When A Man Is Torn Between Honoring His Country And The Woman He Loves, The Best Option Might Be To Choose Both
When Maggie du Woernig willfully ignores her parents’ admonitions and entangles herself with Nik Koenig, she is certain he’s the only man who will make her happy. Blind to Nik’s real intentions, she throws herself recklessly into a situation that could not only destroy her life but compromise the safety of her country.
Han Heinrich has resigned himself to working in the castle stables, mostly as an excuse to have contact each day with Maggie. His aspirations for a more fulfilling career seem fruitless, in spite of his father’s position as the duke’s highest advisor. But when Han learns about Maggie’s precarious situation, he is willing to sacrifice everything to protect the woman he loves, and to save the country he would die for. He only hopes that someday Maggie will forgive him.
Read sample chapterChapter One
A CHANGE OF HEART
Bavaria—1840
Han Heinrich pulled back the drapes covering his bedroom window and looked down to the castle courtyard below. He lived with his parents in the nicest apartment among the many residences of the castle, but the view from this window was a completely different angle than any view of the courtyard that could be seen from any room belonging to a member of the royal family. His father was the duke’s highest advisor, and his mother was the highest paid and most respected of the duchess’s maids. Each of his parents in their own right was enormously successful and revered by the royal family as well as the citizens of Horstberg.
Han considered himself privileged to have such parents, but his pleasure in being their only son wasn’t so much to do with their positions and prestige—even though he admired those things. Georg and Elsa Heinrich were loving, kind, and generous people. Han had never wanted for anything, most specifically love and perfect support in all that he’d endeavored for more than twenty years of life. But Han still didn’t like the angle of his view of the castle courtyard. He felt excluded for reasons that were painful to even think about.
He closed the drapes and grabbed his jacket before he headed down the stairs for a quick breakfast with his parents. After eating, they all walked out the front door and went different directions, each attending to their individual professions in serving the most wealthy and powerful family of Horstberg. Georg would go to the ducal office. Elsa to the duchess’s personal quarters. And Han went to the stables, where he both loved and hated his work. For reasons that were too complicated to untangle, he just couldn’t seem to get beyond the stables and find the life he knew was meant for him. He didn’t know for certain what that life entailed, but he knew it wasn’t this.
Han did a quick check on every horse to make certain all was in order, and then he began the morning feeding regime. The cavalry stables were some distance up the courtyard and employed several stablehands, which was necessary to care for the dozens of horses that were kept on the ready for officers of the Guard. Han worked mostly by himself here in the family stables, assisted occasionally by a boy who came to work part time. He preferred being alone for the most part, but he also knew that too much time on his own could be dangerous when he allowed his mind to wander into memories and hopes that all seemed fruitless and subsequently depressing.
Han was pouring feed into the trough of the final hungry animal when he knew that Maggie du Woernig had entered the stables. He hadn’t heard her, and his back was turned toward the doorway, but he sensed her presence. He always could, and he nearly hated her for it. He moved with deliberate slowness to finish his task before he turned to look at her, wishing there was some potion he could take to stop the reactions that typically happened in her presence. His quickened heart and sweating palms were nothing more than annoying when she only stared at him with coldness in her blue eyes. He took in her appearance: an elegant riding habit, her red hair perfectly styled and topped with a perfect little hat. As always, she looked flawless. He warded off his own reactions and spoke with a light sarcasm that hid his emotions from her as completely as she had banished her own true feelings about everything important in her life.
“So, the little princess wants to take a ride,” Han said, futilely trying to avoid eye contact.
Maggie watched Han shuffle the toe of his boot over the ground as if he had all the time in the world. She didn’t know why he purposely tested her patience at every opportunity, but it never ceased to make her angry.
“What makes you think you’re going to get a horse saddled at this hour?” he asked. A familiar amusement sparkled in his green eyes.
Han’s attitude came as little surprise, but it infuriated her nonetheless. “You say that as if you never see me here this time of day. I am almost always here this time of day. The sun has been up for at least an hour.”
“So have I. What’s that got to do with it?”
“That’s when I like to go riding. You know that. Just . . . saddle Pagan so I can go.”
“Pagan is eating his breakfast.”
