Eloping with the Princess (Brotherhood of the Sword #3)(15)
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
He rubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t even know how to tell you this. Frankly, I don’t think I should be the one, but I’m all you’ve got right now. Have you ever heard of Saldania?”
She frowned. “I do not believe so.”
“It’s a small island nation off the coast of Wales. Their monarch was also in line for the English Crown. Seventeen years ago there was a coup and the entire royal family was murdered.”
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head and two loose curls fell onto her forehead. “What does this have to do with me?”
“One member of the family got off the island.” He looked at her face, and her mossy green eyes stared back at him. “Isabel, you are the lost princess of Saldania.”
Her brow furrowed. “What?” Her hand went to her throat, then she slowly shook her head. “No, that’s impossible.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I am no one. Discarded at a school.”
She wasn’t taking the news well, and he certainly couldn’t blame her. But he’d have to convince her, make her understand somehow the real danger she was in. “Do you have a birthmark on your hip? A wine-stain birthmark?”
Her hand absently went to her right hip. “How did you know?”
“Lynford said that every Saldanian royal for the last two hundred years has borne the mark. You have it, then?”
“Yes.” She was quiet for several moments. “This doesn’t make any sense. If I’m from this island, who smuggled me off while my family was murdered? How did I get here? How did I end up in Thornton’s care? Why was I in his care? Am I truly his niece?”
“All questions for later as I don’t have the answers.” He opened the small curtain on the carriage window a sliver. He needed to stay vigilant and watch for pursuers. “For now, we have to get out of London. Later, when we know you are safe, we can find out more about your situation and your family.” He wasn’t certain why he’d said “we” when he’d likely not be involved with her protection too much longer. Although he’d asked to continue protecting her, Jason knew that Potterfield would come up with a different solution should he require Jason elsewhere.
“Because people believe I’m this lost princess, they want to kill me?” Her frown deepened. “Are they the same people who killed my…the rest of the royal family?”
“Not exactly. People want to marry you to someone to form a powerful political union to overtake the monarchy here. They want Victoria out and you in.”
“They want me to be queen? That’s preposterous! And I certainly don’t want to do that.” She shook her head again. “Can we not simply pretend that I’m not the princess? That this is a case of mistaken identity? I mean, I don’t even know how to be a princess. I do not want to marry someone I don’t even know, especially for political reasons. I merely want to be Isabel Crisp.”
He had to stop himself before he reached out to touch her, to comfort her. He was protecting her and thus protecting Victoria. That was all this was about. He did not comfort people. “It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.” He peeked out the window of the carriage once more and noted it had started to rain. That would slow them down, but also make it more difficult for them to be followed. “These people are not to be reasoned with.”
…
Isabel leaned back against the carriage seat. For the second time in as many days, her eyes pricked with tears. She was not a crier, never had been. She simply absorbed whatever fate brought her and carried on with her life as usual. If things were particularly trying, she would simply work her body until she was so fatigued that sleep would engulf her. Back at St. Bart’s, she had spent plenty of time scrubbing the floors, and sometimes the walls, merely to distract herself into exhaustion. But this news, what could possibly distract her from such a revelation?
A princess.
She was a long-lost princess. How was that even possible? And although she didn’t remember her parents, she felt as if she’d just lost them. The realization that they’d been slaughtered seemed to make them real to her in a way they hadn’t been before. That was foolish, though. She couldn’t very well mourn people she hadn’t even known.
Not only that, but she didn’t know the first thing about being a princess, nor did she want to. She couldn’t be someone’s governess if she was a princess. Yet she had no throne, no money to speak of, at least as far as she knew. How had her entire life changed with one simple sentence?
You are the lost princess of Saldania.
As if that unlikely surprise didn’t complicate things enough, now someone wanted to marry her off in some political union. She knew that was the way things were done much of the time, a barter of land or funds for a better name or station in life. But she had always assumed her status as an illegitimate daughter of some unknown lord would protect her from such an arrangement. Her position in life had not offered her many advantages, but at least it had protected her from such machinations.
Yes, she wanted to get married, she’d always wanted to, to have her own family, but she’d thought those things out of her reach. Foolishly, though, she had always wished for a family life on her own terms. She’d thought her lack of status would enable her to marry for love, or at the very least friendship and companionship. It was nearly laughable. Perhaps someday she’d be able to enjoy a chuckle about the silly girl she’d been, believing she was an illegitimate daughter of some aristocratic parentage only to discover she was a princess.