Lions in the Garden

  The Duchess of Prucha.

  They killed your mother . . .

  “It’s time.” Radek’s breath was laced with wine. Unfocused blue eyes finally found my face. “Let’s go upstairs. These people bore me.”

  “I—”

  “Come.” He led me through the crowd and I passed people without seeing faces. Radek led me out of the ballroom and into the corridor. Two women silently moved behind us. I recognized the servant girls who had helped me get ready this morning. One of them was Leticia. Where was Branka? I needed her.

  Radek looked over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “Your new maids.”

  “Where’s Branka?”

  Radek shrugged. “I don’t know, sleeping? She’s old. I thought it would be better if you had younger, more efficient maids.”

  We entered the castle where I’d lived my entire life. Seventeen years. Now it felt like a prison. My own Daliborka Tower.

  “I want Branka. Is she hurt?”

  “What? Hurt? Of course not,” Radek said. “It’s late, Ludmila. She’s probably in bed, but if this new arrangement upsets you, then you can have your maid back tomorrow. She can come with us when we leave.”

  “Leave?”

  Radek glanced at me sideways. “After the . . . uh, judgment tomorrow morning, you and I are headed to Prucha.”

  “Prucha,” I whispered.

  “Yes, I’m bringing you home. I have some of your father’s business to tend to in the country. I figured it would be best, especially after tomorrow, to take you away from Prague for a while. To let things settle down here. We can all benefit from a change of scenery.”

  “Oh,” I said softly.

  Though unexpected, Radek’s words had no effect on me. I wouldn’t be going to Prucha tomorrow, or anywhere, for that matter. I would not live my life as Radek’s wife. The difficult part was how I was going to get through tonight. I glanced over my shoulder at Leticia. Where was Branka?

  We turned down a wing in the castle where I’d never been before. My bedroom was in the opposite corridor. We climbed the stairs to the top floor.

  Radek unlocked a door and waved his arm inside. “I’ll let you have a moment with your maids. Your sleeping gown is on the bed.”

  I stumbled inside with the two women on my heels. I waited for the door to close and I wasn’t surprised when I heard the lock click. Radek was taking no chances.

  The bedroom was large—three times the size of mine—and filled with opulent furniture. Oriental rugs covered the stone floor and a seating area was positioned near the fireplace. A bed with four tall posts stood in the center of the room, and on top of the thick emerald quilt was a short ivory nightgown made of silk with thin straps. I turned away from the dress and went to the balcony. I pushed past the thick drapes and walked onto the terrace.

  Prague’s lights glowed in the night like fireflies. The number of peasants outside the gates had nearly doubled. Their chants filled the cool air. Could Marc hear them?

  “Lady Nováková—I apologize, I meant to say duchess—we must get you dressed before the duke returns.” Leticia held back the drape. “Please.”

  I went back inside. The two women unlaced my wedding gown while I scanned the room for a weapon. I didn’t see anything useful. Without Branka here, I’d need a new plan. And quickly.

  Leticia slid the silk nightgown over my head.

  “Do you know Ruzena? From the kitchen staff?” I whispered.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Did you see her today?”

  Leticia glanced up at the ceiling as if trying to remember. “Yes, my lady. I believe I saw her this evening at the party.”

  I exhaled, but it sounded more like a groan. Leticia opened her mouth but then closed it.

  I seized her hand. “Tell me.”

  She shook her head.

  “No, please. Tell me.”

  “It’s nothing, my lady. I think what you did in the square was brave. Everyone thinks so. I am sorry they forced you to marry the duke.” She lowered her eyes.

  “I didn’t do anything brave.”

  She glanced up. “But you did. It’s begun. All because of Marc and you.” She reached into her bosom and pulled out a folded letter. The thick parchment was sealed shut, with the letter “I” clearly imprinted in the thick blue wax.

  I swallowed as she handed it to me. “What is this?”

  “Branka told me to give it to you.”

