Ever a Princess

  "The privilege is usually reserved for a husband or a lover," Adam whispered. "And if a lady decides to allow it, the man chosen for the privilege is honored to make sure the lady enjoys it."

  "Is that permissible?"

  "It's not only permissible, it's desirable," Adam whispered.

  Giana shivered as his warm breath caressed her ear. "For ladies as well?"

  "As far as I'm concerned," he said. "When a woman grants me the privilege of undressing her, I like to touch all of her. Beginning with her eyes, her lips, her breasts, and continuing until I know all her secret places." He touched each part of her with his gaze as he explained his preferences. "Shall I demonstrate?"

  Giana's eyes widened with each husky word, then darkened to a deeper blue as his meaning became clearer. "Adam!"

  "George," he breathed, bending closer to kiss her mouth, hard.

  She kissed him back, stopping only when she felt him deftly unhook the bodice of her pinafore and unbutton the top button of her dress.

  "Yes?" he queried.

  She was tempted. Tempted in a way that Princesses of the Blood Royal should never be tempted, but the newspaper stuck in the waistband of her drawers wasn't the only thing she was hiding. She couldn't allow Adam to unbutton her dress because she was wearing a fortune in family heirlooms concealed in the bodice of her dress, and that wasn't all....

  Giana was a walking, talking jewelry safe. There were gems sewn into the lining of her corset cover, the padding of her corset and the hems of most of her skirts. About the only thing not sewn into her clothing was the tiara she wore during official functions. It was concealed in the false bottom of her traveling case. There would be no way to conceal her identity if she allowed him to continue, for how would a chambermaid ever explain the presence of a king's, or in her case a princess's, ransom in precious stones.

  "I cannot," she whispered.

  "I should not," he admitted as his conscience returned with a vengeance. The girl lying with him on the leather sofa was an innocent in his employ. An apparently willing innocent, but an innocent nonetheless. And he knew better than to turn his attention to innocents. Especially innocents who looked like George.

  He knew better. But that didn't seem to matter. He wanted her. And what was worse than wanting to make love to her was knowing that she was everything he had always avoided in a lover. Adam exhaled.

  What was it about George that fascinated him so? He had never been attracted to tall, leggy, blondes before. They tended to remind him of his family. But he was attracted now. He wanted George. He couldn't seem to keep his gaze off her. He'd made a valiant effort, but he'd failed. She excited him. She challenged him. She fascinated him.

  He wasn't breaking the china and the crockery, but she was having a similar effect on him. It was all he could do to keep his hands off her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her. And that made him very nervous.

  The best thing he could do for the both of them would be to make her forget about him by turning his attention to someone else. Someone different. Someone safe. Someone like her sister, Brenna.

  Adam shifted his weight off her and helped her sit up. Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, he removed the door key and handed it to her. "I believe this is what you were looking for."

  Giana accepted it. "Thank you, sir." She stood up, walked over to the library door, and unlocked it.

  "My pleasure," Adam said. "Thank you most kindly for a very entertaining morning, Miss Langstrom."

  Giana opened the door, then glanced back over her shoulder to look at him. She was blushing. "You are most kindly welcome, sir."

  Adam grinned back at her. "Am I?"

  She met his gaze and gave him her most regal look. "More than you know." Giana glanced back one last time, then slipped through the doorway and disappeared.

  Princesses of the Blood Royal of the House of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya do not conspire with members of their households or indulge in petty schemes or subjects.

  —Maxim 307: Protocol and Court Etiquette of Princesses of the Blood Royal of the House of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya, as decreed by His Serene Highness, Prince Karol IV, 1611.

  “This cannot be" Max's hands shook as he read the article in the newspaper Giana had borrowed from Adam's office. He sat at the table in the housekeeper's room and covered his face with his hands. "This simply cannot be."

