To Dream of You: The Royal House of Atharia, Book 1

by Gill, Tamara

  Niccolo shouted out orders for the stable staff to light the fire in the men's quarters and place a cot close to the hearth. Holly followed him to the room and stood back as the men went about Niccolo's orders. When they went to strip off his shirt, her head guard paused, raising one brow in her direction. "It's probably best, Miss Holly if you wait outside and let us take over from herein. We'll give the man a shot of brandy, and if you could have cook bring out a bed warmer, that'll be right good."

  Holly nodded. "Of course. I'll go and tell her straightaway, and let me know if there's anything I can do. I'll be in the library if you're looking for me."

  Niccolo tipped his head. "Right you are, Miss Holly," he said, pulling the shirt fully from the man. Holly took a calming breath at the sight of his naked chest. So firm and strong, lovely tanned color and smooth. In her haste to warm him, she had not had the time to admire his athletic build, but she could now. The man, no matter who he was, was akin to an Adonis.

  She hoped the heat burning her cheeks wasn't noticeable to her men whom she passed on her way to the house. A princess did not blush over the body of a common man. How vulgar.

  Even so, she had to admit the stranger was as handsome as sin. And if Holly knew anything at all, it was that sin was not to be sought. Her marriage would be to a man of royal blood or connections—a man who brought wealth and power so no one could threaten Atharia or her people again.

  Once she removed her uncle from the thrown that he had stolen from her.

  The kitchen’s warmth was a welcome reprieve from the chilling wind that had accompanied the storm the night before as she stepped inside. Cook looked up from rolling dough on the table and smiled. "Miss Holly, lovely to see you today. Is there something I can help you with?"

  "Can you send out a heating pan to the staff quarters? I found a man today on the beach, and he's quite cold and in need of warming up. Actually, make it two pans. He may need more than one. He was in a frightful state." Holly started for the library. "I shall have tea and biscuits in Lord Bainbridge's office if you please."

  For a moment, Holly watched the cook pack the warming pan with red-hot coals from the stove and prepare a small meal for the stranger. It must have been the man's lucky day, for had her mount not needed a run after missing yesterday due to the storm, she would never have gone, and his fate could've been quite different.

  The cook placed the food onto a tray for a maid to take out to the stable. "Do you believe he's going to survive? What a terrible situation for you to come across, not to mention an unfortunate situation for the man as well."

  Holly could not agree more. The circumstances were quite shocking. "With rest and the warming pans, I'm sure he'll pull through. If we heat him from the inside as well as out as we intend, I'm sure he'll recover. He certainly looks stern enough."

  Niccolo poked his head into the kitchen and stepped inside when he spied her. "I've come to collect the pans, but I wanted to confirm that we'll tell the lad once he's coherent the same as we tell everyone else we've encountered."

  "Yes, I think that's best since we do not know who he is or if he's working for my uncle," Holly said, putting a small teacup on her tray.

  "I will have two men follow him at all times. Of course, with his wound, he'll not be going far for a day or two. Even so, once he's healed, we shall shadow him, and he'll be none the wiser." Niccolo stood tall and clasped his hands behind his back while waiting for a reply.

  Holly was pleased with her guard's unfailing support and care. "I'm only two months away from returning home to Atharia to take up my duties there. The man doesn't need to know anything other than I'm Miss Holly Devereux visiting from abroad. If he is not one of my uncle's men, being here puts him in danger, and unfortunately he’ll be held here while he recovers. We need to keep watch of him at all times and never allow him to be near my person without one of the guards attending with him."

  "Of course, Miss Holly."

  Niccolo bowed deeply, backing out of the kitchen, hands full with warming trays, a maid following close on his heels with the stranger's food.

  Holly watched as the cook placed a steaming pot of tea on her tray, the biscuits and teacup already set upon it. "I can carry this to the library. Thank you, Mrs. Colton." Holly ignored the servant's protests, carrying the tray herself. The last three months in England had been the most delightful she'd ever known, up to the point her uncle had tried to take her life. Now it was a waiting game, a time to remain hidden in the English countryside before she could return home and face her tyrant uncle.

