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

by Gill, Tamara

  Damn it all to hell.

  "I was here in England to enjoy a Season in your society before returning to Atharia and taking up my role there. However, my uncle has decided that he enjoys being the regent king more and does not wish for me to return. Not unless it is only my body that returns and therefore laid to rest without causing any further trouble for him."

  Drew's blood ran cold. "Your uncle wants you dead? Why?" he asked, baffled. He'd heard of family disagreements, but this went beyond that twofold.

  "In two months, I'm of age to take the crown for myself. At one and twenty, I shall be the Queen of Atharia. My uncle does not wish this to occur. While in London, there was an attempt on my life. I fled to the country, and no one knows of my whereabouts, other than Lord Bainbridge. Your arrival here was suspicious, and now that you know my truth, you shall not be permitted to leave until I return to my homeland."

  "May I write to my father and inform him that I am well, if not tell him where I am? He will grow concerned if I do not."

  "Perhaps. I shall speak to my guards regarding your request, but if it's deemed too much of a risk, then no, you shall not."

  A light knock sounded on the door, and a footman entered, bringing a tray of sandwiches and steaming tea, two delicate cups with light-blue flowers on the silver tray. "Where would you like to take your repast, Miss Holly?"

  "Here, at the desk, if you will." The footman did as he was bade, setting down the tea tray and pouring two cups before bowing and leaving the room, the snick of the door as it closed loud in the quiet space.

  "I am sorry that you have fallen into my troubles, Lord Balhannah, but there is little to be done for it. In eight weeks, I shall sail for Atharia, and you shall be permitted to go on with your life." She picked up a cup. "How do you have your tea, my lord? With cream? Sugar?"

  "Cream, please," he said, taking the cup from her. Their fingers grazed. Heat pooled low in his gut. Her hands were delicate, but this Miss Holly, as she liked to be known, was no simpering miss. There was steel that ran through her back and blood, and she was all the more attractive to him for it.

  Not that he needed to lose his head over the woman. She was not for him. Too far above his status, but blast it all to hell, he would have liked the opportunity to court her, make her laugh, and have a little entertainment before she had fled London.

  "Thank you," he said, taking his tea and sitting back in his chair. "So, since we're to be stuck here at Lord Bainbridge's estate, what are we to do with ourselves?"

  "What do you mean?" she asked, sipping her tea.

  "I mean, what have you been doing to pass the time? Other than saving gentleman who wash up on your beaches, of course." He grinned, hoping she found amusement in his words. Not just the princess, but everyone at the estate seemed on edge. The berzerkers outside certainly appeared as if ready for a deadly battle at any moment. It was disconcerting to say the least, especially to a man like Drew. He'd always thought of himself as a gentleman who liked to play and have fun in life. Nothing too weighty to lay upon his shoulders.

  The woman before him was the opposite if he were any judge of character. Her life was nothing but rules and protocol, heavy responsibilities beyond owning a grand house, and having tenant farmers. She would be the ruler of a country. Its head of state—a massive weight on such slight shoulders.

  "I plan, and I wait, my lord. My time for frivolity ended when I fled London. Now I must turn toward my birthright and what that entails."

  A winsome look crossed her features before she blinked, and it was gone. "Do not expect your time here to be enjoyable, my lord. I think that a gentleman like you may find your time here odious in the extreme."

  "With you as my host, Miss Holly, I do think you're incorrect in your assumption. I cannot think of a place I'd rather be." Drew grinned at her, wanting to make her smile, smirk, a meager lifting of lips even would have sufficed.

  He gained none of those.

  Disdain was what he received. A hard woman certainly, but one he hoped would one day be his friend and look upon him as someone she could trust. That at least he could give her if he could not provide her with anything else. After all, he owed her his life.

  Chapter 4

  The following afternoon Holly stood at the library windows and watched with no small amount of amusement as Lord Balhannah was shown by one of her guards how to walk about the property and keep watch on those who may try to do her harm.

  Her guards had been well trained, and although Lord Balhannah would never be left on his own, to do so would not be wise. Should they be attacked by her uncle's henchmen, his lordship may be killed, and the last thing Holly needed was someone of the British aristocracy to be murdered on her time.

  The parts of the grounds his lordship was tasked to watch were out near the main entrance to the estate, a position that would not be used should her uncle find her. He was too smart to walk in through the front door. Oh no, he would try to hit at her while her back was turned.

  Holly sighed, walking over to the decanter of whisky and pouring herself a healthy portion. Her father's death of the year before had been hard, but the more she thought about his demise, the more she could not help but feel that it was not of a natural state.

  That her father had, in fact, been murdered by his younger, selfish, jealous sibling. That her uncle had shipped her off to England within months of laying her father to rest was of equal strangeness. Not that she had not wanted to remove herself from Atharia, a place that she loved with all her heart, but a home nonetheless that was depressing and sad after the death of its favorite king and father.

  Her time here in England was supposed to be three months, yet it was now almost six. Three in London and three here at Lord Bainbridge's estate after the attempt on her life that saw her flee. Never had she been so frightened in her life than the day she had been leaving her friend’s London ball, and an assailant had attacked her before everyone on the street.

