Christmas Conspiracy (21 page)

“Somewhere you won’t come out of alive, unless you cooperate.”

Kat stared at the guard’s ravaged face. Maybe the lashing he’d just taken at Sarbonne’s hands would make the man willing to defy the duke. “Will you help me escape?” she whispered.

The guard shook his head. “No. To cross the duke means punishment or even death. He has threatened my family.” He leaned closer. “Give him what he wants. There’s no other way to survive his gaol. Even if you do, you won’t come out of his prison as pretty as you are going in. The duke revels in inflicting pain.”

“Shut up, Antoine,” the driver hissed. “He’s probably listening.”

Kat shivered. The duke wanted her as his queen. She would have to find a way to use the fact to her advantage.

“Is the king part of this?” she asked. “Does he know the duke is killing people?”

“Leopold has grown soft, and won’t be king much longer. He has named no legal heir and the country is in turmoil. You’d better learn quickly who has the power,” Antoine said. “With you under the duke’s control, no one can help our country now.”

Kat stared at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

Antoine put a hand against the whip marks on his cheek. “Because you were our country’s last hope.”

Kat froze. Was he saying that he
wanted
her to be queen? That he actually hoped she would come to Bellevaux and become the king’s heir?

Antoine glanced toward the front, then whispered one last time, “The duke intends to kill you after you’re married. If you can get away,
run
—and don’t ever come back.”

* * *

T
HE VEHICLE EASED
through a large gate with a half-dozen guards standing by with machine guns. Once security waved them through, Kat’s heart plummeted at the distance from the fence to their destination. How could she possibly get Hayden away without being caught?

The car came to a stop outside an old stone building that looked like something from a medieval horror movie. The duke’s prison. Her heart raced when Antoine helped her out of the back. Her manacled wrists made it difficult to exit on her own.

He used more gentle hands. “I’ll pray for you, Princess. I’m sorry.”

A group of guards forced Kat down stone steps toward a large iron door. It took two guards to open it. The door clanged shut behind their entourage, sounding much like a death knell. The stone-lined corridor closed in on her. They passed a series of rooms, the furniture within old and tattered. The farther underground they walked, the more Kat’s hope dimmed. Finally they reached a locked iron door.

The gate eased open. An older man struggled, wincing as he pressed the hefty iron weight back. The slashes across his face and neck looked remarkably familiar. Whip marks. Another of the duke’s victims. She wanted to beg for help, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

“End of the hall,” a guard said, pushing her roughly. “Don’t talk to anyone.”

Kat walked down the stone hallway, her gaze shifting right, then left. They’d entered the prison now, and the dungeon chilled her. Not because of the cool temperature, but the horror she witnessed. Blood marked the floors and even the walls of several cells. Sharp metal objects rested on surgical tables. Sharp…and stained dark from use.

This was not just a prison. It was the duke’s torture chamber.

Kat wanted to escape, but her son could be at the end of this hall. Part of her wanted him to be there, so she could see he was okay. Another part of her wanted him never to have seen anything like this horror in his lifetime. She would kill the duke for doing this to her son.

Halfway down the corridor, a groan penetrated her numbed mind. A man—or what was left of one—lay on the floor of one of the prison cells on her right. He gazed at her from a bruised and battered face, raising his chin proudly.

She paused, staring into his eyes. He seemed to will her his strength. Did he know who she was? Could this be Daniel? The man that Logan had talked about being imprisoned and tortured? His face, although badly beaten, reminded her of Logan’s—the warrior’s expression, the obvious determination to survive, to fight.

Kat nodded to him, and turned away. She would survive this, too. No matter what the duke did. She would summon her courage to withstand the torture. She would lie, cheat and steal to save herself and the life of her son. Then she would wait for the time she could have her revenge.

The guard pushed her forward and opened a locked door at the end of a hallway.

Kat walked into the filthy stone room. A soiled mat lay on the floor and Hayden sat in a chair next to the duke, her son’s dirty face streaked with tears.

“Mommy!” He ran to her and Kat looped her handcuffed hands around him and held him close. A protective anger, stronger than any emotion she’d ever felt in her life, besides grief, swept through her.

