Duchess Diaries [2] How to Pursue a Princess

  He waved a hand. “It was nothing.”

  “No, you were very patient.”

  The sparkle in his eyes made her heart ache. “I was, wasn’t I? Don’t worry, Moya. I know how it is when the pride is involved. My brothers all have more than their fair share.”

  “You, however, have only a moderate amount.”

  He sent her an amused smiled. “Do not expect me to admit to more.”

  She really should mount up and leave and yet . . . She tilted her head to one side and regarded him, admiring how the sunlight warmed his skin to gold. “You are close to your brothers. I can hear your affection for them in your voice.”

  “Very, especially Alexi. He is next to me in age, and the most fierce, too.”

  “My youngest sister can be warriorlike, too. Dahlia is shorter than either Rose or me, but Father says she makes up for it in character.”

  “You are close to her?”

  “To both of my sisters, although Rose is gone now. She married a few months ago and is in Italy on her honeymoon.”

  Wulf caught the sad downturn of Lily’s lips. God, but he loved her mouth. Full and soft, it begged for kisses. He cleared his throat. “You miss this Rose.”

  “Every day. She and I managed the household together. Papa is useless when it comes to practical things, as evidenced by this debt that has us in such a quandary.”

  Wulf had to bite back a sharp comment. It wasn’t fair that a father would so burden his own children by not taking care of the most basic of necessities, that of providing a roof over their heads. What sort of a man would risk the safety and comfort of his own children? The thought made Wulf’s blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to take all of Lily’s problems onto his own shoulders, to take care of her, to cherish her . . . but he couldn’t do that without making it difficult for them both to discern whether she came to him out of gratitude or love.

  He didn’t wish to purchase her affections, but wanted with every ounce of his soul to win them. Yet the self-control it took not to sweep in and fix every problem in her life tried him mightily. “Moya, do not look so sad. You will find a way to help your family. I know it.”

  She sent him a grateful look. “I hope so. I don’t know what I’ll do if Huntley doesn’t come up to the mark and I—” She flushed. “I’m sorry. I always tell you things I shouldn’t.”

  “Because you know I won’t think poorly of you. Royal princes marry for many reasons other than love: sometimes they do so to combine powerful houses, sometimes to form an alliance or confirm a treaty, and sometimes to add gold to the coffers of an ailing kingdom.”

  “That must be horrible.”

  “It could be; I have seen my cousins wed for such reasons, some of them not well. Fortunately, my father is a romantic and made certain his sons would be free to choose our own brides.”

  “You are very fortunate. I wish I—” She stopped and then shook her head, absently rubbing her shoulder where the sling had been knotted.

  “Is it too tight?”

  “No. Just a little uncomfortable.” She sighed. “There are times I wish things were different.”

  “What things?”

  “It doesn’t matter. My wishes are just that—wishes. But my responsibilities are everything.”

  “You cannot deny your own feelings. It is impossible, try as you will.” Wulf reached out and captured her hand and tugged her closer. “How do you feel about Huntley?”

  “He is a very nice man,” she said stubbornly.

  Wulf met her gaze steadily and realized that she wasn’t going to give an inch. Damn it, why must you resist me at every turn? It was maddening; he didn’t think he’d ever met a prouder woman in all of his life. “Nice, eh? That is all?”

  “What more should there be?”

  “Ah, Moya, so much more.” Wulf pressed a kiss to her fingers, satisfied when her lips parted from her quickened breath. “Huntley seems very predictable. The sort of man who would eat the same thing for breakfast every morning.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “You tell me. Is that what you want? A man of no excitement, a man so predictable that he doesn’t even need to be in the room for you to know what he is doing and why?”

  For a long moment, their gazes locked. Her heart sinking, Lily tugged her hand free. “There are worse things than being predictable. If Huntley and I wed, I will cherish him as a good wife should. There’s nothing more to be said.” She turned away, found her hat, and settled it firmly on her head. “We must head back or the duchess will be worried.”

  His dark green gaze swept over her. “If I had my way, I’d toss you over your horse and take you to my cottage.”

  “Where you’d ravish me and ruin my chances of capturing a wealthy husband? No thank you,” she said pertly, though her skin prickled with goose bumps.

  He tugged her to him and kissed her, a hard, purposeful kiss that stopped her thoughts. Her body was instantly afire as his large, warm hand cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple. She arched against him, no longer in control, trembling with new wants and needs as she was swept into his embrace, his kiss, into him.

  “Your kisses are wine,” he said in his chocolate-rich voice. “Wine and madness, and I crave them more with each one. You are like food to my soul, and I cannot get enough of your sweetness, your touch.”

  God help her, she knew exactly what he meant. He was the same to her, as necessary as air, and just as—

  “Lily!” A feminine voice came from across the field. “Where are you?”

  Lily whirled out of Wulf’s embrace. “It’s Emma!”

  Fifteen

  From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe Once again, Miss Balfour has gone missing. I’m beginning to think it’s a bad habit.

