lot of hostility toward me because I had worked with the DeAngelis royal family before the revolution,” he went on. “I wasn’t trusted then as I am now. I tried to fight him, but it was soon apparent I had no one on my side.” He drew in a deep breath. “I was sent on a business trip to Paris. He made his move while I was gone.”
“Father…”
“You see, I had no power.” His face, already pale, took on a haggard look. “I couldn’t refuse to go. And once I was gone, he forced her to go to his quarters.”
Pellea gasped, shivering as though an icy blast had swept into the room.
“She tried to run away, but he had the guard drag her into his chamber and lock her in. And there, while she was waiting, she found a knife and killed herself before he could…” His voice trailed off.
Pellea’s hands clutched her throat. “You always told me she died during an influenza epidemic,” she choked out. She was overwhelmed with this news, and yet, deep down, she’d always known there was something she wasn’t being told.
He nodded. “That was what I told you. That was what I told everyone. And there was an epidemic at the time. But she didn’t die of influenza. She died of shame.”
Pellea swayed. The room seemed to dip and swerve around her. “And the man?” she asked hoarsely.
“He had an unfortunate accident soon after,” her father said dryly, making it clear he wasn’t about to go into details. “But you understand me, don’t you? You see the position we were in? That’s what happens when you don’t have power.”
“Or when you work for horrible people,” she shot back passionately.
Shaking his head, he almost smiled. “The strange thing was, the Granvillis started to trust me after that. I moved up in the ranks. I gained power.” He looked at his daughter sternly. “Today, nothing like that could happen to me. And what I want for you is that same sort of immunity from harm.”
She understood what he wanted for her. She ached with love for him, ached for what he’d gone through, ached for what her own mother had endured. Her heart broke for them all.
But she still hadn’t been able to contemplate marrying Leonardo. Not then.
To some degree, she could relate to his obsession to get and hold power. Still, it was his obsession, not hers and she had no interest in making the sort of down payment on a sense of control that marrying Leonardo would entail.
But this had been the condition she’d been in when she’d first looked up and found Monte standing in her courtyard. She knew she’d never seen him before, and that was unusual. This was a small country and most in the castle had been there for years. You tended to know everyone you ran into, at least by sight. She’d jumped up and looked toward the gate, as though to run.
But he’d smiled. Something in that smile captivated her every time, and it had all begun that afternoon.
“Hi,” he’d said. “I’m running from some castle guards. Mind if I hide in here?”
Even as he spoke, she heard the guards at the gate. And just that quickly, she became a renegade.
“Hurry, hide in there,” she’d said, pointing to her bedroom. “Behind the bookcase.” She’d turned toward the gate. “I’ll deal with the guards.”
And so began her life as an accomplice to a criminal—and so also her infatuation with the most wrong man she could have fallen in love with.
Monte didn’t really appreciate the effort all this had cost her. He’d taken it for granted that she would send the guard away. She’d done the same thing the last time he was here—and that had been more dangerous for them both—because they’d already seen him in the halls at that point. The whole castle was turned upside down for the next two days as they hunted for him. And the entire time, she’d had him hidden in her bedroom.
No one knew he was here now except Pellea—so far.
“Was that the DeAngelis tiara you were talking about just now?” he asked her. “I thought I heard Leonardo bring it up.”
She glared at him. “How long have you been here spying on me? What else did you hear?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What else didn’t you want me to hear?”
She threw her hands up.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “The wedding-dress-design discussion and your talk with Leonardo were about it.”
They both turned to look at the beautiful gown hanging against a tall, mahogany wardrobe. “Is this the gown you’re wearing to the ball tonight?”
“Yes.”
It was stunning. Black velvet swirled against deep green satin. It hung before him looking as though it was already filled with a warm, womanly body. Reaching out, he spanned the waist of it with his hands and imagined dancing with her.
“The DeAngelis tiara will look spectacular with this,” he told her.
“Do you remember what it looks like?” she asked in surprise.
“Not in great detail. But I’ve seen pictures.” He gave her a sideways look of irony. “My mother’s tiara.”
She shivered, pulling her arms in close about her. “It hasn’t been your mother’s tiara for a long, long time,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so defensive.
He nodded slowly. “My mother’s and that of every other queen of Ambria going back at least three centuries,” he added softly, almost to himself.
She shivered again. “I’m sure you’re right.”
His smile was humorless. “To the victor go the spoils.”
“I didn’t make the rules.” Inside, she groaned. Still defensive. But she did feel the guilt of the past. How could she not?
“And yet, it will take more than twenty-five years to erase the memories that are centuries old. Memories of what my family accomplished here.”
She bit her lip, then looked at him, looked at the sense of tragedy in his beautiful blue eyes, and felt the tug on her heart.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, reaching for him and putting a hand on his upper arm. “I’m sorry that I have to wear your mother’s tiara. They’ve asked me to do it and I said yes.”
He covered her hand with his own and turned toward her. She recognized the light in his eyes and knew he wanted to kiss her. Her pulse raced, but she couldn’t let it happen. Quickly, she pulled away.
He sighed, shaking his head in regret, but his mind was still on something else.
“Where is it?” he asked, looking around the wardrobe. “Where do you keep it?”
“The tiara?” She searched his eyes. What was he thinking? “It’s in its case in the museum room, where it always is. Didn’t you hear Sergeant Fromer? The guards will bring it to me just before I
