Romancing The Crown: Lorenzo and Anna: The Man Who Would Be King / The Princess And The Mercenary

The king didn’t say a word. His expression as hard as granite, he shot Eliza a look that would have had a lesser woman shaking in her shoes. “We gave this to our son for Christmas last year. Where did you get it?”

“From a man named Willy Cranshaw,” she replied. “He found it in the woods in Colorado…near an abandoned campsite about five miles from the crash site.”

“You think Lucas dropped it there?” the queen asked, brushing away the tears that spilled from her eyes. “That he somehow survived the crash? All this time when we thought he was dead, you think he’s been wandering around the mountains? Is that what you’re saying?”

Eliza would have bet everything she owned that that was exactly what happened, but she couldn’t prove it. And until she could, she wouldn’t give the queen false hope. “I don’t know, Your Highness. I just know that the scarf didn’t walk away from the crash site on its own.”

She was trying to be cautious, but she might as well have saved her breath. The king and queen exchanged a long look, and suddenly they were in each other’s arms, laughing and crying and dancing with joy.

“He must be alive, Gwen!” the king laughed joyfully. “Can you believe it? After all this time, he’s really alive!”

Ecstatic, he whirled her around, then kissed her soundly, not caring who saw. “I have to tell Lorenzo,” he exclaimed, “so he can reopen the investigation. And the girls! They’re going to be thrilled. Rudy?” he yelled, all dignity gone as he glanced around for his personal servant. “I need you, man. Where are you?”

“Here, Your Highness,” the older man said quietly as he stepped into the room.

Surprising the older man, the king embraced him like a brother. “Lucas is alive, Rudy!”

To his credit, Rudy admitted that he’d already heard the news. “Ms. Windmere said that he was, Your Highness, but I thought she was another fortune hunter. Forgive me, Miss,” he told her solemnly. “But I couldn’t take any chances.”

“It’s okay,” she replied with an easy smile. “I know you were only doing your job.”

Pleased by both his old friend’s honesty and Eliza’s response, the king patted him on the shoulder. “Go get Lorenzo for me. He needs to know about this so we can reopen the investigation.”

At the mention of the duke’s name, Eliza stiffened. No! she wanted to cry. Don’T Bring Him In On This! But even as she bit back the words, she knew she was going to have to deal with the duke whether she liked it or not. He was, after all, the head of Royal Intelligence and had been in charge of the search for the prince from the moment his plane had gone down. Of course the king would want him to know about the scarf.

“Please sit down, Eliza and tell us everything,” the queen said, motioning her over to the pretty cream-colored couch and wing chairs that flanked the marble fireplace, which was the focal point of the room. “I know you said Mr. Cranshaw found Lucas’s scarf near a campsite in the mountains, but can you give us all the details you know?”

“Did he find anything else?” the king asked as he joined his wife on the couch and Eliza sank into one of the comfortable chairs. “Was there any way to tell if Lucas was hurt? Where has he been all this time? Why hasn’t he called? Doesn’t he know we’re worried about him?”

Hesitating, Eliza didn’t quite know how to answer that. As far as she was concerned, the very fact that Prince Lucas hadn’t notified his family that he was alive said a lot about his mental state, but that was strictly her opinion. She wasn’t a doctor and wasn’t about to comment on the prince’s mental or physical condition to his worried parents. So she avoided the issue and turned the conversation back to what she did know.

“Willy found the scarf at an abandoned campsite in a remote area up in the mountains. He couldn’t tell how long the prince stayed there—if it was just overnight or possibly longer, but someone had stayed long enough to build a campfire. As for the scarf, we don’t know if the prince dropped it or just forgot it, but it was on a log near the campfire.”

“Do you trust this Cranshaw fellow?” the king asked with a frown. “What do you know about him? Could he have found the scarf at the crash site and just made this all up so we would think Lucas is still alive? There are sick people out there who get their kicks doing that kind of thing, you know,” he told her grimly. “Gwendolyn and I found that out after Lucas turned up missing. Unfortunately, we live in a twisted world.”

“Willy has his moments,” she said honestly, “but I trust him. He’s not lying about where he found the scarf. He wouldn’t do that.”

