Winning the Queen's Heart: Contemporary Christian Romance (The Brides of Belles Montagnes Book 2) (34 page)

“I had a flat tire. I had no idea Alexander would come by, much less that his security team would change it for me. We talked. I had to remind him how he knew me. That’s it.”

A text message came in on her phone. Despite the ability to get a phone call, texts still went through. Christiana looked at it.
She’s suing for support. There’s no truth to any of it. Calling a press conference in twenty minutes. Will you be there?

Alexander needed her support. If she believed the stories were not true, he deserved it. But she had to ask. “If Alexander is not the father of your son, why are you suing him for back support?” Her phone buzzed again.

Where are you? You didn’t take your guards.

“I’m not. I know who Alex’s father is, and I’m lucky if I get a couple hundred bucks a year from him.”

“Will you say that at the press conference?”

“Of course.” Julia grabbed her purse. “When and where?”

Christiana tapped a text back to Alexander.
See you in ten.

“Alex! We have to go!” Julia slid her feet into a pair of tennis shoes. “He’s named for my grandfather.”

Christiana nodded. “I understand.”

Alex ran out of the back room. “Can we see the palace?”

“I will show you some of it.”

“No. You won’t.”

Christiana froze at the familiar voice. She closed her eyes, breathed a prayer, and turned, hoping against hope she was wrong.

She was not.

There, gun in hand, stood her uncle.

Chapter 35

Alexander took a deep breath and waited. He paced and waited. He stopped himself from running his hand through his hair and waited. He glared at Christopher and waited. “Do you know where she is?” he finally asked Tony. Again.

“No, sir. She left the residence without telling anyone where she was going.”

“She’s not in the garden?”

“No, sir.”

“Do we have her statement?” He could hear the reporters getting restless. If they waited too much longer, they’d just be mad. And that wouldn’t be good for getting them on their side. He knew some of the major news organizations in the States had stationed reporters in the area after the wedding. This would be all over the news back home.

Charlyn held up the folder. “Right here.”

He took it from her and before they could stop him, walked into the press room. The buzz picked up before quieting down as he took his place behind the bank of microphones. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will read a statement from my wife, make a statement of my own, and perhaps take a question or two.” He cleared his throat and opened the folders. “My wife, Her Majesty Queen Christiana, regrets her inability to be here, but as you all know, this pregnancy has been quite difficult on her, though she has been doing much better lately. The stress of today has precluded her from being here for the moment. She says, ‘I stand by my husband. He has never given me any reason to doubt his fidelity, and I do not doubt it now. The allegations brought against him are false, and I look forward to his full vindication.’”

Alexander took a deep breath and flipped the page. “My sentiments echo those of my wife. I have not in the recent or distant past had any sort of relationship with Ms. Quisenberry, other than that of classmates and acquaintances in college. I am not the father of her son, nor am I the father of her child if she is indeed pregnant. I do not know why these accusations have been made, but I guarantee they are false. I look forward to clearing my name. We are requesting DNA testing as soon as possible.” Did he want to do this? He knew he had no choice. To refuse to answer questions would implicate him in the press and in the court of public opinion. “I will take a few questions.”

The cacophony of voices shouting at him overwhelmed him until he pointed at Matt Markinson. The man had proven to be a friendly, completely honest journalist. He wouldn’t sugar coat, but he wouldn’t blow up a scandal where there was none.

“If there is no relationship between you and this woman, how do you explain the photo from Wednesday? What about their stay on palace grounds last night?”

Alexander launched into an explanation about the flat tire. “It was never my decision to stop. Honestly, I didn’t even see her vehicle until after the motorcade halted. I was working in the back of my car and am glad my men are looking out for others besides myself. Ms. Quisenberry and I talked for about an hour. I didn’t remember her at first, but once she reminded me of the project we worked on together my junior year of college, we reminisced, and she caught me up on some mutual friends.

“As for their accommodations last night, I would have offered them to any number of old friends and not her specifically. As for the photo in the papers this morning, I have no idea who took it, but that is under investigation. I took my wife back to our apartments, went to consult with the head of security about some other matters, and decided to check in on them. At no time was I ever alone with her.” The photo didn’t show his security officer less than four feet away. “I was inside the cottage for about five minutes to show her how to find a room hidden behind a bookcase so her son could find it this morning.”

He called on a woman from a local television station. “For the moment, let’s consider what you’re saying to be true...”

“It is,” Alexander interrupted.

She gave a half-eye roll his way. Not the first time she’d heard that from a guy caught cheating on his wife, he supposed. Though in his case it really was true. “Let’s say what you’re saying is true. What motivation does this woman have for making the accusations? A comparison of blood types
could
prove your case very quickly or a DNA test in just a bit more time. So why would she make false claims?”

“I honestly have no idea. I am hoping we can sit down, probably with our lawyers, and figure this out. The
only
reason I’ve come up with is some sort of blackmail or wanting money, but though I didn’t know her well, that doesn’t strike me as the kind of thing she’d do.”

He started to call on another reporter, but the back door banged open.

There, chased by guards, stood Alex. Covered in blood. Panting. Terrified.

Alexander shook himself out of his shock and bolted toward the boy. “What is it?”

He tried to catch his breath. “Mom. Shot. Queen.”

Tony leaned over. “Your mom shot the queen?”