“Then saddle up another horse.”
“They’re all eating,” Han stated as if she were inane. “Don’t you know a hungry brood of horses when you see one?”
“Oh, never mind!” she exclaimed. Exasperated, Maggie gave up her impulse to ride before breakfast; she simply wasn’t up to the typical argument with Han today. She headed for the door until a complacent chuckle stopped her.
“Now what are you laughing about?” She turned with her hands on her hips. “You’re always laughing!”
“Life is fun.” Han smiled, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.
“Except when I want to go riding,” she retorted. “Do you think that once—just once—you could saddle a horse for me without making an ordeal out of it?”
He smirked. “Why should I?”
“Because that’s what you’re paid to do. You might find this a startling revelation, Han Heinrich, but you are a stable groom. It is your job to get a horse ready for me when I want one.”
“You’re always reminding me.” He chuckled.
“If you did your job the way you’re supposed to, I wouldn’t have to remind you.” Maggie turned away with a silent indication that she wasn’t going to press the conversation any further.
“Oh, all right.” Han laughed. “Just wait another minute, and I’ll saddle Pagan . . . Your Royal Impatience.”
Maggie kept her back to him and blew out a careful sigh, fighting to put her temper under control before turning back to face him. She knew he only behaved this way to get a reaction out of her, and she’d told herself countless times that she would not give him any further satisfaction. But oh, how he riled her! Simply put, if it weren’t for the times he’d helped keep her out of trouble, she’d have insisted he be dismissed long ago. But somehow he always managed to come through when she was in need of a quick alibi. Beyond that, he was infuriatingly rude and sarcastic, and his manner as a groom was deplorable! But then, Han no doubt had confidence that his position was not easily threatened. Maggie had only once insinuated that she would have him dismissed, and he’d come up with a long list of reasons why he never would be. Those reasons haunted her in moments like this. She almost hated him simply for the way everybody else around here liked him.
Maggie’s father foremost absolutely adored Han. This was mostly due to the fact that Han’s father was Cameron du Woernig’s right-hand man and lifelong friend. Although Han was nothing like his father. They both had the same tall, lean frame and fluffy, blond hair. But Georg Heinrich was a kind, gentle man who would never speak with any degree of disrespect to a lady. Maggie often wished that Han would pay more attention to his father’s example.
“It’s a beautiful morning.” The subject of her thoughts interrupted her musings, and she turned to see Han throwing a saddle on Pagan’s back.
“Yes,” she said, “I believe it is. I’ll let you know for certain when I’ve had a chance to see for myself.”
“Patience, Princess.” He smiled. “Patience.”
Maggie glared at him then looked away, and he chuckled again. “Why do you take everything so seriously?” he asked.
“That is a topic I refuse to discuss with you.”
“Do you know what your problem is, MagdaLena?”
“I’m certain you do,” she said sarcastically. “And it’s Princess MagdaLena to you.”
“Oh, knock off the formalities. Your problem,” he went on, “is that you just don’t know how to have fun.”
“You’ve mentioned that before,” she said in a scolding tone, but he just laughed, and she did her best to ignore him.
Han watched Maggie as she moved closer to Pagan and pressed a hand down the horse’s neck in their usual greeting. While he tightened the strap beneath the horse’s belly, he hardly took his eyes off of her. He liked watching her while she wasn’t aware, though he rarely had the opportunity. In spite of her older brother being his closest friend, it wasn’t often these days that he encountered Maggie anywhere beyond the stables. And even then, she was quickly in and out. And rarely kind.
She always wore a fine riding habit, since she owned several in varied colors and styles, but today she wore dusty blue, which enhanced her eyes of the same color. Again he noted how her rich, curly red hair was styled immaculately and set off with a smart little hat. She played her role of the princess well, but Han recalled the little girl she’d once been, romping in the castle gardens and climbing trees with the other children. He’d watched her mature into a beautiful young woman, but there had been a time when her feelings for him had been much different. To this day, he didn’t understand what had changed her. But he couldn’t help hoping that something of the Maggie he’d grown up with still existed somewhere.