  Giana studied his hands—the raised blue veins, the swollen joints, and the dark blotches on his skin—and suddenly realized how much Max had aged since her parents' deaths. He had spent more than thirty years of his adult life in Christian-berg Palace and the strain of living a lie in a country far from home was beginning to show. Although their sojourn at Larch-mont Lodge had been safe and uneventful, life in exile did not agree with him.

  "I was certain that you had seen it and that you had kept silent in order to spare me." She and Max were meeting in Isobel and Albert's room because the housekeeper's room was larger than Max's and because it offered complete privacy from the rest of the staff. Although Isobel laid out a tea table for the staff, no one entered without permission.

  Max was shocked. "I would never keep important information regarding matters of state from you, Your Highness."

  "I apologize, Max, but I thought that you collected the mail."

  "Yes, I did, Your Highness. I placed the mail packet on the McKendrick's desk and gave the bundle of newspapers to Albert to iron."

  Giana nodded her understanding. Foreign languages were not Albert's forte and despite having lived with Isobel for nearly a quarter of a century, his grasp of English was rudimentary. The butler had performed one of his many daily chores, ironing the newsprint without realizing that one of the articles on it could have a profound affect on their futures.

  "What about the other editions?" Max asked. "Do they contain similar articles?"

  "I do not know," Giana replied. "McKendrick arrived before I had the opportunity to read the other editions."

  "We must find out," Max said. "We must discover a way to get our hands on those newspapers."

  "The newspapers are only a part of our worries," Giana reminded him. "You heard what A—McKendrick said. He intends to open the lodge to several very rich, very powerful, very important guests during the week of the Cowes Regatta. We haven't much time." She was more terrified by the possibility of having Victor or someone else she knew, visit the lodge than she was by the prospect of Adam discovering her true identity.

  Giana sighed. Having Adam discover her true identity might be more of a relief than a hardship for her because she disliked lying to him. But the same might not be true for the rest of her staff and until she was certain she could trust him completely, Giana would not risk it.

  "I think the time has come for us to send Gordon to London to seek an audience with the queen," Max said.

  "The queen remains in seclusion at Windsor," Giana said. "And the courtiers around Queen Victoria will never grant a simple gamekeeper an audience," Giana said. "It's time I left our cozy little nest and sought an audience with the queen."

  Max nodded. "You cannot go to Windsor alone. I will accompany you."

  "You cannot go," Giana told him. "I will not allow it."

  "But, Princess..." Max resorted to the less formal use of her title.

  "You have been accused of murdering my parents and of kidnapping me. I will not risk having you arrested."

  "That would not happen, Princess, as long as you are there to explain."

  "What if I am not there to explain? What if something should happen to me to prevent me from explaining? Who would bear witness to the truth then? Who would tell the world of the murders of my parents or denounce Victor as the murderer? Who would prevent him from becoming Prince Regnant?" Giana shook her head. "I cannot fulfill my duty to my country and my people unless I am certain that you are safe and that you will bear witness for my parents if I cannot. And you will not be safe until I am able to speak to the queen."

  Max opened his
mouth to protest, but Giana held up a hand to silence him. "Please, Max. I could not bear to lose you. You're not just my private secretary, you're my Lord Chamberlain and you are the only witness to my father and my mother's murder. You are the only one who saw the assassins—the only one who can identify them as part of Victor's entourage. I trust you, Max, and I need you." She smiled at him. "I need to know that you are here with me."

  "If the McKendrick invites his guests to the lodge before Regatta week begins, it may be too dangerous for us to remain. We may have to leave before the queen arrives in Scotland."

  "Then we will leave," Giana assured him, "and if we leave, we will find a way to contact our ambassador in London."

  "Princess, have you considered that we may not be able to trust our ambassador—that he may be in league with your cousin?"

  "Of course, I've considered it." She frowned at Max. "I've also considered that while Queen Victoria may be perfectly willing to offer me protection and to support my claim to the throne, her government might not."

