The Princess (20 page)

“What will you do with it?” Nikolai asked as he started on his own meal.

“I’m not sure. I might ask my mother for some ideas. She’s good with that type of thing.”

Shelby was glad that Nikolai only nodded and continued to eat. She didn’t want to talk about this. She didn’t have time right now to think about redecorating. Indeed, having her bedroom and sitting room torn apart was the last thing she wanted at present.

The royal couple managed to talk during breakfast, but Shelby could feel the strain in herself. They shared the paper, and she smiled and laughed in all the right places, but just as soon as she was able, she left the room. She didn’t need to leave for an appointment for more than two hours, but she still felt a need to escape. She lasted only about 20 minutes before she went back to the kitchen, intent on finding Nikolai and asking him if he had noticed her unsettledness at breakfast. He was gone. Murdock informed her that he’d gone out to the skeet area. Shelby was forced to go to her appointment, not certain whether she needed to apologize or not.

“Of all the cookies you’ve made me, this batch of cookies was my favorite,” the queen mother told Shelby the following morning. “I think I could have one of these every day.”

“Well, do, and when you run out I’ll make more.”

“It’s a deal,” she said in her elderly voice, her eyes, still quite bright, smiling at Shelby where she sat holding the photo album. “Now this,” she said, her bent finger pointing, “is Rafe. You probably recognize him. And this little head at the edge of the picture is Nicky.”

“Where are they?”

“They’re skeet shooting.”

Shelby only nodded, but the queen mother was the second person in two days to mention skeet-shooting, and she was becoming curious. She knew nothing about it, only that it was scheduled to be part of the competition at the King’s Fair.

The queen mother sat next to Shelby on the deep sofa and watched her profile. That she had lost the younger woman was evident, and as she was tired, she let the silence linger.

I don’t believe we’ve ever had a redheaded king,
she told the Lord.
I do hope it will be a boy, tall and strong like Nicky. But You know me well, Father; I’ll gladly take a great-great granddaughter.

“Queen Miranda,” said Beckett, who suddenly appeared at the door. “Your son is here. May he join you?”

“Of course,” the queen mother said with a smile.

“Am I interrupting?” Anton asked as he entered the room.

“Not in the least. Come and sit with us.”

Anton kissed his mother and granddaughter-in-law and then took note of what they were doing.

“A walk down memory lane?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Indeed.” The queen smiled right back. “Shelby is the only person I’ve ever known who doesn’t tire of old family photos or slides from vacations.”

Anton laughed, but he could see that his mother was flagging. Shelby probably didn’t know her well enough to recognize the signs. He knew he must keep his visit short and somehow take Shelby with him when he left.

“I’m here about the King’s Fair, Mother,” he wasted no time in saying. “Did you remember that it’s coming up soon?”

“I did. I had my locking rings out last night to see if I could do a little something with them.”

“How did it go?”

“Fine for a few minutes, but my arms tired quickly.”

“In that case I think I have good news for you. Toby’s neighbor does magic tricks. He’s 11 and a rather somber child, but very intelligent and respectful. I thought the two of you could figure out a way to work together.”

“Would we need to meet today?”

“No, I can see that you’re tired,” Anton came right out and said. “If you’re interested, I’ll ask him to come in the morning.”

“Good,” the old queen replied. “Do that. I’ll look for him about nine, shall I?”

“Yes. Shelby and I will go now and let you rest, and if you change your mind about the morning, you need only call.”

“Anton, what’s the boy’s name?”

“Peter. Peter Owens.”

“And you say he’s 11?”

“Yes.”

The old woman nodded and smiled before putting a hand on Shelby’s arm. “Thank you for coming, my dear. We’ll visit again soon.”

Shelby smiled as she leaned to kiss the well-seamed cheek that smelled of wisteria. Anton rose when she did, and the two made their way from the west quadrant.

“I didn’t know she was tired,” Shelby admitted softly. “I’m sorry.”

“She hides it very well,” Anton said sternly of his mother. “She shouldn’t do that. I’ve told her many times, but she can be stubborn.”

“She’s so special. She told me all about the way she married into the royal family. I feel I’ve learned a lot.”

“She would be just the person to talk with, but you’re doing splendidly, Shelby. I hope you realize that.”

“Most days I’m afraid I don’t, but it’s nice of you to say.”

“Is something bothering you right now?”

“Yes, but it’s something very foolish.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Shelby stopped and looked up at him. “I don’t know anything about skeet shooting, and I’ve been told that Nikolai will shoot at the fair and so will the king.” Shelby shrugged awkwardly. “I just wish I knew more.”

“I’ll tell you what you can do.” Anton’s voice dropped in a conspiratorial tone. “Head out of town on the B48. Take it to the lake crossing and go right. You’ll stay on the road for about two miles, and then you’ll be at the skeet club.”

“I can go out there?”

“Anytime. They’ll show you around, let you shoot, answer your questions—anything you want.”

Shelby’s smile started slowly but grew huge. The king grinned back at her and fairly beamed when she went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Watching her walk away for several seconds, he wondered if his grandson had learned yet that she was one girl in a million.

Shelby glanced behind her to see if Kris was flagging. He looked strong, so she kept on toward her destination. Normally
she would not have been concerned, but he’d been a bit under the weather during the weekend. Gilbert had accompanied her on two excursions.

