How to Love a Princess

by Claire Robyns

  Catherine was relieved that Nicolas didn’t come down to supper. He’d said that he understood her perfectly, but she didn’t quite believe him and she was too emotionally exhausted to take him on in another round tonight. She’d sent a tray of food up and, although she doubted he’d eat if he were caught up in work, she had no intention of checking up on him. Not tonight.

  Geoffrey, on the other hand, was being affable and charming, chatting about days gone by and the mischief the two of them used to get up to.

  “I miss those days,” he said with a hint of sad nostalgia at the end of the meal.

  “So do I.” Catherine toyed with the stem of her wine glass, feeling every bit as nostalgic as she gazed into the pale gold liquid; not for her childhood, but for those three months in London before her world had blown apart. “To be carefree and happy and blissfully unaware of how easily things can change in a blink of the eye.”

  The pause lasted and the poignancy hung above the table as each recalled private memories. Somewhere in the distance, a grandfather clock chimed the hour of ten.

  Geoffrey threw his head back on a laugh. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m still carefree and happy and I intend to remain as blissfully unaware of life for as long as I can manage.”

  Catherine laughed as well, determined to dispel her gloomy thoughts.

  “I hate to break up the party,” Nicolas drawled from the doorway. “But I need a word with you, Catherine.”

  The laughter dried abruptly as they glanced his way.

  Catherine excused herself and left the table to join him, at once weary again at the prospect of another clash but unable to avoid it. He’d been in his lab since this afternoon and might well have discovered something important.

  As she reached his side, he turned to walk out with her, placing a protective hand at the small of her back. Just before they stepped out of sight, he grinned over his shoulder and called out to Geoffrey, “Don’t wait up. This will probably take a while. Maybe even all through the night.”

  Catherine spun about, forcing him to drop his hand. “Leave Geoffrey alone. To use your eloquent words, I’ve released him, so you can stop with the taunts.”

  “Good.” Nicolas didn’t think he could manage more than that. As determined as he was to get her back, he was acutely aware of exactly how vulnerable he’d made himself again, of how easily he could fail. With Geoffrey out of the way, all he’d done was buy himself a little breathing space, but it was enough.

  “Stop doing that.” Her eyes flashed an icy blue. “Trust me, my decision had nothing to do with your suggestion.”

  “Of course not.” He wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t even care. So long as the man was out of her life.

  He was astounded when she threw her hands up in a huff. What now? He’d done nothing but agree with her.

  “Why did you call me away?” she demanded. “Did you match one of our samples to the poison?”

  He had, but time enough for that tomorrow. They’d all had a long day. Avoiding her last question, he said with a smile, “I wanted a private moment with you.” His smile grew lazy as he gazed into her eyes. “To say goodnight.”

  “To irritate Geoffrey, you mean.” She spun her heels on him and marched off in the direction of the front door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out,” she snapped, not turning around.

  Nicolas made it to the door before her, blocking her way by leaning back against it. His temper flared as he took in her linen trousers and thin matching jacket. “It’s below zero degrees out there.”

  “Move,” Catherine ordered in a low voice, her cheeks flushed with the heat of anger. She wasn’t a complete idiot. All she wanted was a quick breath of air to clear her head.

  She’d been kissed senseless by this man today, as if her heart needed another blow to remember why it was so broken.

  She’d spent the morning and most of the afternoon looking for the source of the poison that might still very well claim her mother’s life, and all that in between fighting off Nicolas, his accusations, his wants, his naive optimism for a rosy future that existed only inside his head.

  Oh, and not to mention breaking off an unspoken marriage agreement that had existed since her birth, Gascon jumping the fence to Nicolas’s side and the depressing hour she’d browsed the internet for information on IVF and any other methods to jump start her solitary family.

  She was teetering at the top of a sheer cliff and was just looking for a reason to jump.

  Nicolas swung his head slowly from one side to the other, his dark gaze boring into her. “You’re not going outside, Catherine.”

  “You can’t stop me.” Her gaze was as hard and dark as his.

  “I already am.”

  She was half aware that a churlish argument had turned into a battle of wills, but was not about to acknowledge it. A greater power hung in the balance here and, by the stubborn set of Nicolas’s jaw, he knew it as well.

  Neither had any intention of backing down.

  “Guards!” Catherine shouted.

  His jaw clenched so tightly, it locked his entire face down in stone.

  Her lips thinned in retaliation.

  The sound of doors clicking softly, the dull stomp of boots on thick carpet, the silent noise made by a dozen guards trained to move quietly and follow commands without a word filled the air behind her.

  “Remove this man from the door.” She didn’t speak loudly, but the ring of authority carried into the hall behind her.

  Nicolas shifted his gaze past her to the hastily gathered troops that had piled into the hallway through various doorways.

  What did they do? Wait with their ears to the door for a command just like this?

  He focused his attention on one of the men up front, middle-aged with cropped orange hair, intelligent eyes and an impeccable uniform with so much brass, he glittered even in the subtle lighting. “Do you know who I am?”