“I don’t like it here, Mommy.” His words were slightly slurred. “I want to go back to Daddy’s house.”

“Shhh, baby,” she whispered. “I’m here.” They’d drugged him. A little boy.

She scanned the room, refusing to let the revulsion and fear show on her face. The wooden table before her was stained with blood. Cuffs, whips and more metal instruments lay ready for use.

The duke leaned back, completely comfortable in the disturbing surroundings.

“Why did you bring Hayden here? This is no place for a child.”

“The boy?” the duke asked, expansively. “Why, this is his new home.”

Kat stilled, staring around in shock. “You’re making him stay here?”

“I see I finally have your attention, my dear.” The duke flicked an imaginary piece of lint from his crisp pants.

“Yes, Princess Katherine. He stays here.” He leaned forward, his eyes cold, yet triumphant. “Now, this is the plan. You will accompany me to the palace. You will sign the adoption papers to become the king’s heir. Then you will marry me immediately. When I claim the throne, you will rule by my side as my queen, or you will disappear.”

“But my son—”

“Remains here as collateral.”

At her attempted protest, the duke slashed his whip off the wall. “The next lash is for him.”

Kat froze in place, her arms around a terrified Hayden.

“Understand this, Princess. There is
no
negotiation. If you do not do as I say, your son dies. Your daughter follows once I find her.” The duke rose. “And make no mistake, I will find her.”

Kat hugged Hayden closer. “Please don’t make him stay here.”

“Would you prefer I kill him now? That’s his other option.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. She swayed, ready to break, then, with monumental effort, pulled herself together.

She couldn’t fall apart. She had to be strong. Do whatever it took to survive. The guard had been sympathetic. She would find other allies in Bellevaux. She would get Hayden out of here. Her son would not die.

The duke stared at her. “You’re too quiet. Whatever desperate plot you’re concocting, forget it. It won’t work.”

“I just want to be near my son.”

The duke’s eyes gleamed. “Not until you’ve done as I command.”

“Can’t he stay somewhere in the palace? Away from everyone?” Kat forced herself to walk across the room and look at the monster with pleading eyes. “Please.”

“No. You will have other children living there. Legitimate children.
My children
.”

“O-of course.” Kat forced herself not to gag at the idea of letting this man touch her. She focused on Logan’s instructions.
Say anything
. “But I need to know if I do what you say, Hayden will be safe. Since we are to be married, I want to trust you.”

The duke’s face softened a bit. “You are a fighter, like a mother bear…and you’re very beautiful. Those are two traits befitting a queen.” He touched her cheek. “Never let it be said I don’t listen to reason. Once we are married, we’ll talk again.”

He smiled when he said it, but Katherine knew better. Hayden wouldn’t ever be free of this prison. He would be used to keep her in line, and at the duke’s mercy.

Her future husband opened the door and called in the old guard. “Pierre.”

The duke held out his hand. “You will come with me now, Katherine. I have someone I wish you to meet.”

Hayden clung to her. Kat knelt down and kissed his hair. “Mommy will be back. I promise.”

“If you behave,” the duke said, “that may be the truth.” He turned to the old guard. “Take the boy from her.”

Pierre stood in front of Kat and Hayden. As he did so, he slipped a small metal shiv into her palm. Her gaze flashed to his face, but the man kept his eyes lowered. Kat’s heart pounded as she bent her wrist to ease the blade beneath the shirtsleeve cuff. She prayed it wouldn’t slip out onto the floor. The man’s life would be forfeit.

Pierre stepped aside so she could pass, and he held Hayden’s shoulders firmly. Tears rolled down her son’s cheeks, and Kat fought against the burning behind her eyes. She glanced back. The guard whispered in Hayden’s ear and her son nodded. He waved at Kat and she swallowed deeply.
How could she leave him here?

She met the duke’s cruel gaze.
How could she not?

Unless…she let the knife edge into her palm.

A groan sounded. Kat paused and peered into a cell. A pile of rags in the corner moved. Oh, my God. It was a man.

“Unlock this door,” the duke said to Antoine.

He fit the key in and pulled open the iron. Sarbonne led her inside, but stayed near the entrance.

