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Defending the Duchess

Page 3

by Rachelle Mccalla


  Over the scent of the sea and the closed shops and eateries they now passed, Julia caught a whiff of manly scent—something wild and strong and oddly soothing. She breathed in again, more slowly this time and felt her fears ebb away. She was in good hands. Linus was watching out for her. Whatever was going on, whoever had attacked her, Linus and his fellow guards would sort it out. The guards had kept the Lydian royal family safe against awful foes earlier that summer.

  They’d see her through this mess, too.

  “Almost there,” Linus gasped his way up the last ridge to the palace gates.

  Glad as she was to be safely back at the palace, Julia felt a distinct swirl of disappointment. Now she’d have to discuss the details of the attack. By rights, she’d have to tell them everything about her fears back home, even if that ended up having nothing to do with tonight’s attack. She’d only been practicing law for a couple of years, but that was plenty long enough to understand the problems one could get into from withholding pertinent information.

  And she’d have to let go of Linus. She told herself that should be a relief, but as he lowered her to standing, still propped against him to keep the weight off her injured leg while they waited for the pedestrian gate to open, Julia wished she had an excuse to press her cheek to his shoulder again.

  Silly. Absurd, really. But it had been so comforting to be close to him.

  Linus helped her hop through the door, and a pair of guards hurried over from the guardhouse, quickly forming a human chair with their arms, carrying her sling-style across the lawn.

  “To the palace?” one of the guards asked.

  “No.” Julia started.

  “To the guardhouse,” Linus explained. “She doesn’t want the queen to be worried.”

  Whatever the other guards thought of her request, they kept their mouths shut and delivered her inside with a minimum of fuss, planting her on a modern sofa in the front waiting area while one of them fetched a first-aid kit. For the first time, Julia was able to get a look at the injury in decent light, and was relieved to find only a nasty scrape and some bruising—painful, but nothing that required a hospital visit.

  Linus stood facing the corner, speaking earnestly into his earpiece, scowling. Julia couldn’t make out his words, but from what she could see of his face in profile, he didn’t look happy.

  “They didn’t catch him?” she asked when Linus ended the transmission and turned toward her.

  He shook his head regretfully.

  Julia looked down at her leg. One of the other guards dabbed with gauze at the bleeding parts, cleaning it with gloved hands.

  When she looked back up at Linus, she saw the front of his pale blue button-down royal guard shirt rising and falling as he pulled in deep breaths. She sensed his repressed frustration that the shadowy figure had evaded them.

  She also guessed that as soon as he caught his breath, he’d want to know everything she could tell him about the man who’d attacked her. If she’d had answers or understood the man’s reference to a file, she’d have gladly shared those details. The little bit she knew only made her shiver with greater fear. She wasn’t looking forward to reliving those few terrified moments, but worse yet, she didn’t want to confess who she feared it might have been.

  * * *

  When Linus looked back at Julia, her attention was focused on Jason Selini, the head of the royal guard, who’d come in from off duty in response to the attack, and now knelt at the duchess’s side, bandaging the scrape on her leg.

  Linus watched her in puzzlement for a moment, wondering. He hated that she’d been attacked while under his guard. Worse still, he couldn’t help wondering why she’d purposely escaped from the palace without him—and if her reasons might be related to her attack.

  “Do you need anything?” he asked when she looked up. “A drink? Something to eat?”

  “I am a little thirsty.”

  Linus listed drink options, and Sam, another of the guards, went to fetch them both some juice. With just the three of them in the room, Linus hoped Julia wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed. If it had been up to him, they’d be inside the palace and she’d have her sister at her side to comfort her, but Julia had been adamant about not alarming the new queen.

  He crouched alongside Jason so that he could look up at the duchess. He didn’t need her feeling lectured or looked down upon. “We need to find out everything we can about the man who attacked you this evening.” Linus tried to make his low voice less imposing. “What can you tell us about him?”

  “I couldn’t see him. It was dark.”

  “You didn’t recognize anything about him?”

  “Should I have? You fought him. What did you notice?”

  Linus swallowed. “He’s about six-two, one-eighty. Trained fighter.”

  Julia shuddered. “Why would a trained fighter attack me?”

  Linus watched Julia’s face carefully. He’d always been adept at reading people—far more adept than at reading words in books. Now he watched her eyes dart between their faces before she glanced down. She felt ashamed and was weighing her next words.

  The door burst open, and more guards poured in.

  Julia’s eyes widened at the activity.

  Linus sensed there was more Julia wanted to say, but she clearly wasn’t going to open up in front of so many people. He leaned toward Jason and murmured quietly, “She knows something.”

  “About her attacker?” Jason whispered back.

  The duchess watched the men pour into the room discussing what they’d found on the beach—footprints and sure signs of their scuffle. She looked overwhelmed.

  And Linus knew the commotion wouldn’t die down anytime soon. The members of the royal guard had always taken their charge to protect the crown very seriously. If possible, they were even more zealous about their duties since the attacks that had threatened the royal family two months before. The attack on Julia was bigger than any threat to the royal family since the crown had been restored with the coronation of King Thaddeus and Queen Monica.

