The Lost Princes: Darius, Cassius & Monte

by Raye Morgan

  “Oh, Monte, no,” she sighed, the sweetness of his lips still branding hers. She felt so wonderful in his arms, like a rose petal floating downstream. The music, the cool night air, his strong arms around her—what could be better?

  “Please,” she whispered, reaching for him again.

  “Not now, my darling,” he whispered back, nuzzling behind her ear. “There are people nearby. And there are things that must be done.”

  “Like what?” she murmured rather sulkily, but she was beginning to come back to her senses as well and she sighed, realizing that he was perfectly right to deflect her. “Oh, bother,” she muttered, annoyed with herself as her head cleared. “There you go, flying me to the moon again.”

  He laughed softly, dropping one last kiss on her lips. “There will be plenty of time for that later,” he promised.

  “No there won’t,” she said sensibly. “I’ll be married. And if you think you’re going to be hanging around once that has happened, you’d better think again.”

  She couldn’t help but wince as she let herself imagine just how bereft her world was going to be.

  But she managed to keep a fiercely independent demeanor. “There are certain lines I swear I will never cross.”

  He gazed at her, his blue eyes clouded and unreadable. “What time is the announcement planned for?” he asked her.

  She looked up at him in surprise. “Just before the midnight buffet,” she answered, then frowned, alarmed. “Wait. Monte! What are you planning to do?”

  “Who, me? Why would you think I was planning anything at all?”

  “Because I know you.” She planted her hands on his shoulders and shook him. “Don’t do it! Whatever you’re planning, don’t!”

  He pretended to be wounded by her suspicion, though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. “I can’t believe you have so little faith in me,” he said.

  She started to respond, but then her gaze caught sight of something that sent her pulse racing. “Leonardo,” she whispered to Monte. “He’s found us.”

  “Oh, good,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to him.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PELLEA DREW IN A SHARP BREATH, filled with dread as she watched Leonardo approach.

  “I’ll hold him off if you want to make a run for it,” she told Monte urgently, one hand gripping his shoulder. “But go quickly!”

  “Why would I run?” he said, turning to meet the man, still holding her other hand. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  “Oh, Monte,” she whimpered softly, wishing she could cast a spell and take them anywhere else.

  Leonardo’s face was filled with a cold fury that his silver mask couldn’t hide.

  “Unhand my fiancée, sir,” he ordered, his lip curling and one hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. “And identify yourself, if you please.”

  Monte’s smile was all pure, easy confidence. “You don’t allow hand holding with old friends?” he asked, holding Pellea’s hand up where Leonardo could see his fingers wrapped around hers. “Pellea and I have a special connection, but it’s nothing that should concern you.”

  “A special connection?” Leonardo repeated, seeming momentarily uncertain. “In what way?”

  “Family connections,” Monte explained vaguely. “We go way back.” But he dropped her hand and clicked his heels before giving Leonardo a stiff little bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the Count of Revanche. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

  Leonardo looked a bit puzzled, but much of his fury had evaporated and a new look of interest appeared on his long face. “Revanche, is it?”

  “Yes.” Monte stuck out his hand and gave the man a broad smile. It was fascinating how the hint of royalty always worked magic, especially with dictator types. They always seemed a little starstruck by a title, at least at first. He only hoped the sense of awe would last long enough to save him from ending up in a jail cell.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Leonardo,” he said heartily. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m hoping the reality can compete with the legend.”

  Leonardo hesitated only a moment, then stuck out his own hand and Monte shook it warmly.

  “Have I heard of you before?” he asked.

  Monte gave a grand shrug. “That’s as may be. But I’ve heard of you.” He laughed as though that was quite a joke. “Your father and I go way back.”

  “My father?” Leonardo brightened. “How so?”

  Monte nodded wisely. “He’s meant a great deal to me in my life. In fact, I wouldn’t be the man I am today without his strong hand in my early training.”

