Читать книгу Operation: Monarch - Valerie Parv - Страница 12

Although Garth had lived in Solano most of his life, he hadn’t set foot inside the castle grounds for years. Located on a promontory, the distinctive European-and Pacific-influenced building could be seen from every part of the city. Today the blue-and-jade Carramer flag flew above the battlements, indicating that the monarch was in residence.

Garth could have taken a tour of the public rooms anytime he wanted, but he considered the royals irrelevant to him and his day-to-day concerns. He couldn’t imagine what Prince Lorne could want with him. By rights Garth’s treatment by the navy should have soured him on serving his country. Maybe because he knew he had been wronged by one man rather than the whole service, it hadn’t. He was curious in spite of himself, although he wasn’t about to let Serena know it.

She broke into his thoughts. “Turn left here and pull up beside the sentry box.”

They were at a private entrance, he saw. Recognizing Serena, the soldier on duty came to attention and saluted but also took careful note of the ID she handed to him. When she introduced Garth, the soldier checked his details against a computer screen, then signaled to another sentry. In front of them a boom gate rose slowly, allowing them to pass.

As soon as Garth drove through, the gate lowered behind them. Ahead loomed the main castle surrounded by a cluster of smaller buildings in similar architectural style. More like a walled city than a single building. Below them, the capital was strung out jewel-like along a series of bays. The view from the upper levels of the palace must be really something.

He glanced at Serena. “Your soldier friend wasn’t keen to let me pass without you vouching for me. He probably thinks I’m a suspect you’re bringing in.”

She smiled. “Your fault for not wearing your black tie.”

It was probably the truck, he thought. The soldier looked as if he was more accustomed to waving limousines through than dusty pickups.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.

Her comment startled him. He hadn’t meant to let it show. “Maybe a little.”

“Admit it, you like thumbing your nose at convention.”

He wasn’t ready to admit anything. “What makes you think so?”

“The diving gear you’re carrying around is worth a fortune, so you can obviously afford a better vehicle. My guess is, you like shocking people into accepting you as you are.”

“It’s as good a way as any to find out who your real friends are.”

Had she passed muster by agreeing to ride with him to the palace in his truck, she wondered? A glimmer of satisfaction greeted the thought. Maybe now he would stop regarding her as a hothouse flower. Not that she was going to let his opinion affect her. But like him, she disliked being judged on superficialities.

The staff had obviously been alerted to expect them. As soon as they reached the executive wing, they were shown to the prince’s office with none of the usual formalities, then left alone with him, also as apparently instructed.

Approaching the monarch’s desk, she was surprised when Garth came to attention and bent his head in deference. She was sure he didn’t bend his stiff neck to many people, so he obviously respected Prince Lorne.

She made a similar gesture. “Sir, may I present Garth Remy.”

The prince stood and offered his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting at such short notice, Garth.”

Garth shook the prince’s hand with a confidence that suggested he met reigning monarchs every day. “My pleasure, Your Highness. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m at your service.”

Lorne inclined his head in acceptance. “Greatly appreciated.” To Serena, he said, “The resemblance is indeed remarkable.”

Seeing the two men together, she had to agree. Garth was almost exactly the prince’s height. With their dark coloring and athletic build, they could be mistaken for brothers. Or be brothers. She caught her breath. Was it possible?

Garth looked as if he was absorbing the fact, as well. “You aren’t looking for a double, are you, sir?”

“You would certainly qualify, but no. Please sit down, both of you. I gather Serena hasn’t told you what this is about?”

“I’m assuming you don’t want me to take the American president diving while he’s in town, sir.”

As she seated herself beside Garth on a leather-covered couch, Serena hoped she didn’t look as stunned as she felt. Had Garth forgotten he was addressing the country’s ruler? Or had he specifically chosen not to use “Your Highness”? Lorne only chuckled. “Golf is more his game, but I might run the suggestion past his Secret Service.”

He moved to a chair set at right angles to the sofa and sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. “How much do you know about your family background, Garth?”

She felt rather than saw Garth tense as the line of questioning caught him off guard. “The usual. One mother, one father, both from Carramer, both recently deceased. No siblings.” He shot a sharp glance at Serena. “Should I know any more?”

“Perhaps.” Lorne reached across and lifted a package off his desk. Recognizing it, she braced herself as the prince offered it to Garth. “Serena intercepted this during her preparations for the president’s visit. Go ahead, take a look.”