  It was then that she realized her uncle never designed her to return to Atharia. That he intended her dead, and possibly her sisters, while he sat on the throne, a position he'd always been envious of.

  Well, she would not go down without a fight. Molly finished her drink, slamming the crystal glass on the sideboard. She needed to return to Atharia, without notice and certainly no fanfare and with an army of her own to take back what was hers.

  Her younger sisters—who could be alive or dead—depended on it.

  Panic threatened to assail her, and she walked over to the mantel, staring at the roaring fire burning in the grate. The first thing she needed to assail herself was men—a strong, loyal army who would fight for her rights and her life.

  Atharia was a small island off the coast of Italy. Independent of the European countries. Making landfall would be dangerous, and unless they did it under cover of darkness, they would be seen from miles out. Once there, she could rally an army to her cause. The people loved her, missed her, she believed. Her people would not let her down.

  Holly needed to use their love, their loyalty, and remove her uncle once and for all.

  He had to die. There was nothing left but that outcome.

  "Miss Holly?"

  She started, turned to see Lord Balhannah standing at the library door, a concerned look on his handsome face. And he was handsome, more so than she'd thought him originally when she first came upon him on the shore.

  Her men were dark, muscular gods, but Lord Balhannah was the opposite. Just as tall, although perhaps a little less athletic. He was all blond godlike deliciousness that made her heart stutter. An impossibility since she could never marry a man of his rank. As it was, her future was mapped out. Her father had hoped she could marry her Greek cousin of royal blood once she was crowned. Holly had been agreeable to this idea. She always had liked Prince Gustov. He was kind and would never try to push her from her role as queen, such as her uncle was trying to do. And yet, looking at Lord Balhannah, a future English duke, she could n
ot help but wonder what it would be like to choose someone whom she found attractive, liked, and if luck should have it, love.

  Lord Balhannah, with his long, dark eyelashes over the bluest eyes she'd ever beheld, certainly had her blood pumping faster. At almost one and twenty, she often wondered what it would be like to sleep with a man.

  "How old are you, my lord?" she asked, taking in his attire that was if not fashionable, at least clean and no longer torn. She could see the remnants of a gentleman beneath his workmen's clothing. The idea of what he would look like dressed for a state dinner made her stomach flutter.

  "I am five and twenty, Miss Holly." He cleared his throat, looking at someplace over her shoulder and not meeting her eyes. Curious man.

  "You cannot meet my gaze, my lord. Why?"

  His eyes widened and met hers, and a sense of his unease thrummed through her blood. Was he intimidated by her? It was a common issue when meeting anyone other than royal blood. They often were unsure of their status or if their presence was more out of necessity than pleasure.

  "I'm unsure why I cannot." He paused, a small frown between his eyes. "I suppose my only excuse is that you make me nervous. I'm also extremely uncomfortable calling you Miss Holly when I now know you to be a princess."

  "Miss Holly is used primarily to keep people at ease in my presence and for security reasons. It is an odd name, I grant you, but one that must be used. My uncle has spies everywhere, and should the smallest whisper reach him of my whereabouts, it would not end well. My brush with death in London was close enough. I do not wish to suffer that fate just yet."

  "That is what I'm here to see you about. I would like to offer you my services. I have trained at Gentleman Jackson's in London and know how to fight. Granted, I am not as muscular as the men who guard you, but I do know how to draw blood with a blade. My accuracy with a gun is indisputable. I would like to help you if you allow me."

  Holly narrowed her eyes, wondering at the suggestion. He was young, rich, and powerful in his own right. Why would he wish to place himself in danger to save a stranger's life? His guarding the gate was enough. He did not need to do anything further. "Why would you offer such a thing? We're not known to each other well. You owe me nothing."

  He threw her a half smile, and her mouth dried. Dear lord in heaven she would need to be careful with this man. He could make her forget herself and her status and merely think about all the ways she could allow him to kiss her.

  "You saved my life, do not forget, so not entirely without a debt to pay in return. But there is another reason I would like to remain by your side. A selfish one on my behalf."

  She raised her brow, curious to hear his reasons. A little part of her hoped it was because he liked what he saw and was man enough to say it to her face. No one ever did. No one ever stepped out of line with her and went against her will. Only Niccolo, and that was only ever because of safety reasons, nothing else.

  "Tell me the reason, my lord."

  He threw her a self-deprecating smile. "I suffer from a father who wishes me to marry a woman I do not love. She, in turn, is in love with someone else. A trip abroad, away from home and London, would be most useful at this time. To be in your service, my father would have no issue with it. In fact, knowing my sire, he would be most proud of my service to keep the future Queen of Atharia safe."

  Holly cleared her throat, unsure what to make of his lordship's words. As for his father, well, he seemed an interesting character. She walked over to her desk, wondering if Lord Balhannah spoke with such openness with everyone or if it were just an affliction he was saddled with after his near-drowning.