Alex shook his head, his hand pressed into his side.

“The queen shot your mom?”

Another shake. “Man. Shot mom. Chased queen.”

Alexander turned to see Tony’s eyes go as wide as his own. He grabbed Tony’s walkie talkie, knowing the man could get another one and took off, sprinting toward the cottage. He heard Tony trying to get more information out of the kid. There wasn’t time.

He pounded through hallways and bolted out a side door, wishing the whole time for his sneakers instead of dress shoes. The door to the cottage stood open, and he slowed as he neared it. His fingers itched to pull his pocket pistol out, but he waited. A cry sounded, but it wasn’t Christiana.

Entering carefully, he saw Julia lying on the ground, covered in blood and crying out. He hurried to her side and spoke into the walkie. “Julia down in the cottage.” Setting it on the ground, he reached for her head. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” She grimaced and whimpered. “It hurts, but most of the blood is from where I cut my head.” He moved her hand away from her arm. “He just grazed me with the bullet.”

The angry red wound didn’t look life threatening and while the gash in her forehead would need stitches it wasn’t either. “Where’d they go?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Christiana did some stuff to that wall,” She nodded toward the large stone fireplace. “It opened up.”

“What did she do?”

Julia told him as best she could remember. Pushing a stone here, shifting the thing that holds the poker there, pulling down on the sconce on the side. With a groan, the wall began to move. As it opened, Alexander snatched the walkie talkie. “Tell them I’ve turned my sound down but will report in when I can. Tell them how to open it but to stay back.”

She nodded and laid her head back on the floor.

Taking a deep breath and praying hard, Alexander walked into the dark.

* * *

Seventeen steps until it veers right.

All the hours Christiana spent exploring as a teen on school breaks and later as essentially a queen-in-exile in her own backyard were paying off. For fun, she would see how far she could get without turning on her flashlight. The one she left in the nook she now clutched in her hand, but she refused to turn it on.

Why, oh why, had she slipped out without her security guards? Yes, they were smothering. They had good reason to be. The man chasing her could not have asked to find her in a better, more vulnerable, position.

Except he had not known about this tunnel.

Nine steps to three stairs down.

She could hear him behind her. Yelling for her. Her head start was not nearly enough, but she knew of no way to make the wall close faster than it did. And she knew he did not know about this tunnel nor where it led. If she could make it to the end...was there time? Should she hide in the alcove and pray he did not find her?

How much further to the hidden door?

Twenty-three steps to the three stairs up, sloping but straight for another fifteen then hard left.

She moved as quickly as she could, but his voice came ever closer. At step twelve, she slowed, not wanting to run into the wall.

"Why couldn't you just go along with it? Let me convince everyone you were crazy. Take over the throne. Run things the way I saw fit." His voice echoed through the tunnel. "Your grandfather took my inheritance! I deserve this!"

What was he talking about?

Just a bit further.

A few more feet, and she would reach the end. In her head, Christiana walked through the steps to open the other wall. She would not have much time. It closed less slowly than the other door but not quickly enough given the footsteps nearing her. He did not have to catch up to her before she reached it. She only needed to be slowed down long enough for him to grab her ankle as she climbed out.

She pressed one indentation on the wall, followed by another, then a third. With a groan, it started to move.

"After everything I did to insinuate myself into your family. After all my hard work, you had to mess everything up. You and that meddling husband of yours. He's next, you know."

Alexander could take care of himself. She knew that. The second the door opened enough for her to squeeze through, Christiana did.

Now the hard part.

She put her foot on one of the slight footholds and reached up. From the outside, it appeared to be a basement window well at the end of an alley, covered over with stone many years earlier.

Could she still hoist herself up?

"I see you!"

She had no choice. Crying to God for strength, she straightened her arms and pulled herself to street level.

Now to get away. He lunged for her but she swung her legs up in time and stood so she could run down the alley as fast as she dared. If she could make it to the square, she would be safe.

She turned the corner and skidded to a stop.

When had the black metal gate been put in?

And how would she get over it?

* * *

Alexander walked as quickly as he could until the wall swung shut behind him. He could hear Henry’s voice up ahead but couldn’t make out the words. Deciding he was far enough back, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight. It allowed him to move much more quickly, though he still tried not to make any noise.

Did Christiana have a light? Henry couldn’t have her yet, or he wouldn’t be yelling, his words reverberating back to Alexander. The voice grew louder, the words more distinct. Something about her grandfather stealing his birthright?

A groaning sound slid through the tunnel. Another door? Around the sharp right turn ahead, he could see light. A little cry from Christiana spurred him forward.

He rounded the corner to see her foot disappear over a wall. Her uncle scrambled after her. Alexander picked up his pace. He’d never figure out how to open that door again. Before he could slide through the opening, the other man was gone. Alexander made it just as the door slid shut.

Back in the open, he pulled the walkie out. Over the top of the wall, he saw her uncle disappear around a corner. Hoisting himself up easily, he put the walkie to his mouth, turning the sound up just enough to hear.

“Tony?”

“Where are you?”

“The tunnel comes out near the square.” He thought that was where they were. Rounding the corner he saw his suspicion was correct. The black metal gate hung open, leading into the plaza. “Christiana made it out and was ahead of him.” Tony started barking orders even before he severed the connection.