She would have said more, but Duke Lorenzo arrived then, and the second he saw her sitting with the king and queen, he stiffened, his sharp green eyes dark with irritation as they locked with hers. Ignoring his aunt and uncle, he growled, “I don’t know what the devil you think you’re doing, but you’re not getting away with it.” Striding over to the chair where she sat, he grabbed her arm. “C’mon, you’re leaving. And this time, I’ll make sure you don’t sneak back in.”

Shocked, Queen Gwendolyn cried, “Lorenzo! What in heaven’s name has gotten into you? Eliza has brought us news of Lucas. Stop that!” she cried when he hauled Eliza to her feet. “Have you lost your mind? You know better than to treat a guest that way!”

“She’s just a reporter looking for headlines,” he retorted with a scowl. “Don’t believe anything she says. I caught her wandering the halls earlier and had Rudy escort her out of the building, but I guess she found a way to break back in.”

“She didn’t break in,” his uncle said, frowning. “We invited her in. She has news of Lucas. He’s alive. Look.” Holding out the scarf to him, he made no attempt to blink back the tears that pooled in his eyes. “This was found five miles from the crash site, Lorenzo. At an abandoned campsite,” he added huskily. “Can you believe it? He must be alive!”

Seeing the hope in his uncle’s and aunt’s eyes, Lorenzo wanted more than anything to believe that his cousin had somehow survived the plane crash. But how could he? It had been a year. If Lucas had walked away from the crash, where had he been for the past year? Where was he now? And even though he knew in a glance that the scarf Marcus held was Lucas’s, how much stock could he put in the word of an American reporter who no doubt lived and died by the outrageous headlines she wrote?

“I think it’s a little too early to jump to that conclusion,” he told Marcus stiffly. “This woman is a reporter. She’s just looking for a sensational story.”

“I am not!”

“She writes a gossip column about royalty,” he continued, ignoring her indignant cry. “I thought her name sounded familiar when I ran into her in the hall, so I did a little investigating. She writes for the Denver Sentinel, and she prides herself on beating the competition to a story. She’ll go to any lengths to get material for her column.”

“I don’t lie!”

“No? So you’re going to stand there and say Count Baldwin really had a child with his governess?” he taunted, referring to a twenty-five-year-old English count who had a reputation for being as pious as a monk. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. The woman’s fifteen years his senior!”

“And a paternity test proved the child was his,” she retorted. “If you don’t believe me, I have a copy of the test results back in my office in Denver. I’ll send it to you when I get back home.”

Her blue eyes sparking fire at him, she dared him to top that, and with nothing more than that little act of defiance, she set his teeth on edge. And for the life of him, Lorenzo didn’t know why. He liked women and enjoyed their company. He didn’t usually get short with them, let alone hostile, especially with someone he didn’t even know, but there was something about this little redhead that rubbed him the wrong way.

“The point is,” he said through his teeth, “that that was a private situation that you had no business exposing. You have no boundaries, and neither does the paper you write for.”

“Oh, really?” she snapped. “Then if I’m the monster you think I am, why did I even bother to come all this way in the first place? I certainly didn’t need anyone’s permission to write this story. I had the scarf and knew where it came from. I could have splashed pictures of it all over the front page and let the wire services pick it up. Wouldn’t that have been a nice way for the king and queen to find out their son was alive? They could have read all about it in the papers.”

Far from impressed, he laughed shortly. “Yeah, right! That sounds good, but I’m not buying it. You saw a bigger story and you came after it.”

Expecting her to deny it, she caught him off guard when she admitted the truth without batting an eye. “Of course I want the bigger story! Unlike you, Your Grace, I don’t have a trust fund or a king for an uncle. I work for a living and I make no apologies for that. That doesn’t make me a bad person…or unprincipled. If I had lost a son, I wouldn’t want to learn that he was alive by reading it in the paper. That’s why I’m here.”

With that, a heavy silence fell, and her sincerity seemed to echo throughout the room. Suddenly realizing what he’d said to her in the heat of his anger, Lorenzo felt like a heel. “If I misjudged you, I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “But I still don’t trust you.”

