Defending the Duchess

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “Of course,” Julia agreed, and tried to make her words sound sincere. “I feel so honored to have a title. A small crowd is probably best.” The last thing she wanted to do was give Monica any more reason for concern. Linus and the guards had everything under control. She had to trust that, and focus on getting through dinner without letting on to her sister all that was wrong.

  Peter bounded into the room as she spoke. King Thaddeus entered on the heels of his son, followed by his sisters the princesses and Prince Alec and all their fiancés. Isabelle and Anastasia hovered near, gushing about the invitation and how lovely the ceremony would be. Julia nodded, reminding herself that she hadn’t expected anything, certainly not something as prominent as the title of duchess.

  She should be happy.

  But the cold fear knotted inside her would not be tamped down, no matter how many times she forced a smile to her lips. The royals, at least, seemed too excited by their plans to notice the tremor in her voice when she spoke, or to spot the tremble of fear in her hands.

  It was Linus who leaped forward to pull out her chair while everyone else was being seated. Linus must have seen the effort it took for her to look happy, because he whispered in her ear as he slid the heavy chair smoothly toward the table. “Scott’s in surgery. Everything is going to be okay. You’re doing great.”

  They weren’t fancy words. But they were the words she needed to hear. Bolstered by his reassurances and the hope that Scott would survive to share what he’d learned, she found the strength to make it, smiling, through the meal without letting on to her sister just how horribly everything in her world was falling apart.

  * * *

  Linus studied the photographs the forensic team had taken of the burned documents Sam had saved. The burned pages themselves were sealed in a box lined with cotton wool, the individual wisps of blackened paper separated by tissue paper, though Linus couldn’t imagine they’d be any more legible that way than in the pictures that had been taken before they’d been moved from the hotel room.

  Even magnified several times, the printed words were nearly the same color as the burned paper and almost impossible to make out.

  But it was all they had to go on. And the fact that the man who’d shot Scott had taken the time to light the papers on fire meant their contents must be important.

  Scott Gordon had spent the night in surgery. As of that morning, he had yet to wake up. The last Linus had heard, they didn’t know if he would wake up.

  Scott had lost a great deal of blood and coded twice on the table, though they’d managed to bring him back both times. Even if he awakened, he might not remember anything of what he’d been going to tell them.

  So the pages on the table were their best hope for sorting out what Scott had known. Until they figured that out, they couldn’t know why Julia also had been targeted. And until they knew why she’d been targeted, she wouldn’t be perfectly safe.

  “Knock knock,” a female voice chanted from the doorway.

  Linus recognized the voice, but he still felt a foolish grin rise to his lips when he turned to see Julia enter, her hair pulled up in a casual ponytail, her T-shirt and shorts reminiscent of what she’d worn the first night he’d saved her, the sneakers on her feet the same that had scuffled in the sand with the footprints of her attacker.

  “Come on in.” He tried to wipe the grin off his face. When that failed, he looked down at the pages spread on the table, as though he could focus on their contents with Julia standing beside him, smelling fresh and flowery, a bright contrast to the photographs of blackened paper.

  She stood in silence for a time, surveying the charred documents before speaking. “Have we learned anything?”

  “Scott Gordon wears a size thirteen shoe.” He glanced up, and her face held his gaze.

  Relief filled her features. “He didn’t attack me on the beach that night.”

  “He didn’t.” Linus nodded firmly. “But we don’t know who did.”

  “The same guy who shot him?”

  Linus had already watched the footage shot by the helicopter’s on-board camera. “It’s quite possible. The figure appeared to be roughly the same size as Scott. He also had a driver in the car waiting for him. From the brief image the helicopter camera captured when the men ran into the market, the driver was also of similar build. Either of them could have been the man who attacked you on the beach.”

  “We don’t know anything more about them?”

  “They’re not afraid to shoot.” Linus offered her the conclusions he’d reached. “And they don’t want anyone to read these papers.”

  Julia absorbed the news by letting out a long, slow breath, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Do you think it’s foolish for me to agree to have the titling ceremony on Sunday?”

  Linus had been pondering the same question ever since Queen Monica had revealed the plan to her sister. He’d resigned himself to a few conclusions. “From what I can tell, these guys, whoever they might be, are trying to keep a lid on something. They killed Pendleton to keep him quiet. They tried to destroy these papers because they’re afraid of what the contents reveal. When Scott resisted their attempts to take him with them, they shot him. I get the sense they’re trying to cover up something. If that’s the case, they’re not going to show their faces at a large public gathering, especially not with all the photographers who will be present.”

  Julia nodded along as though she agreed with everything he’d said. “They haven’t come after me here at the palace yet. They seem to recognize that the walls and guards and security cameras would make it tough to get to me. They’ve only ever come after me when I’ve stepped out.”

