He would have rather been alone at that moment, but Derek had never been one to take a hint. His younger brother had had a habit of shadowing him ever since they were small boys.

Outside, Gabriel walked to the edge of the terrace and just stood there in shock. The night's chill cut through his uniform, but he was numb; above, the stars were tiny pinp.r.i.c.ks of silver in the onyx night, too far above his reach to illuminate his darkness.

A short distance behind him, Derek halted with a palpable air of uncertainty. "Are you all right?"

In brooding silence, Gabriel lowered his gaze to the flagstone ground.

"You know that Gypsy girl I told you about?" he responded after a moment.

"Yes."

"It was her," he whispered in agony. "It was Princess Sophia."

"What?" Derek cried. "How? But-you're joking."

Gabriel turned around slowly and denied the charge with a sardonic shake of his head.

Derek stared at him in amazement.

Gabriel gave him a brief summary of how she had wound up at his farm, then he looked away.

"Gabriel, you have to quit!"

"Quit?"

"Yes, you must resign! You can't be her bodyguard when you're in love with her!" he insisted, keeping his voice down. "You've got to keep a clear head-"

"Who says I'm in love with her?"

Derek snorted.

"I am keeping a clear head. I'm trying! Derek, I can't leave her. She needs me."

"Does she know how you feel?" His eyes widened again. "Does she feel the same?"

Gabriel stared at him stoically. "I don't know."

"d.a.m.n, you are a scoundrel!" Derek let out a l.u.s.ty laugh and waved his hand in his direction. "Of all the men in the world to snare a princess, of course it would be you! How do you do it, really?"

"I'm glad you find my situation amusing."

"Ah, my poor brother. Look at you. Turning yourself inside out for this woman. That is indeed how it starts."

He slung his arm around his brother's neck and shook his head with a fond, low laugh. "But don't worry, old boy. It gets much better, I swear. Love is horrible at first, it's perfectly wretched. Believe me, I speak from experience. Every little thing she does can cut your d.a.m.ned heart out."

"Like dancing with a prince?" Gabriel asked, then looked askance at him. "It's not going to get any better, Derek. Not for me. Lily was perfect for you from the start, but this is hopeless. Anyone can see that." He shrugged off his brother's affectionate hold and paced away a few steps. "She's a hundred miles above my station, and now she's in the arms of a man who will crush her if she stays close to me. Even as my friend."

"Listen to you! It's only a dance, man! She hasn't married him yet. For G.o.d's sake, you are the Iron Major. It is nowhere in your nature to give up without a fight. Besides, look at Robert and Belinda! The family never mentions it, but we all know Bel was only his mistress, and yet she married a duke."

"Bel's a woman!" he retorted, scowling. "It's completely different when the lowborn one's the man."

"I would hardly call you lowborn. You've got a marchioness for a sister and a duke for a cousin-"

"I'm not a prince! Derek, I'd look like a fool following her around like a dog, even if she'd have me."

"We all have to sacrifice for those we love, Gabriel. I know better than anyone that you have never shrunk from that," he added softly, with a meaningful look reminding him of the moment he had put himself in the arrow's path to shield his little brother.

Gabriel turned away and paced again, stroking his jaw restlessly in thought. "My sacrifice is staying away, then. She may need to marry this Crown Prince b.a.s.t.a.r.d What's-His-Name for the good of her people. She loves her country, that's obvious. And if it matters to her, then it b.l.o.o.d.y well matters to me."

"You are so n.o.ble sometimes, you make me want to shoot you," his brother said mildly. Derek folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow as he studied him with a piercing look. "But this time, I think the problem might just be your ego."

"My ego?" he retorted.

"You'd rather spill your blood than sacrifice your warrior pride." He sauntered closer and looked him in the eyes with stark honesty and a brother's loyalty. "Tell me there is not some truth to that? So, you'd walk a step behind the chit for the rest of your days. So what? If that's the only way that I could be with Lily, I would take it in a heartbeat. h.e.l.l, if I had to wheel her around in a wheelbarrow wearing a loincloth like her slave-"

"Oh, shut up." Gabriel couldn't help laughing at the image as he turned away, shaking his head. "I swear, love has made you more of a madman than you always were."

"Ah, Shakespeare had something to say about that. Lovers, poets, madmen-seething brains, whatnot? Now, go in there and get your princess back from that overblown Hamlet! Something is rotten in Denmark, I say. If you want her, go and claim her! Either find a way or make one-"

"Wait!" Gabriel suddenly came to attention, silencing Derek and staring off toward the perimeter wall. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Did you see that?"

"No-"

"Shh! I heard something." He pointed, his finger slowly tracking along the wall. Then he narrowed his eyes, searching the darkness. "There is someone...in the shadows."

Movement.

Gabriel stepped up onto the stone bal.u.s.trade and jumped off the terrace into the soft gra.s.s below, instantly tearing off across the greensward toward the perimeter wall.

He pointed to the left as he ran, but Derek was already on it, charging to head off the intruder.

Ignoring the pull in his middle of newly mended muscle around his scar, Gabriel sprinted on, his gaze picking out a lone man who had spotted them coming and now was trying to flee.

"HALT!" he roared.

The slim, wiry man ignored him, leaping up to catch hold of the edge of the old medieval wall. Bearing down on him, Gabriel could see that the large pack slung over the man's shoulder added weight that impaired his ability to climb.