“This piece of trash has now outlived his usefulness.” The duke stopped. “Except for an introduction and a warning.” The duke tapped his whip against his hand. “Don’t worry. He’s chained and too broken to give us any problems.”

The pitiful being stirred again, forcing himself to move. His hair looked dark, but then Kat recognized the filth and blood caked in his hair and realized he was a blond. Ice-blue eyes stared back at her, and her heart started beating wildly in her chest.

He had her eyes.
It couldn’t be.

He lifted his swollen chin. They’d broken his nose, and maybe his cheekbones, but obviously not his spirit. Admiration, coupled with horror, welled within her.

Kat heard a noise in the doorway, and glanced behind her. Both Antoine’s and Pierre’s eyes were full of pity.

The duke circled the man, whip in hand, but kept at a distance. “This, my dear Katherine, is what is left of mighty Prince Stefan of Bellevaux. Your half brother.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“The world believes he’s dead,” the duke said, laying a lash across Stefan’s back. “They’ll soon be right.”

Stefan grasped the bars to his left and struggled to stand himself upright on one leg. Kat stared in disbelief at the signs of brutality and viciousness his body bore.

“Remember this day, Katherine. Stefan disappointed me. I don’t deal well with disappointment.” He sent the whip cracking across her brother’s chest and laughed at Kat’s cry of distress.

Fury swept through her. Sarbonne was showing her what was to be her fate, and that of her son. It would not come to pass.

Kat met her half brother’s gaze and held her hand off to the side, revealing the tip of the knife in her sleeve. His eyes widened and then she saw a smile upturn his lips.

“You think this is funny?” the duke roared in anger, lashing him again.

“No,” Stefan whispered, his voice husky. “I think you’re funny, Roland. I think you’re a joke.”

The duke’s face turned red. Kat paled until she realized what her brother was doing. Risking his life to distract the duke, waiting for her to kill him. With a silent prayer, she let the knife fall into her hands. Terrified, she raised her fist, ready to stab the duke.

A gasp from the hallway had the duke whirling to face her. He blocked her strike with his whip, then backhanded her across the room. The knife slid across the floor.

“I warned you.” The duke unfurled the whip in his hands. “You will not disobey me again.”

The lash came down, stinging across her arm, and she cried out at the pain. Antoine shoved Sarbonne away. He fell back on the ground and before he could rise, Stefan tackled him.

Kat watched in disbelief as her brother grabbed the duke by the throat, and with one motion, encircled the leather lash around Sarbonne’s neck and pulled tight.

“No!” The duke clawed at Stefan’s hold, kicking and fighting to be free. His hand found the knife and he started to swing.

One second later, he was dead.

Chapter Eleven

Stefan rolled over on his back, breathing hard. The duke’s lifeless body lay on the floor beside him. Pierre and Antoine, the guard who had helped them, stood in the doorway.

Shocked and relieved, Kat lay curled on the dirty stones, her body still aching from the lash. She met Stefan’s pain-filled gaze.

“The guards may still kill us,” her brother warned.

“No, they won’t,” Pierre said. “They will be either rejoicing or running. The king will not let this attempted coup pass unpunished.”

“Thank you,” Kat said to Antoine as he helped her up. “You risked a lot for me. You saved my life.”

Fading fear and restored dignity shone in the battered guard’s eyes. “Will you and the prince now save our country? The duke did not work alone.”

Kat faltered, then looked at her brother. He stared back at her, in silent inquiry, then when she hesitated, he closed his eyes and lay there on the stones, quiet.

“I will do what I can to help,” she answered, then turned to Pierre. “Let my son out. Let all of the duke’s prisoners out.”

He bowed to her, with obvious deference. “Yes, Princess Katherine.”

She stared after him as the guards hurried to open the other man’s cell, stunned at the way they were acting toward her.

“Will you be all right, Stefan? I must get my son.”

“Go to him,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m not going anywhere…not under my own power at least.”

Kat ran to Hayden’s cell.

Pierre came closer, supporting a battered, bleeding man who introduced himself as Logan’s partner, Daniel. His horrific bruises and wounds did little to quell his determination to stand erect, but Kat didn’t know how the man did it. Every part of his body had been slashed or beaten.