  “Ah, I see.” Leonardo began to look downright welcoming. “So he has mentored you in some way.”

  Monte smiled. “One might say that. We were once thick as thieves.”

  Leonardo actually smiled. “Then you will be happy to know he is going to make an appearance here tonight.”

  Monte’s confidence slipped just a bit, but he didn’t let it show. “Is he? What a treat it will be to see him again. I’ll be happy to have a drink with him.”

  “Well, why not have a drink with me while we await his arrival?” Leonardo suggested. He was obviously warming to this visiting count and had forgotten all about the manhandling of his future bride. “Come along, Pellea,” he said, sweeping them back into the ballroom with him. “We must make sure our guest is well supplied with refreshment.”

  Her gaze met Monte’s and she bit her lip. She could see what he was doing, but she didn’t like it at all. The moment an opportunity arose, she would help him make a run for it. That was the only thing she could see that would save him. This manly bonding thing couldn’t last once the truth began to seep out.

  But Monte gave her a wink and his eyes crackled with amusement. He was obviously having the time of his life fooling someone who didn’t even realize he was dealing with his worst enemy.

  They made their way to the bar, and by the time they got there, a crowd of Leonardo’s friends and hangers-on had joined them.

  “Come,” Leonardo said expansively. “We must drink together.”

  “Of course,” Monte agreed cordially. “What are we drinking?”

  The bartender slapped a bottle of something dark and powerful-looking on the bar and everyone cheered.

  “We must share a toast,” Monte said, holding his glass high. “Let us drink to destiny.”

  “To destiny!”

  Each man downed his drink and looked up happily for more. The bartender obliged.

  “And to fathers everywhere,” Monte said, holding his glass up again. “And to General Georges Granvilli in particular.”

  “Well. Why not?” Leonardo had just about decided Monte was the best friend he’d ever had by now. He pounded him on the back at every opportunity and merrily downed every drink Monte put before him.

  Pellea watched this spectacle in amazement. But when Monte offered her a glass, she shook her head.

  “Pellea, come share a toast with us,” he coaxed, trying to tempt her. “I’ll get you something fruity if you like.”

  She shook her head firmly. “No. I don’t drink.”

  He blinked at her, remembering otherwise and sidling a bit closer. “You drank happily enough two months ago,” he said to her quietly. “We practically bathed in champagne, as I remember. What’s changed?”

  She flashed him a warning look. “That was then. This is now.”

  He frowned, ready to take that up and pursue an answer, but Leonardo wrapped an arm around his neck and proclaimed, “I love you, man.”

  “Of course,” Monte said with a sly smile. “You and I are like blood brothers.”

  Pellea blanched. Was she the only one who got a chill at hearing his words?

  “Blood brothers.” Leonardo had imbibed too much to be able to make head nor tails of that, but it sounded good to him.

  Monte watched him with pity. “You don’t understand that,” he allowed. “I’m going to have to explai
n it to you. But for now, trust me.” He raised his glass into the light, glad no one seemed to notice that he had never actually drunk what was in it. “Blood brothers under the skin.”

  “Are we, by God?” Leonardo was almost in tears at the thought.

  “Yes,” Monte said with an appropriate sense of irony. “We are.”

  Pellea shook her head. She could see where this was inevitably going and knew there would probably be no announcement of their engagement tonight. Unless Monte volunteered to prop the man up for it, and that wasn’t likely.

  All in all, this appeared to be a part of his plan. Didn’t he understand that it would do no good? The announcement would be made, one way or another, before the wedding, and that was only two days away. He couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t let him.

  He caught her eye, gesturing for her to come closer. “Do you think Georges will really make an appearance?” he whispered to her.

  She shook her head. “I have no idea. I haven’t seen him in months. They always say he is in France, taking the waters for his health. For all I know, he’s been right here this whole time, watching television in his room.”

