Authors: Cheryl Holt
“If I wear a hat,” Nicholas said, “I’m safe on the streets in town. I just oughtn’t to go into the palace. My cousin, Kristof, isn’t very bright. If he’s searching for me, it would never occur to him that I’d be out among the rabble.”
“We have to liberate both your sisters, but I’m having a difficult time figuring out how we’d accomplish it.”
“We’ll think of something.” Nicholas’s confidence in Bryce’s abilities was much greater than Bryce’s own. “I have every faith in you.”
“I’m starving, so I’d like to find some dinner.”
“I’m starving too.”
“Then we should stop by a livery to see if we can buy or rent some horses. If we can get your sisters out of the palace—”
“
When
we get them out,” Nicholas interrupted.
“I want to have horses ready. We’ll have to ride like the wind. We can’t putter along in a carriage.”
“Agreed.”
“Do your sisters ride?”
Nicholas grinned. “Like the wind.”
“Wonderful.”
“And don’t forget. Parthenia is a very small country, so if we use the main road, it’s about fourteen miles to the border. Once we’re over it, Kristof’s men can’t follow us.”
“Well, they weren’t supposed to have much authority in Egypt either, but they managed to kidnap you and almost kill me. I’m not willing to assume that a mere border will give us any protection.”
“You’re correct of course,” Nicholas said.
“Are you sure about this, Nicholas? If you flee, you’re probably surrendering your father’s throne forever.”
“I realize that.”
“I intend to proceed to England with the three of you. We’ll race to Calais in France and cross the Channel. After we’re in London, we’ll have land and sea between us and Kristof. Even then I’m not positive how safe you’ll be, but you have to be prepared to accept what you’ll be relinquishing.”
“Katarina keeps telling me the same, and I understand the consequences. For now I can’t allow Kristof to harm my sisters. It’s the only important issue. In a few years, when I’m an adult, I can fight my own battles. I’ll be older and tougher, and I can retake my own throne. Katarina won’t have to fight my battles for me.”
“That’s an excellent plan.” Bryce smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a good brother, Nicholas. Your father would be proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
He dipped his head, a regal gesture of acknowledgement, and Bryce was charmed as always. Nicholas was so mature and polite, so smart and interesting. He’d been raised to be a king, and he definitely showed it in his stellar manners and calm temperament.
When they’d been in Egypt, Bryce had recognized Nicholas was special, but he would never have guessed he was a royal prince. Or maybe he would have. Nicholas wasn’t like any other boy Bryce had ever known.
“Let’s eat,” Bryce said, “then check on the horses.”
“I’m coming with you then?”
“Yes. I don’t think I should leave you alone, but if we bump into any guards, you have to slip away. We’ll meet back here.”
“I’ll be fine. As I mentioned, I doubt very much they’ll be looking for me among the common people.”
They bundled up in sweaters and hats and went out into the chilly afternoon. It wasn’t that cold, but after Bryce’s extended sojourn in the desert, he was constantly freezing, and Parthenia was a mountainous country.
The town was nestled in a lovely valley, with the palace on a promontory up above. Off in the distance, he could see snow-capped peaks. It was late autumn, so without warning, a winter storm could blow in. He hoped—once he found a way to abscond with the Morovsky siblings—that they wouldn’t be caught in an early blizzard.
With how his luck was running, he’d succeed in saving them only to perish in a snow storm.
They bought some meat pies from a street vendor, then kept on to a livery that was on the edge of town and the perfect place for a fast getaway. They were talking quietly, deciding Nicholas would wait outside while Bryce haggled with the owner.
They walked along, and they were marking alleys and alcoves where Nicholas could hide if he had to, and Bryce was fretting whether it would have been better to have left him at the inn. But what if guards had stumbled on him while Bryce was away? What was best?
For the moment, Bryce was determined not to let Nicholas out of his sight.
They approached the barn, and as they neared, two men exited the building. They were tall and dark-haired, and as Bryce glanced at their faces, he realized they were identical twins.
He scowled, abruptly swamped by the strangest feeling of disorientation. There was a ringing in his ears, the sound giving him such vertigo he was almost too dizzy to remain standing.
“What is it?” Nicholas whispered.
“I…I…know those men.”
Nicholas tensed. “Should I run?”