  The man nodded. As Captain of the Guards, the onus was on him to raise the hand that would send his men forward to obey Princess Amelia’s orders. The problem was, for the first time in his career, he was hesitating.

  “Then you’re aware I mean no harm to anyone, least of all your princess,” Nicolas continued. The blunt ache in his chest for what Catherine had done was nothing compared to his resolve. He’d deal with her undermining tactics later. If he didn’t win this round, he suspected it wouldn’t matter anyway. “This is a personal matter.”

  “I gave an order,” Catherine countered.

  Nicolas saw Geoffrey’s head pop out from the Billiard room and his resolve deepened. “If I leave this door, Princess Amelia will go outside into temperatures well below freezing point. If she’s lucky, she’ll catch a chill. More likely, she’ll contract a lung infection that will put her at increased risk in the future every time she gets so much as a sniff.”

  “Nicolas,” she growled in warning.

  He ignored her, intent on staring down the man he’d judged as captain from the amount of brass he wore. He felt no guilt at the gross exaggeration that, with his reputation, would be taken as fact without question. Catherine had her weapons and he had his.

  “Remove him now.”

  Still, Captain Hammond delayed, and not only because Nicolas Vecca was probably the last hope for Queen Helene. Just this evening, the rumours that rumbled incessantly and seemingly without human intervention through the castle walls had put this man as having succeeded where everyone else had failed. Apparently he’d determined the cause of the Queen’s illness and was already working on a cure. In the short month that Nicolas Vecca had lived at the castle, he’d earned the respect of people he wasn’t even aware existed, starting with his bold manner in refusing to accept anything less than Dr. Stanzis’s total dedication to the queen and ending with his obvious concern for Princess Amelia right now.

  For an unemotional man, the Captain didn’t recognise himself when Gascon bustled his way through the troops and he foun
d himself wanting to throw his arms around the massive bodyguard and kiss him on both cheeks.

  Gascon took one look at the situation and surmised the gist of it without being told a word. “What is going on here?”

  “I want to go outside—” Catherine started.

  “And I won’t let her,” Nicolas finished.

  Gascon expelled a noisy breath as he watched them glaring at each other. “Why?”

  “For fresh air.”

  “It’s too cold out there.”

  They both sounded like petulant, stubborn teenagers and Gascon was suddenly feeling old enough to be their grandfather. “Did either of you consider the simple solution of a coat?”

  “That’s not the point,” they barked in unison, turning their glares on him.

  “I rather thought so.” He stepped between them, facing Catherine with his back to Nicolas and spoke in a low voice that only she could hear. “Dismiss the guards, Catherine.”

  Her chin went high. “I should relieve them all from their duty for insubordination.”

  “Everyone is depending on Nicolas to save your mother. How can you expect them to choose between you and their queen? You know better than to abuse your power.”

  The gentle rebuke scattered the rage that had temporarily taken control of her. Her head was throbbing. She was so very tired. The emotional stress of the day had undone her and her worst fear had been realised. She’d used her power to thwart Nicolas. Only, she hadn’t exactly succeeded.

  She slowly turned to look at her guards, whose loyalty had never wavered before this moment. “The situation is under control,” she told them. “You may return to your posts.”

  The relief was palpable on each and every face, most of all the Captain’s. As they watched the guards depart, Catherine murmured, “It isn’t just my mother, is it?”

  “The men respect Nicolas. If he actually manages to heal the queen, he’ll be a national hero.” Not that her failure tonight would stop the famous de’Ariggo temper next time, Gascon thought.

  “They’d never dare hesitate when I’m queen.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  She frowned up at him, startled by this viewpoint. Gascon, of all people, should know better. He knew the history of her grandfather and great-grandfather. He’d held her hand at age five when her father had packed his bags and stormed from the castle, never to return.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Gascon shrugged a shoulder. “I told you he is different.”

  “Catherine,” Nicolas called in a deadly quiet voice.

  She spun back to him, then gulped at the look on his face. He was angry. Very angry.

  “That was the worst case of a temper tantrum I’ve ever seen.” His features were so tensed, his lips barely moved as he spoke. His eyes were dark, deep and narrowed to slits. “Don’t try it on me again.”

  With that, he loped past her in long strides that quickly took him across the hall and up the stairs.

  “If the guards had forcibly removed him, he’d be storming off in the opposite direction,” she predicted. Nicolas might command more authority than any of the previous men in her family, but underneath, they were all the same. “The only reason he’s not heading for the door is because he managed to overrule me, this time. His pride is intact.”

  “Will you never cease underestimating the man?”

  “I’m not underestimating him, Gascon. I’m protecting him.”

  “If you say so.”

  Catherine rubbed at her throbbing temples. The day had been one long fight and the end was nowhere in sight.

  “He passed your test,” Gascon mused. “Will you listen to your heart now instead of your past?”

  “What test?” she countered.

  Gascon wasn’t misled by the denial. Catherine might not admit that she was sounding out the prospect of her and Nicolas, not even to herself, but her heart would not remain quiet.