“Don’t shoot her, Lorenzo,” his aunt said with a smile. “She’s just the messenger, and she’s brought amazing news. Why should we begrudge her a story? What’s important here is that Lucas is alive. We’ve waited a year for this day. Now we have to figure out a way to find him.”

“That’s right,” King Marcus said. “I’m reopening the investigation.”

Relieved, Eliza considered childishly sticking her tongue out at the duke—it was no more than he deserved. If she’d known just how arrogant he was, she wouldn’t have been nearly as complimentary of him as she had been in her columns all these years. Irritating man. It would serve him right if the king gave him a royal dressing-down.

But instead of chastising him, the king said, “Eliza got the scarf from a man named Willy Cranshaw, who found it in the mountains in Colorado. I want you to return to America with her and talk to this man. He may be able to tell you something else that will lead us to Lucas.”

Stunned, Eliza couldn’t believe she’d heard him correctly. After all the awful things Lorenzo had said to her, the king actually expected her to travel all the way back to Colorado with him? “What? Oh, no! He can’t.”

“He has to, dear,” the queen replied. “He can’t very well carry on the investigation from here. And you did say you wanted to help us find Lucas,” she reminded her. “Here’s your chance.”

“But you don’t understand,” she protested. “Willy won’t talk to him.”

“He’s in charge of the investigation,” the king said with a frown. “He has to talk to him.”

If she’d been dealing with anyone but royalty, Eliza would have laughed. How did she explain Willy to people who only had to snap their fingers to have anything in the world they wanted? They lived in a palace, for heaven’s sake! How could they possibly comprehend a man who avoided other people like the plague and lived in a shack that looked like it was going to fall down about his ears any moment?

“Willy’s different,” she said. “He fought in Vietnam, and it must have done something to his mind. He’s a little squirrelly.”

Queen Gwendolyn lifted a delicately arched brow. “Are you saying he’s crazy?”

“No, actually, I think he’s quite sane,” she replied. “I guess the best way to describe him is eccentric. He doesn’t trust many people. He sees intruders in the shadows, and he’s called the police so many times that they put him on hold whenever they recognize his voice. That’s why he called me when he found Prince Lucas’s scarf. I’m the only one who’ll listen to him.”

“Lorenzo will listen to him.”

“I’m sure he will. The problem is Willy won’t talk to him. He won’t talk to anyone but me.”

“I knew it!” Lorenzo snorted in disdain. “This is nothing but a scam.” Turning to his aunt and uncle, he said, “Can’t you see she’s just stringing you along? How do we know this Willy character even exists? She could have made this all up, bought the scarf over the Internet and trampled it in the dirt to make it look like it had been in the weather.”

Indignant, Eliza snapped, “And why would I do such a thing? For a story? According to you, there is no story. And that would come out soon enough if I tried to slip something so outrageous past my readers. I’d lose my job, and I’m not going to risk that for a story that doesn’t exist.”

“Then tell us more about Mr. Cranshaw,” the queen said. “If he truly does exist, Lorenzo really needs to meet with him. There might be something he didn’t think to tell you about the scarf that could lead us to Lucas.”

She had a point, one Eliza couldn’t disagree with. But they were talking about Willy, for God’s sake! How in the world was she going to get him to cooperate? If he got it in his head that the duke was suspicious of him, he might take off up into the mountains because he was afraid he was going to be arrested or something, and there was no telling how long he’d be gone.

“Willy is a hermit, Your Highness. I can’t predict how he will react to Duke Lorenzo—or me, for that matter, if I introduce them. But I’ll try,” she promised. “I came here because I truly believe Prince Lucas is alive. I’ll do anything I can to help find him.”

“For a price,” Duke Lorenzo said dryly. “You want the story.”

“I already have the story,” she reminded him. “I’ll admit that I would love an exclusive, but whether the king grants me that or not, I’ll do whatever I can to help find Prince Lucas. That’s the real story here.”

“I agree,” King Marcus said in a tone that warned them that he had had enough of their bickering. “The only thing of importance is finding Lucas. You can’t do that from here, Lorenzo. Not when he may be wandering around the mountains of Colorado, lost and confused and no doubt suffering from some serious injuries. So I’m reopening the investigation and sending you home with Eliza.”