“No, no, I have to be mistaken.” Bryce scoffed at his foolishness. “I was thinking they were from London, but that’s not possible. There’s no reason for me to meet someone from home. I just…just…”
The twins hadn’t noticed Bryce yet, but they kept coming in his direction. One of them peered over at Bryce, and Bryce murmured, “Michael…Scott? Is that you?”
Michael Scott was a renowned criminal and London gambling club owner who catered to the wealthy sons of the aristocracy. Rumors had always swirled that he smuggled liquor too, that he blackmailed and robbed. He was extremely wealthy from his illegal enterprises and was supposed to be incredibly violent too, but Bryce had never witnessed any misbehavior.
He had simply wagered at the man’s club but had never been introduced. The last time Bryce had seen him had been at a musical soiree when Evangeline had been singing, and Bryce had accompanied her on the harpsichord. It was shortly before Bryce had sailed to Egypt.
Suddenly Bryce thought of the letter he’d received from Evangeline when he was still staying with Valois. His breath hitched in his chest.
She’d claimed she’d located their twin brothers. She’d claimed Mr. Scott was one of them, but that he was actually Michael Blair and his surname had been changed when he was a boy. The other, Matthew, was a soldier in the army.
Bryce’s mind was awhirl as he tried to recall everything Evangeline had penned, while also trying to make sense of bumping into them in Parthenia. Fleetingly he wondered if he wasn’t hallucinating, and he blinked and blinked, but the men were real and right in front of him.
Mr. Scott had stopped in his tracks. His jaw agape, he appeared as thunderstruck as Bryce.
“Oh, my Lord,” Mr. Scott mumbled. “Bryce? Bryce Blair? Is it you?”
“Yes, it’s me, Bryce Blair.”
Mr. Scott’s twin grinned. “We found you? Truly?”
Bryce was so stunned he couldn’t move, and the twins were stunned too. The three of them were frozen in their spots, smiling, studying one another. Then Michael blustered over, his twin marching with him, their strides exactly the same.
“You remember me from London, don’t you?” Michael Scott asked.
“Evangeline wrote to me while I was in Egypt. She said…said…” Bryce couldn’t force out the words.
“So you know who we are.”
“She said you’re my brothers.”
“She’s correct.”
Bryce was so shocked his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. His heart was pounding so hard he worried it might simply burst out of his chest.
The twins leapt forward and grabbed his arms, keeping him on his knees so he didn’t fall the rest of the way and land flat on his face. Poor Nicholas was terrified, and he cried, “Mr. Blair! Mr. Blair! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Nicholas. I’m fine. I’m very, very fine.”
Bryce’s vision had faded, and it dawned on him that he was weeping, tears dripping down his cheeks. He swiped at them with his hand.
“Oh, my God, oh my God,” he muttered over and over.
“Here now,” Michael gently soothed, “there’s no need to be so upset. Let’s get you on your feet.”
His brothers lifted him, and the three of them stood in a tight circle, Bryce scrutinizing their features. He had an old portrait of their father, and the twins looked exactly like him. There wasn’t a whisker of difference.
Bryce had been five when his father had been killed, but on seeing the twins, he felt as if he was staring at the man, as if not a day had passed.
“I’m your brother, Michael,” Michael said.
“You were Michael Scott in London.”
“Yes, I was given the name at an orphanage. I was too young to realize I shouldn’t have let them change it.”
“All these years, we were crossing paths.”
“Yes, isn’t it strange? It’s almost as if it was meant to be.” Michael gestured to his twin. “This is Matthew. His surname was Harlow when he was growing up, but the past few months we’ve both become Blairs again.”
“Matthew, hello.” Bryce hugged him, then he asked them, “Do you recollect that morning at the docks when they took Mother away?”
“Not the actual event,” Matthew replied, “but we have nightmares about it.”
“Mother told me to watch over you, but I couldn’t. Mr. Etherton sent me away, and I never saw you again. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” they said.
“I’ve been sorry ever since.”
“We thrived though,” Michael pointed out. “We made it. It’s over, and we can be a family now.”
“But…what are you doing here? How did you find me?”
Matthew answered the question. “You mailed your itinerary to Evangeline, and we came to meet you. Parthenia was our last stop though. If we hadn’t stumbled on you here, we were going to figure we’d missed you and turn around.”
Michael added, “As to what we’re
doing,
we couldn’t wait to tell you the news.”