As he dangled there, trying to sling his leg up onto the top of the wall, Gabriel barreled into him and slammed him to the ground.

"Gun!" he yelled to warn his approaching brother, but the man did not have time to use it.

Gabriel ripped away the large pistol tucked into the front waistband of the man's trousers. The second he turned to hurl the man's weapon far over the wall, out of harm's way, the wiry fellow scrambled to his feet and went bolting off again.

Derek headed him off this time, his arms out wide; the intruder veered to the side and tore between two tall shrubberies, but when he came barreling out the other side, Gabriel was already there.

"Get him!" Derek belted out.

"Leave me be!" a c.o.c.kney voice yelped, the intruder's decidedly unhandsome English face filling with terror at the realization that he was caught between two ruthless warriors who were both inclined to break him like a toothpick.

As the weasel tried to dart past him, Gabriel tackled him to the ground.

The wiry captive began flailing and thrashing as Gabriel held him down. "Help! Help! Oppression! Tyranny!"

"What?" Derek exclaimed as he ran over to help.

"Overthrow the government! Death to Lord Liverpool! Tyrants-Tories!" the man yelped, wriggling like a worm after the rain. "The prime minister is a criminal! Burn the Home Office! Disband the corporations!"

Gabriel smacked him in the head. "Would you shut up?"

From the corner of his eye, he could see a number of men from the garrison rushing over to join them.

"Check the wall to make sure he was alone!" he ordered loudly. "Go! We have everything under control here. Then back to your posts!"

"Aye, sir!"

"Here are manacles if you want them, Colonel."

"Yes. Give them to me."

One of the soldiers gave him the shackles for their captive as the others scattered to search for any other intruders who might have snuck in with the man. Gabriel intended to find out exactly how the detestable Jacobin had breached security. But as he took a moment to catch his breath, he could not help but send up a prayer of relief to see that this lunatic had arrived with an entirely different agenda. Unless it was a ruse-and he would soon find out for sure-this man's hatred seemed to be clearly aimed at the Tory government, not at Sophia.

"Burn the Home Office!" his foaming tirade continued. "Hang the prime minister-"

"That will do," Gabriel ordered him curtly.

Derek bent down and glowered at him. "Didn't you know this party was by invitation only?"

"Look at you two! You're slaves and you don't even know it-" The intruder swallowed his words with a wide-eyed gulp when Gabriel scowled at him.

"G.o.d, I hate radicals," Derek muttered. "Don't you people ever bathe?"

"What have you got in the bag, fool?"

"Let's have a look. Ah, hand grenades," Derek said, inspecting the man's lumpy canvas pack. "Clever lad, he even remembered to bring a flint to light the matches with."

"You treasonous wretch, what were you going to do, blow up the ball?"

"Freedom!" the wiry man yelped.

"I think you mean anarchy, you ungrateful puke." He rolled him facedown into the gra.s.s and clapped the manacles on him. "Get up!" he ordered, hauling him to his feet.

The moment he had the prisoner under control, Gabriel's thoughts returned to the conversation they'd been having before the interruption. "So, what do you think I should do, then?" he persisted, ignoring the prisoner's thrashing about as they began marching him back to the castle.

"You're asking my opinion?"

"You've always been better with women than me. What would you do? Would you resign from this post?"

"h.e.l.l, no." Derek glanced at Gabriel and started to speak again, but was interrupted by the lurching dunce they had captured.

"Burn the Parliament! Burn-"

"Shut up!" Derek ordered, wrenching him a bit. At once, the man tried to make himself as limp as a noodle. "Oh, stop that. Don't be a churl. Will you walk or would you rather we drag you?"

"You were saying?" Gabriel prompted as they commenced dragging the would-be anarchist by his heels across the gra.s.s.

"I'd keep my distance," Derek replied, "but I admit, I'd have to stay until I had ripped the heads off anyone who wanted to hurt her."

"Then, we concur."

"But, now, after that job was done, mind you..." Derek gave him a roguish wink.

Gabriel snorted. "If I'm still alive."

"Well, in my experience," Derek said mildly as they reached the stone steps up to the terrace and hauled the prisoner to his feet, "you don't die so easily."

"True, that," Gabriel admitted with a nod, then turned to the prisoner. "On your feet again. We're taking you in."

"What are you going to do with him? Hand him over to the captain?" Derek inquired, taking hold of the man's other arm.

"In due time. First, I think I've got another use for him."

"You'll not torture me! Help!" Since his arms were pinned, he started flailing his long, skinny legs.

"Torture?" Derek exclaimed, helping Gabriel to keep him still. "Too bad we're not in India. Then we could hand you over to the chaps who do that business properly."

"Who's that?" the disheveled radical asked, his gaze darting about wildly.

The brothers exchanged a grim glance and then just started laughing.

Leaving the dance floor, Sophia had beckoned Alexa over to sit with her as a buffer between her and the very interested prince. The man wouldn't let her out of his sight. But they had barely taken their seats again when the captain of the garrison came marching over to her with a curt, martial bow. "Your Highness?"

"Yes?" both she and Crown Prince Christian Frederick said at once.

Alexa giggled.

"I think he meant me," Sophia said politely.

"Ah, of course," His Highness said.

The captain cleared his throat. "Princess: The chef requires your opinion about the, er, pastries."

Alexa wrinkled her nose. "The pastries?"

Sophia stared at the captain. Uh-oh.