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Authors: Cheryl Holt

BOOK: Heart's Demand
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But his decree had no effect. The man firmed his grip and continued on.

They were headed toward the Nile. Was there a boat? Would he be whisked away? If the sails were raised, the oars at the ready, he might never see his sisters again.

“Kat! Kat!” he cried. “Mr. Blair! I need you! Where are you?”

He reached up and jabbed his thumb in the kidnapper’s eye. The man bellowed with outrage. Nicholas poked him again and wiggled away, and he ran—only to be seized by two others who’d been lurking in the shadows. They hurried him toward the river.

The camp was coming to life, Isabelle still screaming, people yelling. He kicked and wrestled, but couldn’t halt their forward progress.

Suddenly Mr. Blair appeared in front of them, blocking their route. The kidnappers pulled up short, glared at him, glared at each other. For a moment, all of them were frozen in place.

“Going somewhere gentlemen?” Mr. Blair casually asked. They didn’t reply, and he said, “You have something of mine. Release the boy.”

“Merde!”
one of the brigands cursed. In heavily-accented English he added, “If you would be so kind as to move out of the way, Monsieur? We are leaving and taking him with us.”

“I don’t think so,” Mr. Blair responded.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, he produced a pistol and a sword. He looked very calm, but very dangerous too, as if he wasn’t afraid of any hazard in the world. Nicholas realized he’d spent entirely too much time around his sisters, and females never understood the importance of knowing how to brawl.

He decided—after the incident was over—he would have Mr. Blair instruct him in battle skills. If Nicholas ever expected to protect himself and his sisters, he had to learn how to fight and win. He had to learn how to stand as Mr. Blair was standing and face down murderous adversaries without blinking an eye.

“I’m not scared of them, Mr. Blair.” He proudly exuded the same calm audacity.

“You shouldn’t be scared,” he agreed.

“I believe they’re trying to kidnap me.”

“Well, we won’t let them, will we?”

“No. I have no desire for them to succeed.”

“They haven’t a chance of succeeding,” Mr. Blair said, “and they won’t bother you much longer.”

Nicholas stared at Mr. Blair, wanting him to remember that Nicholas had been very brave, very steady in a crisis as his beloved father had trained him to be. His body weight went slack, the abrupt motion throwing the criminals off balance. As they struggled to subdue him, he raced away.

Behind him, he heard shouting and the crack of a pistol shot. Then swords clanged together. Nicholas flitted into the trees, recollecting that there was at least one other miscreant lurking, and he had no intention of being captured again.

He peeked down the path, and one of his attackers was lying on the ground, while the other was skirmishing with Mr. Blair. Nicholas wished he was courageous enough to barge into the middle of the fracas, but he had no weapon.

Mr. Blair didn’t need any assistance though. He dispatched the second brigand with very little trouble. The oaf emitted a loud woof, then joined his unconscious friend in the dirt.

Nicholas crept from his hiding place and called to Mr. Blair, “Are they dead?”

“I hope so,” he replied. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

Nicholas walked over, and though his knees were knocking, he feigned composure, as if he hadn’t been unnerved in the slightest. It was another lesson imparted by his father. A royal person never showed fear or alarm, and it was actually the first time Nicholas had had to practice the skill.

Mr. Blair leaned down and riffled through the men’s vests, but didn’t find anything.

“Do you know them?” he asked Nicholas.

“No. I’ve never seen them before. There was a third man too. He cut his way into the tent with a knife. We were headed to the river. They might have planned to abscond with me in a boat.”

Mr. Blair whipped around, and they peered out at the water. There had been a boat. It was skimming away, the sails just visible, so whoever had captained it, whoever the crew, they’d escaped.

Mr. Blair put his arm across Nicholas’s shoulders. No one was supposed to touch him so there had been few occasions when he’d been hugged in his life, and it felt very grand. At the moment, with his heart thundering like mad, he was safe and protected and very, very glad that Kat had hired Mr. Blair.

“You did really well, Nicholas.”

“Thank you.” He grinned. “So did you.”

“You were very tough, very calm in an emergency.”

Nicholas beamed at the praise. “My father always told me I need to be.”

“He was correct.”

“Will you teach me to fight?”

Mr. Blair snorted. “I doubt your sister would like it.”

