The Duchess and Her Bodyguard

“No car?” Her eyebrows rose suspiciously.

“Not today. It’s in for repairs.” He handed her into the cab and directed the driver to Wal-Mart. The duchess looked annoyed when she walked in the door, but thank goodness she kept her thoughts to herself. If she didn’t know what Wal-Mart was, she was in for a surprise. “Anyway, Your Grace, after we get through shopping, we’ll probably get by more easily by taking the tourmobile around the mall.”

“Tourmobile? Mall?” The Duchess frowned. “They are not on my list.”

“Maybe not,” Wade replied. “But they are on mine.”

He had to give the duchess credit when she bit her bottom lip and silently browsed her way through racks of inexpensive brightly colored summer clothing.

May refused to let her temper show. She’d agreed to dress down but she wasn’t thrilled about the variety of choices. Designer clothing was more what she was accustomed to wearing. Still, an agreement was an agreement if it would get her to where she wanted to go.

She had put the National Portrait Gallery and a few well-known museums on her list to throw her escort off the track. The Capitol Hill District and its antique shops were surely someplace where she was sure she could lose herself, or maybe even the Morgan-Hill grunge shops. No matter how her escort might protest, she told herself, she intended to draw the line at stone monuments.

She had had it with men controlling her life. If the commander persisted in trying to control her, she would make his job very difficult. For these few days at least, it would be just a matter of time before she would be on her own and have a chance to be true to herself.

She hid her satisfaction as she browsed through the hanging racks. One by one she handed Wade a pair of size-six blue-denim slacks and an oversize sweatshirt with a U.S. flag and Washington, D.C., written across the front in large red, white and blue letters. When he silently pointed to her shoes, she bit her lower lip and headed for the shoe department to try on a pair of sturdy white athletic shoes.

“Anything else?”

Wade bit back a comment and motioned for her to wait while he checked out the dressing room. When he indicated the coast was clear, she sniffed and headed inside to change. But not before she threw him a look that conveyed her opinion of him. It wasn’t good.

With the duchess safely behind a closed door, Wade checked to make sure the Secret Service men were still in the vicinity. When he finally located the two in the sports department, he snorted his disgust. It was beginning to look as if the care and feeding of the duchess was largely going to be up to him.

Twenty minutes later the duchess finally emerged from the dressing room in her new clothing. To his relief, she wasn’t the duchess Mary Louise any longer. She was the woman he’d asked her to be. And a damn cute one at that.

“Is this dressed down enough for you?”

Lost in admiration, Wade silently nodded. With her chestnut hair curling loosely around her shoulders, she looked like a typical tourist, courtesy Wal-Mart. He knew, as sure as he knew his own name, as he checked her over, that even as May she would never be able to fade into the landscape.

Gowned in white chiffon or dressed in jeans and a garish sweatshirt no duchess would willingly wear, she was the most beautiful and desirable woman he’d ever met. For a moment he was taken aback. Then he reminded himself he was here as the duchess’s temporary escort and that his reactions were out of order.

He shrugged and, for a brief few moments, felt guilty. He watched her looking into a full-length mirror. Most women would have chewed him out by now for being so controlling. To add to his misgivings, behind the jeans and colorful sweatshirt there was something about the look in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as docile as she appeared to be. She would bear watching.

The Secret Service agents, back from checking out fishing rods, silently looked at each other.

Wade put the clothing the duchess had worn into the store into a shopping cart and headed for the checkout counters. The duchess, with the Secret Service trailing behind her, followed.

He might have been a success in creating the all-American girl next door, Wade thought in despair. But, heaven help him, the lady looked just as royal and just as unattainable as she’d been before.

Chapter Three

“This is the mall?” May clutched the only item from her original clothing choice Wade had allowed her to keep, her large straw bag. The rest of her possessions were locked in the trunk of the unmarked black sedan driven by the Secret Service and, to her disgust, was safely out of her reach. “I thought you meant a shopping mall!”

As if she’d said something amusing, Wade burst out laughing. “No, Your Grace, what you see is a lot more than that.” He motioned to the series of buildings in front of them. “Those are only a few of the Smithsonian museums. There are nine of them.”