With the saddle secure, Han held out his hand to help her mount in a manner they were accustomed to. He bent his knee below the stirrup, and she briefly set her booted foot on his thigh in order to hurtle herself into the saddle. While she adjusted her skirts and brushed them meticulously, Han took the reins and walked Pagan toward the wide door that had not yet been opened today. Turning the reins over to Maggie, he pushed against the huge door with his shoulder to open it while Pagan pawed with anticipation at the ground beneath his hooves.
The smell of recent rain rushed into the stables. When the door stopped on its hinge, Han leaned against it and held his arms out elaborately as the sun burst into the stables and Pagan bolted forward. Han saluted casually as Maggie rode past, and he watched intently until she had galloped across the courtyard and disappeared through the high castle gate. He should have been going with her, he thought; life should have been so much different for both of them. He told himself as he did every day that he should just accept the past for what it had been and let it go. But something kept him holding on to the tiniest spark of hope, even while a part of him knew it was hopeless. He forced himself to get to work, making certain all of the horses were clean and brushed and the stables in good order. But he could only think about Maggie.
The morning air felt briskly invigorating to Maggie. She drew serenity from riding and quickly forgot the tension Han always created within her. Reaching the foot of the hill that majestically supported her home, Maggie turned by habit to admire Castle Horstberg. She had never known any other home or way of life, but being the eldest daughter of the Duke of Horstberg was an honor she didn’t take lightly. She took pride in her heritage and felt certain the future she had chosen for herself would serve her country well.
Pagan grew impatient from her brief admiration. Almost by his own will, the stallion turned and broke into a gallop toward the foothills. The Bavarian countryside had a beauty Maggie could never put into words. She only knew she felt a part of it on mornings like this. The forest was sparse in this favorite spot of hers, not far from the castle hill. And the meadow was just beginning to show signs of color as winter slipped away. Maggie heeled Pagan around the circumference of the meadow, relishing the wind in her face and letting whatever anxieties might have hindered this enjoyment fall away.
Maggie was surprised to realize she was not alone. At first she thought the man she could see at the edge of the woods was Erich, since her brother often rode early as well. From a distance it briefly looked like him. But she quickly realized that Erich’s red hair was unmistakable, and this man’s hair was dark. Enveloped with sudden apprehension, she couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone else riding this close to the castle before.
As the rider came closer, there was no conscious reason for Maggie to be afraid, but there was something indefinable in his manner that disturbed her. She was accustomed to being approached with deference, and this man’s boldness caught her off guard. Remembering her father’s repeated warnings—however light—about being kidnapped and carried off for the duke’s ransom, Maggie turned and rode away from the approaching rider, relieved that he didn’t pursue her.
When Maggie arrived back at the stables, Han was there as always to help her dismount. She wasn’t aware of the vague weakness in her knees until she leaned against Han’s hands at her waist.
“Is something wrong?” he asked with sincerity, holding onto her longer than necessary to offer support.
“No,” she said sharply and left Han staring after her.
Maggie quickly freshened up and made it to the dining room just as breakfast was nearing an end.
“Look, Abbi,” her father said to her mother as Maggie entered and sat down. “I told you there was another daughter around here someplace. They always come around when they’re hungry.”
Maggie gave her father an affectionate glance. She was quite comfortable with his teasing. She exchanged a quick glance with her sister, Sonia, then smiled toward her mother, who replied, “If you don’t stop that, Cameron, they’ll all take to eating in their rooms.”
“On the contrary,” Erich piped in, “mealtime can be rather entertaining. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Cameron du Woernig nodded toward his son, obviously pleased by the comment. And the mirrored image of his youth nodded back. If not for Erich’s red, curly hair that was such a stark contrast to Cameron’s that was nearly black—slightly spattered with hints of gray—their appearance was practically identical except for their obvious difference in age.
“I’m glad you’re here, Maggie,” her mother said. “You mustn’t forget that you have a fitting this afternoon at three. Don’t be off roaming the countryside and leave the dressmaker waiting.”
“I’ll be there,” Maggie assured her.
“What are we getting a new dress for this time?” Erich asked.
“Don’t you remember, dear?” his mother replied. “Maggie’s betrothal will soon be official.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Erich’s tone indicated his disapproval. “The groom’s family is traveling many miles to meet the bride to be. And what a festive occasion we’ll have!” His sarcasm was light but true.