  Wulf gave a low curse, his disappointment so sharp that it was an almost-physical ache.

  Emma cantered across the field. Once she reached them, she pulled up her horse and quickly dismounted, genuine concern on her face. “Lily, what happened to your arm?”

  “My hat blew off and I used that small wall to dismount. Unfortunately there’s moss and it’s quite slick, and when I fell, I hit my shoulder.”

  Guilt flooded Lily for her uncharitable thoughts about Emma. What if she really cares for Wulf? What then? I’m being so selfish for not wishing him to find a good match while I’m so ruthlessly pursuing one of my own. I know this and yet I can’t help but feel that Emma isn’t the right woman for Wulf.

  It all was so confusing. Lily fought back a desire to sit down in the middle of the field and refuse to ever get up. “Once the duchess learns I’ve gotten another injury from riding, she’ll never let me near the stable again.”

  “You’ll know her grace’s thoughts soon enough, for once she discovered that you’d disappeared from the party, she was determined to find you herself. She is out riding with some of the others—oh, there they are now.”

  The duchess cantered into view, Huntley and two footmen trailing behind her.

  Emma pursed her lips. “Lily, perhaps it would be better if we say that I arrived before the prince did. Just for propriety’s sake.”

  Wulf nodded. “It is well with me. I do not wish to make Moya’s life difficult.”

  Emma’s brow lowered. “Moya?”

  “It’s what he calls me,” Lily said, the ache in her arm and her disgruntled feelings dampening her temper further. “It means ‘red,’ and I dislike it excessively.”

  Wulf sent her an amused look. “I never said ‘Moya’ meant ‘red.’ ”

  “Oh. What does it mean, then?”

  His smile was mysterious. “I will gather your horse.” He went to fetch the grazing animal.

  The duchess drew up her horse, her gaze instantly locked on Lily’s makeshift sling. “Miss Balfour, have you been unseated yet again?”

  Huntley and the two footmen joined the duchess. The earl’s face was creased with concern.

  “She’s holding her arm!” Huntley dismou
nted, handing his reins to a footman. “My dear Miss Balfour, you’re injured. What happened?”

  “It’s a silly thing, but the wind snatched my hat, so I dismounted to fetch it and slipped on a mossy rock. I’m fine, though. Only bruised.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t suffer a worse injury,” the duchess said. “Miss Gordon, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Emma curtsied. “I couldn’t stay in the castle while everyone was looking for Miss Balfour; I had to help find her.”

  “You are too good,” Huntley said sincerely.

  Emma gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It was the least I could do.”

  The duchess’s eagle gaze locked on Wulf. “And how did you come to be here, Your Highness?”

  “Miss Emma’s calls brought me. I was walking along the river, trying to decide when would be the best time to visit you, your grace, when I heard her shout out for assistance.”

  The duchess’s finely arched brows rose. “Why would you wish to visit me?”

  “To apologize for my grandmother’s behavior last night. It was rude beyond belief.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” the duchess said sharply. “Your grandmother, on the other hand, does.”

  Emma hurried to inject, “Miss Balfour and I were glad that the prince was close enough to help.”

  Lily murmured her agreement.

  The duchess didn’t look as if she believed a word, but Huntley managed a stiff bow. “Wulfinski, thank you for being so quick to answer Emma’s call for assistance.”

  The prince bowed and Huntley turned to Emma. “How did you know Miss Balfour would be here?”

  Emma hesitated.

  “The flowers,” Lily said. “I came to see the flowers in the field. Emma said that she’d noticed them earlier when we rode through, so she was certain this was where I’d left the path.”

  “Yes.” Emma nodded. “I guessed that once she’d wandered off the trail, that she couldn’t find her way back.”

  The duchess tsked. “Miss Balfour, we should return to the castle so that my physician can take a look at your injury.”

  “It’s just a bruise.”

  “Perhaps.” The duchess turned to one of her footmen. “Ride ahead and have the doctor attend us there as soon as he can.”

  The footman dipped his head and then wheeled his horse and hied across the field. Meanwhile, Wulf stepped past Huntley and helped Lily onto her horse, lifting her easily into the saddle. Her gaze clung to his for a long moment.

  “Miss Balfour.” The duchess pulled her horse beside Lily’s, though not before she shot a dampening look at the prince. “We will take the forest path since it’s smoother. We will ride slowly, for jostling might harm your shoulder more.”

  “Yes, your grace.”

  Wulf remained beside Lily’s horse as she arranged her skirts. “I’ll walk beside Miss Balfour in case she gets tizzy.”

  “It’s not ‘tizzy,’ but ‘dizzy.’ ” Huntley chuckled, climbing onto his mount and bringing it beside Lily’s. “You need not bother, Wulfinski. I will ride beside her.”

  Wulf caught the plea in Lily’s gaze. Swallowing the bitter lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, he nodded. “Fine.” He stepped back from her horse. “I’ll visit tomorrow and see how you fare.”

