MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) (16 page)

His stomach was still on the floor when Yanni suddenly appeared at the door, looking frustratingly cool and collected.

“It seems that the walls have ears,” Darius drawled.

“A concerned staff member passed on that you left your quarters looking rather agitated.”

“I got a phone call from Galen. He’s arriving tomorrow.”

Yanni’s glasses seemed to flash in the muted light. Then Darius admitted how the figurine had somehow fallen off her perch and was now a pile of rubble.

“She’s spent centuries locked away, safe and sound,” Darius said. “But when it’s
my
turn…” He flinched.

His father would have disowned him. And then there was Helene. He’d accused her of tampering with the figurine. But he’d immediately seen in her face that she hadn’t, and wouldn’t. Still, she’d been upset enough to return to her previous quarters. She didn’t think he trusted her. She assumed he thought she was a klutz.

Spilled paint. Broken glasses.

She did have a history…

Hands clasped before him, Yanni crossed over. “I’ll have an expert look at the figurine,” he said. “We’ll have her restored.”

“The finest craftsman would die of old age before putting her halfway back together.” Considering the options, he rapped a set of fingertips on the chair arm. “I’ll sweep up the pieces myself and…”

Yanni waited. “And what, Your Highness?”

Dazed, Darius shook his head. “I have no idea. What does a person do with a priceless artifact that he’s demolished? She’s only been known through legend. No one would ever be the wiser. But I know.” He hadn’t protected her.

Emotion swelled in his chest, burning and twisting. “I was going to make an announcement,” he said. “Helene’s pregnant.”

Yanni stepped back as if someone had pushed him.

“I’ve proposed,” Darius went on. “The child is mine and no power on earth will convince me to walk away.”

“And Ms. Masters?”

“She accepted.”

“You sound…conflicted.”

“I know what she thought tonight when the figurine fell. If it hadn’t been for her, the goddess would have been locked away in a vault.”

And then he’d seen it on her face. She wanted to run back to what was familiar. She wanted to return to the States, to her haven of Point St. Claire.

“But nothing is her fault. I made those choices. And now I can’t undo them.”

Yanni shifted, his nose scrunching and hands rubbing like he had an itch that was driving him insane. Finally he stretched to his full meager height and announced, “Your Highness, there’s something you should see.”

Darius groaned. “Now?”

“It’s important.”

Darius was weary, frustrated. But Yanni looked determined.  Exhaling, he pushed on the chair’s arms, found his feet and followed his Chief Aide out the door.

Yanni led him to a nearby room, to a vault, which he opened before stepping well back. Darius lowered onto haunches, looked inside… And his jaw nearly smacked the ground. He rubbed his eyes and, with his heart belting against his ribs, looked harder. “What is that? Some sort of joke?”

“That, Your Highness, is the true and original goddess.”

“
Impossible
. My father swore to me on his grave…”

“Your father didn’t know. This figurine has been handed down via every Chief Aide through the ages. It’s an arduous journey back and forth over the water. And as far as staying in that cave where anyone might find her…” Yanni shuddered so much his glasses slipped. “Only once that I’m aware of was she bundled away for a brief period to wait inside that chamber. But that occurred under extreme circumstances almost a hundred years ago.”

With infinite care, Yanni slid the figurine out of the safe and handed it to Darius. With that warm steady weight in his hands, he was left near speechless.

“Yanni?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I’m shaking so much I might drop her.” Yanni took back the figurine as Darius let out a relieved sigh. “You know, Helene thought we should build her a home. A place where she would be protected but where others could enjoy her, too.”

“You want to put the goddess on display?”

“I know. It sounds exploitive.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Darius’s brows hiked up. “You agree?”

“We don’t have to decide tonight.” Yanni slipped the figurine back into her safe. “From what you’ve told me, you have a more pressing matter to attend to. How will you handle meeting your uncle tomorrow?”

“My father exiled the man. As far as I can see, there’s only one thing I can do.”

The next morning, Darius knocked on Helene’s door. He waited, tapped his foot, and knocked again, this time louder. Finally, the door fanned open.

Helene wore an inexpensive cotton dress. As always, she glowed, but smudges beneath her eyes showed she hadn’t slept.

“I was harsh last night,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “If that accident was anyone’s fault, it was mine. And I don’t want you to worry about the figurine.” He would explain all about last night’s incredible discovery later when a decision had been made about the goddess’s future residence. “I regret the words we had.”

