Gail Whitiker

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by No Role for a Gentleman

‘My men informed me that you sent a trunk full of clothes to a waiting coach.’ Softening his voice to a low murmur, he released her arm. ‘Now why would you do that?’

  ‘They’re for Anna,’ she lied, rubbing the bruised skin. ‘The men were supposed to put the trunk with her belongings. That’s all.’ Tears spilled over her cheeks, as she stared down at the carpet.

  ‘Do you think I don’t see your defiance? I know everything you do. And you’re going nowhere.’

  His fist struck the back of her head, and stars exploded in her vision. The king knew exactly where to punish her so that it would not leave a visible mark. ‘My men have their orders. You won’t leave the palace.’

  Why does he hate me so? she wondered. What have I done? Never had he laid a hand upon Anna, thank God. But for whatever reason, she infuriated her father. And she feared that if he lost control of his temper one day, she might not survive it.

  Darkness swam in her vision, and she backed away, folding her body inwards as if to protect it. As the king advanced toward her, Serena let out a broken supplication, ‘Please, Father.’

  But her words meant nothing to him as he curled his fingers and raised his fists.

  * * *

  Serena lay with her body pressed against the carpet. Though her father had left, she couldn’t bring herself to move. Her hand touched the tender skin at her throat, the pulsing fear returning. She tasted blood in her mouth, and pain radiated throughout her body.

  It only renewed her resolve to leave. I won’t stay here. I can’t. The door opened, and she saw the stricken faces of her ladies. Serena said nothing, but allowed Katarina to help her to her feet. The woman picked up the fallen rose with its crushed petals and held it to her.

  Though not a word was spoken, she was certain they’d heard her father’s tirade. Serena accepted the rose and leaned upon Katarina as she entered the hallway.

  ‘Your Highness?’ Katarina asked, her voice fearful. Her maid stopped walking and reached for a fallen lock of Serena’s hair, pinning it back into place. In her lady-in-waiting’s eyes, Serena saw the worry. But she could say nothing to reassure them.

  ‘I am going to see my mother,’ she insisted. One last time, before I leave. Her ladies surrounded her and led the way.

  As she walked, Serena rested her hand against her bruised side, fighting to calm herself. Though not every servant was loyal to her, there were enough men and women to turn a blind eye to her escape. She believed she could get out of the palace with little trouble. The true problem was reaching the hunting lodge before the other guards caught up to her. They had no choice but to follow and bring her home again.

  When they finally arrived at her mother’s chambers and her presence was announced, Serena tried to smile.

  Queen Clara was propped up with several pillows, her light brown hair streaked with grey. She wore a cap and a white nightgown, but the pale linen only accentuated her wan face.

  ‘How are you feeling today, Mother?’ Serena asked, handing her the rose.

  Clara took it and smiled, before she waved her hand, dismissing the ladies. ‘Come and sit beside me.’

  When the queen took her hand, her expression turned grim. Slowly, she reached out and touched Serena’s reddened throat. ‘What happened?’ Her hand traced the marks, as if the caress could take away the pain.

  A hard ball of fear rose up in her throat and Serena forced back the denial. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she could only lift her shoulders in a shrug. ‘I’ve...tried to be better. More like the princess he wants me to be. But he seems to hate the very air I breathe.’

  Clara closed her eyes, her hands gripping the coverlet. ‘Your lady-in-waiting, Katarina, confessed this morning that your father has...taken your punishments too far at times. And she said you’re planning to leave.’

  Serena masked her frustration. It was her secret to keep—not theirs to tell.

  ‘You should have told me about this,’ her mother insisted, her face rigid. ‘I thought he only...hit you once in a while. I thought it was discipline.’ A tear slid down the queen’s face. ‘But Katarina said he broke your ribs.’ Her mother’s eyes stared hard at her, as if trying to determine if it was true. Serena dropped her gaze, unwilling to answer.

  ‘Why would you hide this from me? I could have done something to help you.’

  ‘And what would you have done?’ Serena demanded. ‘You’re ill. If you tried to fight him, he would have taken his anger out on you. I’m strong,’ she whispered. ‘You’re not.’

  ‘I know it, but surely—’

  ‘Don’t try to stop me from leaving,’ Serena warned. ‘I...I need this time to decide what to do, Mother.’

  The queen’s shoulders lowered in defeat. ‘You’ll be married this summer,’ she reminded her. ‘And after that happens, your husband will keep you safe.’