  Max lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

  "You still see me as a child, Max. And because you still see me as the little girl in pinafores and plaits, you forget that I cut my teeth on politics and government. I learned from the best. From the time I was old enough to sit at my father's knee. I am not a naive little girl. I realize that some of my father's policies were unpopular. I know there were those in our country who were against creating a modern constitution and a Declaration of Rights for the Masses. I know they feared the loss of power. My father spoke to me about it. He explained that there were those in power in Karolya who wanted to harvest our timber and extract our rich iron ore deposits in order to add more gold to their coffers and that there were those in power in other countries who would be only too happy to assist in the harvesting of timber or the mining of iron ore or in the buying and selling of it. And while I don't know who all of the traitors in our country were, I can guess. I am not entirely sure where our ambassador's loyalties lie, but I cannot let that dissuade me from claiming my crown. I am the rightful heir to the crown of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya. My father died preserving my heritage and I don't intend to allow his murderer to steal what is rightfully mine or to exercise control over my subjects any longer than necessary. If that means I must put my faith in the fact that our ambassador is loyal to us and that Queen Victoria's government is as well, then I will do so. I am more than willing to risk my life for my country, but I prefer to do it once I know my godmother has arrived on Scottish soil." Giana felt safe at Larchmont Lodge, but she would be safer at Balmoral under the protection of the British government. Giana had known from the beginning that her stay at Larchmont Lodge would be temporary— simply a place to rest and regroup until she was able to present herself to the world and rescue her people and her country by proving her cousin, Victor, was the murderer and usurper she knew him to be.

  But knowing her stay was temporary wouldn't make it any easier to leave. It wasn't home, but the lodge had served her well. It had become a place of refuge and sanctuary and even though she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, Giana knew in her heart of hearts that the primary reason she was reluctant to leave Larchmont Lodge had nothing to do with safety or security and everything to do with Adam McKendrick.

  "What shall we do, Your Highness?"

  Giana took a deep breath, then slowly expelled it. Max expected answers. He expected her to be the leader of her country, not just a figurehead, but the heart and soul and common sense of her country. "We must find a way to prevent the McKendrick from inviting guests during Cowes." She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "And we must find a way to do it without alarming the McKendrick."

  "Have you something in mind?"

  "I suggest we do what we do best," she told him. "We simply do more of it."

  Max frowned.

  Giana grinned. "Instead of discouraging Albert from attempting to institute a proper dress code and rules of conduct for the workmen renovating the lodge, we encourage him to do so. I will begin by encouraging him to be the butler he would be if we had stayed at Laken." She turned to Max. "Your mission will be to take over as much of McKendrick's correspondence as you possibly can. Move into his office and do the same job for him that you would do for my father or for me if we were in Christianberg."

  Max's smile began at one corner of his mouth and grew. "What of the rest of the staff?"

  "We will simply instruct the members of our household to pretend they are back home and attend to their duties accordingly. We can issue specific instructions as we think of them." In a very unprincesslike gesture, Giana propped her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her hands. "Brenna presents a problem," she said at last, "because her traditional duties require that she take care of me. But I am sure that with a bit of thought, I will be able to discover Brenna's skills and her finest qualities." She snapped her fingers. "Since she cannot perform physical labor that does not include taking care of me, we will concentrate on allowing her to supervise the redecoration of the lodge."

  Max winced. The McKendrick was sure to disapprove for like most lady's maids, Brenna's tastes tended toward flowers and frills—not at all what the McKendrick had in mind for Larchmont Lodge. "The McKendrick is already angry. You heard him threaten to dismiss us all if we didn't run the household according to his wishes."

  Giana turned her most proper princess smile on Max. "That is another risk I am willing to take."

  "When do we tell the others?" Max asked.

  'Tonight at dinner in the housekeeper's room," Giana answered. "After the rest of the staff has gone home or retired."

  "What about Mr. O'Brien?"