She leaned against the jamb. “I haven’t been able to stop going over it all in my head. Everything that’s happened since we met. You might not believe me, but I didn’t touch the figurine—”

“No. I
do
believe you.”

Her mouth tugged to one side then a shoulder came up. “Darius, I want to go home for a while.”

His first instinct was to tell her she didn’t have to go anywhere. He could handle Galen, the coronation—it would be easier if she was by his side rather than him worrying about when, or if, she would ever come back. He wanted to bring her to him, kiss her, and apologize again, but he thought that would only firm up her resistance. She didn’t want to be seduced. She wanted to negotiate.

He slid both hands in his pants pockets. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe I could go with you.” He tried on a smile. “I should probably meet your mom before the big day.”

“You can’t leave here now.”

His hands came out of their pockets. “Then why don’t you stay?” He amended, “Just until Galen leaves and the announcements are made.”

She held his gaze until her eyes began to shine. But she didn’t look away. “I think we should put off any announcements.”

Ice cold sailed through his middle. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“You’ve talked enough about rebellion and traditions and superstitions…Darius, frankly, I’m a little spooked. And I have someone else to worry about now.”

“So do I.”

“Then you understand.”

He reached for her hands. He didn’t have any answers—only two words. “Don’t go.”

She blinked several times as if fighting back tears. “Darius, I need to tell you…” She took in a breath. “I’m in love with you. Marrying you would be so much more than a convenience to me. But I can’t stay now. I need to go home. And, to be honest,
really
honest…I can’t tell you when I’ll be back.”

Later that morning, Darius met Galen as he got off an incoming ship. Darius walked straight up. Recognizing his nephew, Galen smiled and offered his hand.

Looking into his uncle’s dark eyes, seeing the resemblance… For a moment, it was like seeing his father again.

“Welcome home.”

Galen set a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “It’s been too long.”

Darius could have ordered a carriage straight back to the palace or headed for the other side of the island where only lovers hid away in the woods and the coves, but he didn’t want to hide. He was done with speculating on what ills might befall if he didn’t run his life to the letter of his father’s law.

So he led Galen to Alexio’s taverna and was directed to his usual table by the waitress who had taken Helene’s place.

“I know this must have caused an inconvenience,” Galen said, reaching for the coffee the waitress had hurried to serve. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

“I was surprised by your call. I didn’t know if you’d ever want to come back.”

“I never wanted to leave but, for everyone’s sakes, I had no option.”

And Darius’s father had had no option but to exile his brother. But he didn’t want to dredge up bad memories. He was eager to hear about his uncle’s new life.

“How’s your wife?”

Galen touched the gold band on his finger. “Ferah’s a little under the weather. She wanted to come and visit with you and Tahlia. We caught up with Nikos in London recently.”

Darius frowned. “My brother and I e-mail and talk on the phone all the time. He never mentioned you saw each other.”

“I asked him not to.”

Darius sat back. “Why are you here, Galen? Why now?”

The older man set down his cup with a slightly unsteady hand. “Firstly, I want to apologize for what happened all those years ago. I never intended for your father to have to take on such a heavy burden. He was my younger brother. I’d been raised to protect him.”

Darius remembered his uncle’s kind ways. He had no doubt he wanted to protect his family. As it had turned out, he’d put them all in serious danger.

“Your father might have thought I was selfish,” Galen said, “and irresponsible to carry on with Ferah when the rumors turned into threats. But nothing is ever cut and dried. I had a responsibility to Ferah as well. We were married, and I had vowed to stand by her. Your father didn’t know but many times she’d offered to leave and bow out of my life. Then a friend of hers contacted me.”

Darius’s thoughts went to Helene and to how similar his own situation was to his uncle’s. This morning when she’d said she wanted to return to the States—when she’d confessed her love—for the first time, he had truly understood his feelings for her.

A marriage would be more than a convenience to him, too. But something had held him back from admitting that to her.

Reaching into his breast pocket, Galen withdrew a small dispenser and slipped a pill under his tongue then chased it down with more coffee. Darius wondered about the pill but he was more interested in his uncle’s story.

“What did Ferah’s friend have to say?”

“That my wife was pregnant. Or had been. She lost the baby.” Galen’s mouth tightened. “I blame myself. She was under such pressure. Then the unrest began to spiral. I made a choice and to this day I don’t regret it.”