  “The titling ceremony will take place in the throne room, with a reception in the ballroom immediately following. You won’t be leaving the palace. The royal guard will be on hand in full force, and Jason has already talked to the Lydian army about providing additional men on site.”

  “You’d think if these guys wanted to try to reach me inside the palace, they’d avoid showing up on the one day when there’s so much extra security.”

  Linus agreed. “The only advantage I could see from their standpoint would be the added crowd of people. They might hope to blend in with everyone else.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Julia acknowledged, planting her hands on the edge of the table as though she needed the added support. “Monica was going to make sure the newspapers carried a notice of increased security along with the announcement of the ceremony. Hopefully that will be enough to deter them.”

  “The most important thing is that you feel safe.” Linus placed a hand on her shoulder.

  She let go of the table and looked up at him. It wasn’t until she straightened to her full height that he realized how close together they were standing. Her eyes glistened with appreciation as they met his. “You make me feel safe.”

  Linus couldn’t speak. The duchess was so close to him, her face mere inches from his. Her lips hovered so near. It wouldn’t take anything at all to kiss her.

  “That’s—” he struggled to find words and pulled his hand from her shoulder “—that’s the most important thing.”

  “We also need to keep my sister from feeling any additional stress. She tries not to show it, but she’s hurting somehow. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I don’t think it’s an emotional toll. She seems quite happy when she’s with Thaddeus, and of course with Peter, too. Do you suppose she’s ill?”

  “It’s possible. When she insisted on moving up your titling ceremony, I wondered—” Linus clamped his mouth shut, fearing he’d said too much.

  “You wondered what?”

  “Just that it almost seems as if she wants to get the titling ceremony over with to make way for something else.”

  “Something else?”

  “I can’t
say what.” Linus immediately felt foolish for even bringing it up, and struggled to make sense of the incoherent sense he’d gotten from the scheduling change. “I just know that the palace administration has gone to great lengths to keep all the events and upcoming royal weddings separate. They’re strategic about when they schedule things and when they announce them, so they don’t step on anyone’s toes.”

  “You think my sister wants to get my titling ceremony out of the way, so she doesn’t step on my toes with an announcement?” Julia’s words were soft, not accusational.

  “It’s possible.”

  “It’s more than possible. It fits. I just hope whatever it is she wants to announce, that it’s something good. I hope she’s not sick.”

  * * *

  Julia gripped the side of the table once more, needing something to lean on. She hated to think that Monica might be ill, but she didn’t know how else to explain her sister’s pallor or her thinning figure. Monica had always dealt well with stress, so even the stress of becoming queen and moving to Lydia shouldn’t have had such a negative effect on her.

  An illness was the most logical answer. What hurt Julia even more, though, was that her sister had yet to tell her what it was. Growing up, they’d always shared their secrets. If Monica had something important to share, she must have a good reason for not wanting to tell Julia. But what was it?

  Linus pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  Julia realized he must have picked up on how unsteady she felt. She sat as instructed and noticed the coffee on warm at the kitchenette in the corner. “I’d take some of that coffee.”

  “With milk?”

  She smiled up at him. “You know how I like it.”

  Moments later he handed her a steaming cup, and she gripped it, grateful for the warmth that spread up her fingers and the kindness of Linus’s gesture. She turned to the enlarged photographs of charred paper spread out on the table before her.

  But Linus didn’t seem eager to discuss them just yet. “You’ve been quite concerned about your sister’s well-being—even more so than your own, it seems to me.”

  Julia sipped the warm beverage, then sighed. “I owe it to Monica after all she’s been through. Not just the kidnapping earlier this summer, but everything. We never knew she’d snuck off and married Thaddeus six years ago. When we realized she was pregnant, we waited for her to tell us the whole story.” Julia studied the swirl of milk that spread into the darker brown of her coffee.

  “She never did?” Linus asked gently.

  “Never. And instead of pressing for an answer, we just got used to not knowing.”

  “Don’t feel bad. You did what you thought was best.”

  Julia understood his words, but she couldn’t accept them. “Her husband went into hiding for the sake of this kingdom. We should have been there for her, but we didn’t know. I thought it was best to give her space, but looking back, I’m afraid I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I regret that. I only wish I knew how to make up for it.”

  “From what I understand, she couldn’t have told you anyway. Thaddeus told her not to tell anyone anything. Doing so would have endangered her and Peter, even you and your parents.”

  Julia looked up at the handsome guard and studied his face for some time. His expression was earnest, intent. She knew he spoke the truth, but she couldn’t shake the guilt she felt. “I still feel as though I should have done something more.”

  “You can’t go back and change the past.”

  A small smile crept to her lips. “You’ve said that before, in one way or another.”

  “It’s true,” he said, then blew out a frustrated huff of air. “You’re not the only one blaming yourself for not stopping the events that happened in June. The whole royal guard has some level of survivor’s guilt, Jason worst of all. He thinks he should have been able to stop the ambush and keep the royal family from ever being attacked in the first place.”