“Yes, but she’s a female so I wouldn’t expect her to understand.”

“True.”

“When they carried me off, I hated being so helpless.”

“I know the sentiment. It’s the reason I developed my ability with a sword. I’ve been accosted numerous times in this dreadful country, and I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either.”

Mr. Blair studied him, then nodded. “We’ll begin tomorrow. Even if she disapproves, we’ll proceed anyway.”

“If she complains too much, I’ll simply order her to be silent.”

Mr. Blair seemed shocked by the admission. “Can you make her stop talking?”

“Oh yes,” Nicholas said. “She has to obey me.”

Nicholas had revealed a bit more than he should have about his station, about Kat’s station in regard to his. He spun, forcing himself to look at the men on the ground, forcing himself not to be sorry for them. And he most especially refused to fret over their fate like a silly, trembling child.

He’d been raised to be a king, and they had tried to harm him. The penalty had ended up being death, which meant they’d received the appropriate punishment.

Others rushed up then, servants and slaves, and more of the guards Monsieur Valois had sent with Mr. Blair and Mr. Hubbard.

“Take them away,” Mr. Blair said to a guard and to a servant, “Wake Mr. Webster. Inform him of what’s occurred. Ask what should be done with them. They have to be buried and probably the authorities notified, but I’m not certain of the protocols.”

The servant bowed and hustled off as others picked up the bodies and lugged them away. Again, Nicholas forced himself to watch, to stoically accept their violent demise. Then and there, he resolved—should he ever regain his throne—he would knight Mr. Blair for his brave daring on Nicholas’s behalf.

As the last man passed by them, Mr. Hubbard hastened over.

“I heard there was trouble,” he said to Mr. Blair. “What happened?”

Instead of answering, Mr. Blair asked, “Where were you? I thought you were guarding the tent.”

“Well…ah…”

Mr. Blair’s angry, disappointed glare had Mr. Hubbard stumbling to a halt.

“Don’t bother explaining,” Mr. Blair snapped. “I can’t listen to your excuses.”

“I just slipped away for a few minutes,” Mr. Hubbard claimed. “I never imagined there’d be mischief. You said yourself that it was unlikely.”

“Be silent, Chase! We’ll discuss it in the morning.”

Mr. Blair sounded regal and imperious, like the man Nicholas hoped to become someday. He put his arm across Nicholas’s shoulders again. “Let’s get you back to your sisters. I bet they’re worried sick.”

“Are they all right? Isabelle wasn’t hurt, was she?”

“They’re fine,” Mr. Blair told him.

They walked off, leaving a disgraced, inept Mr. Hubbard alone on the dark path.

CHAPTER TEN

“You can’t stay. Not another second.”

Kat glared at her uncle. She understood his fury, but couldn’t bear it. She was being kicked out by her only kin in the world. It was galling and depressing.

They were in Cedric’s tent, with her sitting and him pacing. He was livid, venting at Kat, and she was trying to remember that she was an unwanted guest, that he was an elder male relative, and she owed him deference and courtesy.

She was
trying
to remember, but was failing miserably.

“You’re making too much of this,” she claimed.

“In my view, I’m not making nearly enough,” Cedric huffed. “I told you not to leave Parthenia.”

“I never received your letter!”

“Someone obviously wants Nicholas back, and they’re so determined that they’d kidnap him.”

“There’s no proof they were specifically looking for him. They might have been slavers and not set on any particular boy.”

At voicing the comment, she shuddered with dread. Was it better to imagine they’d been slavers? Was it better to imagine it had been random rather than targeted?

Cedric scoffed. “Don’t talk to me as if I’m a fool, Katarina.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw the bodies of the two brigands. If they’re not from Parthenia, I’ll eat my hat.”

“But it’s insane to assume they’re from Parthenia. We were stripped of our titles and lands. We were cast out like vagabonds. Why force our return?”

“How would I know? Why don’t you save everyone an enormous amount of trouble and head home?”

“We don’t belong there,” she caustically retorted. “Not anymore.”

“Well, if you don’t belong there, you don’t belong anywhere.”

“No. That’s the problem.”

