A Royal Mission

“I am Captain Lance Grayson, Head of the Investigative Division of the Royal Security Detail of Thortonburg. I was assigned to find you.”

Victoria had to admit he did look like a protector. But she still wasn’t ready to trust him. “Do you have some sort of identification?”

From his pocket, he produced a leather-encased gold badge.

It looked real, Victoria admitted. But it didn’t make any sense that someone from the Royal Security Detail would be looking for her. Their duty was to protect the royal family. There were other agencies for commoners to turn to. “So you found me. Why can’t you take me home?”

“Your kidnappers are still at large. It is possible they will worry that you can identify them. They might seek to eliminate you. For now, it’s safest to keep you in hiding.”

His reasoning sounded plausible. Maybe the royal security people were called in on kidnappings. Those were very rare occurrences in their little country. Enlightenment suddenly dawned on her. “It was a mistake, wasn’t it? The kidnappers kidnapped the wrong person.”

“It was no mistake.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Then, do you know why I was kidnapped?”

“For ransom.”

Her disbelief increased. “That doesn’t make any sense. In the first place, my father isn’t wealthy. He’s a headmaster. And in the second place, anyone who knew anything about us would know he wouldn’t pay even a wooden nickel to set me free.” She flushed with embarrassment at having admitted to a stranger how strained her relationship with her father was, but her companion showed no surprise, only curiosity.

“To aid us in capturing the person or persons who abducted you, I need to know all you can remember about your kidnapping.”

Victoria would have preferred to forget the whole ordeal, but she wanted The Whisperer caught and brought to justice. And, if Captain Grayson was on the level, he was certainly the man who could do just that. “I remember arriving in Thortonburg. I’d taken the bus from the airport. I got in late. Very late. I was walking to my flat, when I was grabbed from behind.” She paused as a tremor of remembered fear shook her. “Something evil-smelling was pressed over my nose and mouth. I woke in the cabin, bound, gagged and blindfolded.” Suddenly realizing she had no clue as to how long she’d been in captivity, she asked, “What is today’s date?”

Lance told her.

“I was held for well over a week,” she murmured, then added, “it felt more like a year.”

Lance obviously sensed the strain that remembering was causing her because his tone softened to a gentle but firm coaxing. “What do you recall of your captivity?”

Again she found herself not wanting to remember. It was only Captain Grayson’s presence that made her feel secure enough to allow her mind to go back to those dreadful days. He was, she thought, very like a granite pillar. For a moment she remained silent to allow the memories to become clearer, then she spoke again. “I remember that when I first woke, there were ropes binding my wrists. I had almost gotten them loose when The Whisperer arrived.”

“The Whisperer?”

“That’s the name I gave my captor because he always whispered.” She shivered. “It was an ugly whisper. Malicious. I could swear I heard amusement in it as if he was enjoying himself immensely.”

He won’t enjoy himself when I catch up with him, Lance vowed. “You say you had almost freed yourself when he returned?”

Victoria nodded. “He said it was lucky for me he’d arrived when he did. He said that if I’d freed my hands and taken my blindfold off and seen him, he’d have to kill me. Then he said that would be a shame because he’d gone to so much trouble to see that he didn’t have to go that far. He told me he’d waited to start giving me sedatives until the chloroform had worn off so that he could be certain not to use too many drugs on me at any one time. Then he said he’d have to use his handcuffs in the future.”

“Do you remember anything that might identify the man you call The Whisperer?”

Victoria studied her proclaimed rescuer. Again, the thought played through her mind that if he was truly on her side, she had found a champion who could protect her. But nothing about what was happening to her made any sense. And the fact that he refused to take her home continued to feed her suspicions.

Then there was his very official, very stiff manner. On one hand, it was assuring. On the other, she would have felt more at ease if he’d behaved, at least a little, as if he wanted to be her friend. Until she found out what was really going on, she would trust no one. And as soon as the opportunity arose, she would escape and search out the truth on her own.

Turning her mind back to The Whisperer, Victoria concentrated hard for a long moment, then said, “No, nothing definitive. He came a couple of times a day, I think, and would unbind me, lead me to the facilities, let me use them, then have me drink down a can of something that tasted like a food supplement. Then he’d make me swallow more pills. The first couple of times, I tried not to swallow them, but he put a gun to my head and gave me no choice.’ A shiver of disgust shook her. “Every time he came, I required more and more help from him.” Not wanting to remember anymore, she turned her gaze to the window. “Since you will not take me home, will you at least allow me to go outside?”