  Serena didn’t believe it, though she nodded to her mother as if she did. Clara reached out and took her hand. She hid her dismay at how fragile her mother’s knuckles were, how pale the skin.

  ‘Take the next fortnight at our estate in Oberalstadt, if you need some time to recover. If your father returns and asks where you are, I’ll tell him I sent you to visit my relatives.’ Her mother tried to smile. ‘And when you return, I’ll do what I can to protect you from his temper.’ Her gaze shifted over to the wardrobe that contained her day dresses. ‘Perhaps I’ll be strong enough to speak to him myself.’

  Serena doubted if her mother could do anything, but she demurred. ‘I love you, liebe Mutter.’

  The queen reached up and touched her cheek. ‘I’m sorry for being so weak. If I had more strength...’ Her voice trailed off with unspoken words.

  Serena lowered her strength. ‘You’ll be fine.’ And so will I. She kissed her mother’s cheek and squeezed her hands, praying that she would see her again one day.

  After she left, she passed the tall windows that lined the east wing. As a young girl, she’d sometimes raced her sister down the hall, while sunlight spilled through the large panes of glass. Now, she walked at a more dignified pace, as befitted a princess.

  Raindrops spattered down the windows, but even the wretched weather couldn’t destroy the bottled up hope inside of her. Freedom lay just within her grasp.

  She returned to her chamber, waiting for her father and Anna to depart for Sardinia. Anna would be presented to the widowed king as a possible candidate for his new wife.

  When Serena glanced in her looking glass, she saw the redness surrounding her throat. Without asking for permission, her lady-in-waiting Katarina brought out a lace fichu and drew it around Serena’s neck to cover the skin. ‘Does it hurt, Your Highness?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ But when Serena stared at herself in the looking glass, her face was pale, her green eyes rimmed with red. Despite all of her careful plans, she couldn’t repress her shiver. Her father might have killed her this afternoon.

  She touched the back of her head, and the barest pressure sent a wave of pain within the skin. Katarina dampened a cloth from the washing basin and sponged at her hair to remove the traces of blood. Though her lady was gentle, Serena closed her eyes at the pain.

  Soon you’ll be gone from here. And he’ll never hurt you again. She clung to the thought, taking comfort from it.

  ‘The coach is waiting in the forest,’ Katarina whispered beneath her breath. Before she could say another word, there was a knock at the door. When Serena

  nodded for Katarina to answer it, her lady-in-waiting announced, ‘Your Highness, the Princess Anna is here to bid you farewell.’

  Anna entered with three of her ladies trailing behind, and Serena went to embrace her. Her sister wore a rose taffeta travelling gown with seven flounces and a silk bonnet with a matching rose ribbon. A dark woollen cloak was tied around her shoulders. She held her gloved hands together, worry creasing her smile.

  ‘I’ll miss you,’ Serena told Anna. It was true. Despite her desperate need to escape, she would think of her mother and
sister often. Perhaps one day she could send for Anna, or make arrangements to come and visit her after her sister was married. But the tangled sadness in her heart wouldn’t soften. She was afraid of never seeing them again, and it hurt to imagine the loneliness.

  Anna appeared worried. ‘I know that...a royal marriage is expected of me. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid. What do I know of the king of Sardinia?’

  ‘You’ll be fine. And the weather will be much warmer.’ She braved a smile, but Anna didn’t answer it.

  ‘I still don’t understand why you’d want to leave for a holiday alone.’ A worried expression pulled at her sister’s mouth. ‘With only a few servants?’ Anna pressed her hands together. ‘How can you manage? You need at least seven ladies, simply to get dressed in the morning. Fifty would be a more appropriate number.’

  Serena only smiled. ‘I want a quiet holiday, not an army surrounding me.’ Besides, she’d sent word for the caretaker to assemble a household of servants within the hunting lodge. It was far easier to make an escape with six servants, rather than fifty.

  Anna would have none of it. In a whisper, she added, ‘You shouldn’t defy our father. What you’re planning will only make him angrier.’

  Her sister reached out and touched the fichu at Serena’s throat. The knowing look in her eyes made her wonder if Anna suspected the punishments she’d endured. Had someone told her?

  ‘The king will never know I’m gone.’ Serena stepped back, adjusting the fichu to hide her reddened skin. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘You can’t go off on your own,’ Anna insisted. ‘Someone might try to kidnap you or worse.’

