private firm? Hmm.” The king rubbed his chin. “A firm outside of Orlantha? Yes, yes. A trusted firm with operatives who know how to keep their mouths shut.”
“I will make some discreet inquiries, sire, and have suggestions for you within the hour.” The colonel bowed.
King Leopold waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, go. Now. And hurry. We have no time to lose.” The minute the colonel bowed again and then exited the chambers, the king turned to Lord Burhardt. “Issue a statement that the princess has the flu and is confined to her quarters. Contact Dr. Latimer and instruct him to come to the palace this morning.”
Lord Burhardt bowed, clicked his heels and left. Lisa waited, praying the king would dismiss her. She needed to contact Pippin Ritter as soon as possible to tell him where the princess was and to pass along the information she’d left for him.
The king slumped down on a huge, ornate chair by the fireplace. The queen came to him, leaned over the chair and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“Please rest, my dear.” Queen Muriel patted her husband tenderly. “Adele will be found and returned home. All will be well.”
The king glanced at Lisa. “She told me that she didn’t love Dedrick. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Some romantic nonsense. I assured her that she would grow to care for Dedrick. The man has several sterling qualities. He’s intelligent, quick-witted, charming, and his bloodlines are pure. I refuse to believe that it’s anything more than prewedding jitters with Adele.”
Lisa remained quiet, aware that she had no right to voice an opinion. She thought Dedrick was only fairly intelligent, and he was seldom charming except when in the king’s presence. Those who knew him well were aware that he drank to excess, gambled and womanized. Hardly sterling qualities.
“Adele told me some ludicrous story about suspecting Dedrick of treason,” the king said. “She thinks he’s one of those damn Royalists who wants us to reunite with Balanchine. I told her there was no point in her fabricating lies about him.”
“Sire, what if…what if they aren’t lies?” Lisa expected an outraged cry from the king, but instead he simply stared at her as if she were speaking in an alien tongue.
“You’re dismissed,” the king said. “If you hear from Adele… Never mind. She won’t telephone the palace.”
Lisa curtsied, then fled as quickly as possible. Once securely locked in her private quarters in the princess’s wing of the palace, she used her cell phone to contact Vice Chancellor Ritter. He needed to know what had happened and that the princess would be sending and receiving messages through her friend, Dia Constantine.
Adele sipped at the pink champagne as she lounged in the drawing room of Chateau Gustel thirty kilometers outside Vienna. The house and grounds would be considered large by most people’s standards, but in comparison to the palace and royal grounds in Erembourg, the estate was rather small. But it was quite comfortable, with an adequate staff. And Yves had been utterly charming these past three days. They’d had such fun flying off to Paris yesterday for a divine shopping spree. No one had had any idea that the kooky redhead on Yves’s arm was actually the princess of Orlantha. Being incognito was proving to be amazingly exciting. But she couldn’t hide out here with Yves indefinitely. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered her whereabouts. But for now she was safe. Living outside Orlantha, there wasn’t much she could do to help Pippin and his trusted colleagues in their quest to find evidence against Dedrick. But she could buy them all some time by stopping the wedding or at least postponing it until she could show her father hard proof of Dedrick’s disloyalty.
Yves breezed into the room, a newspaper under his arm and a quirky smile on his handsome face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You have a silly expression on your face.”
“We’ve been found out,” he replied.
“What?” Adele spilled a drop of champagne on her silk trousers as she rose from the settee.
Yves opened the paper and read to her, “Rumor has it that Princess Adele of Orlantha, reported to be in bed with the flu at the palace in Erembourg, is in actuality cavorting about Paris with none other than that bon vivant Yves Jurgen. Now, why would the engaged princess be traveling with a man other than her fiancé, Dedrick Vardan, Duke of Roswald?” Yves sighed dramatically. “The article goes on and on, but you get the idea. I’m afraid we’ve blown your cover, chère.”
“That means it’s only a matter of time before someone figures out I’m here in Vienna with you.”
“We can pack our bags and head out for the Riviera whenever you say. This evening. Tomorrow.”
Adele shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. Everyone in Europe knows you. And apparently they recognize me, even in a red wig. I’m less likely to be recognized if I’m alone.”
Yves tsk-tsked. “I hate the idea of your being out there alone. What will you do if—”
“I’ll make arrangements to fly to Golnar in the morning,” Adele said. “I’ll phone Dia to let her know I’ll need sanctuary with Theo and her a little sooner than I’d planned.”
“I’ll be sad to see you leave, dear heart. You’re such an entertaining companion.” Yves popped Adele gently on the nose. “I had made plans for us to meet some trusted friends for an intimate dinner tonight, but—”
“Don’t change your plans,” she told him. “I’ll be busy packing and preparing for my trip to Golnar.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind? If you’d rather I stay here with you, I’ll be more than glad to cancel.”
“I’ll be perfectly all right here,” she told him. “At least for tonight. I doubt that anyone on my father’s staff will be able to come up with the information about this estate in the next twenty-four hours. After all, the place still belongs to your cousin Jules, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but how did you know the chateau wasn’t mine?”
“Because, Yves, my wicked friend, we both know that you have no money of your own and depend on relatives and wealthy older ladies to support you.”
Yves clutched his chest and groaned. “I have shared too many of my secrets with you, chère.”
“And I with you.”
Grinning, Yves lifted her hand and kissed it. “Then it is good that we trust each other, is it not?”
Dedrick rolled over in bed and stretched. The loud banging on the door had awakened him from a peaceful sleep. The voluptuous creature lying next to him roused, eased out of bed, slipped on a silk robe and headed for the door.
“Ask who it is,” Dedrick told Vanda. “I can’t have anyone finding me here.”
“Don’t worry,” Vanda said, a devilish smile on her pretty face. “You can hide under the covers.”
She cracked the door a fraction and peered through the opening. Before she could stop the man, he shoved the door open wide and knocked her aside as he entered her room at Madame Pellonia’s, the most exclusive brothel in all of Orlantha.
“You fool!” the man shouted at Dedrick. “What if someone sees you here? Then the whole world will know why the princess doesn’t want to marry you.”
Dedrick rose from the bed leisurely, totally unconcerned with his friend’s outrage. “You worry too much.”
The intruder glowered at Vanda. “Leave us!”
Vanda frowned and looked to Dedrick for instructions.
He waved a dismissal. “Go. Go.”
Vanda huffed, then stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Dedrick dressed, taking his time as his friend glared