  As control central for such events, the royal guard headquarters would be far too distracting a place to hold such a sensitive conversation.

  Linus looked back to Jason. “Where can I talk to her?”

  Jason looked thoughtful, and Linus could guess what he was thinking. The interrogation room was meant to intimidate, not set a frightened female at ease. In fact, the whole royal guard headquarters was set up for tough men to do hard work. There wasn’t a room in the building where the duchess might feel at ease enough to open up about her attacker and the fear that haunted her eyes.

  “Take her back to the palace.” Jason cleared his throat and addressed the duchess. “I understand you don’t want your sister to know about the attack,” he conceded. “We don’t have to tell her yet this evening. Linus can escort you back to the palace and avoid your sister, but he’s going to need to ask you some questions about the attacks. And we’ll have to brief the king and queen tomorrow. Will that be okay?”

  Julia wrapped her arms around her shoulders as she nodded, blinking back tears. Yes, the events of the evening were catching up to her. Linus feared he might not learn much tonight.

  Frustrating. Still, he’d do his best.

  “Want to try walking on it?” he asked as Julia placed her feet on the floor and braced herself to stand.

  She nodded and eased herself slowly to standing. He felt a moment’s triumph at the small victory, but when she tried to shuffle forward a step, she winced.

  He swooped in beside her and she took his arm, leaning on him slightly for support.

  “I can do it,” she whispered.

  “You don’t have to. We can find a wheelchair—”

  “I can do it.” Julia grimaced and leaned heavily on his arm as she made her way forward
, growing more certain with each step.

  Much as Linus appreciated the woman’s determination, he wished she’d relent to letting him carry her. It would be so much faster that way, and she wouldn’t have to risk straining her injury.

  They made it more than halfway across the lawn toward a back entrance to the palace when the duchess stopped to catch her breath.

  Linus had been waiting for an opening. He needed to ask her questions. Given the way she insisted on tiring herself out, he feared that once they reached the palace, she’d be too exhausted to talk about the attacks and close the door in his face. Then he’d never learn what doubts had clouded her eyes.

  He cleared his throat. “You probably want to forget all about what happened this evening, but before you do that, I need to know everything you were able to observe about your attacker, any clues you might have that would help us identify him.”

  “I couldn’t see him in the darkness. He was wearing a mask.”

  “I know,” Linus acknowledged, thinking quickly. He’d already been briefed about the queen’s little sister before he was assigned to guard her, so he knew a few things about her background, and could guess how that might get in her way. “You’re a lawyer, right?”

  “A trial lawyer.”

  Having testified in court before about work-related cases, Linus knew about her line of work. “In court, you have to know things with certainty and be convinced of guilt or innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

  “Yes.” She spoke the word slowly as she looked up at him through the misty moonlight. Obviously she had to wonder where he was going with his line of reasoning.

  “Right now I need the opposite from you. I know you can’t say with any certainty who attacked you, but I want to know your hunches, your gut instincts, your fears. Anything you might have picked up on that would give us a clue about this guy.” Linus watched her carefully as he spoke. Even in the moonlight, he could see enough of her face to tell that his own hunch had been correct.

  She knew something.

  He just had to convince her that it was okay to tell him what it was.

  “It’s not anything.” Julia shook her head dismissively.

  Still, Linus felt hopeful. The woman had enough of a grasp on what she knew to discredit it. That meant she could likely put it into words if he could persuade her that it would be acceptable to do so—even if that went directly against her usual practice as a trial lawyer. He waited patiently.

  “Back home,” she started softly, then pinched her eyes shut. She clearly felt foolish uttering the words out loud.

  “Back home?” Linus repeated, prompting her.

  “Seattle,” she clarified. “Seven thousand miles from here.” She huffed a tiny laugh. “Who would be crazy enough to follow me halfway around the world?”

  She spoke so softly Linus had to strain to hear her. And yet, as her words sank in, he felt a distinct chill. Had the duchess been threatened even before she left home? If she hadn’t been the victim of a random attack, she could be targeted again. Especially if her attacker had already traveled so far to get his hands on her.

  “Tell me what you suspect,” he prompted softly.

  “He said something.” She shook her head slightly, but her eyes had met his. “I couldn’t have heard him correctly.”

  “Tell me what you think you heard.” He locked on her gaze and held her attention, focusing on imparting a sense of trust, of safety, of acceptance. “The smallest clue can be important,” he assured her as doubt rose in her eyes.

  She almost smiled then, resignedly, and opened her mouth.

  Then a small electronic sound cut through the silent night.

  “My phone!” Julia pulled back from him and reached for a small zippered pocket on her shorts. “I have a text.”

  Linus felt his hopes deflate. Whatever Julia had been going to tell him, she wasn’t likely to speak up now.

  Important as it seemed, his concern about her confession dimmed the moment Julia read the message on her phone.