Thinking of that unborn child and his own, Darius asked, “Why are you telling me this now?”

Galen fingered the pill dispenser left out on the table near his cup. “The doctors give me no more than a year.”

The words echoed through Darius’s brain. His world rocked while his uncle only looked resigned.

“Can anything be done?”

“I’ve accepted it. Ferah, unfortunately, is taking the news badly. We have friends, but with her parents passed on and no siblings, I know she’ll feel left on her own.”

“You never had children of your own?”

“A great sadness to us both.” Galen glanced around the taverna then out the window onto the street. A wistful smile curved his lips. “It seems like yesterday that I lived here with everything ahead of me. Life is so brief.” His grin was wry. “For us mere mortals anyway.”

The goddess popped into Darius’s head. Suddenly he wanted Galen’s opinion. But then that waitress appeared again.

“More coffee?” she asked.

“Not now,” Darius said. “Thank you.”

She collected the empty cups and repositioned the vase. “The geraniums are so gorgeous this time of year.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Darius picked up the thread.

When Galen had left all those years ago, he’d have passed on the secret of the cave to his brother. What would he say to the suggestion of sharing the figurine with the citizens of Tierenias—with the world?

“There was an accident on the other island,” Darius began. “A cave-in.” When Galen stiffened, Darius held up a calming hand. “No one was hurt, including the figurine. Since my return, she’s remained in my quarters. But last night, there was another incident.”

Darius relayed the events. Before he could pass on that the genuine figurine had been kept safe in a separate vault all these years, Galen interrupted. He was more interested in Helene than the goddess.

“You’re serious about this woman?”

Darius exhaled. Time for the homerun. “Helene is pregnant. I asked her to marry me.”

Galen’s gaze veered toward a pair of doves bobbing around in a planter outside the window. A smile spread across his face. “I’d like to meet her.”

Suddenly, Darius felt the closeness again—the exact same emotions he’d known as a young boy who had idolized his uncle and had wanted to grow up to be just like him. 

Darius pushed back his chair. “We’ll talk more in the carriage.” As they moved toward the taverna’s doorway, from the corner of his eye, Darius caught a flash. That waitress was lowering a camera.

With a cheeky smile, she shrugged. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Darius was used to having his picture taken. Still, while ever he was here, enjoying the food and company with Helene, no one had presumed to take a shot without asking first.

But he waved it away. If a backpacker passing through wanted a memento of the time she’d served the prince and an elderly friend coffee, why not?

Back at the palace, Darius first settled his uncle into comfortable private quarters then rang to have his horse saddled. A few minutes later, he entered the stables. Ajax appeared, bounding out of a stall. He should have known he’d find his dog here.

Ajax flew up but then stopped to sit still at his master’s feet. Otis appeared with Darius’s saddled horse. As the younger man offered the reins, courteous and professional as ever, a wave of shame engulfed him. Otis was a fine young man. Obviously he truly cared for his sister.

Life was so brief.

Darius took the reins. “Tahlia said you were thinking of going away and taking her with you.”

“For a week. I wanted to speak with you myself.”

“I’ll give you my answer now.” Darius set his hand on Otis’s shoulder. “Have fun. But promise me something.”

When Otis got his mouth to work, he said, “Of course.”

“Come back. I don’t want to lose either one of you. Can you do that?”

Otis smiled and then laughed. “Absolutely.”

Darius swung up onto the saddle and headed out. Ajax started after him but Darius shooed him back. “This ride’s solo.” He asked Otis, “Look after him until I get back?”

Otis was already on haunches, ruffling Ajax’s ears. “Of course, Your Highness.” He corrected himself. “Darius.”

Sometime later, Darius had reached the other side of the island. Cantering over the more secluded hillsides, he thought about Tahlia and Galen. Most of all, he thought about Helene. He didn’t want her to leave. In a way that he hadn’t understood before, he knew he wanted her to be his wife. He wanted them to share a life together.

But he could never keep her here unless she truly wanted to stay.

He was walking his horse, debating how and where he ought to talk to Helene again, when he came to the crest of a hill. Below lay a particularly picturesque cove. In the water, unaware of their audience, a young couple swam, swirling, playing, and kissing in the shallows. Darius allowed the emotions to filter through him. That could be any couple, happy together, clearly in love.

That had been Helene and him on the island.

And if he didn’t act quickly, it could all finish as quickly as it had begun.