Castles (12 page)

Alesandra didn't realize until the performance was over that Colin had fallen asleep. She turned to ask him if he had enjoyed the opera as much as she had, but just as she was about to speak, he started to snore. She almost laughed. It took all she had to keep her expression composed. The opera really had been dreadful, and in her heart she wished she could have slept through the ordeal. She would never admit such a thing to Colin, however, for the simple reason that she knew he would gloat.

She nudged him hard with her elbow. Colin came awake with a start.

“You really are impossible,” she told him in a whisper.

He gave her a sleepy-eyed grin. “I like to think I am.”

It simply wasn't possible to offend him. She gave up trying. She stood up, took hold of her cloak, and turned to leave the box. Colin followed her.

There was a crush of people in the foyer below. Most were waiting to get a closer look at her. Alesandra found herself surrounded by gentlemen begging an introduction. She lost Colin in the shuffle, and when she finally located him again, she saw he was surrounded by ladies. One, a gaudy redheaded woman with exposed bosoms down to her knees, was hanging on Colin's arm. The woman kept licking her upper lip, and Alesandra was reminded of a hungry alley cat that had just spotted a bowl of cream.

Colin appeared to be the woman's snack. Alesandra tried to pay attention to what was being said to her by a gentleman who'd introduced himself as the Earl of something or other, but her gaze kept returning to Colin. He looked very happy with all the attention he was getting, and for some strange reason that notice infuriated Alesandra.

It hit her all at once, this unreasonable burst of jealousy. And, Lord, it was the most horrible feeling. She simply couldn't stand to see the woman's hand on Colin's arm.

She was more disgusted with herself than with Colin. Since the moment she'd arrived in England, she'd been trying to behave the way she thought a princess should behave. The mother superior's two sainted words,
dignity
and
decorum
echoed in her mind. Alesandra remembered the nun's warning to avoid spontaneous actions. She'd pointed out over ten examples of trouble that had resulted because of her spur-of-the-moment ideas.

Alesandra let out a sigh. She guessed marching over to Colin's side and ripping that horrible woman's hand off his arm would qualify as a spontaneous action. Further, she knew the gossip tomorrow would make her sorry for her action.

It felt as though the foyer was closing in on her. No one appeared to be in a hurry to leave. More and more people crowded into the tiny area to see who was there and to be seen.

She desperately needed fresh air. She excused herself from the gentleman requesting an audience with her by giving him permission to send her a note, then slowly made her way through the throng of people to the front doors.

She didn't care if Colin followed her or not. She went outside. She paused on the front step, took a deep breath of the not-so-fresh city air, and put on her cloak. Colin's carriage was directly below her. Raymond spotted her right away. He jumped down from his perch, where he'd been waiting with the driver.

Alesandra lifted the hem of her gown and started down the steps. Someone grabbed hold of her arm. She thought it was Colin finally catching up with her. His grip stung. She tried to pull her arm away, then turned to tell him to lessen his hold.

It wasn't Colin. The stranger holding on to her was dressed in black from head to foot. He wore a cap that covered most of his brow. She could barely see his face.

“Let go of me,” she commanded.

“You must come home with us now, Princess Alesandra.”

A chill settled around her heart. The man had spoken to her in the language of her father's homeland. She understood what was happening then. She tried not to panic. She pulled back and tried to run, but she was captured by another man from behind. He was hurting her with his fierce hold. Alesandra was suddenly too furious to think about the pain. With his friend's assistance, the man started to drag her back toward the side of the building. A third man appeared out of the shadows of the stone columns in front of the opera house and ran down the steps to stop Raymond from interfering. Her guard was charging up the steps to protect her. Raymond landed the first punch, but the man he'd struck only staggered backward. Then he lashed out at her guard with something sharp. Alesandra saw the blood spurting down the side of Raymond's face and started screaming.

A hand clamped down over her mouth, cutting off the sound. She bit her attacker as hard as she could. He let out a howl of pain while he shifted his hold on her.