Garth took the package and opened it. The cast of baby footprints and the birth certificate caused no reaction, until he came to the photos. Anger vibrated off him like an electrical charge. “How were these taken without my knowledge?”

“Not by anyone in royal service and not on my authority,” Lorne assured him. “More importantly, the photos and the other items clearly suggest that you could be the rightful heir to the Carramer throne.”

Not by so much as a muscle did Garth’s expression betray his shock, although his bearing became more rigid as he absorbed the monarch’s words. He looked like a man turned to stone, she thought, wishing she had been able to prepare him for this. Perhaps nothing could have done.

He exhaled heavily. “With respect, sir, that’s garbage and we both know it.”

At this Lorne’s mouth twitched, as if he understood that in any other company, Garth would have expressed himself in far more earthy terms. “I thought so, too, when Serena brought me the package. The source of the material forces me to consider the possibility.”

Hands tightening on the plaster cast as if he would like to crush it to dust, Garth said, “First I’d have to be a member of your family, your…”

“…older brother,” Lorne finished for him. “Also a possibility.”

“How?”

The prince stood up. “Come with me.”

Motioning for his guards to remain where they were, he led the way along a corridor, coming to a halt in front of an oil painting of a woman in her late twenties. Flawless of complexion, as dark of coloring as Lorne himself, her sashed gown and diamond-encrusted crown proclaimed her rank before Lorne said, “My mother, Princess Aimee.” He turned to Garth. “It seems she may have been your mother as well.”

Unable to deny the resemblance they could all see, Garth’s fists clenched. He was fighting himself, she saw. Being related to this lovely, aristocratic woman would make a mockery of the pigheaded reverse snobbery that had ruled his life.

Her pulse jumped. If Lorne was right, Garth had no reason to hold her background against her. Assuming that was really why he had rejected her all those years ago. She felt giddy with possibilities and slightly afraid.

His snarled denial brought her back to earth with a rush. “No way. I know who my mother was.”

“Can you be sure of your facts?” Lorne asked.

“Can you be sure of yours—sir?”

So this was what happened when two alpha males met head-on. They’d squared off in mirror positions of anger and challenge. As if he could no longer tolerate the portrait’s gaze upon him, Garth suddenly spun around and shouldered his way through a set of etched glass doors leading to a walled garden.

When she and Lorne caught up with him he was pacing the length of an ornamental pool. Pebbles crunched under his feet and the glasslike surface of the water reflected his set expression. “This whole notion is crazy, Your Highness,” he snapped.

Lorne’s dark brows lifted. “So you do remember who I am?”

Garth looked unfazed by the implied rebuke. He didn’t seem to care that he had walked out on the monarch, but he sounded more respectful as he said, “Your parentage isn’t in question, sir.”

Lorne nodded in recognition of Garth’s turmoil. “However, yours is.” He clasped a hand to the other man’s shoulder. “Will you at least hear me out?”

At the prince’s touch Garth flinched, but then inclined his head stiffly in agreement. When he lifted it, his gaze settled on Serena as if she was an anchor in a raging sea. She sent him a silent message of support and was gratified when she saw his expression thaw. “I guess anything else would be high treason.”

“First I require your promise of discretion. What I’m about to tell you is known only within the royal family.”

Garth’s response was immediate. “You have it.”

Lorne dragged in a deep breath. “Princess Aimee—then Lady Aimee Sewell—was my grandmother’s principal lady-in-waiting. She was being courted by Roy Keer, a nobleman’s son and former commando who loved her passionately. Unfortunately he possessed a cruel streak that made her afraid of him. She ended their relationship but he refused to accept that it was over between them. Then Crown Prince Eduard came home from the navy, and she had eyes for no other man.”

Garth frowned. “Bet that went down well with Keer.”

Lorne’s expression lightened. “As you say, he took it badly. He walked out on his job in palace security, vowing that no man would have her if he couldn’t.”

Experience made Serena say, “Such a threat could be grounds for arrest.”

“If Aimee had pressed charges. She was so in love with Eduard that she didn’t want their happiness marred by unpleasantness.”

Garth stirred restively. “This is fascinating, but…”

“You don’t see how it concerns you? Does it help to know that her son, Louis, was accidentally conceived during that emotionally charged time?”

Lorne had Garth’s attention now, Serena saw. Pieces were starting to fall into place. All but the most crucial one. “Why didn’t Eduard marry Aimee as soon as they learned she was pregnant?”