“What news?”
“We’ve retrieved the estate and the title. We’ve retrieved what was stolen from us, and we happily give it all to you.”
Initially he was confused over what they were claiming, then he gasped with astonishment. “Radcliffe is ours?”
“Yes,” Michael said, and in unison they declared, “and Father is avenged.”
Matthew said, “I hope his ghost is resting easier. It seems to be.”
“So…
Lord Radcliffe”
—Michael had a definite teasing glint in his eye—“we are escorting you to your castle where you belong.”
“Am I dreaming?” Bryce asked.
“No,” Michael responded, “it’s all very, very true, and we wanted you to be apprised immediately. It’s why we decided to fetch you.”
“We’ll have to talk all night,” Bryce said.
“I imagine it will take the remainder of our lives to straighten it out, but first we have to get you home. Evangeline is planning for all of us to spend Christmas at Radcliffe, so we can’t dally in Europe. We have to get riding.”
Bryce felt a tug on his coat, and he glanced down to see Nicholas, his gaze curious and intense. Bryce had been so overwhelmed that he’d completely forgotten Nicholas was there, and he’d been too polite to interrupt.
“Nicholas,” he said, “this will sound very peculiar, but these men are my brothers. I didn’t know them, and we’ve only just met.”
“That is an extremely odd statement,” Nicholas said, “and I’m eager to hear the tale behind it.”
“Who is this?” Michael asked.
“This is Nicholas Morovsky.” Bryce leaned nearer and quietly murmured, “He is the Crown Prince of Parthenia, and someday he will be His Majesty the King.”
Michael and Matthew exchanged a shocked look, and Michael said, “You have some interesting friends.”
“Yes, I do,” Bryce agreed, “and at the moment, he’s in trouble and in danger, so he’s simply Nicholas, a shop boy and vendor’s son.”
Nicholas peered up at Bryce. “Might they help us to rescue Katarina and Isabelle? Can they fight?”
Matthew scoffed. “Can we
fight
? We invented fighting. Who is it who needs rescuing?”
“My sisters,” Nicholas replied. “They’re trapped in the palace and we have to get them out. Then we’re going to England too.”
“It appears we’ll have quite a caravan,” Michael said.
Bryce chuckled. “It’s a long story.”
“It certainly must be.”
“I have a room at an inn in the town,” Bryce said. “We can return there, and I’ll explain what’s happening.”
They started down the street, Nicholas leading the way, the three Blair brothers walking shoulder to shoulder. Bryce was blond-haired as his mother had been, and the twins were dark-haired like their father. But it was their blue, blue eyes that set them apart, that marked them as siblings.
Bryce had lost them that morning at the docks. It had been the worst day of his life. Worse than the day they’d learned his father had been killed. Worse than the day their mother had been arrested. Worse than the day their home was forfeit and debt collectors had swooped in like vultures and seized all their possessions.
He’d sworn to his mother that he’d protect the twins, but he’d only been five. In his mind, he’d understood that it had been an impossible quest. Yet in his heart, he’d always felt he’d failed both his mother and his brothers. Servants had carted them away, had tossed them in a coach and left with them.
For a bit of time, he’d remembered them clearly, and with a little boy’s determination, he’d thought he could somehow carry out his promise to his mother.
But years had passed, and memories had faded. Once he’d grown older and might have hunted for them, details had been so hazy that he’d had no idea where to begin. So he hadn’t looked, hadn’t searched. It was just one of the guilt-laden recollections that had plagued him.
But now…but now…
They were together, and no matter what else transpired in the future, he would never let them go again.
Nicholas glanced back at Bryce. “Are you really a lord?”
“Yes.”
“What is your rank?”
“I’m an earl. I’m Earl of Radcliffe—as our father should have been before me.”
“Hmm…” Nicholas mused. “You’re not as high as I’d like, but when we’re finished here in Parthenia, I might agree to your marrying Katarina. If she’ll have you.”
“It’s always been the plan, Nicholas. Let’s see if we can make it happen.”
* * * *
Katarina sat on the dais in the main hall with Kristof.
Supper had ended and dancing was about to start. Normally Kat would have loved to dance the night away, but Kristof was awful at it so he never participated. As the dishes were being removed, he’d ordered her not to embarrass him by joining in, so she probably wouldn’t—although for once she was considering it.