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Authors: Deborah Smith

Follow the Sun (21 page)

BOOK: Follow the Sun
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Women fanned themselves fervently; men traded disgruntled looks of envy.

Tess looked Jeopard in the eye and saw exactly what she’d expected—a cool, perfect mask.

“I believe this will be the last dance,” she said with unsmiling aloofness. “Could we share it?”

He bowed slightly. “If Your Highness wishes.”

He held out one hand. When she touched the palm, she found it damp and cold, much like her own. She knew then that he shared her anguish, but the fact didn’t change what he’d done.

Jeopard took her in his arms as the orchestra began a dreamy, majestic waltz. She’d never danced with him before, but they melded with the same inner rhythm that made them so wonderful together in other ways.

No one else danced; the crowd seemed riveted—upset, perhaps, as word spread that the
prinsessa
was dancing with a common bodyguard.

“Why did you make a mockery of everything I feel for you?” she whispered. “Are you so easily turned away by what other people think of us?”

His hand tightened on her waist, and she saw a muscle flex in his jaw.

“I’m giving you the opportunity you deserve. There’s no other way I can make you look at what these people are offering you. As long as you’re with me, you won’t know how you really feel about all of this.”

“You think you’re so much wiser than I am. I hate your righteous attitude.”

“I feel older, but not wiser. It’s killing me to let you go.”


Let me go?
” She stared at him, while her stomach twisted with dread. “Did you know that tonight they’ve introduced me to a parade of blueblooded
bachelors, each acceptable as the queen’s consort? Do you approve of that?”

“Yes.”

Tess would have stumbled had he not held her closer. Rage and grief built inside her like a thunderstorm. “You asked me to marry you,” she reminded him. “And I agreed.”

“I won’t hold you to it.”

“Did I indicate that I’d ever let you out of it?”

He shut his eyes for a moment, and when he looked at her again they glistened with despair. “I’m letting you out of it. I’m leaving for America tonight.”


No
,” she said weakly, almost moaning the word.

“You stay here and look at this life without my interference. I’ll be waiting, and you’ll know where to find me.”

She started to speak.

“No, Tess, sssh. No vows, no promises that you’ll follow me. You’ve got to be honest with yourself and decide how you feel about the life you could lead here.”

Tears shimmered on her cheeks. “Your cynicism is breaking my heart. I’ll never forgive you for doubting me.”

He winced. “I’ll have to take that chance.”

The waltz ended. She swallowed harshly, and dignity was the only thing that saved her from digging her fingers into his coat in an attempt to hold him.

He lowered his head, brushed his lips over hers, then stepped back and bowed. Tess stood, frozen in unspeakable sorrow, as he walked away.

CHAPTER 12
 

M
ILLIE SURPRISE MCKAY
was no lightweight. She may have been small and pretty, with soulful green eyes and chin-length curly hair the color of old gold, but she was, in her husband’s adoring words, “a little Tasmanian devil.”

She’d mellowed only a bit since becoming the devoted mother of a sturdy baby boy nicknamed Zot because of certain impolite sounds he made.

And now she was standing in Jeopard’s office, looking deceptively delicate in a chic blue jumpsuit, while looking undoubtedly upset. She held a gurgling Zot under one arm; the other arm was held akimbo.

“Kyle called me,” she said sternly. “I caught the next plane out of Nashville.”

Jeopard gave her a hug, kissed Zot’s forehead, and led her to a couch. They sat down, with him slouched and her sitting anxiously on the edge of her seat.

Jeopard smiled at her. “How’s Brig? Still cutting the new album? I saw the interview in
People
last week.”

“Don’t change the subject. You’ve got to get yourself under control.”

“I am under control.”

“You’re wearing a piece of deer antler around your neck! Kyle told me that you rented a sailboat so that you could sit on it for hours every day and stare at the ocean! What is that stubble doing on your face, and why are you wearing shorts and a T-shirt in the office?

“Jep, unlike the rest of us, you were
born
elegant. To sum this up, right now you look like misery on two legs.”

“I’m happy to be miserable,” he said sincerely.


What?

“It’s good to have feelings again.” He cupped the antler amulet in one hand and rubbed it thoughtfully.

“Oh, Jep, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’ve never seen you this way before.”

“I’ve never been this way before.”

She sat Zot on the floor. He curled his lips back like a chimpanzee and made an eeking sound.

“My nephew has potential as a politician,” Jeopard observed.

“I read about Tess Gallatin in the paper yesterday.”

Jeopard looked at his sister dully. “I saw the article. All the wire services carried it. It was the first official announcement about her.”

“It sounds as if she’s going to accept the crown. At least, she didn’t say that she wasn’t. Jep, you’ve been home for three weeks and she hasn’t called you once.”

“That’s the way I wanted it.”

“You are one tough
hombre
. What are you going to do now?”

Jeopard cleared his throat, then got up and went to a window. He stood there, squinting narrowly in the bright Florida sun. “Keep waiting.”