  Holly wasn't afraid to admit that she would miss England when she returned home. The land, the solitude where she could hear herself think, had given her time to see another way to live. She was a stronger woman now, and she would need to be strong for what awaited her back in Atharia. Her uncle would not be an easy man to overthrow.

  A knock on the door sounded before Mrs. Colton entered and curtsied. "Miss Holly, the man you found on the beach today has woken. A promising sign, to be sure. He was curious as to who found him. He doesn't seem to know where he is."

  "Thank you." Holly stood and went to the windows that looked out over the estate's western side. The sun was dipping in the west, and dusk was upon them. Her men could talk to him. See if they could get him to tell them where he was from and why he was here. She could only hope for his own sake that his reasons were not underhanded. That he wasn't here to kill her. A mistake he would only make once when her men gained hold of him.

  "Tell Niccolo that he has full authority to question the man as much as he needs to find out the truth. No physical persuasion, you understand. Not unless he's working for my uncle. Only then can Niccolo use force," she said, striding over to the chair before the fire and taking a seat, pouring herself a cup of tea.

  "Yes, Miss Holly. I shall tell Niccolo right away."

  Holly leaned back in her chair and slipped her feet up beside her. The sound of the rain patting the window soon turned into a deluge that made her view of the outdoors blurry. The English weather was one element she would not miss, having lived in the Mediterranean, the warmth that accompanied such living was one aspect she would be happy to return to.

  She trusted her men to find out exactly who the mystery man was and where he was from.

  And if at all possible, send him back from whence he came so she could get on surviving the next two months before her return to Atharia and not concern herself with anything other than that.

  Chapter 3

  With his memory restored after a good night’s rest, Drew lay still, listening to the men in the alley of the stable. They spoke of a woman named Miss Holly, one of the men's instructions whispered and beyond his hearing.

  He cocked his eye open a little, making out the room where he'd been placed. The woolen blankets itched, irritating his skin, and the mattress was no better than the wooden floor beneath it. For a moment, Drew regretted leaving Sotherton. Not that he regretted doing as Miss Landers asked. They would not suit, and he would be better off, allowing her the time she needed to elope and remove the threat of a marriage neither of them wanted.

  The mention of Atharia, a small country that sat off the coast of Italy, caught his attention. He did not move, merely listened as the men spoke of an attack against a princess, whomever that may be. He frowned, wondering why the men would be bothered with a woman and family that was thousands of miles away.

  Odd behavior indeed.

  A recollection of her sat at the edge of his mind. Of a woman with long, chocolate locks and a face as sweet as a sea nymph looking over him teased his senses. Who was that woman? Had he dreamed her when he was so near to death?

  Drew rubbed his jaw, sitting up. He needed to find out where he was, and with any luck, these people who had found him would help him travel to his friend's home where he was headed.

  "The lad may be one of the henchmen sent by the regent king. We cannot trust him, nor can we allow him to leave until we know he has not led a
nyone here to hurt the princess or is the assassin himself."

  One of the men scoffed. "He's a strapping lad, but nothing that we could not eliminate. I do not think he has anything to do with Atharia or the crown."

  Drew frowned, unsure if he agreed with the notion that he would be easily removed as if nothing more than a trifling weed in a garden. He'd ridden horses before he could run, trained at Gentleman Jacksons, and was an expert at fencing. Not to mention his eye was accurate when it came to shooting. Granted, he'd never had a duel or shot another human being before, but he had shot game and never missed.

  "Even so, Miss Holly wants him watched."

  "Very good, sir," the man said, the sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards telling Drew they had gone on with whatever duties they had. Miss Holly? Was that the woman who had rescued him? That she was mentioned in the same breath as this princess whose life was apparently in jeopardy… Did that mean they were one and the same?

