And now…Creatures randomly spread were an offence against nature for one highly bred collie. Deefer was round the lake in a blur of canine happiness, reaching the swans long before Holly could reach him; long before her yells had any impact.

He launched himself into their midst, yipping with high-pitched excitement, but working with the innate intelligence of his breed. After that first initial scattering he’d figured his mistake. Now he was racing round the outside of the entire group, causing them to rear up, flap their wings in alarm, back away, snapping, screeching…

A lesser pup than Deefer might be intimidated. These birds were three times his height. But a dog had to do what a dog had to do. He was darting in and out so fast the birds could hardly figure what he was doing. He had them totally bewildered. Amazingly they were even starting to cluster together. He was herding them like a professional. Why didn’t they fly away? Holly thought, racing past the massed bushes between her and her dog.

And it was no longer just Holly who was panicking. There were shouts from the palace balconies, audible above the music. Others were running as well-the man Holly recognized as the head gardener and two younger men.

She glanced sideways at them as she ran-and then her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. One of the men had a gun. A rifle. He was raising it. Aiming…

‘No,’ she screamed. ‘No.’

But the guy still had his gun levelled. He wasn’t looking in her direction and the music was louder where he was. Could he hear her?

‘No,’ she screamed again. ‘He’s mine.’ But the man was steadying. His companions had paused to give him freedom to aim.

She was so close. She rounded the last clump of bushes and launched herself in a flying tackle she didn’t know she was capable of. But too late? Too late? The gun exploded in a blast of noise. She felt a sting across her cheek and heard a man’s shouted expletive.

But she had him, Deefer, an armload of overexcited pup. She was lying full length, rolling with him under her, hugging him, weeping, while swans went everywhere. She didn’t care, she didn’t care, she had her pup. He was wriggling. He was okay. She closed her eyes…

‘Holly…’

And amazingly, miraculously, she heard him. It was a shout from far away, but even so she heard the terror above the music.

Andreas.

Her face stung. She could feel the warm trickle of blood seeping down her cheek.

But Deefer was safe. He was wriggling frantically in her arms, desperate to escape, to continue his very important task.

‘Holly!’ The yell was nearer now, and someone switched the music off. She opened her eyes and rolled over, still holding her pup in her arms.

Facing men. All of them seemed to be groundsmen of some description. The guy with the rifle was staring down at her with horror. He was backing away, and by the look on his face he was expecting to be shot himself.

Then he was shoved aside, with such force that he almost fell. And Andreas was bending over her, his face such a picture of dread that she instinctively put her hand to her face in case his expression was right and the shot had been…dreadful.

It wasn’t. She could feel a faint scoring of her skin and the blood was a mere trickle.

‘It’s just a scratch,’ she said, more forcefully than she intended. Maybe she even sounded indignant, for the faces around her sagged in relief. But she only had the most fleeting of glimpses, for Andreas was bending over her, his fingers touching her face, his eyes searching for something more serious than the scratch on her cheek.

‘My love,’ he breathed, his voice cracking with raw fear, and he gathered her into his arms and tugged her hard against him. Somewhere in the middle Deefer, squashed, gave a muffled yelp of protest. But he was ignored.

Was she dreaming? She didn’t care. Holly abandoned herself to the feel of Andreas holding her, to the feel of his shirt against her face. She’d be bleeding all over him and how much was the royal shirt worth? She didn’t care. She stayed right where she was, unmoving, feeling his heartbeat, feeling his strength and his protection.

Her man had come home. When she most needed him, he was there.

It couldn’t last. There were voices behind them, the men around them trying to explain, trying to justify. Finally Andreas put her back from him. Deefer stuck his nose out from between them, but both of them were holding him now. Andreas swung Holly and dog into his arms, then sank so he was sitting on the grass with his wife cradled against him, the little dog held in their four loving hands.

‘Who shot my wife?’

It was a voice she’d never heard before. It held such anger, indescribable fury mixed with the remnants of fear, that Holly shivered. Andreas’s hold on her tightened.

‘Well?’

‘If you please, sir…’ It was the youngest of the groundsmen, the one with the gun. He took a step forward, and by the look on his face it was clear he was expecting the step to be his last.