  ‘It’s only meant to be a short holiday. By the time you return from Sardinia, I’ll already be home. No one need ever know of it.’ The falsehood rolled easily off her tongue, and she pretended as if it wouldn’t matter at all. She could only pray they wouldn’t find her.

  ‘But why would you go to Hamburg?’ Her sister looked as if she’d suggested living in a beggar’s cottage. ‘We haven’t gone there in years. And there’s nothing at all to do. Except...catch fish.’ Anna wrinkled her nose with disgust.

  Serena didn’t answer, but merely hugged her sister again. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  A tightness rose in her chest at the thought of leaving Anna, but when her sister squeezed back, she fought back the shadow of pain from her bruised ribs. A flash of fear came over her, remembering her father’s beating.

  You don’t have a choice, she reminded herself. You have to go.

  ‘I’ll return in a few weeks,’ Anna promised. ‘And hopefully the king of Sardinia will choose someone else. You’re fortunate that the fürst of Lohenberg will be your husband. At least he’s quite handsome.’

  There was an enigmatic look in her sister’s eyes, as if she wanted to say something else. Instead, Anna drew back and said a final farewell.

  After her sister had gone, Serena ordered her ladies to help her change into a navy blue woollen travelling gown and a dark cloak. She raised the hood over her hair and covered her gown with the voluminous fabric.

  ‘Shall I come with you to the lodge, Your Highness?’ Katarina asked, her voice fearful.

  Serena shook her head. ‘You’d only be punished. If you stay here, you’ll be safe.’ She’d arranged for a coachman, footman and four guards to accompany her.

  Katarina pressed her forehead to Serena’s hand in a deep curtsy. ‘As Your Highness wishes.’

  ‘Go back to my father’s library. The guards I hired are standing outside the doors. Bring them to me.’

  But her lady-in-waiting hesitated a moment. One by one, her other ladies surrounded her, and Serena saw the worry in their eyes. Then Katarina spoke, ‘Your Highness, you must know that...we would do anything to protect you. What you’ve endured from His Majesty—’ Her lady bowed her head and flushed with embarrassment. ‘It’s so very wrong. And though there are servants loyal to him, rest assured, we will help you to leave, as best we can.’

  Serena looked at the faces of her ladies. These women had been with her for years, and they were so much a part of her life, she hadn’t thought of how lonely it would be without them. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘There was a...problem with your coach,’ Katarina said, biting her lip. ‘The footman, Herr Henley, will explain, but—’

  ‘We haven’t much time,’ one of the other ladies interrupted. ‘I’ll go and fetch the guards.’ With a curtsy, the young woman departed.

  Serena turned back to Katarina. ‘What problem?’

  Katarina shrugged. ‘Just something unexpected. Your sister, Princess Anna, arranged it.’ With that, Serena relaxed. Anna would do nothing to interfere with her plans.

  * * *

  A quarter of an hour later, the men arrived. Among them was Gerlach Feldmann, captain of her father’s guards. He looked uneasy about the journey, but of all the guards, she trusted him the most. He’d assembled men to help her, at great risk to himself.

  Serena bid her ladies farewell, and raised her hood to hide her hair. The guards led her through the scullery maids’ quarters, to avoid notice.

  Throughout each twisting corridor, her lungs tightened with fear. Although her ladies and many of the servants would not betray her, she doubted if every servant could say the same.

  When they reached the grounds outside the palace, Serena ran through the rain, clutching her cloak around her. Her lungs burned with exertion as she fled into the wooded grounds just beyond the gates.

  She never looked back. With a surge of energy, she raced as fast as she dared toward the coach that awaited her. It would take a full day to reach her grandfather’s lodge, but that didn’t matter. She would savour each mile that took her far away from the palace. No one would stop her now.

  ‘Your Highness,’ the footman, Herr Henley, interrupted. ‘There is something you should know.’

  Serena lifted her hand to dismiss him. ‘Tell me once I’m inside the coach.’

  The rain was pouring down, soaking through her hood and cloak. The waiting footman opened the door for her, and she let him assist her within. She sank down upon the cushioned seat, lowering her hood.

  Then she stared in shock at the prince who was seated inside the coach, directly across from her.

  NO ROLE FOR A GENTLEMAN

  ISBN: 9781460315705

  Copyright © 2013 by Gail Whitiker

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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