  Monte glanced at Leonardo, who was laughing uproariously with a couple of his mates. One more toast and it was pretty obvious he wouldn’t be capable of making an engagement announcement.

  “Wait here, my love,” he said softly. “I have to finish what I’ve started.”

  “Monte, no!” She grabbed his arm to keep him with her, but he pulled away and joined the men at the bar.

  “A final toast,” he offered to Leonardo. “To our new and everlasting friendship.”

  “Our friendship!” cried Leonardo, turning up his glass and taking in the contents in one gulp. Then, slowly, he put the glass down. Staring straight ahead, his eyes glassy, he began to crumble. His knees went first, and then his legs. Monte and a couple of the others grabbed him before he hit the ground. A sigh went through the crowd. And, at the same time, bugles sounded in the hallway.

  “The General is coming!” someone cried out. “It’s General Georges.”

  “Prepare for the arrival of the General.”

  Shock went through the crowd in waves, as though no one knew exactly what to do, but all realized something had to be done. Their leader was coming. He had to be welcomed in style.

  One of Leonardo’s friends sidled up to Monte. “We’ve got to get him out of here before his father comes,” he whispered urgently. “There’ll be hell to pay. Believe me, the old man will kill him.”

  Monte looked at the limp young gentleman who thought he was going to marry Pellea and had a moment of indecision. What did he care if Georges saw his son like this? It wasn’t his problem.

  And yet, in a way, it was his fault. Leonardo was not his enemy. His rival, yes. But it was Leonardo’s father who was his mortal enemy. And perhaps it would be just as well if Georges wasn’t distracted by focusing his rage on his hapless son.

  Because he did plan to face him. How could he avoid the confrontation he’d spent his life preparing for?

  “Let’s go,” he said to the man who’d approached him. “Let’s get him to his chambers before his father gets here.”

  He looked back at Pellea, signaling her to his intentions. But she wasn’t paying attention any longer. A servant had come to find her.

  “My lady, your father is ill and asking for you,” he said nervously.

  Pellea reacted immediately. “My father! Oh, I must go.”

  Monte stopped her for only a moment. “I’ll meet you at your father’s room as soon as I can make it,” he told her.

  She nodded, her eyes wide and anxious. “I must go,” she muttered distractedly, and she hurried away.

  Monte looked back at the task at hand and gritted his teeth. It wasn’t going to be a pretty chore, but it had to be done.

  “Let’s get him out of here,” he said, hoisting Leonardo up with the assistance of two other men. And, just as they heard Georges arrive at the main ballroom entrance, they slipped out the side door.

  “I’ll be back, Georges,” Monte whispered under his breath. “Get ready. We’ve got business between us to settle. Old business.”

  Monte slipped into Pellea’s father’s room and folded his form between the drapes to keep from being seen. Pellea was talking to the doctor and her father seemed to be sleeping.

  The doctor began to pack his black bag and Pellea went to her father’s bedside. Monte watched and saw the anguished love in her face as she leaned over the man. There was no denying this simple truth—she adored her father and she wouldn’t leave him.

  Monte closed his eyes for a moment, letting that sink in. There was no way he would be able to take her with him. All his kidnapping plans—in the dust. In order to get her to leave he would have to render her unconscious and drag her off, and that wasn’t going to happen.

  When the idea had first formed, he’d assumed she would come at least semi-willingly. Now he knew that was a fantasy. Her love for her father was palpable. She would never leave while he was still alive. And yet, how could he leave her behind? How could he leave her to the tender mercies of the Granvillis? The more he saw of her, the more he got to know her, the more he felt a special connection, something he’d never felt with a woman before. He wanted her with him.

  But more than that, he wanted her safe. Leaving her here with Leonardo would be torture. But what could he do?

  Invade, a voice deep in his soul said urgently. The sooner the better.

  Yes. There really was no other option left.

  So he would return to the continent empty-handed. Not quite what he’d promised his supporters waiting for him in Italy.

