Anna-Maria looked around trying to figure out where she was, but nothing looked familiar. She walked farther away from the building and toward a dirt road. That’s when she saw it, a small, handwritten sign with an arrow that read: Paris, 100 Kilometers North.
And then another sign: Bienvenue à Limoges.
Welcome to Limoges.
Anna-Maria shot awake.
She knew exactly where Fitz was.
chapter 27
The sun was barely up when Anna-Maria quietly got out of bed, such a ball of nervous energy she scarcely slept after the dream awoke her.
She wanted to trust her dream, but how could such things be? She’d heard of dreams foretelling events but hadn’t believed them, though she’d also heard stories about witches who knew things and were killed for knowing them. But there it was. Her dream was so real she had almost been able to smell the decaying prison. She closed her eyes, wanting to see Fitz again, but the desperate image was already fading.
Anna-Maria paced her room. She had the means to get Liam a message, but should she? What if she sent them deep into France on a fool’s mission?
She pulled her robe on and went into the living space to put on a kettle for water. Tea would calm her nerves, and maybe the calm would help her decide what to do.
. . .
Emma struggled to wake up and then didn’t want to. She needed to stay with Anna-Maria, to help her. But she was much less herself when she was in Anna-Maria’s body, and she couldn’t, for the life of her, get her message across that what Anna-Maria had dreamed was, in fact, true.
chapter 28
“She’s not waking up,” Dr. Shepherd announced to Marcel, Astrid, Peyton, and Peter, “We don’t understand why or how, but she may have lapsed into a coma.”
“Oh, my dear girl,” a sob escaped Marcel’s self-control, and Astrid and Peyton each took one of his hands.
“The thing is,” Dr. Shepherd continued, “her brain activity is intense. In fact, it’s incredibly active in a way we’ve frankly never seen before. We know she’s in there, aware on some level, and likely trying to get back to you.”
“I’m not sure I understand what that means,” Peter said with a measure of calm, trying not to upset Marcel any more than he already was.
Dr. Shepherd shook his head, “It means we wait and see. Normally when a patient goes into a coma, their brain activity slows dramatically. That is not the case here, which tells us she could wake up very soon. But it could also be a while, and you should prepare for both. But right now she is stable, and we’re going to move her into her room and out of the ICU. I would recommend sitting with her, talking to her.”
“Can she hear us?” Peyton asked.
The doctor nodded. “There is a great deal evidence indicating that patients can hear while in a coma. But keep in mind this could also be a deeply unconscious state. I’ve called in our neurologist to view her brain scans and give us his recommendations.”
Marcel sat, barely absorbing the doctor’s reassurances. “My darling, Emmeline,” he choked out.
Astrid leaned into him and said, “She’s a strong girl, Marcel. She will be okay.”
But Peter reached a decision at that moment, and he stepped out of the room, picked up the phone, and called Detective Beckett.
“I’m glad you called,” the detective said as soon as she picked up. “I have some interesting news. It seems,” she paused a moment, “that one of the restaurants did have a camera, and we managed to access the footage.”
Peter held his breath, “And did you find out who did this?”
“That’s the most interesting part. The guy who shot Emmeline is a known hired killer. We’ve actually been looking for him for a while. I’m ninety-nine percent certain this was an intentional hit. The question is why. Do you have any ideas?”
“Possibly, but I’d rather not discuss them over the phone.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to discuss it, then. Well, look, we’re hunting for this guy. Once we find him, I’ll bring him in, and maybe we can find out who hired him.”
“You think he’ll give up a name?”
When the detective replied, Peter could easily imagine her smiling like a shark. “I can be very persuasive. I’ll be in touch.”
Peter disconnected the call, his hand shaking with rage.
His phone rang again. It was the Palace, perhaps his father. He picked up.
“Darling, how are you holding up?” Alexandra’s voice literally nauseated him.
“What do you want, Alex?”
“To comfort you, my darling, and to tell you I’m coming to be by your side, to support you.”
Peter opened his mouth to stop her, hesitated, and then said, “That would be fine.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, darling, and we will support Emma together, whatever she needs.” Her voice had the sincerity of a Beverly Hills housewife, but Peter swallowed it and disconnected the call, staring at his cell phone for several minutes before returning to Emma’s room.
chapter 29
Anna-Maria and the children had been at the cottage exactly one week when she had her dream, and she knew the man Liam entrusted to check in on them would arrive with supplies today or tomorrow.
Ever since waking up, Anna-Maria had felt the prickling of a lightning storm inside her. Her entire body tingled.
What if, by some miracle of God, she was right, and she had actually dreamed about where her husband was, and it proved to be true!
She had a hard time believing it herself, but something kept pushing her to treat it as real. She couldn’t bring herself to brush it off as a wistful thought or hope that he was, in fact, alive and would be found, even though part of her was convinced from the beginning that he was alive.
“Mamma, you seem upset,” Fleur commented while she played with her brother on the floor of their cottage.
