"I may need my jewelry to pay for Wagner's damages," Gliana replied.
"Then you'll definitely be securing your undergarments in the safe, because you won't be needing them."
Giana refastened her bodice and turned to face the vicar.
They exchanged rings. Adam placed the black pearl ring on I lie third finger of George's left hand and she placed the State Seal of Karolya on Adam's finger.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Giana had told Max of her decision to give the State Seal to Adam for safekeeping, while they were waiting in the wine cellar for Adam to arrive, but Max still paled when she placed it on his finger. Giana glanced at her Lord Chamberlain and feared he might faint.
"It's all right, Max," Adam assured him. "I'll give it back to her when she asks for it. And I'll die before I'll allow Victor to get his hands on it." He grinned at Max. "And if I die, George will be a widow and Karolya will be safe from an American usurper."
"That may be sooner than you think."
Wagner growled low in his throat and moved to stand beside Giana.
Adam and Giana whirled around. Prince Victor and Lord Marshfeld stood in the doorway, pistols in their hands.
"Prince Victor, I presume," Adam drawled insolently.
"In the flesh," Victor retorted. "And you must be Adam McKendrick." He turned his cold gaze on Giana. "Congratulations, Cousin, you nearly succeeded in outmaneuvering me."
"I have outmaneuvered you," Giana cried. "Adam and I are married."
"Not quite."
She gasped as Victor aimed the small silver pistol at her.
Adam moved to stand in front of Giana, but Victor stopped him. "I'll kill her," he warned, moving the derringer closer to Giana to show that he was serious.
"You can't kill her," Adam growled. "You need her."
"I did need her," Victor admitted, "before I met your sister. Now, all I need is the Seal of State. Hand it over."
"What does my sister have to do with this?" Adam demanded.
"She bears a strong resemblance to the princess, does she not? Strong enough to fool the Karolyan people from a distance," Victor said. "And luckily for me, the altar of the Christianberg cathedral is a long way from the pews. Once she dons a veil no one will know the difference."
"I will know the difference," Giana snapped.
"And so will I," Kirstin cried, tears starting to run down her face.
"It won't matter," Victor told them. "Because you'll be dead," he nodded toward Giana. "And you will be within my reach." He nodded at Kirstin, who shuddered.
Adam studied the prince regent. He was shorter than George by an inch or two and although there was a family resemblance, Prince Victor's looks were a pale imitation of his cousin's. Adam snorted in contempt. Prince Victor was dressed in an immaculate uniform complete with dress sword, but his only distinctive feature was the dueling scar that bisected his cheek.
Adam tensed, every muscle ready to spring, as Victor cocked the hammer of the derringer.
Wagner reacted instantly, leaping at Prince Victor's wrist. Adam followed on his heels.
Victor fired as the dog reached him. Wagner yelped in pain as the first shot grazed his side and Adam swore as the second one burned a path across his upper arm.
"Adam!" Giana screamed and rushed toward the fighting. "Wagner!"
Victor shoved Giana aside and pulled his sword. "Come, McKendrick!" Victor taunted. "I'll slice you to ribbons."
"I'm unarmed," Adam told him. "Will that even the odds for you?"
Victor glanced at Max. "Give him your sword."
Max looked to Adam for confirmation.
Adam nodded. "Give me your sword, Max."
Max unsheathed his sword and handed it Adam.
Adam glanced at O'Brien. "Whatever happens, remember your promise." Turning back to Victor, Adam invited, "Shall we?"
Although dueling was forbidden under English law, Scottish law prevailed. "If you're ready to die," Victor replied.
Victor backed out of the clubhouse and onto the lawn. Adam followed.
"Keep her safe," Adam ordered.
"No!" Giana protested, but O'Brien did as Adam ordered.
"Come with me, ma'am," O'Brien told her. "He has to know you're safe or he won't be able to defend himself." Giana resisted, but Murphy hooked an arm around Giana's waist and lifted her bodily out of the main room and carried her down to the wine cellar, then he went back for Kirstin, who was weeping noisily, and the wolfhound. The rest of the household, with the exception of Max, followed.