  I recognized the seal, but I had to be certain. “Who is it from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I glanced down at the hefty parchment. My mother always sealed her letters with sapphire blue wax and the imprint of her engraved “I” ring.

  Leticia slipped something else into my hand just as Radek placed the key in the lock. “Another wedding gift from Branka.”

  I crouched down and stuck the envelope under the mattress. I kept the other object hidden in my hand. My heartbeat thumped rapidly against my chest.

  Radek walked into the bedroom. His eyes slid down the nightgown. “Lovely.”

  I closed my fingers over the object. Thank you, Branka. She’d managed to get it to me. There was no way I could’ve brought it here myself.

  Leticia bowed before scurrying out of the room like a mouse. Radek closed the door and locked it. He moved to the seating area and peeled off his coat and sword and placed them on a chair.

  “What a night.” Radek unlaced his boots. He took them off one by one and set them in front of the fireplace.

  I stood still near the bed, feeling naked in the thin gown.

  The door was locked. The balcony curtains were pulled shut, leaving only a sliver of space open to the night air.

  Stay strong.

  Radek stood. “It was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it? The party was nice, too. Can you believe it? You are finally my wife. After all these years. I’ve waited for this night for a very long time.”

  I hid my closed fist behind me and scooted backward, but the backs of my legs bumped into the bed. I was extremely aware of my mother’s letter hidden under the mattress. “Radek, I . . . It’s been an extremely long day. I don’t think I can—”

  “Nonsense.” He shook his head with a curt movement. “It’s our wedding night.”

  “But—”

  He closed the space between us and rested his hands on my shoulders. His fingertips grazed my bare arms. “Ludmila, don’t be afraid. I never want you to be afraid of me again. I will never hurt you. I love you.”

  I backed away from him, but the bed trapped me. There was nowhere to go. “I can’t, Radek. I don’t want to, please.”

  He kissed my cheek. Dry, chapped lips traveled down my neck. I squirmed, but his grip on my shoulders tightened.

  “Stop,” I pleaded. “I can’t.”

  “Ludmila, please. You’re acting ridiculous.”

  I met his eager blue eyes. This was my only chance. “Radek, you have to let Marc go. Don’t let him hang tomorrow, please. I’ll go to Prucha with you. We can live our lives, but you have to release him.”

  Rage flashed in his eyes. His hand moved up my arm, over my shoulder, and wrapped around my throat. He shoved me onto the bed and climbed on top of me. “I don’t want to hear you speak his name again. Do you understand me? Never.”

  His hand was around my throat, but he wasn’t squeezing. It was only a threat.

  “You are my wife,” Radek whispered. “I own you. You will do as I say. When I say.” He embraced my ankle and ran his hand up my leg, over my knee to my thigh, bringing up the satin nightgown.

  “No!” I pushed the gown back down. “Stop.”

  “Little Ludmila is no longer a girl.” Radek kissed my neck and trailed his lips up to my ear. He slithered over me like a deadly snake.

  I cringed as his hot breath prickled my skin.

  “There’s no need to be shy. I know you want this, too.” He slid my strap off my shoulder and
caressed me.

  My cheeks burned as he exposed my breast. I tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. I didn’t have a choice—I swung my hand around with the small jagged piece of metal that Leticia had given me. My wedding gift from Branka was a makeshift knife, crudely constructed. I’d asked her to bring it as my last line of defense.

  I held the sharp edge to Radek’s throat—right against his Adam’s apple. “I said, don’t touch me.”

  His weight crushed against me, sinking me into the mattress, but he didn’t move. His eyes flickered down to me. For the briefest of seconds, he looked hurt. “Put that thing down, Ludmila. We both know you’re not going to harm me. You don’t have it in you.”

  “Get off me.” I slid my nightgown strap back onto my shoulder.

  “Deep down you love me. I saved you, Ludmila. Remember? I saved you from your mother’s weakness and I’ll save you now from the blacksmith’s son. That insignificant man has confused you, that’s all.” He leaned forward.