“Oh, hush!” Maggie insisted.
Erich gave her a sidelong glance and stood from the table. “I’m going riding, little sister. Want to come?”
“I do,” Sonia volunteered, coming to her feet as well.
“Wonderful,” he said. “Maggie?”
“I’ve already been out once,” she said, recalling the strange encounter that had cut her ride short, “but I wouldn’t mind going again.”
“Good.” Erich smiled, taking Sonia’s arm. “We’ll meet you in the stables. Don’t be too long.”
Even though Maggie’s parents had finished eating, they tarried at the table to visit with their daughter while she hurriedly ate her breakfast. Maggie wasn’t surprised when her father asked, “Are you ready for the big day?”
“I will be,” she said easily.
“I know I’ve asked this before,” Cameron said carefully, his teasing tone completely absent, “but I need to be certain this is what you want to do. I will not have you feeling forced into a political marriage if it’s not what you want.”
“Yes, Father,” Maggie smiled, “you’ve asked me before. And I’ll tell you again: I’m not being forced into anything. This was my idea, remember?”
“But you haven’t even met Rudolf,” her father argued. “How can you be willing to marry someone you haven’t even met?”
“I’ve met his parents,” Maggie said with only a hint of impatience in her voice while her mother looked on with concern. “They’re a good family. You told me yourself.”
“Yes, they are,” Cameron agreed. “But that’s not necessarily enough to make a good marriage. Why don’t you—”
“Father,” Maggie said firmly, “we’ve discussed this already. Rudolf and I have been exchanging letters for quite some time. I feel I know him well. I’m certain it will be a satisfactory marriage.”
“Satisfactory?” Cameron echoed, his voice raised a pitch.
“Cameron,” Abbi said gently. Maggie knew it was her mother’s way of reminding him to stay calm.
“Father,” Maggie leaned over the table, “you have admitted yourself that this marriage will be advantageous for both our countries.”
“Yes,” he had to agree, “but that’s not enough reason to—”
“It’s reason enough for me,” Maggie insisted, her voice picking up an edge. “It’s my life and my choice.”
Cameron said nothing, but the muscles in his face tightened.
“I’m certain she will like Rudolf,” Abbi said to her husband, and Maggie calmed somewhat.
“Like?” he chuckled satirically and shook his head. “I don’t know if this is right or not.”
“Really, Father,” Maggie assured him as she stood to leave, “it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be happy enough.”
“She’ll be happy enough,” Cameron repeated after Maggie had left the room. “Abbi, my love, does she have any idea what she’s getting herself into?”
“I don’t know.” Abbi tried to smile. “She’s convinced that she’ll be an old maid at the ripe age of nineteen. She just wants to get married and be settled.”
“Well, I hope you understand that. I don’t.”
“Cameron,” she said gently, “you should know by now that there is no changing Maggie’s mind once she’s set it to something. We can’t make her choices for her. I’m as concerned as you are, but the more you try to talk her out of it, the harder she will fight to defend her ground. She’s come to take her role as the duke’s daughter very seriously. Perhaps it’s important for her to know that her life will benefit Horstberg.”
“It’s not enough,” Cameron said. “I swore years ago I would never force my children into political marriages and—”
“And you haven’t. It was her idea. She’s a woman now, Cameron. If this is what she wants, we’ll just have to hope it works out. Rudolf is a good man. He’ll treat her well.”
“But, Abbi . . . hasn’t she seen in you and me what real love is like? I thought our children would want that.”
“Perhaps,” Abbi sighed, “she is taking for granted that all marriages are that way.”
The duke leaned back in his chair and blew out a long breath of worry. “Well, I hope it’s right. I’m sending the messenger out this morning with the finalizing decree. And they’ll be here on Friday.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine, dear.” Abbi stood and kissed her husband lightly.
“I will have to take your word for it.” He grinned and pulled her onto his lap to kiss her again.
Maggie found Erich and Han in the stables, laughing like children, while Sonia listened with amusement and stroked her cherished mare.
“Good morning, Princess Maggie,” Han said as she entered and forced a smile toward him. Erich continued with whatever he’d been telling Han, and Maggie listened indifferently. She had become well accustomed to waiting for them.