She peered down at her lap, exhausted that life had to be so hard. One day in her recent past, she’d been a rich, contented princess. The next, she’d been tossed away like garbage. Where was a princess supposed to go when she wasn’t a princess anymore? Where was a king supposed to go?

“I’ve written to Valois,” Cedric said.

“On what topic?”

“I’ve asked him to find you lodging in Cairo.”

“Thank you for consulting me first,” she tersely stated.

Cedric ignored the jibe. “I requested a property with gates and walls so you can be safer there than you were here.”

She recalled that the initial attack in Cairo had occurred directly outside Valois’s villa. No doubt she wouldn’t be safe, no matter where she put down roots, and she simply couldn’t fathom why they were having difficulties.

They hadn’t been welcome in Parthenia, so they’d left. It’s what the citizenry had appeared to want. Kat had accepted their fate, hadn’t fought or chastised. Why couldn’t people just let them be?

“When are we to leave?” she inquired.

“As soon as you’re packed.”

“You’re kicking us out. Is it what you truly desire? For I must tell you—if we depart—you’ll probably never see us again.”

“I certainly hope not.”

At his heartless reply, she gasped, and he recognized how cruel he’d sounded.

“I just mean—”

“I know what you
mean,
Uncle Cedric. You were very clear when we arrived. We are your nieces and your nephew. We are facing many obstacles, but you can’t be bothered to aid us.”

“It’s not that!” he hotly responded. “It’s dangerous for you here! There was a shooting in my camp! Two criminals were killed.”

“I realize that fact.”

“I’ve had Valois bribe the authorities so they don’t investigate, but we’re lucky Mr. Blair wasn’t arrested.”

She scowled. “He was defending my brother from kidnappers. Why would he have been detained for such a heroic act?”

“We’re foreigners, Katarina, in a foreign land. We don’t have any status or privileges. I shouldn’t have to explain our precarious situation to you.”

“He was protecting us!”

Cedric slammed his fist on his desk. “I won’t argue the point!”

Bryce must have heard them quarreling. He’d been waiting outside, and he poked his head in.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Everything is fine,” Cedric said.

Bryce flicked his cool gaze to Kat. “What is your opinion, Miss Webster? Is everything fine?”

“Yes, Mr. Blair, and we’re almost finished. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Katarina and the children will be sailing shortly for Cairo,” Cedric told him. “Monsieur Valois is renting lodging for them in the city.”

Bryce looked at Kat, a thousand comments flitting between them, but they would never have a conversation in front of Cedric.

“I’m sure that’s wise,” Bryce ultimately said.

“I’m sure it is too,” Cedric agreed, “for she’s not safe in the desert with me.”

“Is that what you want, Miss Webster?” Bryce asked her.

She wondered how to answer. He was such a marvelous champion. If she demanded to stay, would he refuse to let Cedric throw her out?

But she wouldn’t push the issue. Her uncle was eager to evict her, and she’d learned a bitter lesson in Parthenia. When her presence was blatantly unpalatable, she wouldn’t beg to remain.

“It’s best if we leave,” she murmured. “I’ll fill you in on the details in a moment.”

He slipped out, and she knew he’d be close by. Nicholas and Isabelle were with him too, playing where he could observe them. He was determined to keep them in his sight at all times. It was obvious the other guards—most especially Chase Hubbard—couldn’t be trusted.

Cedric riffled through a stack of papers and pulled out an envelope.

“You received a letter,” he informed her.

She blanched with shock. “
I
received a letter? Who knows I am here?”

“From the markings on the front, it’s easy to see who’s written.”

He handed it to her, and her shock intensified. It was from the royal court, the King’s seal stamped on it.

She ripped it open and, on reading Kristof’s signature, she nearly fell out of her chair. He was ordering her home, ordering her to bring Nicholas and Isabelle too.

She was furious and aggrieved. During her frantic journey south, he must have had spies following her. They must have been tracking her movements and filing reports.

The attacks on Kat and Nicholas must have been orchestrated by Kristof. Evidently his minions were desperate to retrieve them by any method necessary, and considering the force they’d employed, Kristof must have told them rough treatment would be allowed without consequence.

Kat was humiliated all over again, but frightened too. The threat to Nicholas suddenly reared up. She remembered the whispered warning from her father’s friend, the man’s insistence that she take Nicholas and go.

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