"Wagner?" Giana sucked in a ragged breath as O'Brien carried the wolfhound down to the wine cellar and placed him on the stone floor. He took off his jacket and placed it under Wagner's head while Isobel inspected the wound.
"He'll be fine, Your Highness," Isobel told her. "The ball scraped his ribs, but it didn't enter."
Reassured that Wagner would live, Giana rushed to the small cellar window, frantically looking for Adam.
"Give me the seal, McKendrick," Victor ordered, "and I'll kill you and my cousin quickly."
"You won't kill us at all," Adam retorted.
"I'll kill you," Victor boasted. "I am an expert swordsman."
"Good for you." Adam sneered. "Because you're a lousy shot." Adam knew he was taking a chance in taunting Victor. He wasn't a fool. He'd understood the significance of the dueling scar on Victor's cheek, but he wasn't a novice. He'd studied fencing during his tour of Europe. Only this time, they would be fencing with swords instead of foils and to the death instead of until first blood. Adam had no doubt about that. Victor would give no quarter. "Choose your second."
"Marshfeld." Adam's brother-in-law stepped up and accepted the role of Prince Victor's second.
"Be careful of the company you keep, Marshfeld," Adam warned. "Live by the sword. Die by the sword."
"I will serve as McKendrick's second." The earl of Bascombe stood at Adam's side.
"En garde!” Victor shouted the traditional warning, seconds before he attacked.
Adam reacted quickly as the blade of Prince Victor's sword sliced through his jacket and barely missed cutting into his side. He was bleeding in a dozen places within minutes. Christ! A gun would have been better. He was a good shot and he'd have a better chance. And having Victor shoot him was preferable to being sliced to ribbons.
"Adam!" Lord Bascombe shouted. "Don't try to overpower him. Dance with him. Listen to me. Thrust! Parry! Feint! Move!" Bascombe called out the commands, desperately trying to anticipate Victor's moves, in order to keep his only son from being sliced to bits.
"O'Brien! Do something! Victor is killing him!" Giana could feel Murphy struggling with his promise to keep her safe and his anguish for Adam, and she knew she could no longer just stand by and wait for Adam to die. Before Murphy could react, Giana reached inside Murphy's jacket, grabbed his gun and began firing at the two men dueling on the lawn.
"Son of a bitch!" Adam shouted as a shot glanced off his thigh.
Victor roared in pain as a shot hit him high in the shoulder.
Giana cringed when she realized that she'd accidentally shot her husband, but gave a triumphant little squeal when her next shot found a mark on Victor's shoulder. She turned the gun on O'Brien. "Let me out of this room."
"I can't," he said, simply. "Adam will kill me." "I will kill you if you do not," she retorted. "For if we do not stop him, Victor will kill Adam."
Hands slippery from the blood running down his arms, Adam lost his grip on the sword hilt and dropped his weapon. It was over. He had failed her and now he was about to pay for that failure with his life. Thank God for O'Brien. He would take care of Giana. He would make certain Giana gained her throne.
But Giana wasn't safe. Adam looked up and saw her running across the green, a silver Colt revolver in her hands.
"Roll!" Bascombe ordered, snatching up Adam's sword.
Bascombe blocked Victor's thrust and another as Adam rolled out of danger. But Victor
outmaneuvered the earl on the third thrust and the blade sliced into his shoulder.
"Move!" This time, Adam shouted the warning to his father. He drew his revolver and fired as Victor lifted his sword for a final thrust. Giana did the same. She raised O'Brien's gun, took aim, and squeezed the trigger.
They would never know who killed him, but as Adam, suffering from blood loss staggered off the green, supported by the earl of Bascombe, Giana rushed to support his other side. "Adam, you are hurt!"
"Yeah," Adam agreed, grimacing in pain. "And you shot me."
"You were already hurt," she protested. "That is why I shot you."
Adam stared at her.
"I could not help it," she explained. "I have never fired this kind of weapon before."