Han and Erich were divided in age by only a matter of months. Han’s mother, Elsa, had been Abbi du Woernig’s personal maid even before Abbi had become the duchess, and it had only been recently that Elsa had more or less retired, still spending most of her time with Abbi simply because she wanted to. Abbi and Elsa had remained close as friends, just as their sons were. Abbi had insisted on having her children with her as much as possible in spite of her position, and she had enjoyed having Han around as a playmate for Erich, right from infancy. Han, being an only child, had been raised alongside the du Woernig children. Having grown up together, Erich and Han were naturally close as friends. And though Maggie was occasionally amused by their boyish ways, she was more disgusted by the way men of twenty-two years could act so childish.
In her youth, Maggie had often felt envious of their friendship. There had been no servant girls at the castle near her age that she’d been close to. And being a princess had left her basically secluded from the rest of the world. Her parents had always encouraged her to spend leisure time with Sonia. But though her younger sister was nice enough to be around and they had rarely quarreled, there was much more than two years separating them. Beyond their red hair, they looked nothing alike. It was difficult for Maggie to understand why Sonia was blessed with such a well-curved figure, while Maggie was so slight. Still, their differences went far deeper than appearance. Sharing little common ground, they found it difficult to have fun together the way Erich and Han always had.
“Are you two going to stand around and gab all day,” Maggie demanded, “or are we going riding?”
Han’s eyes glowed with amusement as he helped her mount while Erich quickly finished his story. Han smiled complacently toward Maggie, and she hated him all the more for the way he was so perfectly respectful whenever anyone else was around. If she tried to tell anyone that Han was rude and impertinent with her, no one would ever believe her. And it made her angry.
Not long after the threesome arrived at the meadow, Maggie noticed again the man she’d seen earlier, sitting on his horse near the edge of the forest. She was grateful for Erich’s presence, and she and Sonia remained behind him as the rider approached. Initially, Maggie felt the same apprehension as she had earlier, but watching him come closer, her suspicion faded into intrigue.
“Good morning,” he said, halting in front of them and showing an easy smile. “It is a beautiful day.”
“It is,” Erich replied. “You are a stranger here,” he added in a tone that indicated this man did not recognize them as members of the royal family.
“Actually, no,” the man replied, and Maggie couldn’t help but think him handsome. His features were strong, as was his stature, and his dark hair was styled to do him justice. “I was born in south Horstberg. I’ve never been to this side of the valley.”
Maggie knew what that meant, but he didn’t appear to be the type from that area. He had a certain dignity about him that was usually absent in the common laborers who typically lived in a part of the country known for poverty and crime that often required government assistance or military intervention.
“This land belongs to the du Woernig family,” Erich stated with his natural nobility.
“Ah.” The man smiled and glanced overtly toward Maggie. She turned away, feeling an indiscernible rush of excitement. “The du Woernigs. The family of Horstberg.”
Erich remained silent and the man went on. “I am trespassing then,” he said with no apology in his tone. “You must forgive my ignorance.” Still no one replied. Erich was well known for his silent, imposing manner.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man continued easily, not seeming unnerved by the lack of response he was getting in this conversation. “My name is Nikolaus Koenig.” His eyes darted to Maggie. “And you are . . .” He raised his brows toward Erich.
“Erich . . . du Woernig.”
“Ah,” Nikolaus Koenig said easily, not seeming the least bit surprised. “So I have come upon the du Woernigs.” He looked shamelessly toward Maggie and added, “How delightful. You must introduce these lovely ladies.”
“My sisters,” Erich replied. Maggie couldn’t tell if he liked this Mr. Koenig or not, but he gave no further introduction.
“I am very pleased to meet you,” Mr. Koenig bent gallantly, “Your Highnesses.”
Maggie felt herself smile as their new acquaintance met her gaze and held it. A fluttering surged through her, and she looked quickly away.
Nikolaus Koenig seemed pleased by her reaction, but he turned his attention again to Erich. “I have heard much of your family. My mother has always shown quite an interest in royal gossip—if you will forgive the term. But I had no idea the famed princesses were so lovely.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Koenig.” Erich eased his mount forward, and Sonia moved close behind her brother.