  For the first time in years, Gascon saw a light flicker in the blackness of her world and said a silent prayer that the harsh legacy left to her would not snuff it.

  7

  Catherine didn’t need to speculate long on Gascon’s comments. Even if last night was some kind of subconscious test, she was about to have the real thing.

  “You need to shut down the mines,” Nicolas stated, barging into her office without knocking and pulling up a seat at the opposite end of the desk as he slapped a folder down in front of him.

  That he chose to sit as far as possible from her was not lost of Catherine. He was still livid about last night. Her heart, meanwhile, spiked at his news. “If this is your way of informing me that you’ve identified the poison, your bedside manner is severely wanting.”

  Nicolas gave himself a mental kick on the shin.

  He’d been so wrapped up in his alarming discovery this morning, yesterday’s yield was old news and he’d completely forgotten that he hadn’t yet told her. “I’m sorry, Catherine. Yes, I found a match in the rock samples and I’m working on the serum to fight the triggered infection and counteract the invasion. The procedure is complex, but I’m hoping for a positive result by tomorrow.”

  “Oh, thank God,” she murmured on a breathless sigh.

  As he watched, he could almost see the dark aura that had been weighing down her spirit depart, tilting her lips up into their natural curve as it ascended, rubbing out the faint lines above her brow that he’d mistaken for early aging, washing the tiredness from her eyes.

  As furious as he was over her childish performance with the guards, he was happy that he’d been the one to put a smile back into her soul. If she’d allow him, he’d spend the rest of his life ensuring that it stayed there.

  After last night, however, his confidence had slipped another notch.

  She stretched her arms over the desk, as if reaching for him, her gaze shimmering with the hope inside. “How can I ever thank you?”

  Reach for me.

  Hold onto me.

  Trust in me enough to keep me.

  He shook the thoughts loose and let them go before answering. “You can thank me by shutting down those mines.”

  “I’m listening,” Catherine said, putting away her happiness to savour later. There were a hundred and one reasons why production could never be stopped, but his concerns would be addressed and some other solution found.

  Nicolas leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. “The rock contains a poisonous mineral, undiscovered to the general public as yet although I’m sure your experts in America and Russia are well aware of it and its properties.”

  “No one’s going to accidentally grind a lump of rock into a fine powder and ingest it,” Catherine contributed thoughtfully. “Half the earth must be made up of minerals that are inadvisable for consumption.”

  “This morning I found traces of the mineral in all the plant and grass samples taken directly out of the rock.”

  “That seems reasonable.” Catherine pulled a notepad closer and started jotting down notes. “I’ll call an immediate meeting with the supervisors and—” She glanced up. “I’d appreciate if you’d attend, to share your information firsthand.” At his nod, she looked down again and continued with her notes. “Pamphlets will be released throughout Ophella as a special alert. We’ll need an emergency briefing on each shift change before the miners go down—”

  “Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “You still intend to send the miners in?”

  “I’ll take every precaution in the book and more, but the mines stay open.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  She sat back. “Nicolas, our hills are flush with vegetation that is harmful to the body. The only difference, other than that this was purposefully administered in a crime against my mother, was our ignorance of its existence and lack of medication in the case of contamination up to now.”

  And so the argument began, spinning loops inside her head. No matter what measures she proposed, Nicolas was insistent that all the mines be shut while h
e completed a thorough investigation and produced a conclusive report.

  “I’ll put one mine at your disposal,” Catherine conceded eventually, her stomach clenched at the repercussions. Russia and America would not easily accept the reduction. “I can’t do more than that.”

  Nicolas jumped to his feet, palms banged down on the desk. “You can do anything you want to. You’ve spared no pains to ram the extent of your power down my throat, now all of a sudden your hands are tied?”

  She pushed up from her chair to meet his angry stare. “This goes beyond Ophella’s borders. If the problem was more serious, a threatening epidemic or widespread contamination, then I’d be forced to bear the consequences and take your advice.”

  “It is serious. We have no idea of the extent of the contamination.”

  “The mines are a secure site,” she said firmly. “Disaster of any nature can and will be contained, which is much more than I can vouch for if we shut down production.”

  “Spare me the melodrama, Catherine.”

  “Melodrama?” she spluttered.

  His brows went up in unspoken contempt, draining her energy, her anger, her fight. She sank into her chair to stare at his dark, grim face. So, this is how it begins. If she didn’t already know the ending, she’d prepare for battle.

  But she did know.

  It was one of the endings she’d hoped to avoid by leaving him four years ago. The preferred one, considering the alternative.

  Taking her cue, Nicolas dropped down with a growl of frustration. “Why are you doing this? Just because you can? To push me away again?”

  “Don’t make this personal,” she said wearily.

  “It already is.”

  Catherine shook her head at him. “I don’t make decisions concerning Ophella on a whim. Don’t for one moment think I’ve forgotten that my mother is a victim of attempted murder and this mineral was the weapon. There’s more to consider here than you can possibly imagine.”

  “Obviously,” he barked sarcastically. “Forgive me, but I have a problem imagining anything worse than risking human life.”