Adam managed a slight laugh. "Well, you're a damn sight better shot than your cousin." He slipped to his knees, took hold of George's hand and slipped the State Seal of Karolya onto her thumb. "I love you, my princess George. I will love you, walk behind you, and defend you until the day I die."
"Which will be today if we don't get you taken care of."
The earl of Bascombe lifted Adam to his feet and helped Giana carry him into the clubhouse.
"How's the beast?" adam asked when he was lying safely ensconced in his bed at the lodge, allowing Isobel to tend his cuts.
"He'll be fine," Giana assured him.
"He can sleep on the bed from now on," Adam said.
"No, he cannot," Giana protested.
"But he saved our lives," Adam said. "Prince Victor was wearing a ring like the seal. He intended to kill us and use Kirstin as a substitute for you whether he got the real seal or not." He looked over and saw O'Brien, Bascombe, and Kirstin standing at the foot of his bed. "Thanks, Murph, for protecting my wife."
O'Brien shrugged. "I only protected her until she began protecting you."
Adam grinned at his friend, then turned to his sister. "How are you, Kirs?"
"I want a divorce from Marshfeld," she said. "As soon as possible."
"I'm sure that can be arranged. Can't it, sir?" Adam looked at the earl of Bascombe.
"It can indeed."
"Thank you, sir, for acting as my second and for saving my life."
"I helped give you life," Bascombe said. "I wasn't about to let Victor take it." He shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, it was the least I could do for the infamous Bountiful Baron—and my son."
Adam groaned. "Oh, Jesus, you know about those stories?"
"Of course I do," Bascombe told him. "They're what led me to Nevada, what led me to seek you out. I read about the first adventure of the Bountiful Baron and I knew I had to find you. And Baron is a misnomer. As my son, you are entitled to be called Viscount Kennisbrooke. But the Bountiful Viscount doesn't have quite the same ring to it."
"How does your family feel about that?" Adam challenged. "Because if you are who you say you are, I'm your bastard son. The product of your annulled marriage to my mother, remember? And as far as I know being a bastard doesn't give me any rights to your titles."
"My family approves," Bascombe said. "My wife died six years ago and my two daughters—" He looked at Adam. "Yes, that's right, you have two more sisters, each of whom have sons of their own—urged me to find you and make things right. I drew up papers to make you my legal and legitimate heir when my wife died. Like it or not, you are the Viscount Kennisbrooke."
"I knew you were a bloody English lord the first time I laid me eyes on ya." O'Brien burst out laughing. "The only one I ever liked. Until now."
"I am Adam McKendrick." Adam narrowed his gaze at the man who claimed to be his father. "I'm not quite sure who you are, but my father was Benjamin McKendrick."
"I am Benjamin McKendrick," Bascombe told him. "It's our family name. I didn't become Viscount Kennisbrooke until my father inherited the title of earl of Bascombe and I didn't become Bascombe until he died eleven years ago."
"Nobody had ever seen or heard of the Bountiful Baron when I met you."
"I had," Bascombe smiled at him. "Because one of my American holdings publishes those dime novels."
"You're John J. Bookman?"
"No, that's the nom de plume of one of my correspondents." He winked at Kirstin. "I'm the man who pays those correspondents to create legends. One of those legends turned out to be the son I never knew." He stared down at Adam. "Ask your sister, she'll tell you who I am. My sincerest hope is that you will allow me to get to know you."
Adam hesitated, but Giana did not.
"It may take time, of course, but Adam will learn to forgive you. He has a most generous heart and our children will have great need of a loving grandfather." She rushed to Lord Bascombe and hugged him.
"Will you?" Bascombe asked, staring at his son.
"It won't be easy," Adam admitted, "but I'll try."
"Thank you."
"It's the least I can do for the man who made me the Bountiful Baron and helped me win a princess." He extended his hand to his father and when Bascombe shook it, there were tears in both men's eyes.
"That is enough," Giana said, shooing everyone out of the room a few minutes later. "We are on our nectar moon and Adam needs to rest."
"Honeymoon," Adam corrected gently. "And resting has nothing to do with it."
"But you are hurt."