“What?!”

“Your Highness, Duke Lorenzo doesn’t need me to show him the way to Colorado.”

“That’s true,” he replied, his lips twitching. “But he needs you to take him to Willy. And you did say you would help in any way you could. You meant that, didn’t you?”

Trapped, Eliza could hardly add that her help didn’t include doing any favors for the duke. She’d just have to bite her tongue and learn to tolerate him, like it or not. After all, it wasn’t as if she was going to have to spend weeks at a time with the man. The minute they reached Denver, she’d arrange a meeting with Willy, and drive him out to his place. Willy, of course, wouldn’t have anything to do with him, and that would be that. The Duke would admit defeat and fly back home, end of story.

So what was she worried about? She might have to spend another twenty-four hours in the duke’s company? If she couldn’t handle that in order to get a story, she had no right being in the newspaper business.

“Of course I meant it,” she said quietly. “I’ll call Willy as soon as we get back to Denver and set up a meeting.”

Pleased, he smiled. “Then it’s settled. You and Lorenzo will work together. Between the two of you, with your investigative skills and his years in intelligence, you’re bound to find Lucas.”

Lorenzo wasn’t too sure of that—the prince had been missing for a year and could be anywhere!—but at the moment, the king had another pressing problem to handle. Down the hall, family and new allies were waiting for him to announce his successor. Now that there was a strong possibility that Lucas was alive, that announcement would, of course, be put on hold.

“For the moment, I think it would be wise if you didn’t say anything specific about this new evidence, Your Highness,” Lorenzo said quietly. “Just as a precaution.”

“I agree,” he replied solemnly. “Lucas obviously isn’t himself or he would have been in touch with us by now, so we must do what we can to protect him.” Turning his attention back to Eliza, he gave her a hard look. “I need your word that you won’t reveal my son’s whereabouts until he is safe, Eliza. If you can’t do that and still write your story, then I need to know now.”

Eliza didn’t pretend to misunderstand what he was saying. If she couldn’t promise to write the story the way the king wanted, there would be no exclusive. “I like to think I’m a responsible reporter, Your Highness. I believe in freedom of the press, but I also realize that what I write can have repercussions. I don’t like withholding information from my readers, but in this case, I agree that there is a need to protect the prince as much as possible. What I’d like to do is write a feature story on him—his life, and hopefully, his rescue. The search for him will have to be included in that, of course, but the story won’t be printed until after Prince Lucas is back home, safe and sound.”

“And your editor will agree to this?”

Simon would have a stroke, but that was something she had no intention of telling the royals. “He won’t like it,” she said honestly. “He would much rather cover the search as it’s happening, but he’ll accept whatever terms I agree to.” He had to. She was writing the story. He couldn’t force her to divulge anything she didn’t want to. “I give you my word that I won’t write anything that will place the Prince in danger.”

Considering that, the king glanced at the queen. “What do you think, sweetheart? Should we even consider giving anyone an exclusive at this point? We have to do what’s right for Lucas.”

Before she could respond, Lorenzo said, “Then the real question here is whether you can trust a woman you don’t know from Adam. She’s a reporter. She has her own agenda.”

Her eyes flashing with irritation, Eliza didn’t say a word in her own defense. How could she? He was right. She was a reporter and she did have her own agenda—she wanted a story that would rock the world back on its heels. That didn’t mean, however, that she was a liar.

“We all have our own agenda,” Queen Gwendolyn replied. “I want my son back, and just this morning, I didn’t think that was possible. Thanks to Eliza, now I do.”

Turning to Lorenzo, she said, “So the answer to your question is yes, I think we can trust her. By granting her an exclusive, it’s in her best interest to keep Lucas’s whereabouts a secret. Not only will she have more to write about, but she’ll protect her source so someone else won’t find him before we do and steal the story right out from under her.”

“I agree,” the king said. “Eliza will do the right thing. The exclusive is hers. Lorenzo, find my son for me.”

“I’ll do my best, Your Highness.”

“I know you will,” he said gruffly. “Now that that’s settled, I have an announcement to make. I’ve kept my guests waiting long enough.”