  “But if he’d done that, Thaddeus never would have come out of hiding. Monica wouldn’t be queen, and I’d have never been to Lydia. I’d have never met you.”

  Linus met her eyes again. He opened his mouth, unspoken words on his lips. Then he cleared his throat. “That’s true. And I wouldn’t have these burnt papers to examine.”

  Julia welcomed the change of subject. She hadn’t meant to bring up her feelings for the guard, knowing as she did that nothing could come of them. “What have you learned from the papers?”

  Linus stood and leaned over the images. “The pages that were on the bottom of the pile are copies of newspaper reports. Nearly all of them cover the failures of the engine Pendleton designed.”

  “The one he tried to sell to Motormech?”

  “Precisely. Most of the failures resulted in accidents that caused only injuries. But after a few of those reports came out, Seattle Electronics had two engineers test the SE323 to prove it was safe. Balfour and Chen.”

  “The two who died when the engine malfunctioned?”

  “Exactly. It wasn’t safe.”

  Julia studied the reports, some of which had been burned around the edges, though the bulk of the articles were still legible, and she could fill in the gaps based on what bits were still legible. If she’d thought it important, she could always look up the articles again. But she didn’t see how the articles related to the attacks against her, or Pendleton’s death.

  “Do you suppose someone was upset with Pendleton for designing a faulty engine? Did they kill him for revenge?”

  “It’s possible,” Linus said as he blew out a frustrated breath, “but then why replace the design pages in your file drawer?”

  “To cover up their motive?”

  “You’re right about covering up a motive. They said something to Scott about being a scapegoat. But that still doesn’t tell us who pulled the trigger. It doesn’t help us keep you safe in the future.”

  Julia sighed, feeling at a loss. “What about the top pages that suffered the worst burns? It would seem to me Scott would have put the most important evidence at the forefront.”

  “It’s hard to make out any words, but I’ve spotted Motormech a couple of times.”

  “The company that tried to buy Fletcher’s design? But that was two years ago—why would Motormech still be relevant?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that same question. But what did Scott say to you on the phone last night about the break-in at your office? That’s when the Seattle Electronics vs. Pendleton file was disturbed.”

  Julia nodded along slowly. “Scott’s fingerprints were on that file, and his copy code was used that night.” Unable to sit still, Julia rose and paced the room, setting the scene and filling in the gaps as best she could. “Scott was at the office the night of the break-in. Two men came and asked to be let into my office. Scott used the key in Joan’s credenza cabinet to let them in. He thought he was helping.” She turned in her pacing and looked at Linus to see if he agreed with what she’d worked out so far.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and picked up the thread of the story. “They had the altered design pages—the ones that were different from Fletcher’s original design.” His eyes snapped up and met hers. “The design he emailed you. Your laptop.”

  “We haven’t checked it yet! In all this excitement, I forgot about it. It wasn’t in my room last night.”

  “The guards were supposed to secure it. The guys who were on shift worked late last night with everything that was going on. I’m not sure who’s here—”

  “It can wait another moment,” Julia assured him. “Let’s not lose track of Scott’s story. The two men wanted to replace the pages in the design file. Furthermore, I can guess why they wanted Scott to make the copies.”

  “To get his fingerprints all over them, so he co
uld be their scapegoat?” Linus used the same term Scott had given over the phone.

  “That too.” Julia nodded. “And also so the paper type would match what was in my file folder. They didn’t want me to realize what they’d done.”

  “So they asked Scott to make the copies for them. He thought he was being helpful.” Linus repeated the explanation Scott had given.

  “But at some point he must have become suspicious, because they threatened him.”

  “His fingerprints were all over the papers.”

  “He’s a lawyer, he knows how evidence works.”

  “He was scared.” Linus recalled what Scott had said, then made a conclusive jump forward. “But afterward, he decided to follow up on what these guys were up to. Maybe to cover his own trail if they ever tried to pin anything on him. So he did some searching.”

  “At some point, they must have realized he was on to them.”

  “And that’s what led them to you,” Linus concluded. “They knew they needed to tie up all their loose ends before Scott blew the whistle on them.”

  Julia felt a cold shiver run up her spine at his words. “But, who are they? Why do they care about the engine design in my file cabinet?”

  “I think it’s time we take a look at your laptop.”

  “I agree.”

  Julia followed him down the hall in search of the device, praying desperately that they’d be able to find it, that it would still contain the file...and most importantly, that they’d finally get some answers.

  TWELVE

  “Please, Lord, please,” Julia whispered as she scrolled through a list of old saved files she’d pulled up from the hard drive.

  As Linus watched, praying silently along with her, she selected a file to open.

  The file must have been large, because it took the computer a few long moments to retrieve it. Julia’s hands rose above the keys, balled with tension, and Linus reached over her shoulders to cup her fingers in his.