“Yes, of course.” He rose and took the mug from her, then offered her his arm.

Studying the holstered gun as she accepted his aid to rise, she wondered if she could extract it from the holster quicker than he could stop her. At the moment, she knew she couldn’t, and without the gun she was no match for his strength. So for now she would continue to play his game, whatever that game was. Once on her feet, she released him. She could not shake the fear that he was the enemy and his sturdiness unnerved her. “I can walk on my own,” she said.

Respectful of her wish, Lance stepped back and allowed her to proceed ahead of him.

Victoria moved slowly, not only because her body was still sluggish, but also because she wanted to survey her surroundings. The room across from the bedroom looked like a study. Pausing at the doorway, she asked, “Whose house is this?”

“Mine,” Lance replied.

His answer was encouraging. Surely he would not have taken her to his place if he intended to harm her. It would be too difficult to get rid of all the evidence that she’d been there. Wondering if he would stop her, she entered the study, hoping to find clues that would tell her if her host was being honest with her.

Aware of the furtive glances she’d cast his way, Lance knew she still didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her. Her kidnapping had been a terrible ordeal. And, because she didn’t know the whole truth, a confusing one. In her shoes, he wouldn’t be ready to trust too quickly, either.

He was well aware of the strained relationship between father and daughter, but for Victoria to suspect Malcolm Rockford wouldn’t lift a finger, or spare a dime, to save her saddened him.

He found himself thinking that most men would believe she was worth much more than her weight in gold and jewels. There was an aura about her that lit up a room. The Grand Duke was certain to be pleased when she was presented to him.

Hoping that allowing her the freedom to explore his home would ease her distrust of him, he remained in the doorway, making no move to stop her.

She paused in front of a large, well-stocked bookcase. It contained everything from classics to the most current modern fiction. “Have you really read all of these books?”

“Yes.”

Surprise registered on her face. She turned to him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed.” She turned her attention to a wall with an assortment of photographs and plaques. The photographs were of him with Victor Thorton, Grand Duke of Thortonburg, and King Phillip of Wynborough, along with other members of their respective royal families. Inscriptions thanked him for his service. The plaques were special honors for bravery. There were also two glass shadow boxes with military medals, including two medals for valor. Clearly, she could see he was who he said he was.

She turned to him again. “You’ve had a very notable career.”

The stoic mask he had trained himself to always keep in place remained unchanged, but the honest admiration in her voice caused a surge of pleasure deep within. I’m merely relieved that she finally believes me, he told himself. Aloud, he said, “I take my duty very seriously.”

Victoria looked back at the photographs. His expression in each was the same one of cool command. Again, she turned back to him. “Do you ever smile?”

Lance knew others considered him a bit too grim, but he was comfortable with the path he’d chosen. Though many thought of him as cold and, perhaps, in some cases even unlikable, they always turned to him when they needed help. “Not when I’m on duty.”

Victoria continued to study him. “Maybe your muscles are already frozen in that position and you can’t smile.” She gulped, as if normally she was a bit more prudent than that.

Lance found himself having to fight to keep the corners of his mouth from tilting upward. “That is possible.”

Victoria saw the hint of amusement in his eyes. That he could laugh at himself made him seem a little less austere and certainly more human. In the next instant the amusement was gone, replaced by cool command. Clearly, he was intent on keeping any softer side of himself private. Heading to the door, she noticed that he stepped back immediately to allow her to exit.

“You have a very comfortable home,” she said, as she glanced into the kitchen, then continued on into the living room. “Definitely on the masculine side, but nice.”

Again Lance was surprised by how very pleased her approval made him. Long ago he’d stopped caring what other people thought and lived his life by his own personal code. “I hope that means you won’t mind spending a few days here, if that proves necessary.”

Victoria opened the French doors that led out onto a wide, screened-in porch facing the ocean. This was the kind of place she’d hoped to find for herself one day. But that was in the future. Right now she must deal with the present.

Although her body was still somewhat weak, the languid effect of the drugs on her mind had nearly worn off. At an early age, she had taken command of her life. It was time for her to take control again. “I hope you don’t take this wrong. Your home is very pleasant, your view is magnificent and you’ve been very kind, but I have a life to get back to. I took a leave of absence from my job because I felt the need to get away for a time. My mother’s death has been very difficult for me to accept. But I should be getting back before they decide to give my job to someone else.”