“My grandfather, Prince Guillaume, was out of the country and they needed his blessing. When he returned he was angry because he thought they were too young, but he gave his consent because of her condition. They were planning their marriage when Aimee received more threats from Keer. Prince Guillaume had the couple spirited to a royal hideaway until Keer could be apprehended.”

Garth picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the pond’s pristine surface in a smooth action that made her lick annoyingly dry lips at the fluidity of his movements. Where the pebble touched, ripples spread out like the consequences of Lorne’s mother’s actions, Serena fancied.

“A commando-trained security man wouldn’t be stopped that easily,” Garth predicted.

Lorne watched the ripples subside. “Indeed. He eluded the authorities, tracked the young couple down and broke into the royal compound, attacking Aimee before he was apprehended. The shock drove her into early labor, and Louis was born several weeks prematurely. Stillborn, or so she believed. Yet no one from the family saw the child after the birth. Aimee was so distraught that public news of the birth was suppressed to protect her. Her need for seclusion was explained as a consequence of the attack.”

Bad enough to be attacked. Devastating to lose her child as a result, Serena thought. No wonder none of this had been made public. “What happened to Keer?”

“He served a long prison term, earning a further term for killing another prisoner.”

Where was Keer now, she wondered? Still in prison if his track record was any guide. “Surely there was a funeral service, a memorial or something for the baby?” she asked.

Lorne nodded. “There was a private service and a cremation. A rose garden was planted at the estate as a memorial.”

“There’s no conclusive proof that the baby died,” Garth observed. “If the child was stolen, the perpetrators could have arranged for an empty coffin to be cremated.”

He sounded as if he was starting to believe in a living heir, she noticed. He wasn’t the only one. “The baby could have been farmed out to foster parents who may not have known whose child they had adopted,” she surmised, mentally compiling a list of suspects starting with the medical attendants and the staff at the hideaway when the baby was born. If any of them had been connected with Keer, it could make for an interesting trail.

“What makes you think this involves me?” Garth demanded. “My parents didn’t talk much about the past and I have no relatives I can ask, but surely I’d have picked up some hint that something wasn’t right?”

“Your lack of siblings could be a clue in itself.”

She voiced what she guessed Lorne was thinking. “If the Remys desperately wanted a baby and couldn’t have children of their own, they’d have been the ideal couple to approach about an illegal adoption.” She gave Garth an apologetic smile before going on. “I doubt they could have afforded to go through regular channels.”

Garth’s expression hardened. “Unfortunately, you’re right.” His relentless gaze thanked her for pointing it out. She felt his pain but silently begged him to understand that she had to do her job. At the same time she wished she could tell him how much she admired how he was handling this. If she’d had everything she’d ever believed about herself turned upside down, she doubted she could discuss it as dispassionately as Garth was doing.

He’d mastered the art of guarding his feelings at an early age, she recalled. Whether he was taunted about being the oldest boy in school, or didn’t have an answer in class because he’d been working on his parents’ boat when the subject was studied, he’d acted as if he didn’t care. She saw it carved on his face now. Sticks and stones, it proclaimed. Or a core of certainty about who and what he was that no external force could touch.

Lorne projected the same air, she realized. Was it an alpha quality they shared, or something more?

Garth folded his arms across his chest. “Being illegally adopted doesn’t make me royalty.”

“As well as the strong family resemblance, you carry a genetic trait unique to the de Marignys.”

“Coincidence.”

“Or a scheme to keep you hidden until your existence could be revealed when it would do the most harm to Carramer,” Lorne suggested. “If you consent to it, DNA testing will establish beyond doubt whether you could be my parents’ child.”

“Of course I consent.” Garth’s tone said the sooner the better.

“Assuming the test is conclusive, under Carramer law, as the eldest son you would be the heir presumptive.”

“Hell’s teeth.”

Lorne’s mouth twitched. “Precisely.”

Her mind whirled. “Carramer First must be planning to announce Garth’s existence on the eve of the American president’s visit.”

Garth shot her a sharp look. “What would that achieve?”

She suspected the reason but looked to Lorne, who answered. “The president wants to establish an American base on one of the outer islands in exchange for long-term trade and defense benefits to both our countries. Any uncertainty about my right to finalize the agreement could derail the talks.”

Garth’s breath whistled out. “Sounds like someone doesn’t want that base built.”

She chewed her lower lip. “Carramer First has a republican agenda, but they’ve never gone beyond noisy demonstrations and minor acts of sabotage. Their antics are mainly aimed at gaining publicity and supporters. Stealing the heir to the throne and announcing his existence years later is beyond their scope.”

