Such an easy obstacle in theory. But she knew well Merrick’s devotion to the English crown. His sense of duty ran deep. Add to that he had an English title and an obligation to his dead father to continue the line. The chances of him being willing to relinquish all of that, even for her, seemed nonexistent. Nor would she accept it.
She rose from her bed, shoving all thoughts of Merrick aside. Too much was at stake this day to allow her personal desires to interfere.
She was immediately besieged by a bevy of maids as she exited her bedchamber and walked into her sitting room. A flurry of activity erupted as they washed her, dressed her and did up her hair. As she sat before the vanity while they pinned the last of her curls, she ran her hands over the smooth silk of her dress.
“What time is the coronation?” she asked the lady who had temporarily been posted as her secretary.
“In three hours, Your Highness.”
Three hours. Plenty of time for her to breakfast with Merrick before the ceremony.
She turned to her secretary. “Arrange for my breakfast to be taken here in my private sitting room. Send word to Lord Merrick that I should like his presence.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Isabella dismissed her maids and waited impatiently for Merrick to arrive. Several minutes later, three members of the kitchen staff arrived with trays of food. She watched as they finished arranging the food then sat down, waiting for Merrick’s appearance.
Her head snapped up when the door opened, but her hopes were dashed when she saw her secretary reappear.
“I was unable to locate Lord Merrick, Your Highness. He was not in his chamber.”
She laughed nervously. “Perhaps he is breakfasting in the dining hall. Or maybe taking a walk about the gardens. Send one of the guards to search for him.”
She waited until the secretary left then slumped into an armchair. Where was he? She tried to calm her jittery nerves. There was no reason to assume the worst. But it stuck in her mind, refusing to be silent. Had he departed for England? Did he regret his words? Did he truly mean them?
Her fingers massaged her temples as the aching in her head increased. How could she rejoice in her success if Merrick wasn’t here to share it with her?
She leapt out of the chair when a knock sounded at the door. When she opened it, she saw the two guards posted outside cross their swords over the entry in a protective manner. A messenger stood before her, and he extended a missive to her.
“This just came for you, Your Highness.”
Attempting to mask her disappointment, she smiled and took the message from him. She retreated into her room and closed the door behind her.
She broke the wax seal and unrolled the letter, her eyes narrowing at the manner of address.
Interloper
You dare to intrude where you do not belong.
If you value the Englishman’s life you will
forego the coronation and come at once to
the Marble Cliffs. Come alone or the Englishman
will die.
It was unsigned. She stared in shock at the words, not fully comprehending them. Someone—who?—had Merrick.
“To me!” she cried out to her guards.
The door flew open and the two guards rushed in, their swords drawn.
“Find out if Montagne still resides in his cell,” she ordered. “I want the entire grounds searched for Lord Merrick. Report back to me at once with your findings.”
When the guards left, she summoned the maid who had helped her undress the previous evening. She directed her to find her a pair of breeches and a suitable shirt.
Not wasting precious time waiting on the maid to return, she quickly tore the dress and trappings from her body and waited in just her chemise for the clothing she had requested.
