Always - Iris Johansen [44]
“Not even a whisper. I called Berthold and told him to keep an eye out in case Baldwin returned to the island, and also contacted our operatives in the U.S. and alerted them.” Galbraith paused. “But you don’t really think he’ll return to either place, do you?”
“No. I think he’ll go to Said Ababa and join his terrorist friends. He knows he’ll be safe there.” Clancy’s tone roughened. “And with their contacts in Sedikhan, he won’t find it difficult to discover where Lisa can be found. It’s a combination he’ll find hard to resist.”
“Then hadn’t you better return to Marasef? You’re pretty isolated out there in the desert.”
“On the contrary, in the starkness of the desert you notice anything unusual at once. I can’t say the same about a crowded city like Marasef. I want you to send a few of our best men out here tomorrow. Tell them they’ll pose as servants. I don’t want Lisa worrying about all this.”
“You’ll be staying out there indefinitely?”
“Until we get Baldwin.” There was a slightly sardonic note in Clancy’s voice as he added, “It would be nice if you made the effort to capture him before we have to confront him here. If it’s not too much bother.”
“Testy, aren’t we?” Galbraith asked lightly. “I’ll do everything short of crossing the Said Ababa border. Okay?”
“Okay, and for God’s sake keep in touch.”
Clancy hung up the receiver and stared at it abstractedly for a moment. He had been a little testy. He knew Galbraith would do everything possible to capture Baldwin if he crossed the border. It was just that he was so damned scared for Lisa.
He checked his watch and then moved swiftly to the door. Fifteen minutes had already passed, and he wanted to shower and change before he joined her. An elegant tuxedo wouldn’t turn him into the kind of glamorous knight a princess deserved, but by God, he could try.
TO LISA’S RELIEF, dinner was served in a small oval dining room instead of the high-ceilinged hall she had glimpsed from the foyer. The walls were hung with rich tapestries faded with age and lit with flickering candles in a silver candelabra. The oak table was also oval and gleamed in the candlelight with an age-silkened patina. The entire castle had an air of dignity and grace, reminiscent of a bygone time, she mused. Though the modern comforts of electricity and efficient plumbing had been added, they hadn’t been allowed to interfere with the ambience of the place.
The maid who served them was quick and deft and appeared a little nervous as she moved around the table serving the delicious duck a l’orange. When a tiny drop of sauce dropped on Lisa’s placemat, she gasped with horror, her gaze flying to the figure of Marna Debuk standing unobtrusively just to the left of the doorway. Marna frowned. The girl gasped again and hurried from the room.
“What was that all about?” Lisa asked.
“It was nothing,” Marna said with a shrug. “I’m sorry the foolish girl was so clumsy. I will send in another maid from the kitchen.” She left the room, moving with surprising grace for a woman of her bulk.
Lisa met Clancy’s eyes across the table, and she grinned in amusement. “And I thought the headwaiter at the cafe was intimidating. I don’t believe I ever saw any of the waiters blanch and run from the room when Monty frowned.”
“But Monty wasn’t a gypsy believed to be able to cast spells and hexes,” Clancy said dryly. “His subordinates only have to worry about their jobs.”
“She’s a gypsy?”
“A genuine, card-carrying gypsy,” Clancy said with a grin. “There are several tribes in Tamrovia that travel in caravans around the countryside. She belongs to one of the more powerful ones.”
“But how did a gypsy become nursemaid to a royal princess?”
“Tradition. In olden times it was believed that gypsies had great magical powers, and to have one in attendance on their children was a social