  “You’re still lying to me,” I whispered. “Have you ever told me the truth, Radek? I know my father killed my mother. Did you know that day on the balcony?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “Václav told me the night you returned with the blacksmith. I would never harm you, but what your father did was necessary. Your mother had a weakness—”

  “What weakness?”

  “She sided with them. Against your father. Against the church. She’d converted to Protestantism. She was plotting behind his back. Isabella was fueling the peasant rebellion and sleeping with Rudolf. Václav doesn’t even know if you’re really his daughter.”

  I couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped my lips. The king and my mother? My heartbeat raced, but I had to keep calm—whether his crazy allegation was true or not wasn’t important. Not now. Radek was trying to distract me and I couldn’t allow it.

  “The blacksmith’s son has tainted your thoughts, but it can still be undone,” Radek said. “Once he’s gone, you’ll forget him. You’re not like Isabella.”

  I pressed the tip of the blade into his skin. “No, Radek. That’s where you’re wrong. I am just like my mother.”

  He blinked.

  Two drops of ruby red blood splattered onto my ivory nightgown. “Get off me or I swear to God I’ll slit your throat,” I whispered.

  I pressed harder. More blood drops fell. I could do it. If he made a move against me, I’d defend myself and do it.

  “I don’t think Mila wants you touching her.” A deep voice filled the room.

  Marc. My heart fluttered.

  The drapes were pushed aside. Marc stood on the balcony with his hand clenched around a knife. The bruises on his face were more pronounced now that he was out of the dark dungeon. He limped forward, holding himself stiffly. His face looked pale—how much blood had he lost during the lashings?

  “Marc,” I breathed.

  Marc’s eyes flickered to me before finding Radek. “Sorry to interrupt your wedding night, Duke. But I think you stole my bride.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I held the knife steady to Radek’s throat.

  “You really do have a death wish, don’t you, blacksmith? How did you get out of Daliborka Tower?”

  “I had some help,” Marc said.

  Radek swung his hand up and against my arm, knocking Branka’s knife to the floor. I scrambled backward on the bed as the duke raced to the chair near the fireplace.

  “Watch out!” I screamed. “He’s going for his sword!”

  Marc limped forward, but Radek was too quick. He unsheathed the blade and smiled at Marc. “You’re too late. Ludmila and I are already married. Nothing can change that.”

  My stomach lurched—Radek was my husband. We had been married in the Catholic Church under the eyes of God.

  Marc shrugged. “I doubt God cares much for forced marriages. Either way the marriage has to be consummated to be valid, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen.”

  Radek pointed his sword at Marc. “It looks like I’ll get my wish after all.”

  “A sword versus a knife. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Marc sprang first. His knife sliced through the air, but Radek moved to the side and the blow missed.

  Radek flashed a grin and attacked.

  Marc dodged the blow and slashed at the duke, narrowly missing his ear. Blood seeped through the back of Marc’s shirt from his lashing, but the pain didn’t deter him. They moved in rhythm, like lovers in a deadly dance. The duke’s swings were vicious and erratic, but Marc’s movements were hindered because of his injured back.

  Marc lunged, but Radek shoved the chair in front of him. He dodged it and swung his fist at the duke, but Radek grabbed his arm. Marc swiped the knife at Radek’s hand clenched around his arm. The blade sliced the front of Radek’s wrist, penetrating the skin. Blood bubbled from the wound. Radek screamed and released his sword. The metal clanged against the stone floor.

  Radek screamed again—an animalistic cry. His eyes flashed with rage and he raced forward. He caught Marc off guard and shoved him backward. Marc stumbled over the chair and fell to the floor. Marc groaned as he landed on his back. His spine curved in an arch to keep the shredded skin from hitting the floor. Radek rolled on top of him, but Marc lifted his hips and threw him off.

  Marc flipped over as Radek scrambled for his sword, but Marc struck first, bringing his knife up in a vicious swing. The point of the dagger stabbed beneath Radek’s collarbone.