“It isn’t beyond somebody’s scope,” Garth said. “If not Carramer First themselves, then who and why?”

“Someone could be using the group to push an agenda of their own,” Lorne suggested.

She had been thinking the same thing. “The members may not know they’re being used.”

“Also a presumption.” Lorne thrust his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately, DNA testing takes at least two weeks to obtain a result, more time than we have before the president’s arrival.”

“Someone evidently took that into account,” Serena said. “They’re obviously not stupid, which means they won’t be easy to pin down.”

Lorne became all business. “That’s why I’m assigning you to find who’s behind this and stop them before the president’s visit. You’ll have to work quietly. If word gets out about a possible claimant to the throne, it could not only derail the summit, it could throw the whole kingdom into turmoil.”

She drew herself up. “Understood, Your Highness. However, I could be recognized by some of the Carramer First members. I’ve broken a few of their heads during demonstrations outside the palace.”

“You may have to break a few more before this is over,” Lorne said wryly. “They must know by now that the package is missing. They’ll expect us to learn of its existence. If you’re seen with Garth they’ll think you’ve been assigned to protect him until we get to the bottom of this.”

Protect Garth? She almost laughed out loud, unable to think of any man less in need of her protection.

His body language also rejected the notion outright even before he said, “Respectfully, Your Highness, if I’m going to help I’d prefer a more active assignment.”

“And if you are the true heir?”

Something knotted inside her as she thought of him putting himself at risk, not because of who he might be, but because…well because he was Garth. “In any case you don’t have a security background,” she said.

“I have my navy experience. It covers a lot of ground.” He faced Lorne. “Unless the circumstances of my discharge means you’re not willing to trust me.”

Lorne’s expression betrayed nothing. “I know only what the record shows.”

Garth’s mouth firmed. “The record is wrong.”

“Not according to Admiral McRafe.”

“Admiral McRafe is an ass—admiral, sir. He isn’t a diver. Defective equipment caused the trainee’s injury.”

She saw Lorne suppress a smile at Garth’s blunt description of the admiral, censored barely in time. She had met the admiral at a palace briefing once, and the dislike had been mutual. But would he destroy a man’s career before admitting he was wrong?

“The question of the succession is our priority right now,” Lorne said. “The court physician is out of the country, but I’ll have his deputy arrange the DNA test under the strictest secrecy. I’m told she needs to test as many members of the royal family as possible, so I’ve announced that I wish to establish a DNA data bank for historical reasons.”

“I recommend setting up a command post at the summer palace at Allora where it would be easier to keep the investigation under wraps,” Serena proposed.

Lorne inclined his head. “I concur. The two of you will go there as soon as the testing is completed.”

The two of you.

Instant heat coiled through her, disturbing in its intensity. Basing the investigation at Allora was logical and Garth had to be involved, but she hadn’t counted on Lorne sending Garth to the summer palace with her. Already her awareness of him put her senses on overdrive. Tough to function efficiently when unsettling currents ripped through her every time he looked at her.

She debated whether to claim emotional involvement as a way out, but could she honestly? Sexual awareness wasn’t the same thing, and that’s all she was prepared to acknowledge. “Isn’t Garth safer here, Your Highness?” she suggested anyway.

Before Lorne could answer, Garth snarled, “To the devil with safe. I should have some say in this. If I am the heir, I outrank both of you.”

Unperturbed, Lorne smiled. “When and if the crown is yours, you can do as you wish. Until then, I rule here. I want you out of harm’s way until we know the truth.”

Even Garth couldn’t argue with a man whose word was quite literally law. His bent head conceded the reality, although the rest of his stiff pose telegraphed defiance. “As Your Highness wishes.”

For now, she heard, although he didn’t say it. In the stubbornness stakes the two were evenly matched. Another indication of their relationship? Carramer was in for a shock if it got Garth as a monarch, but not as much as Lorne himself, she thought. He’d been born to rule. Garth ruled no one but himself, and he didn’t take kindly to following another man’s orders. How had he survived so long in the navy?

Lorne narrowed his eyes. “Serena?”

She resisted the urge to sigh. “As soon as the test is done, we’ll leave for Allora—together, sir.”

“Good. I’m putting you in charge.”

Garth looked as if he would like to strangle someone with his bare hands. If she had a problem dealing with him, he obviously had a bigger one with answering to her. Good. It might distract him from making her job harder than it already was.