Page 13 of Falling for the Widowed Prince

He took a step back. "Is there someone who can assist you? Be with you as you look through the relevant chapters for information that could lead to the status of the Letters Patent?"

What could be behind his question? "I could call someone I went to university with. There are several in the city who understand the need for discretion as well as being incredibly competent."

"I would ask that you do so, and let that person take the lead in discovering the history of those three kings."

She leaned back in her chair and stared up at him, noticing again his dark eyes. The intense pain had given way to deep sorrow that likely wouldn't leave for quite some time. "May I ask why someone else needs to do it? It's my job as Royal Historian to do these things. I should be the one reading through it for the first time."

He tilted his head in acknowledgment. "I know, however, for reasons I'm not at liberty to discuss right now, I would ask that you bring someone else in - perhaps two or three people if you can trust them implicitly - to read through the contents under your supervision." A glance to one corner of the room confused her. "Everything in here is recorded, correct?"

"Yes." They'd discussed that several times before.

"How soon can you arrange for someone to be here and document what's in there?"

"I can make a few calls and try to get them here today. It depends on who's in town but not in the middle of some other big project." A couple of names came to the forefront of her mind.

"This is of the utmost national importance." Those words meant something. "Do what you need to do to get this started as soon as possible."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead turned and left without another word.

After securing the book and the room, Madeleine went to her office and opened her contacts on her phone. She didn't understand what was running through Prince Anthony's mind, but she felt like these calls needed to come from her official phone and not her mobile.

"Tristan Goodey.”Her ex-boyfriend's voice came through loud and clear.

"This is Madeleine. Are you in town?" Just jump right in.

"For the moment. I'm leaving tomorrow to visit my sister in the States. What's up?"

She took a deep breath and dove in. "I have a special project at the palace, a project of the utmost national importance." He would know what those words meant. "I need someone I can trust to assist with it. I wouldn't think it would take more than a few days, but it's time sensitive and starts immediately. Are you interested?" She held her breath.

They'd dated briefly in university and parted as friends, spending much of their undergrad studies in the same classes. He'd excelled in all of them.

The seconds of silence stretched into a minute. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He would want tovisit his sister, but opportunities like this didn't come along very often.

"What's the artifact?"She knew what his decision would be as soon as he asked the question.

"A book. Even if you participate in the project, it's likely you won't know the full details of why the information is important. I'm not even certain I know the full details. In fact, I know I don't." She almost said something about how you didn't say no when the prince consort asked, but she couldn't even tell him that much. Not yet.

"Let me call my sister. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Every night,one of the nannies was on call. One slept in a nearby room previously used by Ladies in Waiting. If Anthony needed to leave the family quarters, all he needed to do was give her a call. She'd move to the main quarters to ensure the children were taken care of.

When Ms. Woodward called just after midnight, it seemed like she held back some excitement. That would be a good sign.

It did bother him a bit that he debated so long about what to wear. He settled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt proclaiming his allegiance to a baseball team in the States. Someone had given it to him on one of his visits.

As he walked through the outer gallery, he could hear voices coming from Ms. Woodward's office, but he didn't recognize them.

When he entered the doorway, three people jumped to their feet and bowed their heads his direction. He noticed Ms. Woodward didn't, but he'd seen her earlier in the day.

Though she hadn't followed protocol then either. Interesting. For someone who'd always insisted on doing so, it seemed a bit odd.

"Sir, these are three of the best archivists in the area."

She introduced them one at a time.

Two appeared to be about her age, but the third was a fair bit older. When she titled the man as "professor" it made sense. It didn’t escape his notice that Ms. Woodward was the only female in the group.

Ms. Woodward held a hand out toward the door. "Why don't we go into the conference room?"

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