“Oh, Jep,” Millie said sadly. “For how long?”

He lied. “I don’t know.”
For the rest of my life
.

•  •  •

 

P
EOPLE AT THE
Fort Lauderdale marina were beginning to whisper about him, but he didn’t care. He knew they thought it strange that he kept renting a sailboat just so he could sit on the aft deck in a lounge chair.

Well, hell. He’d never been whimsical before, and he wanted to practice.

Jeopard stood up, adjusted his sunglasses, and walked to the port railing. He fiddled with the chrome work on a post, polishing it distractedly. The newspaper article from the day before stuck in his mind. He’d read it so many times that he’d memorized it.

Sierdansk, Kara—Officials of the tiny Scandinavian principality of Kara announced today that they have verified the claim of an American woman who says she is the illegitimate daughter of the late Queen Isabella.

Tess Gallatin, a California resident, is the daughter of H. R. Gallatin, author of the well-known Sam Daggett adventure novels. Gallatin, now deceased, was a Cherokee Indian.

“We’re delighted that she’s come forward,” a palace spokesman said. “Everyone who’s met her has been thoroughly impressed.”

The Karan Parliament issued a resolution officially recognizing Ms. Gallatin’s royal titles. As the queen’s daughter she becomes Princess of Kara, Duchess of Olnawan. Duchess of Cedmur, and Countess of Arvbrijek.

Speculation is growing that she will succeed her mother as queen. The palace spokesman would not comment, but did confirm that the new princess will be interviewed on national television next week.

J
EOPARD STOPPED POLISHING
and stood quietly, all his energy and spirit submerged in missing her. He’d encouraged her to stay there; he’d asked for this; he’d once again fostered his own destruction.

But he’d done it unselfishly, and because he loved
her so much that he was a better man than he’d ever been before. He had no regrets.

The knowledge didn’t make his heartache much easier to bear.

“Captain Sundance, you really
must
leave the dock more often,” a soft English voice called. “Or does the idea of steering a boat still turn you into a bumbler?”

Jeopard whipped around. Tess stood on the dock, looking like peach sherbet, in a flowing shirtwaist dress and matching pumps. Tears streamed down her face, but she smiled giddily as he ran to the edge of the bow and looked at her.


Tessi.

Jeopard held out both hands. She took them and leaped gracefully onto the bow. For a moment she and he were too emotional to do more than face each other and share a look of tender greeting. Then she flung her arms around his neck and held him fiercely.

“Oh, Jep, being away from you was a special kind of hell.”

He groaned and took her in a deep embrace, then nuzzled his face into her dark hair. “When do you have to go back? I read about the television interview—”

“It’s already done,” she whispered, her breath warm and fast against his ear. “I taped it yesterday.”

“But—”

“I suppose you could say it’s my hello-and-good-bye interview.”

“What?”

She leaned back in the circle of his arms and gazed lovingly at him, then glanced at the antler amulet dangling on his T-shirt, Smiling, she slipped a hand inside the neck of her dress and drew out the chain bearing her Cherokee medallion.

Now it also bore the Blue Princess, in a delicate setting of gold filigree. “I found this in my room after you’d left,” she murmured, touching the diamond with a forefinger. “Thank you. I’ll consider it a sort of wedding present.”

Jeopard grasped her face between his hands and looked at her in bittersweet agony. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“That I’m here to stay and marry you, of course.”

“Tess, don’t—”

“I know what I’m giving up in Kara, and I don’t care. I only stayed until I’d settled my duties there.

“Jep, listen. Drake finally found someone on the reservation who could decipher the message on my medallion. I honestly believe that my great-great-grandmother wanted to send a message to her family for all the generations to come.”

“What does the medallion say?”

“On one side it says, ‘Katherine Blue Song, daughter of Jesse and Mary Blue Song, sister of Anna, Elizabeth, and Sallie. I left my family’s souls at rest in Blue Song land. Gold Ridge, Georgia, 1838.’

“On the other side it says, ‘Katherine Gallatin, wife of Justis Gallatin. A bluebird should follow the sun.’ ”

Tess kissed him gently. “Jep, it’s a prophecy, and old Dove Gallatin must have known that when she passed the medallions on to Erica, Kat, and me. I can’t wait to find out what their medallions say.”

“But how did you interpret yours to mean—”

“I’m the Blue Princess, and you’re from the sun land. I’m the last princess, just as Katherine was the last Blue Song. Don’t you understand? It all seems to hint that I’m
supposed
to follow the sun, just as my great-great-grandmother did. I’m
supposed
to marry you. I even call you Sundance. Do you think it’s all just whimsical coincidence?”

“Whimsical? No,” he said hoarsely. “Besides, what’s wrong with being whimsical?”

And then he kissed her until they were both laughing breathlessly.

SOMEDAY … 
BOOK: Follow the Sun
4.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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