“A pleasure indeed,” Mr. Koenig replied and Erich rode away with Sonia. But Maggie felt momentarily compelled to stay.
“Do princesses know how to speak?” Mr. Koenig asked her, showing a pleasant smile.
“Of course,” she replied. “I saw you riding this morning.”
“It was you,” he reassured himself. “Did I frighten you?”
“Only briefly,” she replied, wondering what she was feeling.
Erich noticed his sister lagging behind and turned back. “Come along, Maggie.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Koenig,” she said, easing her horse forward.
“Wait,” he seemed almost panicked, “will I never see you again?”
Maggie smiled. “I’m not certain.”
“Meet me,” he pleaded, “later.”
“Maggie!” Erich called impatiently, and she was glad her brother couldn’t hear their conversation.
“I . . . don’t know,” Maggie said, wanting desperately to see him again but not knowing for certain what was best. I am betrothed, she told herself.
“Please,” he said, “only for a few minutes. I would like to talk to you.”
Again, Erich called for Maggie, turning around to come and get her personally. Impulsively she replied, “All right, Mr. Koenig.”
“Call me Nik.” He smiled and sighed with apparent relief.
“Very well, Nik, I’ll come back here . . . around five o’clock.”
“I’ll be here,” he said and turned the opposite direction, riding quickly away.
Maggie watched him a moment then rode to catch up with Erich and Sonia.
Returning to the castle brought Maggie back to reality. While she hardly understood what she was feeling, she couldn’t deny the regret gradually seeping through her as she went into town with her mother and was fitted for her betrothal gown. The regret became completely unbearable by the time she returned to the meadow at precisely five and saw Nikolaus Koenig riding toward her. Suddenly Maggie didn’t want to be betrothed. There was a new desire in her to experience life. And now this marriage to Rudolf, the son of a count, seemed very sordid and dooming.
“Thank you for coming,” Nik said when he came near. Maggie managed a smile in spite of her oppressive thoughts. “Come,” he added, moving toward the forest. Maggie followed, stopping when he did at the edge of the trees. He dismounted and tied off his horse, then he held up his hand for her. “Shall we walk for a few moments?”
Maggie hesitated before silently slipping her gloved hand into his. She felt a tingly sensation from his touch as he helped her down. She was briefly reminded of the time when she and Han had . . .
The memory prodded at something painful, and she pushed it away. Focusing on the man at her side, she wondered momentarily if it was a good idea for her to be here, for a number of reasons. But impulsively, she threw all reasoning away and walked with him.
“Princesses do speak,” he said, “but not very much.”
“I’m not certain what to say, Mr. Koenig,” she replied.
“My name is Nik.”
“I think Mr. Koenig would be more appropriate.”
“On the contrary,” he said easily, “walking alone in the forest calls for given names.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“But you want to,” he said with impeccable confidence, and she couldn’t argue. She noticed then how tall he was. No taller than Erich or Han. But Maggie had inherited her mother’s petite stature, and standing near this man, she was very aware of his height.
“May I call you Maggie?” he asked, looking toward the ground.
“I don’t know if you should.”
“Why not?” he stopped and turned to face her with intense question in his eyes.
“I . . . I’m betrothed.”
Nik’s expression hardly changed, but he asked quickly, “Do you love him?”
“I’ve not . . . met him,” she replied, “but I—”
“Then you must call it off,” he interrupted adamantly.
“I think I should go, Mr. Koenig.” Maggie started to move away, but his arm came around her waist, bringing her to an abrupt halt as he turned her to face him.
“Deny it!” he challenged.
“What are you talking about?” She barely breathed, wondering for a moment if she had put herself into some kind of danger. But she couldn’t think of any logical reason why he would do her harm in any way.
“You don’t even know him, yet you are willing to become his wife. You hardly know me, but can you deny what you’re feeling?”
Maggie wanted to say something in her defense, but she wasn’t accustomed to feeling this way any more than she was accustomed to being treated in this manner. She had no idea how to react on either count.
“You see,” he said softly, bringing his fingers to her face, “you can’t deny it.”