  "While I sympathize with you concerning your father's plans for your future, to be by my side, guard me against those who seek to do me harm will place you in equal danger. Maybe you require further deliberations before you choose such a fate."

  "Of course," he said, a rosy hue forming on his cheeks. The blush made him appear even more endearing and sweet than he had previously. "My father has a tendency to see the positive in any situation. If I were to be part of your entourage, he would be honored."

  "All of this is a moot point in any case, for if you're to travel with me, you cannot tell anyone of your whereabouts. You may notify your father that you will be going abroad, but nothing else."

  His lordship came farther into the room, looking about. "May I ask how your uncle hit at you while you were in London? You mentioned there has already been an attack on your welfare."

  Holly thought back to that night in London, where she enjoyed a ball at Lord Bainbridge's home. The evening had been going so well, the food and company were superb, the music played as beautifully as their own musicians played back in Atharia. But the arrival of Franco, her uncle's henchman or spy as she had always termed him, told her trouble was afoot. He had watched her the whole evening, simply stood to the side of the ballroom, and glowered at her as if she were doing something wrong. As if she were an annoyance that needed eliminating.

  It was only when she was leaving, climbing up in her carriage that she'd heard the hard footsteps from behind. The icy touch of the blade had cut her gown at her breast, where he threatened to thrust it upward and pierce her heart.

  However, Franco had misjudged Niccolo, her protector, and his years of fighting to remain alive in the Atharia army had taught him well. He'd moved with lightning speed, twisting Franco's arm and snapping it before Holly had the chance to turn and see who it was who attacked her. Without much noise, Niccolo walked the wailing Franco around a nearby darkened street corner and thrust the blade meant for her into the man's neck, letting him drop as if he were nothing more than an inconsequential piece of meat.

  A shocking event to witness, and a small part of Holly had been struck with fear at Niccolo's ability. He was deadly, and she could only be thankful that her father had given him the post of being her guard.

  "A man in London, one who worked for my uncle, tried to stab me after a ball. He was killed, and we left town that night, fearful of further attacks. So far, we've not been found, and nothing further has occurred, but we must always be cautious. I have weeks only until I am one and twenty and able to return to Atharia and take the crown. Nothing, I can assure you, will stop me from taking what is mine and serving my uncle some well-needed punishment."

  Lord Balhannah stared at her, clearly lost for words at her informing him of her troubles, of her plans. If he were to have the stomach to stay close to her side, protect her as her men did, then he would have to learn that her life was not like so many others of his acquaintance.

  Through the luck of birth, she had been born into royalty, and with that came responsibilities. Not just of houses and land, of tenant farmers and staff, but of a country, its people, the security and protection and wellbeing of everyone who lived under her care.

  Her uncle only sought to rip the country's riches away from the people and line his own greedy pockets. To take a crown that he was not ever meant to inherit. To steal her country and torment the people she loved.

  The fiend would not get away with his evil plan. She would die trying to repair the damage he'd caused and earn back the trust of the people of her land.

  "I would like to help in any way that I can. As a peer of the realm, maybe I could help you in gaining the assistance of the English parliament, or even the crown."

  "I have assistance from them both already. King George is my fourth cousin, twice removed. Even so, they can only help so far, and unfortunately, as they have informed us, they too do not know if there are more men in England like Franco. Lying in wait to strike. You being near my person will be dangerous, my lord. Are you sure you wish to embark on such a quest? You could return home after I leave, travel to London and see out the Season, perhaps even find a woman that you do find attractive and amusing to be around, marry."

  The idea of Lord Balhannah paying court to other women left a disturbing taste in her mouth. To see him pay attention to a particular woman, even a fa
celess one in Holly's musings, did little to calm her nerves.

  "I'm not looking to marry just yet, so traveling with you and ensuring you regain what has been taken from you is something that I wish to do. It would be an honor to serve you."

  Holly met his gaze and read the sincerity behind his decree. She nodded. "Thank you for your service, Lord Balhannah. I can only pray that I return you to England and your father without incident."

  He grinned. "Then it is settled."

  "It certainly seems so, my lord," she said, watching as he bowed and left. Holly sat on her chair, staring at the closed door he went through. She would need all the men she could gain if she were to take out her uncle. No doubt, the traitor would use Atharia's armed forces against her. She frowned. Unless she could gain their ear, talk them out of following a madman, and support the rightful heir.

  Her…

  The clock on the mantel clicked the hour, a mocking bell that reminded her of time and how much longer she had to wait before she made her move. Eight weeks to be exact, and then Atharia would be hers. Under her rule and protection.

  Chapter 5

  Drew heard the gunshot first, followed by men bellowing to each other. He climbed up the small bank that ran the edge of the lake the estate had, narrowing his eyes toward the house to see what was happening. The sight of the princess's men running for cover and aiming weapons in return to the shots fired off from the side of the house that faced the forest told Drew all he needed to know what was afoot. Fear churned in his gut at the thought of someone harming the woman who had hidden herself away from harm. No one deserved to be hunted and killed as it seemed her uncle was wont to do. How anyone could do such a thing to another living being was beyond him.