He was strangling her now. He kept telling her to quit her struggles or he would have to hurt her.

Alesandra was terrified. She couldn't breathe. She kept up her struggle, determined to get away from the horrible men and run to Raymond. She had to help him. He could be bleeding to death, and, dear God, this was all her fault. She should have listened to Raymond when he insisted the general's men would come after her. She should have stayed home . . . she should have . . .

She heard Colin before she saw him. A roar of fury unlike anything she'd ever heard before sounded in the darkness. The man anchoring her from behind was suddenly ripped away from her and tossed headfirst into one of the stone pillars. He collapsed to the ground like a discarded apple core.

Alesandra was coughing and gasping for air. The stranger holding on to her arm tried to pull her in front of him to use as a shield against Colin. He wouldn't allow that. He moved so quickly, Alesandra didn't have time to help. Colin's fist slammed into the man's face. Her attacker's cap went flying in one direction, and he went flying down the steps. He landed with a thud at Raymond's feet. Alesandra's guard was fully occupied circling his adversary, his concentration totally centered on the gleaming knife he held in his hand.

Colin moved in from behind. The man turned to lash out at him. Colin kicked the blade out of his hand, moved forward again, and grabbed hold of his arm. He twisted it into an unnatural position. The bone snapped, and that horrid sound was followed by a scream of pain. Colin was not finished with his victim, however. He shoved him headfirst into the back of the carriage.

Alesandra came running down the steps. She used the handkerchief from the bodice of her gown to stem the flow of blood pouring from the deep cut in Raymond's right cheek.

Colin didn't know if there were others ready to strike or not, and in his mind Alesandra wasn't going to be safe until she was home.

“Get inside the carriage, Alesandra. Now.”

His voice was harsh with anger. She thought he was furious with her. She hurried to do as he commanded, but tried to take Raymond with her. She put his arm around her shoulder, braced herself for his weight, and whispered for him to lean on her.

“I'll be all right, Princess,” Raymond told her. “Get inside. It isn't safe for you here.”

Colin pulled her away from the guard. He half lifted, half tossed her into the carriage, then turned to help Raymond.

If the guard had been in any condition to look after Alesandra, Colin would have stayed behind to get some answers out of the bastards who'd dared to touch her. Raymond had lost quite a bit of blood, however, and now looked close to collapse.

Colin let out a low expletive, then got inside. The driver immediately whistled the horses into a full trot.

Alesandra sat next to the guard. “I don't understand why no one helped us,” she whispered. “Couldn't they see we were in trouble?”

“You were the only one outside, Princess,” Raymond answered. He slumped into the corner of the carriage. “It happened too fast. Why wasn't your escort with you?”

Raymond turned his head to glare at Colin when he asked his question. The handkerchief he held to his cheek was turning bright red. He adjusted the cloth against the cut, then turned to look at her.

She folded her hands together in her lap and lowered her gaze. “This is all my fault,” she said. “I was impatient and there was such a crowd inside. I wanted some fresh air. I should have waited.”

“Damn right you should have waited.”

“Please don't be angry with me, Colin.”

“Where the hell was Hillman?”

“The earl you introduced me to before you left me?”

“I didn't leave you,” he muttered. “Hillman was introducing you to some of his friends and I turned my back for one minute to say hello to a couple of business associates. Damn it, Alesandra, if you wanted to leave why didn't you tell Hillman to come and get me?”

“Nothing will be served by raising your voice to me. I accept full responsibility for what happened.”

She turned to her guard. “Raymond, can you ever forgive me? I should have stayed home. I put you in danger . . .”

Colin interrupted. “You don't have to hide behind lock and key, Alesandra. You just shouldn't have gone outside without me.”

“They would have attacked even if you'd been with me,” she countered.

He gave her a speculative look. “Start explaining,” he ordered.

“I will explain when you quit shouting at me.”

