  Richards’ fists landed on his hips and his eyes narrowed. “Sure I can.” That narrowed gaze shifted from Cedric and landed on her. “You must be fed a well balanced meal three times a day, plus snacks, plus regular tea,” growled the prince.

  “I’ll eat when I’m hungry thanks.” I’m not a toddler, she thought with irritation.

  “Ethan was very specific. Breakfast at—”

  “Give me my phone back. I need to talk to him,” she demanded feeling stubborn.

  Richard cursed and ignored her. “Ethan asked me to get groceries for her.” He turned abruptly and stalked toward the door.

  “You’re shopping?” Cedric asked, his eyes rounding with surprise.

  “One of you two will make food for her while I’m gone. And, when she’s up and dressed, she will eat it.” The prince then left, leaving tangible tension in his wake.

  “I hope he knows what he’s supposed to be getting,” Cedric said.

  Danielle shifted in the bed, then asked, “Has he ever been inside a grocery store?”

  “I highly doubt it,” the Highlander said, still showing white teeth from his amused grin. “What would you like for breakfast, my lady?”

  And since they had woken her up, she decided she was hungry after all. “Pancakes?”

  Merrick turned to Cedric. “Do you know how to make those?”

  “I can do eggs and bacon.”

  She gagged. “I’ll make it.” Danielle shoved the covers aside, dropped her legs over the edge of the bed and then stilled. She was trying to decide if she needed to race for the bathroom, or if she could make it to the kitchen when her stomach roiled at the thought of greasy breakfast meats.

  “She just lost all color in her face.” Concern tainted Merrick’s tone.

  Cedric forced her to lie back down. “We’ll make you something.”

  “Toast. Can you handle toast?” Danielle groaned staring blankly up at the ceiling, thinking that bread might settle her insides.

  “Yes. With fruit preserves.” Merrick stepped away from her bed.

  “And juice.” Cedric followed.

  They left, discussing how to make toast as their footsteps trailed away.

  * * * * *

  Later that day a quick smile curled Danielle’s lips as she looked at her cards. “Uno!” she shouted.

  “All ready? I never win at these things,” Cedric complained.

  Merrick scowled as he was forced to add a seventh card to his hand because he couldn’t play the one Danielle had discarded. “This game is more luck than brain or brawn,” he grumbled.

  “Oh, there’s definitely some strategy involved. You need brains for that, not one of those Highlander swords. What do you call those things?” said Cedric.

  “A Claymore. It is a double-edged blade that is as long as I am tall, and had to be strapped to my back.”

  “So cool. Do you still have it?” Danielle asked.

  “Of course. It is displayed above the fireplace in my castle.”

  After gasping, she asked, “You live in a castle? Do you still wear one of those skirt things?”

  Irritation lined his pursed lips. “A kilt, lass, it is called a kilt, not some feminine, flowery—”

  Cedric chuckled, and then snorted. “A skirt.”

  Merrick growled and rewarded Cedric with an angry kick to the shins. Cedric simply laughed harder, then looked down at his hand of Uno cards. “Ha!” Cedric blasted. “Draw four, Danielle!” Grinning hugely he wagged his eyebrows at her.

  She had nothing to counter that, apparently she wasn’t winning after all. Danielle rolled her eyes and could feel her bottom lip twisting into a pout as she took the cards. “What about you, Cedric? What was life like in eighteen…?”

  “Nineteen forty.”

  “Oh, right.” She watched as Merrick took his turn, and was able to play one card.

  Cedric played his hand after that, his number of cards dropping to three as he answered, “That was when color television was invented, but most people didn’t even own a black and white set because life was largely influenced by World War II, and the depression. But we did have scarlet-lipped, pin-up girls, and Slinkies.”

  A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She’d had a Slinky too. Danielle took her turn, and then The Black Prince returned from shopping in a blacker mood than usual, interrupting their game and conversation. He entered from the garage, his huge hands burdened with six bags each, as he barked out an order, “Merrick, Cedric, come help me put this away.”

  They obeyed swiftly, both wearing mirth on their faces. “Hold the game, Danielle. We’ll be back in a moment.”

  Danielle set her hand of cards down onto the table. With how much the prince was carrying, she figured it would take them longer than a moment, and decided she needed to witness this.

  Their gruff voices drifted from the kitchen and grew louder as she neared it.

  “No, Richard, that’s perishable, it needs to go in the ice box,” Cedric lectured.

  “I remember not having refrigeration, and the cheese was left out on the table. Though it wasn’t an orange brick wrapped in plastic like this,” Richard said with his lip curling in disgust as he considered the package of aged cheddar.

  “Yes, I remember cheese being left out too. That and bread, and fruit, and salted meats,” commented the Highlander.

  “You guys are going to make me sick with your medieval thinking,” she said, stepping from the wood flooring in the hallway to the tiled kitchen. She took the cheese from Richard and stuck it in the refrigerator.

  “I told you it needs to go in the ice box,” said Cedric.

  “Ethan will murder us all if we poison his child-laden bride.”

  Richard and Cedric seemed to agree with Merrick as they stared at her.

  Then Richard spoke while he rubbed his whisker-covered chin, causing a sound somewhat like sandpaper grating against wood. “Danielle, would you please direct us?”

  She snickered. “Sure.”

  Danielle was slightly shocked with how much food Ethan had ordered them to purchase. Was he going back to his old pattern of overfeeding her? It was possible with his concern for the baby. But she was pleased to see so much fresh fruits and vegetables, which went into the “ice box.” Richard and Merrick appeared to be confused by that, but said nothing against it.

  Chapter 15

  Return of the Frog

  The week continued just like that. Well, Richard only made her cry two more times; otherwise they took very good care of her. They did the shopping or purchased takeout, never delivery.

  She did notice that when the sun shifted its position in the sky, the vampires also
shifted a bit further away from her. Of course they were around constantly, but if they were in the family room with her at night, they never sat on the same sofa as she did.

  To keep herself occupied, in the mornings she did her usual workouts in the living room, blasting her hard music through the house. During the day she painted in the art studio that had been set up for her right next to the office, and in the afternoon she watched TV with her vampire bodyguards. She snickered to herself at how many girly movies she’d managed to make them watch: Princess Diaries, Ever After, and The Princess Bride. She gave in a little by letting them watch Tomb Raider, but that was still all about girl power. She reveled in her secret torture of these three tough guys.

  While Danielle remained frustrated with the many restrictions put upon her, she was also grateful for all of the time and effort they’d put into guarding her, and she made certain she shared those words of gratitude often. She felt well protected, and it seemed that nothing had ever happened. And she hoped that the plan had worked and that the others thought she’d been turned along with Ethan.

  Today Ethan was expected to arrive on a late flight. The sun hadn’t set yet and she was on the couch with Merrick and Cedric, while Richard had stretched out on the loveseat. They were watching Arsenic and Old Lace. She loved the black and white classic, but the men complained that they couldn’t figure out how a story about two old ladies who murder lonely men to put them out of their misery was supposed to be funny.

  “Why are you laughing? There’s a dead body in the window seat,” Cedric asked, appalled.

  Danielle couldn’t answer because she was laughing so hard. But she wasn’t laughing at the movie; it was their reaction to it that was killing her.

  She stood to go to the bathroom, and was completely surprised when all of the men shot from their seats just as she did. Oh, yes, she’d forgotten about that. She felt a spark of mischief ignite within her when she realized she could play with this, and dropped back into her seat.