Maggie was trying to tell herself that she must remember her position—and the part of the valley this man was from. It wasn’t right or suitable. Her mind protested as his face moved close to hers. But as his lips met hers softly, she recalled her parents talking about falling in love as opposed to arranged marriages. The very idea was so confusing, she nearly felt dizzy.
Nik’s kiss left her breathless, and then he whispered close to her face, “May I call you Maggie?”
“Yes,” she heard herself say, “yes, Nik, you may call me Maggie.”
“Good,” he smiled, still holding her very close, “I always wanted to fall in love with a princess.”
Maggie wanted to tell him that he couldn’t possibly be in love; they had only just met. But he bent to kiss her again, and she thought that she couldn’t lie to him.
“I should get back,” she said when his lips pulled away. “I will be missed if I don’t return soon.”
“You must call it off, Maggie,” Nik whispered adamantly, and she felt almost hypnotized by the way he affected her. She made no reply, but he looked into her eyes, seeming satisfied for some reason. Maggie wondered if he could see the unrest he had already created within her.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” Nik asked, helping her mount Pagan.
“I . . . uh . . . yes.”
“When?” he asked, looking up at her, holding her hand firmly. “You tell me when you can get away, and I’ll be here.”
“Uh . . .” Maggie paused, certain she had never stammered so much in her life. “Same time,” she said.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” He smiled then kissed her hand, and she rode away.
Maggie’s confusion only deepened through a sleepless night. The experiences of her youth had taught her to take her role as the duke’s daughter very seriously. Her family had never been very pleased with her attitude—and Han was downright belligerent over it. Though she couldn’t blame him. And she couldn’t really expect any of them to understand. They often embarrassed her by their down-to-earth manner in ruling a duchy. She knew her father was a good ruler, but she couldn’t believe how he managed to blend in with the commoners at times. Maggie, however, felt it was important to keep the distinction of royalty very clear. She had once sworn to never marry beneath her. Her betrothal to Rudolf was something she’d felt good about. Sonia had had the nerve to say that Maggie only wanted to get away from Horstberg and be flaunted about like a royal treasure bestowed upon Rudolf’s family. They’d argued for more than an hour before Maggie had finally called her sister some awful things and stormed out of the room. She didn’t like the image of herself that Sonia had implied. But now as she thought of Nik Koenig, something about her motives for marrying Rudolf began to make her uneasy.
Maggie knew that Erich also strongly disapproved of her betrothal. He’d made that clear on several occasions. Her parents had attempted to discuss it with her repeatedly. But Maggie’s mind had been made up, and she’d refused to listen. And now . . . Nikolaus Koenig had sparked something in her that she’d not felt in years. Or had she ever? She hardly considered her little fling at the age of fourteen to count for much in the way of experience. Though she knew Han would disagree, she felt certain it had been nothing more than puppy love. Her memories of their relationship were vague and obscure, but then the entire thing had ended so horribly that she’d chosen not to think about it at all . . . until now. What was it about Nikolaus Koenig that suddenly made her question things she’d felt so strongly about before? How could their brief encounters force her to take a hard look at her resolve concerning matters of love and marriage? And why did her thoughts carry her—almost against her will—back to her experiences with Han? Rather than contemplating too deeply why, Maggie simply came to the conclusion that what Nik made her feel had changed her mind. It was as simple as that. She contemplated her parents and the love they obviously shared. Her mother had no royal blood, but she was well suited to her father, and she filled her obligations as the duchess with dignity and competence. Maggie had been hearing her parents harp for years about marrying for love. Only now did it make any sense at all.
With her mind made up, Maggie finally fell asleep before dawn and missed breakfast. An intense excitement accompanied her through the remainder of the day and right up until her meeting with Nik in the meadow as she had promised. He laughed as he helped her dismount, immediately pulling her into his arms with a hungry kiss. And she offered no resistance.
Maggie waited for him to ask the inevitable question, and her answer was well prepared. She was by no means certain whether or not Nik was the right man for her. But he had made her realize one thing. The right man was not Rudolf. She had made up her mind to call off the betrothal before it was too late. And whether or not it was Nikolaus Koenig, she would marry a man she loved.
“Well,” he asked impishly, “I know you’ve been thinking. I can see it in your eyes. Are you still betrothed?”