He hadn't been shouting, but she was obviously too upset to notice. She'd taken her white gloves off. He watched as she folded the pair into a square and turned back to Raymond. She ordered Raymond to use the gloves for his bandage now that the handkerchief was saturated with blood.

“Damn it, Alesandra, you could have been hurt.”

“And so could you, Colin,” she responded. “Raymond needs a physician.”

“I'll send Flannaghan over to fetch Winters as soon as we get home.”

“Is Winters your personal physician?”

“Yes. Alesandra, did you know the men who attacked?”

“No,” she answered. “At least, not by name. I know where they came from, though.”

“They're fanatics,” Raymond interjected.

Alesandra couldn't bear to look at Colin's frown. She leaned back against the cushion of the seat and closed her eyes. “The men are from my homeland. They want to take me back.”

“For what purpose?”

“To marry their bastard general,” Raymond answered. “Begging your pardon, Princess, for using that word in your presence, but Ivan is a bastard to be sure.”

Colin had to wait to ask additional questions because they'd reached his town house. He wouldn't let Alesandra leave the safety of the carriage until he had the front door opened and had shouted for Stefan. Stefan came outside to assist Raymond, and Colin took hold of Alesandra.

A good hour was spent seeing to Raymond's care. Colin's physician lived just three blocks away and was thankfully home for the evening. Flannaghan brought him back in Colin's carriage.

Sir Winters was a white-haired man with brown eyes, a gentle voice, and an efficient matter.

He believed thugs were responsible for the attack. No one set him straight on that misconception.

“It isn't safe to go anywhere in London anymore, what with the mob of ruffians roaming the streets. Something has got to be done, and soon, before every decent man and woman is killed.”

The physician stood in the center of the foyer, his hand on Raymond's jaw as he studied the damage done to his cheek and lamented the condition of London's streets.

Colin suggested Raymond sit at the dining room table. Flannaghan carried in extra candles so the physician would have enough light.

The cut was cleaned with a foul-smelling liquid, then stitched together with black thread. Raymond never once flinched during the painful ordeal. Alesandra flinched for him. She sat next to the guard, and when Winters applied the needle to his flesh, she reached over and took hold of Raymond's hand.

Colin stood in the doorway, watching. His attention was centered on Alesandra. He could see how upset she was. There were tears in her eyes and her shoulders were shaking. Colin fought the urge to go and comfort her.

Alesandra was such a gentle, compassionate woman, and Colin could well see her vulnerability, too. She was whispering something to the guard but he couldn't make out the words. He walked forward, then came to an abrupt stop when he understood what she was saying.

Alesandra was giving her promise that nothing further would happen to the guard. Ivan, she said, would not make such a terrible husband, after all. She told the guard she'd given the matter considerable consideration and had decided to return to her homeland.

Raymond didn't look too happy with her promises. Colin was furious. “You will not decide anything tonight, Alesandra,” he commanded.

She turned to look up at him. The anger in his voice surprised her. Why did he care what she decided?

“Yes, Princess,” Raymond said, drawing her attention. “Tomorrow will be soon enough to decide what should be done.”

Alesandra pretended agreement. She had already made up her mind, however. She wasn't going to let anyone else get hurt because of her. Until tonight she hadn't realized the lengths the general's supporters would go to in order to accomplish their goal. And if Colin hadn't intervened, Raymond might have been killed.

Colin could have been injured, too. Oh, yes, she had made up her mind on the matter.

Winters finished his work, gave instructions, and then took his leave. Colin poured Raymond a goblet full of brandy. The guard downed the contents in one long swallow.

As soon as Raymond went upstairs to bed, Flannaghan took over his nightly ritual of checking all the locks on the windows and doors to make certain the house was secure.

Alesandra tried to go to her bedroom, but Colin intercepted her just as she was reaching for her doorknob. He took hold of her hand and pulled her along with him back to the study. He didn't say a word to her, just nudged her inside and then pulled the door closed behind him.