‘He was trying to shoot Deefer…’ Holly managed, though her voice only managed a squeak. She looked up at the boy and thought he shouldn’t be so afraid. Not when things were okay. Not when she had Andreas. ‘I…At home we have to shoot wild dogs that get into the cattle.’

‘That’s it,’ the boy said eagerly, and the eldest of the groundsmen nodded.

‘That’s right,’ the man said. ‘We’ve had five swans killed over the last year. Something’s getting in through the boundary fences. The king’s orders are to shoot to kill whatever it is that’s killing them.’

‘When my wife’s in line of sight?’ Andreas said incredulously. ‘When you all know it’s her dog?’

‘I didn’t know it was her dog. And she just came flying from nowhere,’ the young man muttered, sounding sullen now. ‘No princess can run like that. And she just threw herself at the dog…’

‘If I hadn’t you would have killed him,’ Holly managed, defiant from the safety of Andreas’s arms.

‘Is she safe?’

The imperious demand from behind made them all start. A woman was making her way through the group of groundsmen and the men were falling back to let her past. It was Tia-of course it was. She was dressed in an immaculate linen suit and pearls that must be worth a king’s ransom. Her heels were totally unsuitable for walking on the grass, but then would any shoe dare to sink if Tia was wearing it?

But she looked…frightened.

‘She’s safe, Mother,’ Andreas said thickly and Tia’s face showed instant relief. But only fleetingly. She had herself under control in an instant.

‘I saw the dog attack the swans. You know your father’s orders. These are his swans. He’ll protect them at any cost.’

‘At the cost of Holly’s life?’ Andreas demanded incredulously. ‘I can’t believe you’d think that.’

‘Your father-’

‘My father’s dead,’ Andreas said flatly. ‘It’s not what he thinks now. It’s what you think.’

‘Of course it’s not what I think.’ She turned to the groundsmen, dismissing them with a wave. ‘Go back to work. I don’t hold you responsible for the girl’s hurt. You were following the king’s orders.’

‘But…’ the young groundsman stammered, still dazed.

‘My son’s wife will recover,’ Tia said. ‘I can see from here it’s a scratch.’ She permitted herself a wintry smile. ‘She’ll hardly sue.’ Then as the men hesitated she lowered her voice a notch. ‘Leave. Now.’

They went. Leaving Andreas holding Holly and Deefer, and the queen looking down at them, her face impassive. With Andreas glaring back at his mother as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘I don’t understand why the swans didn’t just fly away,’ Holly muttered, searching for something-anything-to take the look of anger from the faces of both mother and son.

‘They have their wings clipped,’ Tia told her. ‘They can’t.’

‘Despite the fact that swans will always come back to their home lake,’ Andreas said softly, his voice still laced with fury. ‘But my parents clip their wings to make sure.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…These are your father’s orders,’ Tia said. Her voice wasn’t as sure as it had been. She sounded suddenly shaky. ‘You know that, Andreas. It’s the way things are. And I told her to keep the dog in the stables.’

‘Holly comes with a dog. This is Holly’s home, Mother.’

‘It’s not my home,’ Holly said, struggling in his arms. He released her, reluctantly. She pushed herself to her feet and Andreas followed. She was feeling a little bit sick, she discovered. Her legs weren’t as steady as she wanted them to be. She needed to pull away from both of these royals-she needed to face them square on-but she needed Andreas’s support. But she still knew what needed to be said. ‘My home’s in Australia and I’m leaving.’

‘You can’t leave yet,’ Tia said, shocked, as Andreas’s expression snapped into a frown, and Holly shook her head.

‘I can leave any time I want. Isn’t that so, Andreas?’

He tugged her tight against him. She could feel the tension in his body; she could feel how close he was to snapping. There were tensions here that didn’t have anything to do with her. There were tensions she didn’t understand.

‘That’s right,’ he said softly, but there was no mistaking the steel behind the quiet words as he met his mother’s gaze, unflinching. ‘Holly married me to get us out of a mess. She’s fulfilled her part of the bargain. We’ve told the press that she’ll keep her property back in Australia, with intermittent visits from me. She’s free to go.’

‘Sebastian thinks it will be better if she stays,’ Tia said sharply.

‘Sebastian does not rule my private life,’ Andreas snapped. ‘As my father no longer rules yours. Maybe we both have to learn that. Meanwhile my wife is my business. If I say she can go, then she can go.’