  “Oh, my—” she covered her mouth with one hand, looked up at him with terrified eyes, and whispered past her fingers “—no.”

  THREE

  Did you get what I sent you?

  Julia stared at the words, trembling, not just because of the message they implied, but because of the sender.

  “What is it?” Linus had been propping her up, and now leaned nearer, the injuries to his face more painful-looking up close.

  Julia pinched her eyes shut against the sight.

  Linus lifted her hand and read the message on the screen of her phone. “What?” He repeated. “Did you get something?”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly. “I didn’t get anything. I don’t know what it means.”

  “Julia.” Linus spoke softly, his touch soothing as he propped her up. “Talk to me. I saw your reaction. This message frightened you. Why?”

  “Did you get what I sent you,” she repeated, praying the worlds didn’t mean what she feared they meant. “What does that mean?”

  “A delivery of some sort? A package?”

  “Or a surprise visitor.” She didn’t want to believe the attack and the message were related, and yet...

  “Your attacker?” Linus took the phone from her trembling hand. “Who’s the sender? Who is this Fletcher Pendleton?”

  “It’s complicated.” Julia tried to straighten out her thoughts. What was the best way to explain?

  “Let’s get inside.” Linus scooped his arm around her waist again, lifting her up to her toes as he guided her toward one of the rear doors of the palace. “Then I need you to tell me.”

  Emotionally drained, Julia leaned on Linus as he guided her inside, grateful for his steady arm to lean on and his apt understanding of the situation. They needed to get inside before her sister noticed her hobbling across the courtyard and came to check on her. More than that, they needed to sort out what was going on. Had Fletcher sent the thug who’d attacked her on the beach?

  She hated to think he’d do such a thing. And yet, given his antics of late, she could almost believe he had.

  Linus settled Julia onto a wood-inlaid fainting couch in one of the palace receiving rooms. The cozy parlor was near the rear of the palace and appeared to be seldom used, so they weren’t likely to be interrupted. Besides that, it was close to the door, so she didn’t have to hobble very far to reach it.

  “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” The muscular guard, his injuries still untended, looked at her earnestly. Julia couldn’t imagine how he could be so concerned about her comfort while his own eyebrow continued to leak blood at a slow trickle.

  Linus swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, his gaze never wavering from her face.

  Julia felt a spear of guilt. She wanted to fetch a first-aid kit or at the very least a cube of ice for his swollen lip. The man had done so much to protect her, and now seemed determined to get the sofa pillows arranged around her in the optimum position to ease the pressure on her leg. Were all the royal guards so perfectly sweet and attentive? Julia couldn’t recall a time when she’d felt so pampered.

  “Now.” Linus plunked an ottoman beside the fainting couch and sat, meeting her eyes. “Fletcher Pendleton?”

  “He’s an engineer. He’s brilliant. Probably going to be a millionaire. Or he was.” She realized her initial assessment of the man was now grossly out of date.

  “How do you know him?”

  Julia sighed and thought back in time. It had been one of her first cases as a lawyer. She’d been so eager to do everything right, so earnest, so thorough. In spite of the many cases she’d dealt with since, that one stood out in her mind.

  “Fletcher Pendleton created an ultra-efficient engine design for cars. But he was working
for a small automotive company at the time, a branch of a successful tech company, Seattle Electronics. Since he was working for Seattle Electronics when he designed the engine for them, they held the patent for his design, but then Motormech Industries tried to buy the design from him.”

  “They can’t do that—not if the company doesn’t want to sell.” Linus scowled.

  Julia was glad the guard understood. “Precisely. I handled the case. It was very straightforward. We settled out of court. Fletcher Pendleton turned over all his design materials to Seattle Electronics. Motormech stepped away from the deal. Seattle Electronics retained ownership of the design and the car went into limited production as the SE323. That was after I was involved. I’ve only been practicing law for two years, but since then I’ve been busy with other cases and I didn’t pay any attention to what Seattle Electronics was doing.”

  “What was Seattle Electronics doing?” he asked in a whisper when she fell silent.

  “Making cars. But there was a flaw in the design. The SE323 malfunctioned and overheated at high speeds. There were accidents—people were injured, and a couple of Seattle Electronics’s employees died testing a car. Seattle Electronics was sued by several different parties.” As she stated the simple facts, she looked around at the elegantly decorated parlor, anywhere but at Linus and the injuries he’d received from helping her. His eyes were too kind, his face too ruggedly handsome. She was afraid she might start staring.

  “Did you handle any of those cases?”

  “No. But since I’d handled the original case, I paid attention whenever I saw their names in the news. Last I heard, Seattle Electronics had filed for bankruptcy protection.”

  “And Fletcher Pendleton?”

  Julia felt an uneasy swirl in her stomach at the mention of the man’s name. “That’s the strange part. I worked with him briefly when I represented the case. Didn’t hear from him for nearly two years after that. Then out of the blue I got an email from him asking if he could meet me somewhere.”

 

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