"Yes, I am." He took hold of her hand and pulled her down for a lingering kiss. "And if you're a very good princess, and take very good care of me, I'll allow you to kiss me until everything is all better."
Adam and Giana celebrated two more wedding ceremonies and two more honeymoons before they settled down to life at the palace in Christianberg in Karolya.
The second wedding, held at Balmoral, two days after the duel on the golf links, was a small, intimate affair that took place in the chapel under the watchful eyes of the Queen of England, the marquess and marchioness of Templeston, the earl and countess of Ramsey, the marquess and marchioness of Everleigh, and the earl of Bascombe and Lady Marshfeld as well as all the members of the staff of Larchmont Lodge and the contingent of Coldstream guards who had escorted the couple to the queen's Scottish castle.
The second honeymoon also took place at Balmoral, but fortunately, the wedding guests did not expect to catch more than a glimpse of the participants or to have any say in the proceedings.
The same could not be said of their third wedding ceremony. Held in St. Vincent's Cathedral in Christianberg, four months after their original wedding, the state wedding fell subject to all the rules of etiquette and protocol and contained all the pomp and circumstance, all the spectacle any princess bride could ask for.
Thousands of Karolyan citizens, kings and queens, princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses, heads of state of sixty-eight countries, and the groom's mother, father, and five sisters and their families, attended.
Murphy O'Brien stood as best man in all three weddings and Brenna Mueller served as maid of honor. Archbishops performed two of their three weddings and a local vicar performed the other one. Crowds of commoners rubbed elbows with royalty as they packed the cathedral to witness the exchange of vows between Her Serene Highness Princess Georgiana Victoria Elizabeth May and Adam McKendrick, Viscount Kennisbrooke and Baron Bountiful in a ceremony that lasted over two hours.
At the conclusion of that ceremony, the royal couple journeyed to the palace at Laken where they spent a good deal of their honeymoon recovering from the wedding.
And they needed the time to rest and recover, for the planning of Princess Giana's coronation and preparations for the birth of the heir began immediately after the wedding.
Adam sold the Queen City Saloon and Opera House, and the Queen City Hotel to Murphy O'Brien, but kept Larchmont Lodge. It had, after all, been in his father's family for centuries. It became a world famous gentlemen's club and golf resort except for the one month in August each year, when Adam and Giana and their family and friends gathered for a holiday.
Epilogue
A Princess of the B
lood Royal of the House deserves a happily-ever-after. Her birthright should always be the love and respect and protection of her family first and then of her people, She is her family's and her country's greatest asset for she is the future and the future should always he filled with love and happiness.
—Maxim i: Protocol and Court Etiquette of Princes of the Blood Royal of the House of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya, as decreed by Adam I, Prince Consort to Her Serene Highness,
Princess Giana, 1875.
Christianberg Palace, Karolya
One year later
Adam finished noting his suggestions for revisions to the Female Provision of the Karolyan Charter, a document only a tyrant could love, and set them aside. He picked up the blue leather-bound volume Max had placed on his desk and leafed through the gilt-edged pages. "What the devil are these?"
"What?" Giana looked over at him from her position in the middle of their massive bed. She sat propped against the headboard, a mound of pillows behind her back as she held their infant daughter, Caroline Alexandrina Margaret, to her breast.
Adam held the book up so she could see it.
"You must be looking at the maxims in the book of Protocol and Court Etiquette of Princesses of the Blood Royal of the House of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya. They are the rules by which a royal princess must abide."
"Christ, I thought the Female Provision was bad, but this ..." Adam flipped through the pages once again, stopping to read several before tossing it aside. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you got so upset when I told you about the Female Provision," she answered.
Adam had to admit that he hadn't reacted well to the news that marrying him had limited her ability to govern her country. "Where are the rules for Princes of the Blood Royal?"
"There aren't any," she answered. "Princes of the Blood Royal are beyond reproach."
"The hell with that!" Adam burst out, unable to keep from shuddering at the memory of the last Prince of the Blood. If Victor had been a product of that philosophy, there was plenty of room for improvement.