“Museums,” May echoed faintly. She was tempted to tell him she’d visited dozens of museums and churches as part of her duties back home and wasn’t looking forward to spending time seeing any more. She shuddered. “You can’t possibly mean we’re going to visit all nine, do you?”

“No,” he looked at his watch. “We don’t have time. But maybe tomorrow. Today you can take your pick of the National Museum of American History, the Museum of Natural History, the National Gallery of Art or the Arts and Industry Museum—”

“Stop right there,” she commanded, peering at her escort. “You are joking, are you not?”

“Not at all,” he replied cheerfully, amused at her quaint manner of speech. “If these don’t appeal to you, there are a few more museums farther on that might interest you.”

“No, thank you.” May had to fight the urge to lose herself in the passing stream of tourists. If only she hadn’t outsmarted herself by wearing a garish sweatshirt bound to stand out in any crowd. “What else is on your list?”

Wade made a show of consulting a slip of paper he’d taken out of his jacket pocket. “We can take the trolley to the other end of the Mall and check out the Capitol Building, if you’re interested. Or grab a cab and visit the Jefferson Memorial. It’s beautiful, especially at dusk. I’m sure you’ll like it. In fact, the memorial is my personal favorite.”

“Maybe so,” May answered, her mind busy trying to find a way to lose her escort. “But dusk is a long way off. On second thought,” she added, “how about the National Portrait Gallery? It is somewhere around here, is it not?” With an excuse to use the ladies’ room she was sure she would be able to rid herself of the garish sweatshirt that marked her. Once out of her escort’s sight, and dressed like the average tourist, surely it would be easy to get lost in a crowd when he wasn’t looking.

He looked surprised. “You really want to visit the National Portrait Gallery?”

“Sure,” she said, pretending innocence. “It was on my list, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was,” Wade agreed, but he didn’t look convinced. “Frankly, I thought you only put it on the list to throw me off.”

“You don’t trust me?” She widened her eyes and tried to look innocent.

“Ask me no questions…” His voice trailed off.

May winced as she remembered the universally well-known finish of the saying:…and I’ll tell you no lies.

She managed to look wounded, her mind made up. What had put Wade on to her, anyway? She had told the truth. Even if there was an ulterior motive behind it.

“Let us go,” she said with a tight smile. “According to you, my life could be in danger, so do not forget to call me May in public.”

Wade smothered a reply. Her facetious response told him she wasn’t aware of any possible danger to her or she wouldn’t be taking things so casually. How could he protect her when she didn’t think she needed to be protected? And especially when she was obviously bent on having her way, one way or another?

He silently cursed the undersecretary of the navy for involving him in the current scenario. And with a secret that should never have been kept from the person at risk. Without her cooperation, his assignment was much riskier.

All the more reason to protect the lady from herself.

“Let’s go.” He took her arm but not before glancing behind him for the two Secret Service agents who should have been there but were not.

It looked as if, for now at least, he and the duchess were on their own.

He picked up a couple of brochures on the way into the gallery and handed one to the duchess. “Everything around you is a portrait or possession of an American who contributed in some way to our country.” He pointed out well-known portraits and memorabilia in glass cases that dated back to the eighteenth century. “Take your pick.”

She studied the brochure he handed her and moved down the room. He had to give her credit for being a good sport, but after about forty portraits he noticed her attention was flagging. “Want a break?” he asked sympathetically.

“I could use a chance to freshen up,” she said as they passed the door to a ladies’ room. Before he could reply, she disappeared behind the mahogany door.

After making sure there was only one way in and out of the rest room, Wade lounged alongside the door. While something told him she had something up her sleeve, surely a stop at the ladies’ room was no big deal.

But what was a big deal was that he had an uneasy feeling they’d been followed. He gazed at his surroundings. Crowds of people, families with children and, from the sound of conversation, a number of foreign visitors. So far, so good.

He finally spotted the two Secret Service agents covertly studying a burly, dark-haired man down the hall. Maybe it was the sight of the man that made the hackles rise on the back of his neck, but there was something definitely going on. He was debating moving away from the rest room door to confront the man when he disappeared. The Secret Service agents with him.

Uneasy, Wade vowed to be extra watchful from here on out. And not to let the intriguing and conniving duchess, or anyone else, distract him from his duty to protect her.