Today was Thursday. This morning she’d been given the restful news that because of a cancellation she had no appointments all day, and because the King’s Fair was just ten days away, she had immediately made other plans.

Shelby was beginning to think she’d misunderstood the directions when she saw the area ahead. “Royal Skeet Grounds” the sign read, and Shelby turned and pedaled along the road, Kris still trailing her. Not many minutes later Shelby pulled to a stop and surveyed the acres in front of her.

It was a lovely section in the capital city’s east end. Flat, wide-open fields stretched before her, and dotting the acres in a remarkably straight line were the shooting areas and the boxed mechanisms that released the clay pigeons. Kris rode up beside her as she sat, still astride her bike, both feet on the ground.

“I had no idea it would be so big,” Shelby said softly. She was not overly familiar with Kris and not surprised when he recited for her the total acres and said nothing more. Shelby smiled at him in thanks, knowing he would know, and then looked to see two men coming toward her.

“Princess Shelby,” the taller of the two spoke as soon as he was near, “King Anton’s minister called and said you might be coming. I am Matthews, and this is my assistant, Austin. May we show you around?”

“Thank you,” Shelby replied graciously, climbing from the awkward position on the bike. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Not at all. We have a small clubhouse with a cafe and gift shop. We would be most honored if you would join us.”

“And the prince’s gun is here,” the assistant added. “You may shoot if you wish.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to use the prince’s gun. I might break it.”

They were all denials and smiles over this, but Shelby’s mind was quietly made up. She had a wonderful time seeing the clubhouse, cafe, and shop, but when they went out to show her how the competition worked and offered her a shotgun, she would not take Nikolai’s.

“We have another one,” Austin offered. “I’ll just run and get it for you.”

Shelby smiled at his enthusiasm but felt a need to remind Matthews that she hadn’t done this before.

“I’ve never shot a gun.”

“The gun Austin is bringing is very basic. Feel free to try it.”

He was so eager to please her that Shelby knew she would have to try. She glanced at Kris, who had moved a discreet distance away, and wondered how she’d gotten herself into this.

“Here we are,” Matthews said joyfully as Austin came with the gun. He took it from his assistant’s hands and held it across the palms of his own. “Feel free, Princess Shelby.”

Shelby swallowed and lifted the gun. She was rather intimidated by the feel of it and the fear that she would hurt someone.

“It’s not loaded,” one of the men told her, but Shelby was still very careful. She turned out to look across the fields and even thought about raising the gun to her eye. She was looking down at the barrel, surprised by the length, when one of the men spoke to her husband. Shelby hugged the gun to her, the barrel next to her ear, and spun to see Nikolai towering over her.

“Hi,” he said softly as he gently removed the weapon from her grasp.

“It’s not your gun,” Shelby told him breathlessly, only too happy to relinquish the weapon. “I didn’t want to break your gun.”

“I’m not at all worried about your breaking my gun, but I’d rather you didn’t hug any gun close to your face.”

She watched him break the barrel, check the chamber, and close it again.

“It’s unloaded, as I was certain it would be, but you still shouldn’t point it toward your ear.”

Shelby nodded and bit her lip. How did he know she was here? She turned to question Matthews and Austin, but they had both started away.

“Did you want to try to shoot, Shelby?”

Feeling panicked, Shelby looked back at him and shook her head. Nikolai watched her and tried to find some words to take the fear from her face.

“Shelby, I’m sorry if—”

“I’m so embarrassed,” Shelby whispered, cutting him off. “I just wanted to see what it was like. I just wanted to watch. I didn’t know the gun would be so scary in my hands, but they wanted me to take it. They were so eager to show me, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

Had Nikolai not been holding the gun, he would have hugged her. “I’ll tell you what,” he said kindly. “Why don’t you sit here, and I’ll show you how this works.”

He took her hand and led her to a bench nearby. Shelby sat down and watched as he went to the box of shells, loaded the gun, and placed earplugs in his ears. Just a minute later he took position, shouted “pull,” and shot at the clay pigeon that was released. Shelby watched as the dishlike object burst in the sky. Nikolai then turned to look at her.

“That’s all there is to it,” Nikolai said easily. “Would you like to try it?”

“I think I’d rather watch you.”

Without a word, Nikolai turned and raised the gun again. He shot several more targets in the next few minutes, missing only the last one.

“I must be nervous with you watching me,” he said, his eyes on the reloading of his gun.

Shelby smiled. “I somehow doubt that.”

Nikolai slanted her a sidelong glance. “You might be surprised.”

Shelby couldn’t pull her eyes from his. He was devastatingly handsome to her right now, his eyes so blue and probing that Shelby felt her breath leave her in a rush. After a moment he turned back to the open fields.

“I think we’re making progress, Red. You didn’t even blush.”

Shelby bit her lip to keep from laughing even as she felt her face heat.

“But I won’t turn around right now,” Nikolai said with his back to her, “or I’ll be proved wrong.
Pull!”

Nikolai took several more shots, sometimes calling for two pigeons at a time, before setting his gun aside, removing the plugs from his ears, and waving to Matthews at the controls.

“You can still try to shoot if you’d like.”

“No, thank you. My family has never even owned guns, and I just wanted to see what skeet shooting was like before the fair.”

“I’m glad someone called me.”