  The door to the stall in which he sat slid open and in ducked a large, dark-skinned man, his hair as black as the night and the large scar traveling down one side of his face from his eye to his chin was thick enough to have warranted death on a mortal.

  A lucky man indeed to have survived such a blow.

  "Good, you're awake. Come, Miss Holly wanted to see you when you were conscious."

  The man left just as quick and, standing, Drew checked his trews, happy to find them on. He glanced about the space, spying his shirt and jacket laid over a nearby chair. He slipped them on quickly, following the behemoth of a man as he started out the stable doors.

  His skin prickled, and Drew knew he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder as he stepped outside, seeing a whole army of men of similar girth and height as the man he followed. They looked like an army of berzerkers just waiting until their bloodlust put them into a furor.

  Drew wasn't a small man, but he felt a little out of his league against these behemoths. The house was a large country home, nothing like Sotherton, his own, but still, a home that a country gentleman or squire may dwell within. He was sure he had seen it before but could not place the name right at this moment.

  The golden stone walls and glistening windows gave the house a welcoming feel, completely opposite to the men who stood at the door, arms crossed, their eyes set upon him with unwavering annoyance.

  Drew lifted his chin, passed the guards, and entered the building. Inside, the household staff went about their business, a distinctive smell of cooking meat wafted through the house, and his stomach rumbled, the reminder that he'd not eaten well for a couple of days.

  The berzerker started toward a room that faced the front of the house and gestured for Drew to enter at the door. He slid past the man, hearing the door close behind him. Drew did not know if he were alone with the woman who sat behind the desk or not, but nor did he care. The pit of his stomach clenched hard, the breath in his lungs squeezed out through his lips, and he fought not to gasp at the woman who stared, unflinchingly, back at him.

  With a ramrod posture and lifted chin, authority all but oozed out of every pore on her creamy, white skin. But it was her eyes, a green so alight, so bright, that he'd never before seen anything like it.

  No, that was untrue. Drew had seen a similar shade on his mother's emerald ring that his father had gifted her upon their marriage.

  He nodded in welcome. "You wished to see me, Miss Holly?" he stated, using the name the other men at the estate had.

  She gestured for him to sit, crossing her hands on the mahogany desk before her. Her soft-pink gown hugged her ample bosom, the pretty little ribbon tied beneath her chest all but teasing his gaze to dip and take its fill.

  Drew cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to stay above her neck.

  "I did. I was hoping that you could tell me who you are and what you're doing here? How it is that you came to be on the beach only two miles away, only hours from death and claiming you did not know who you were?"

  Drew remembered perfectly well what he was doing on that beach. The storm had come up so quickly that he had not made landfall before it crashed from above. The boat had overturned, and somehow he'd managed to swim to the shore, but no further. So exhausted from his fight to remain alive, he had, he supposed, passed out on the sand.

  He studied the woman, this Miss Holly they called her, and he could not help but believe she was the princess the guards had spoken of. No one, not even his father, the duke, had guards at the front door, standing, watching, waiting for war.

  "I may, I admit, have been a little muddled after my ordeal, but I’m more than aware of who I am and how I came to be on your beach. My boat overturned and I thankfully made it to shore. I apologize if my being here is troubling for you in some way.”

  She stared at him and he could see she was mulling over his words. Debating if he was telling the truth or not.

  “The same could be asked of you, could it not?” he continued. “Your guards mentioned a princess." He gestured to the window. "From what I can see of your ample protection here, I can only assume that Miss Holly isn't your real name. Am I correct in that estimation?”

  Miss Holly or the princess or whomever she was narrowed her eyes, a flicker of steel entering her green orbs. "I see my protectors have not been guarded enough when it comes to my identity."

  Drew shrugged, looking about the study. He spied the large portrait of a woman above the mantel, and he remembered, finally, which stately home he was in. "Where is Lord Bainbridge? Is he in town for the Season?"

  "You know Lord Bainbridge?"

