Protecting The Princess - Nadine Millard Page 0,8
on, half amused, half annoyed that the lady was going to be more hassle than he’d hoped for, as she’d dragged two bags out the servant’s entrance of the kitchens.
She’d been spotted by the guards almost immediately, of course, and only Jacob’s intervention had stopped them from marching her back inside. Prince Christopher knew his sister well and had instructed Jacob that if Harriet ran, he was to follow, not stop her.
The prince had offered a brief explanation, though Jacob supposed he didn’t have to.
“My sister is—tenacious,” the prince had explained with an air of exasperation that Jacob knew only a female could inspire. “If she has decided to run, then nothing will stop her. I’d rather you kept an eye on her than have her sent with the Furbergs and then go missing near the ships.”
Jacob understood the prince’s plan, even as he resented being the one to have to implement it.
So instead of the royal guards doing their jobs, he’d stepped in and told them to allow the princess to leave.
That same intervention had led to the lady thinking she’d managed to escape unnoticed, of course. And had given her a misplaced sense of confidence in her abilities to blend in.
It wasn’t just that she’d very obviously never been out alone, and certainly had never travelled alone. But she was so damned beautiful that she’d draw attention to herself dressed in rags. A fact that was sure to add to the difficulty of Jacob’s job.
Jacob hadn’t meant to make his presence known until he’d tailed her to wherever it was she was planning on going.
But he’d spotted the wastrel in the courtyard long before Princess Harriet had, and when the man had staggered toward her, Jacob hadn’t had much choice but to get involved.
With his plan to stay unnoticed now an impossibility, he had to think on his feet.
Something that was proving difficult in the face of the princess’s distractingly big brown eyes.
Ensuring that his face was a friendly but emotionless mask, Jacob turned back to face the fuming Princess Harriet.
Her outrage was exasperating. Didn’t she realise what could have happened if he hadn’t intervened?
His method had been a little unorthodox, but that was only because he wanted to avoid a scene.
And shooting the opportunistic blackguard between the eyes definitely would have caused a scene.
Prince Christopher wanted his sister dealt with subtly and without notice. Again, the body of a drunken lout would definitely have been noticed.
The princess was glaring at him, her eyes filled with both affront and bewilderment.
“Forgive me.” Jacob sketched a bow, her bags swaying against his legs. “I felt it prudent to step in when I thought you might be in danger. It’s not safe for a woman to travel alone, Miss.”
“Apparently not, given I’ve had one man try to accost me and now another stealing my bags.”
Jacob bit back a reluctant grin. She was feistier than he would have expected.
He suddenly remembered one morning a lifetime ago when he’d been trying his best to become a disciplined royal guard.
He’d been late to drills. Again. And was suffering the wrath of his captain. Again.
He’d looked up and seen Princess Harriet, then only a child of ten compared to his eighteen years, gazing down at the courtyard.
And he’d briefly wondered what life would be like for the little princess given that it would be even more regimented than that of a soldier. If she did have a free spirit, it would be sure to have disappeared before she was in long skirts, he’d thought with a pang of sadness for the girl.
Jacob knew all about the detriment of a free spirit.
As the second son of the Count of Dresbonne, it had been expected of him to climb the ranks to become an estimable lieutenant.
Unfortunately for the count, his son’s personality did not lend itself to the strictures of army life.
Fortunately for Jacob, he proved himself skilled enough in areas that led to a far more exciting and lucrative, but far more dangerous life than that of a soldier.
He’d become one of an elite group of agents reporting directly to Prince Christopher himself.
He’d thought that his current assignment would be tracking down and disposing of the would-be assassin who’d come for the royal family not a week ago.
When he’d received Prince Christopher’s missive the other evening, he’d assumed that he was being sent to find out who inside the palace could have been leaking information about the king’s private routine, and who would have sent a