  "I'll take care of Mr. O'Brien," she promised.

  Giana was as good as her word. She knocked on Murphy O'Brien's bedchamber door a quarter of an hour before the rest of the upper staff were to meet in the housekeeper's room.

  "Yes?" O'Brien opened the door to find Georgiana standing in the corridor holding a butler's table loaded with a variety of dishes under silver covers.

  "I have brought your dinner, Mr. O'Brien," she announced, thrusting the table at him.

  Afraid his dinner was about to hit the floor, Murphy grabbed the tray in self-defense. "I see that. Thanks."

  "You are welcome." Giana gave him a brief nod and whirled around to leave.

  "Wait a moment!" Murphy set his dinner tray on the floor inside his room.

  Giana paused. "Yes, Mr. O'Brien?"

  The expression on her face and her tone of voice told him that she hadn't expected him to question her. O'Brien felt the corner of his mouth curve upward in the beginning of a smile and he fought to conceal his amusement. "Are you delivering dinner trays to all of the other members of the staff or might I conclude that I'm the only one?"

  "We thought it best if Henri prepared a tray for you, Mr. O'Brien," Giana explained.

  "We, Miss Langstrom?" he asked.

  "The family, Mr. O'Brien," she replied. "The housekeeper's room is reserved for members of our family tonight. We are dining together enfamile."

  "Is there some special occasion of which I should be aware?" O'Brien asked.

  Giana shook her head. "No, Mr. O'Brien."

  "Just a quiet Langstrom family dinner?"

  "That is correct."

  "Fine." Murphy heaved a dramatic sigh in an effort to win her sympathy and gain more information. "I guess I'll have to make do with a tray. I can't change my name. O'Brien isn't Langstrom."

  Giana felt a surge of guilt. O'Brien had the right to feel left out and hurt. He had the right to feel slighted. She understood how it felt to be the odd fellow out, but she didn't know O'Brien well enough to trust him—not with her life or the lives of the other members of the "family." "We regret that we must exclude you, Mr. O'Brien. We did not intend to injure your feelings or cause harm, but we have family matters to discuss and these things must remain private."

  The note of distress in her voice was real and
Murphy decided to let her off the hook. "I understand, Miss Langstrom," he said. "Enjoy your family dinner."

  "And you, Mr. O'Brien."

  "I'm sure the food will be excellent. But I am not a man who enjoys solitary meals," he said. "Now, if you or your lovely sister would care to join me ..." He made the suggestion to see how she reacted.

  "Thank you most kindly for the invitation," she replied. "I am sure that my lovely sister and I will be honored to join you for dinner tomorrow night in the housekeeper's room."

  O'Brien laughed as Georgiana saw through his invitation and called his bluff.

  Giana smiled at him, then turned and made her way down the stairs to the housekeeper's room.

  Murphy was mesmerized by her smile. It was the kind of smile to which men dedicated sonnets. Murphy thought that he might easily fall in love with a smile like that, if she hadn't already caught the eye of his best friend. It didn't matter that Adam had freely relinquished his rights to all the blond, blue-eyed darlings in Scotland. O'Brien smiled. He might not want to be attracted to Valkyries and Amazons, but Adam Mc-Kendrick had grown up in a family of extraordinarily lovely women. He would never be happy with the plain, petite, timid women he chose to squire around. Once Adam realized he was hopelessly attracted to the tall, blond, blue-eyed and beautiful Miss Langstrom, he would want her back. The Bountiful Baron was nothing if not predictable.

  Chapter 18

  The Bountiful Baron defends the rights of women and will always rush to the side of a woman in need. It is not in his character to do otherwise.

  —The Second Installment of the True Adventures of the Bountiful Baron: Western Benefactor to Blond, Beautiful, and Betrayed Women written by John J. Bookman, 1874.

  O’Brian related the incident to Adam an hour or so later when they met in the library for their customary after-dinner whisky and cigars.