  But all was not lost on that score. He had another plan—something new. Instead of kidnapping their most desirable woman, he would take their most valuable possession.

  He was going to steal the tiara.

  “Please tell me how he really is,” she said anxiously to the doctor. “Don’t sugarcoat anything. I need to know the truth.” She took a deep breath and asked, “Is he in danger?”

  “In other words, is he going to die tonight?” Dr. Dracken translated. “Not likely. Don’t worry. But he is very weak. His heart is not keeping up as it should.” He hesitated, then added, “If you really want me to be blunt, I’d have to say I wouldn’t give him much more than six months. But this sort of thing is hugely unpredictable. Next year at this time, you might be chiding me for being so pessimistic.”

  “Oh, I hope so,” she said fervently as she accompanied him to the door. “Please, do anything for him that you can think of.”

  “Of course. That’s my job, Pellea, and I do the best I can.”

  The doctor left and Monte reached out and touched her as she came back into the room.

  “Oh!” She jumped back, then put her hand over her heart when she realized it was him. “Monte! You scared me.”

  “Sorry, but once I was in, I was going to startle you no matter how I approached it.”

  She looked at him with tragic eyes. “My father…” Her face crumpled and she went straight into his arms and clung to him.

  “Yes,” he said, holding her tenderly, stroking her hair. “I heard what the doctor said. I’m so sorry, Pellea. I truly am.”

  She nodded. She believed him.

  “He’s sleeping now. The doctor gave him something. But a little while ago he was just ranting, not himself at all.” She looked up into his face. “They are bringing in a nurse to stay with him tonight and tomorrow I’m going to sit with him all day.”

  He nodded, and then he frowned, realizing his fingers were tangling in her loosened hair. She was wearing it down. All the fancy work Magda had put into her coiffure was gone with the wind.

  “Pellea, what happened to the tiara?” he asked.

  She drew back and reached up as though she’d forgotten it was gone. “The guards took it back to its museum case,” she said. She shook her head sadly. “I wonder if I’ll ever get to wear it aga
in.”

  He scowled, regretting that he’d let her get away before doing what he’d planned to do. Unfortunately, this threw a spanner into the works. Oh, he was still going to steal the thing. But now he was afraid he would have to do some actual breaking and entering in order to achieve his objective.

  But when he looked at her again, he found her studying him critically, looking him up and down, admiring the uniform, and the man wearing it. He’d lost the mask somewhere, but for the rest, he looked as fresh as he had at the beginning of the evening.

  “You know what?” she said at last, her head to the side, her eyes sparkling. “You would make one incredibly attractive Ambrian king.”

  He laughed and pulled her back into his arms, kissing her soundly. Her arms came up and circled his neck, and she kissed him back. Their bodies seemed to meet and fit together perfectly. He had a quick, fleeting thought that this might be what heaven was made of, but it was over all too soon.

  She checked that her father was sleeping peacefully, then turned to Monte again. “Come sit down and wait with me,” she said, pulling him by the hand. “And tell me what happened in the ballroom after I left. Did the General actually appear?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t stay any longer than you did. With all the chaos that ensued upon Leonardo’s…shall we call it a fall from grace…?”

  He flashed her a quick grin, but she frowned in response and he sobered quickly, looking abashed.

  “There you were, rushing off to see to your father. People were shouting. No one knew exactly what was going on for quite some time. And I and all my new mates picked up your fiancé and carried him to his rooms.”

  “I’m glad you did that,” she said. “I would hate to think of what would have happened if his father had seen him like that.”

  “Yes,” he said a bit doubtfully. “Well, we tucked him into his bed and I nosed around a little.”

  “Oh?”

  “And I find I need to warn you of something.”

  She smiled. “You warning me? That’s a twist on an old theme, isn’t it?”

  “I’m quite serious, Pellea.” He hesitated until he had her complete attention. “Did it ever occur to you that you might not be the only one with a video monitoring system in this castle?”