“Yes,” she said.
“And?”
“And what?” She prolonged her answer on purpose.
“Surely you must have reconsidered this betrothal. How can you possibly go through with it?”
“You are taking a great deal for granted, Mr. Koenig. We only just met yesterday.”
“You are trying to deny it again,” he stated with conviction. “You must be mine, Maggie. Now that I have found you, I will not let you marry this man you do not know.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy. You must know this betrothal is not right, and you—”
“That is one thing I do know,” she said with a smile. “I am not certain who I will marry, but it will not be Rudolf.”
“Maggie,” he whispered, and his eyes widened. “Are you telling me . . . Are you still betrothed?”
“Yes,” she stated then laughed, “but not for long.”
“Ah,” he laughed with her and pulled her up off the ground, turning her around in circles, “I knew you would do it.”
“I haven’t talked to my father yet,” she said as he set her down and she leaned heavily against him from the dizziness, “but I will . . . tonight.”
“Do you think he will be agreeable?”
“I don’t know,” she said, certain her father’s initial reaction would not be pleasant. “But I think I can win him over eventually.”
“I must know right away,” Nik said intently. “I can’t wait until tomorrow to find out what happened. You must meet me tonight.”
“I don’t know if I . . .” Maggie hesitated, recalling the many times she had sneaked out of the castle late at night just to ride—simply for the adventure. She knew she could pull it off, but she wasn’t certain whether or not she should. Han had always helped her when she’d done it before, and she felt certain she could coerce him into doing it again, but she didn’t necessarily want to. Still, the temptation was too great. Nik looked into her eyes, and she felt compelled to follow the impetuous mood he inspired in her. “All right,” she said, and he smiled. “Meet me here a little past midnight.”
Nik laughed and kissed her again. Maggie rode home, feeling real excitement for the first time in years—if ever.
“Hello, Han,” she said pleasantly as he helped her dismount.
“My, but aren’t we cheerful today!” He smirked, but she ignored it. Nothing could deter her enjoyment.
“Yes,” she said, “I believe we are. Han?” she added carefully.
“She wants something,” he said more to himself as he pulled the saddle from Pagan’s back. “She’s always cheerful when she wants something.”
She ignored his comment. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Not another midnight ride!” He looked at her with exaggerated shock. “Just what is it that gives you these bizarre urges? Is your life really so dull that you have to sneak out all by yourself just to ride a horse in the dark?”
“Yes,” she smiled, “it really is.”
“And you will insist I come out here to saddle a horse for you and lie on your behalf in case anyone finds out.”
“You always have before.” She smiled easily.
“Only because I felt sorry for you,” he said quite seriously. “You’ve got to have some kind of excitement. If I didn’t play along with your silly games, you’d get none at all.”
“There was a time you didn’t think it was silly,” she said.
Han turned to look at her, forcing himself to not gape in astonishment. It was the first time in over four years that she’d even hinted at any acknowledgment of what they had once shared. Determined to not let her affect him, he simply replied, “That was before you declared your royal proclamation that I was not allowed to come with you . . . Your Highness.” He added the title with a subtle sarcasm that was difficult for him to avoid.
“Well,” Maggie said complacently, “if you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. I’ll go bareback and do all of the lying myself.”
“My,” he smirked again, “but aren’t we determined! Something’s gotten into Her Royal Highness.”
“Will you or won’t you?” she asked. “Just tell me so I’ll know.”
“I take it you’re going out whether I help you or not.”
“You’re very perceptive, Han.”
“Well, I’ll not have no one knowing where the princess is. I’ll be here—if only to make certain you come back when you’re supposed to.”
“Are you trying to say that you still worry about me . . . in spite of it all?” she asked.
“Are you joking?” he countered easily. “If anything happened to you, your father would find a way to blame it on me and have me hung, no less. I’ll be here,” he added, walking Pagan to his stall. “I don’t know why I’ll be here, but I’ll be here.”
“Thank you, Han,” she said. He only glanced toward her and cursed under his breath. But Maggie ignored him. Her mind was preoccupied with the way it felt to be kissed by Nik Koenig. She was so elated, even telling her father to call off the betrothal didn’t seem terribly ominous.