  The duke screamed.

  Marc yanked out the blade and Radek fell backward as the blood bubbled from his wound. His legs flailed like a crab’s as he tried to scoot away from Marc. Radek pressed his palm against the wound to stop the bleeding.

  Marc’s blade hovered over Radek’s heart. He moved to deliver the final blow.

  I ran forward. “Don’t!”

  Marc glanced at me. “What?”

  “You can’t kill him.”

  “Why not?”

  Radek moaned. “See, blacksmith? She can’t bear to see me hurt. There’s a part of Ludmila that will always love me. She’s my wife. We were married in the church. As a Protestant, you can’t understand the meaning of the vows that Ludmila and I promised each other.”

  I ignored him, even though his words rang true—in the eyes of the Catholic Church, Radek was my husband. “If you kill the duke, the Crown will hunt you down. You’ll be the most wanted man in the kingdom. He’s not worth it.”

  “I’m already the most wanted man in the kingdom.”

  “You’re not a coldblooded murderer.”

  Marc’s eyes fell to Radek, bleeding on the floor. The muscles in his arms were taut as he held the sword to the duke’s heart.

  “Marc, please.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill this murderer,” he said. “After everything he’s done to us. To you. Remember how he beheaded that pastor? Tell me why I shouldn’t run my blade through him.”

  “Because you’re better than him.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.”

  Marc’s eyes moved to me. The sharp angles in his face softened, and a long breath escaped his lips. “Ludmila just saved your life,” he said to Radek. “We’ll need something to tie him up with.”

  I spun around in a circle. What could we use?

  “Call for Stephan.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  Marc pointed to the balcony. “Stephan’s out there. Tell him I need some rope.” He picked up Radek’s sword and punched him in the face.

  The duke’s hands went to his face and Marc dragged Radek across the floor by his arm. He threw the duke in a chair by the fireplace and held the sword to his throat. Blood seeped from Radek’s shoulder, staining his white wedding shirt. His eyes fluttered around helplessly. “Mila, help me.”

  I ignored his pleas and ran to the balcony, expecting to see Stephan there, but it was empty. I blinked stupidly. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Radek had
said—could the king really be my father? Branka had implied that my mother had spent nights with the king, and Rudolf always sounded extremely affectionate whenever he spoke of my mother. Was I Rudolf’s daughter? Was I the princess?

  I glanced over the edge of the railing and saw four men barely visible in the darkness. Four guards.

  “Lady Nováková?” A voice traveled upward.

  “Stephan?”

  “How’s Marc?”

  “He needs rope.”

  “Stand back,” Stephan said.

  A moment later the end of a braided rope sailed over the railing and onto the ground beside me. I picked it up and raced inside, not quite understanding why or how Stephan, one of the king’s highest-ranking generals, was helping us escape.

  “You’ll be squashed out like the last rebellion.” Radek’s voice still sounded arrogant even as he cringed in pain. “I’ll find you. I’ll make it my life’s goal to see your head on a spike.”

  I tossed the rope to Marc. He sawed off two pieces from the long braided coil.

  “If you leave with him, Ludmila, I will never be able to forgive you,” Radek said. “There will be no going back.”

  Marc snorted as he tied Radek’s arms to the chair.

  “I think I can live with that,” I said.

  “Can you? What are you going to do? Live in the forest with him like a savage?” A sheen of sweat covered Radek’s face, but the bleeding had reduced to a trickle. He locked eyes with me. “You’re my wife. You’re better than this.”

  It was a verbal punch to the gut. He’d used the same words when we were children as he talked me down from the balcony ledge seven years ago—You’re better than this. I remembered the urge to jump to my death to flee my problems, to cower and take the easy way out.

  But I was no longer that frightened little girl.

  Radek spoke quickly. “You’re not thinking clearly, Ludmila. You will be a fugitive of the Crown. Just like him. I will not be able to protect you if you leave with this Protestant filth. They will hunt you down and show no mercy. What will your father say?”