“I’m fine, darlings. I’m merely eager to see Liam’s friend and find out what he’s brought for us.”
Noah’s expression perked up. “Do you think he’s brought us sweets? I do miss Cook’s sweet breads.”
Anna-Maria fetched up a deep sigh. Yes, she missed them too. She longed for the way things were, with her sweet family and the love of her life.
“He may have some special things with him, Noah, but I do not know what Liam told him to bring us.”
She watched the children return to their game. Dear Liam, he had made sure to pack a few games for them so they wouldn’t be bored living so remotely. He’d thought of everything, and he had been such a good friend. She hoped she wouldn’t lose his friendship now with her possibly insane ramblings.
Her eye fell to the letter on the wooden table. She’d written it after she finished her tea and the voice in her head, that strong, clear voice telling her to do this, kept urging her on. The letter was short. She did not reference the dream, or Liam would have surely thought she was mad. She told him she’d heard something, which was true, albeit in a strange way.
Anna-Maria could hear a horse clopping down the long stretch of dirt road leading to their humble home. It was Frans VanLaar, Liam’s friend and trusted confidant, whom she’d met when they arrived. He’d briefly introduced himself and promised to be back each week, and now here he was. Anna-Maria couldn’t stand it any longer and threw open the door. Frans slowed his horse as he neared the cottage and then came to a stop, hopping off to walk the short distance to tie his horse.
“Good day, ma’am,” Frans dipped his head in a surreptitious bow. “I have provisions on Liam’s orders, and he’s asked me to tell you they are still searching for your husband.”
Anna-Maria nodded, reaching into her pocket to touch the letter she’d picked up off the table and stuffed into the pocket of her skirt before opening the door.
“Mr. VanLaar, thank you for the up
date.”
“Ma’am, please call me Frans. I don’t hold with formalities.” He smiled and began hefting off the large sacks attached to the saddle.
The children emerged from the cabin. “Oh, do you have sweet breads for us?” little Noah asked, and Frans grinned at him.
“I do indeed. A little bird told me you love them.”
“Mamma, did you hear?” Noah jumped and clapped his hands before racing to the man and his horse.
“Yes, darling, that’s wonderful.” Anna-Maria fidgeted for a moment, watching the children help Frans with the bags. She didn’t want the children to see her give this man a letter. They were smart, and they’d surely ask questions. She wasn’t about to tell them about her dream or the letter. She would never want to get their hopes up, only to have them dashed later.
Frans handed them each a parcel, and Anna-Maria said, “Children, take your packages inside, please. I need to speak to Mr. VanLaar—ah, I mean Frans—for a moment.”
“Yes, Mamma,” Fleur and Noah said in unison before they raced inside.
“How may I help you, ma’am?”
Anna-Maria hesitated for a moment and then pulled the letter from her skirt. She was so full of nervous energy, her hand shook as she held the letter out. “This letter is for Liam, and it’s extremely urgent that he get it right away.”
Frans frowned. “Is there anything I can get for you or do to help, ma’am?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. Everything is fine.” But she knew he could see how nervous she was.
The man looked at her more closely. “Ma’am, have you been threatened? Has anyone else come to visit you here?”
She quickly shook her head and sucked in a deep breath, “No, not at all, it’s just…the letter is about something extremely important I neglected to tell Liam before we left.”
Frans took the letter and seemed to accept her lie. “Of course, I shall see to it myself that he gets this straight away.” With a small, respectful bow, he returned to the bags and said, “Now let me get the rest of this into the cottage for you.”
A while later, Anna-Maria watched the man ride off with her letter. She hoped beyond hope that she was right. But what if she was wrong, and Liam or one of the men who had protected her were injured or died because of her madness?
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. She’d have to live with the guilt then, wouldn’t she? Because all that mattered now was finding Fitz.
chapter 30
Emma was moved back into a regular room but still unresponsive.
“Peyton,” Peter said while he watched the hospital staff get Emma settled in, “I think Marcel needs a walk, for some fresh air and a change of pace. Would you and Astrid take him? Just for an hour or so?”
“Of course,” Peyton said, and she could feel something radiate off Peter. Love. Though he genuinely wanted Marcel to get out and breathe fresh air, he also wanted to be alone with Emma.
Peyton beamed at him and then added, “You are as lovely as Emma said you were.” And then she left Peter alone with his Emma.
The hospital staff moved out, and Emma lay there, pale, and looking fragile and beautiful, and he sat down beside her.
“My love,” he whispered, “I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere. I will stand by you until you wake up.”
I’m here! Emma thought, pulling herself briefly out of the past. The transition from past to present in her current state was shockingly simple. In the blink of an eye she was here with Peter, and then in another blink she could be back, guiding Anna-Maria to write the letter and forcing her to give it to Liam’s friend. It had been nearly impossible to direct Anna-Maria’s actions when she traveled back to her time, probably because when she returned to Anna-Maria, she was so much more Anna-Maria than she’d ever been before, as though each trip back got her deeper “in character” as it were.