  "I do. Quite well, in fact, and Lady Bainbridge. I'm Drew Meyers, Marquess of Balhannah, and future Duke Sotherton. Lord Bainbridge and my father have been friends for many years. I have not seen you, however, in town this Season. I would have remembered you, I would think."

  If he expected Miss Holly to blush and simper at his compliment, he was sadly mistaken. Her lips thinned into a displeased line, and he had the oddest sensation she was angry with him. Annoyed even at his presence here or his roundabout compliments.

  She sighed, sitting up straighter, if that were even possible. "You are right, Lord Balhannah. I am HRH the Crown Princess Holly of Atharia. I came over to England to enjoy a Season with my friend Lady Mary, Lord Bainbridge's eldest daughter. Circumstances have forced me to leave town and stay here for some weeks."

  Drew had not been in town long this Season, choosing to return to the country instead of facing his father at every ball and party, pointing out prospective wives he ought to court. His father and his determination to see him wed had been steadily getting worse, and so it was safer for Drew to remain away from the marriage mart in London and his father's matchmaking attempts. Not that it saved him in the end when he'd organized for Miss Landers to arrive at Sotherton to marry him there instead.

  A disastrous union if ever there was to be one.

  Had he known London would have had the pleasure of a princess this Season and one as beautiful as the woman who sat before him, he would never have left. He took his fill of her, her thin arms and slight shoulders. A small, golden ring sat around her little finger, an emblem of some kind upon its surface. She appeared taller than most women, a fact proven to him when she stood and went over to the fire, pulling the bell cord there. A footman entered within a moment, bowing.

  "You rang, Miss Holly?" he said, flicking a curious gaze toward Drew.

  "A pot of tea and some sandwiches, please. Thank you."

  The young lad bowed, leaving as quietly as he arrived. Drew watched the princess move back toward the desk. Her curves were all womanly and in proportion, her breasts a lovely handful. His mouth dried at the vision she made. Holy mother of God, she was devastatingly handsome. How had he not heard she was in London?

  Damn his friends for keeping her presence quiet.

  "And so I shall ask again, my lord. What are you doing here at Lord Bainbridge's estate? You were close to death, do you know? And arriving on my doorst
ep may have ended with you meeting that fate. You're a lucky man."

  Drew frowned, unsure what she meant, nor did he really think telling her he'd run away like a coward because his father wanted him to marry a woman made his washing up on her shore look any more gentleman like. If anything, it made him look like a fool in retrospect. "I apologize again for my arriving here unannounced, but from what I can remember of my accident, my boat broke up on the rocks north of the beach, and I was fortunate enough to float to shore on one of the broken planks of wood. I would never intentionally intrude at any estate that I had not been invited to, I assure you. But now that I'm here, I do have a question."

  She raised her perfect brow, her eyes steely and all too intelligent. There would be no fooling the woman before him. "What is that?"

  "Why leave the Season? You now know why I have arrived at your doorstep, but it is a mystery to me why you are hiding away here." She paled, leaning back in her chair, watching him as one would a snake about to strike. He did not wish to alarm her with his questions, but it was odd that she would be hiding away in the country all of a sudden after enjoying the Season with her friend.

  Why do such an odd thing? It made no sense.

  She sighed. "I suppose there is little harm in telling you why I am here, Lord Balhannah, but be warned, once you are aware, you will not be permitted to leave until it is safe for me to allow it. So if you really do wish to know, choose your answer correctly."

  It was Drew's turn to frown. Why would he be forced to stay? Odd behavior, not that it would be so very bad to be stuck at Lord Bainbridge's country estate with a princess as beautiful as the one who was before him. "Tell me the reason. I wish to know." Wish to know? He had to know. Nothing else mattered at that moment, not his father or his friends. Drew only knew that he had to hear from her why she was here. The thought of her being in some kind of trouble left his blood to boil. Was some gentleman trying to persuade her into marriage, or had they made advances unbecoming or unsuitable for a princess? Drew doubted there would be many advances she would accept. Whoever married the woman before him would be much higher placed in society than even he was. A duke, not a royal duke, would never have a look in.