Only he and the queen knew for sure who he had chosen to succeed him, and that was information they chose to keep to themselves. Watching them stride out, Eliza couldn’t help but envy Lorenzo as he joined them. Given the chance, she would have found a way to follow them, but before she could even think about moving, Rudy stepped into the doorway, blocking her path.

“Duke Lorenzo will meet you at the airport for your return flight to the United States. You do not need to make flight arrangements, as you’ll be traveling on one of the king’s private jets,” he informed her. “The king has ordered a car to drive you there now.”

When he motioned for her to proceed him out another door across the room, she could hardly take offense. What did she care if she missed out on the king’s announcement? She had the real story. The prince was alive, and she had an exclusive! Life didn’t get any better than that.

With every tick of the clock, the volume of the conversation in the throne room seemed to escalate as more and more guests speculated about the growing lateness of the hour and the king’s tardiness. Standing off to the side of the podium that had been set up earlier for the king’s announcement, Kyle Ramsey could well understand the concerned whispers being bandied about by the other guests. The king, as a rule, was generally a punctual man. Unlike some men of power, he respected other people’s time as much as he did his own. He wouldn’t be this late unless something was seriously wrong.

“What do you think’s going on?” his brother, Tyler, asked as he propped a shoulder against a pillar and studied the crowd with watchful eyes. “Something’s happened.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “but I don’t like it.”

He had just cause to be concerned. Last year, as a top gun pilot and newly recruited member of the Noble Men, a covert team of peacekeepers that traveled the world protecting women and children, he had, along with the rest of the team, helped restore relations between Montebello and its neighbor, Tamir, after a century-long feud. Peace in the region was of utmost importance, and for the past few weeks, he’d been training his brother to help with the monitoring of the skies over the eastern Mediterranean. When they’d received an invitation to the palace to witness the king’s announcement of his new heir, Kyle had assumed the invitation was just a matter of courtesy. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Before he could start to worry about what was going on, there was a stir at the door and the king and queen entered, followed by their nephew, Duke Lorenzo. Considering the fact that with the naming of a successor, the king was virtually acknowledging the death of his son, Kyle was surprised to see him smiling. He’d expected the meeting to be tense and tearful. Instead, King Marcus was almost beaming as he moved to the podium.

Silence fell over the elegant confines of the throne room. “I apologize for the delay,” the king said, greeting his elite group of guests with an easy smile. “First, I would like to thank you all for coming. As you must all know by now, I invited you here to name my successor to the throne.”

The guests exchanged speaking glances, and suddenly, there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Who would be king? The question seemed to float around the room, but if the king noticed, he gave no sign of it. Still smiling, he held out his hand to the queen, and with a love that lit up her entire face, she moved to his side.

Together, they faced their family, friends and allies. “As you all know, the past year has not been easy for us,” King Marcus continued. “Queen Gwendolyn and I both believed with all our hearts that Prince Lucas was alive, but with each passing day, it was harder to hang on to hope. Eventually, we reached a point where we had to face the fact that life had to go on. I had to have an heir. Choosing someone to succeed me other than my son was not something I was looking forward to. Now, thankfully, it turns out that I don’t have to.”

When a collective gasp rose from his guests, he had to smile. “No, it’s not quite what you think. We haven’t found Prince Lucas…yet. But there are some new developments in the case, and although I’m not at liberty to tell you what they are at this time, the queen and I wanted you to know that we have high hopes that he will be back with us soon. Thank you all for coming. You’ll never know what your prayers and support have meant to us.”

Chapter 3

With the king and queen’s exit, silence fell like a shroud, and for what seemed like an eternity, the guests just stood there, unable to believe the sudden turn of events. Then, an invisible switch seemed to be flicked, and in the next breath, everyone was talking at once.

“Can you believe that?” Hassan Kamal exclaimed. “Talk about timing!”

“I personally find it a little too convenient,” Butrus Dabir replied, his hawklike features hard with suspicion. “Think about it. The prince has been missing for a full year, then the very day the king is prepared to announce a successor, suddenly there’s some mysterious news that he may be alive, after all. Obviously, he doesn’t want to name Princess Julia and Sheik Rashid as his successors.”