“Your grandfather is here, as are Astrid and Peyton. I want to reassure you that we are going to find whoever did this to you. Whatever happened, I will not rest until that person is locked up forever.” Peter could hear his own voice tremble with anger, fear, and the hope that at least a little of what he told her penetrated the coma, lifted her hopes, and gave her reason to come back to them soon.
When his cell phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket. It was the Twelfth Precinct, and he was sure it was Detective Beckett calling.
He stood up and walked to the window nearest Emma’s bed. “Hello?”
“It’s Detective Beckett,” she began, “and I have good news. We found the man who shot Emma. He was in Atlantic City, spending money like a sailor on shore leave. When we brought him in, he was more than happy to tell us everything we needed to know.”
chapter 31
Liam read Anna-Maria’s letter twice and then paced his small room, considering his options. Certainly it was worth a look. Her letter started by thanking him again and telling him how the children were doing, and then she said she had an idea about where the King’s kidnappers might be holding him prisoner.
The odd thing was, she didn’t explain how she found out. Whether she overheard the men talking before they kidnapped him, or she discovered it by some other means, Liam decided not to ignore the first and only hint they had regarding the King’s whereabouts.
He burst into the main living quarters where he and his men had found temporary shelter and told them they were going to Limoges. Posthaste.
Despite its popularity at one time during history, Limoges was actually a perfect location for a hideout. It was the last place one would expect to find the King of Belgium. There had been a great deal of unrest there in recent years and most avoided the city unless they worked or lived there. There also was a lot of unoccupied land whose owners fled riots or direct attacks by the disaffected, which remained unclaimed and falling into ruin.
It took Liam and his men—only twelve of them, but heavily armed—about a day’s ride to get to Limoges. He even brought an extra horse in case they found their King.
He kept Anna-Maria’s letter with him in case he needed help remembering the details of her description, which was another puzzling aspect. Even if the men had disclosed where they were taking Fitz, how on earth did she get such detail? Liam nudged his horse to move faster and decided again that finding their King was the only thing that mattered.
“Over here!” Liam pointed to a low structure that looked like it had one time been part of a larger building. Liam could see the skeleton of a structure that had burned to the ground, but, given its weatherworn look, the damage was not recent. Liam guessed it had been many, many years since anyone had even visited this property.
Even though the place looked abandoned, still they took every precaution. Tethering their horses far enough away to be sure they couldn’t be heard, Liam and his men dismounted and used the brush as cover to approach the building. Liam gestured to several of them to go around back, and they quietly approached the building, pistols drawn.
Liam kicked in the door.
No one was there.
No one except King Fitzgerald, handcuffed to a wall and left for dead.
The jailers hadn’t even locked his cell, assuming he could never break out of his shackles.
“Your Majesty! My God, what—?” Liam and several of his men approached the cell, no longer concerned with stealth, while a frighteningly thin, hollow-cheeked, pale, and tired-looking Fitzgerald looked up at them and grinned.
The men who kidnapped Fitz and jailed him had been both smart and stupid. Between leaving the jail door unlocked and leaving the key to his shackles on a nearby keyring, they certainly made it easy to free him.
Liam helped him up while another of the soldiers brought him a canteen of water, which Fitz downed with huge gulps.
“How did you find me?” he croaked finally.
Liam shook
his head, “Sir, you’ll never believe it. Anna-Maria sent us.”
His eyes widened, “She’s well? And the children?”
Liam nodded, “She’s fine. They are safely tucked away in a remote cottage.”
“I need to go now and see them.”
“Sir, if I may, we’ve brought food and a change of clothes and a spare horse. I think you should first eat and wash up, because it’s a day and a half ride from here to where she and the children are staying. I’d like to go with you.”
Fitz shook his head while one of Liam’s men unwrapped a cloth containing bread and cheese, which Fitz ate hungrily.
“No,” he said. “It will draw too much attention. Every one of you needs return to the palace. I will stay one night with my family and return to meet you, and then we will prepare for battle.”
chapter 32
A short while later, Fitz rode off alone, washed, fed, and with enough supplies to get him to his wife’s cottage.
On the way back to the palace, Liam thought often about Anna-Maria’s letter, and puzzled again about how accurately she had described where they would find her husband.
He also wondered why it took her a week to remember those details. Maybe it was the trauma of the event and then the escape into France, or maybe it had been something else. In his years working for the royal family, he’d witnessed the intensity of their connection and knew they were as close as any two people he’d ever known.
For many years to come, every time Liam was asked to retell the story of when they found the King of Belgium, he always added that, while he had never been prone to fanciful notions about the power of love, that single, astonishing moment assured he would never doubt it again.
A Royal Affair Series: Book 1, 2, and 3: A paranormal, time travel, royal romance Page 24