  With a final glance at Wulf, she turned her horse and went with Huntley. The duchess let the two of them ride out of hearing range before she turned to Wulf. “In more ways than one, it’s fortuitous that you were here. I wished to have a private word with you. I must inform you that, after that little scene last night, your grandmother is no longer welcome at Floors Castle.”

  “I don’t blame your grace. I will tell her when I return home.”

  “There is no need. I wrote her a letter this afternoon, although I daresay you left before she received it.” The duchess arched a brow. “Sadly, this will make our little house party untenable for you, too. I’m sure you won’t wish to attend now that your grandmother no longer can.”

  “I’m not—”

  “No, no. I perfectly understand. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything less.”

  Wulf’s jaw tightened. “I see.”

  “I’m sure you do.” The duchess turned to Emma. “Miss Gordon, shall we?”

  “No, thank you.” Emma’s eyes sparkled with outrage. “I wish to have a word with the prince before I return.”

  “Alone?”

  “Surely one of the footmen can stay for a few moments? I will catch up with the party soon.”

  The duchess didn’t look pleased, but she nodded. “Fine. Keep a footman with you, well within sight. I’ll not have it said that my house parties are devoid of the proprieties.”

  “Yes, your grace.”

  The duchess inclined her head to Wulf. “Your Highness.” She turned her horse and cantered across the field to catch up with the others.

  The footman touched his hat and then walked his horse several steps away, just out of earshot.

  Emma wheeled to face Wulf, her face flushed. “Why didn’t you argue with the duchess? She is being unfair!”

  “She has a plan for Lily and I am an obstacle. I can’t fault her for wishing to be rid of me.” He gave a wry smile. “I can’t blame her grace for being angry with Tata, either. Her behavior was beyond the acceptable. Tata and the duchess are both strong-willed women, so they are bound to clash. What is ironic is that they have the same objective: to keep me from Lily.”

  Emma sent him a curious glance. “You don’t seem very despondent at being banned.”

  “I’ve no intention of allowing either to tell me what I can or cannot do.”

  “You’ve either discovered the secret to happiness, or you’re simply mad.”

  “I am mad—madly in love. And that, Emma, is happiness. I cannot leave Lily be.”

  “So I noticed,” Emma said drily. When he lifted his brows, she said, “I saw you kissing her.”

  To his surprise, his face heated. Good God, I am no youth, to be embarrassed by a kiss. “I did not see you arriving.”

  “Do tell,” she said. “If I had not come when I did, the duchess might have found you. This is for the best. I think we’ve allayed everyone’s suspicions but her grace’s. Huntley, at least, is reassured of Lily’s innocence. As for the kiss”—Emma twinkled at him—“it gives me hope that perhaps her heart will not become entwined with Huntley’s, no matter how hard he tries.”

  Wulf smiled. “She does not love him, if that is what you fear.”

  “She said as much?”

  “And more.”

  Emma sighed in relief. “That’s something, at least.”

  “For now. Come. I will help you mount. It’s time for you to return home, my friend.” He went to her side, placed his hands about her waist and lightly tossed her into the saddle. As she settled in, his smile broadened. “In all of the excitement, I forgot to tell you that Lily asked to meet me here to warn me about a dangerous woman.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, you.”

  Emma chuckled. “Odd. Huntley spent all morning warning me about you.”

  “Then our plan is working. How are things with Huntley?”

  “Oh, as well as can be expected.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You did tell him you find him attractive, did you not?”

  “Not precisely.” Her color could not be higher. “When it came to telling him how I feel . . . Oh, Wulf, I couldn’t do it.”

  “Emma, you must. You wish him to see you differently, and so you must be different.”

  “I tried! I truly did, but I couldn’t find the words, and he looked so impatient.”

  Wulf grasped her hand. “Try again. If Lily and Huntley become engaged, we’ll wish with all of our hearts that we were bolder, not more timid.”

  Emma’s shoulders sank. “You are right; I will try again. Meanwhile, I wish you luck in convincing the duchess to put you back on her guest list.”

  “Thank yo
u.” He released her hand and stepped back from her horse. “I hope to see you at the castle soon. Meanwhile, with Lily injured and thus laid up for a day or two, Huntley may be free of her presence, at least for a bit. You won’t wish to miss such an opportunity.”

  Emma brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that. I will do what I can. Good luck, Wulf.” With a smile, she cantered from the field, the footman falling in behind her.

  Sixteen

  From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe Though I’ve tried to put it from my mind, I cannot stop thinking about how that woman dared suggest that I was attempting to fix her grandson’s interest on Miss Balfour. What a ludicrous thought! As those who know me will attest, I do not get involved in the lives of those around me. Let them find their own happiness, I say. I merely provide the opportunity through my hospitality.

  That said, my opinion of the prince has grown since he assisted Lily when she was injured, although not enough for me to wish him to have free access to my home. I have to wonder just why he was in that field to begin with. His story, while chivalrous, didn’t ring quite true.

  Something is afoot. But what?

  The next day, Lily sat on the settee by the fireplace in her bedchamber. It had been a long day and a half, though she couldn’t remember much of yesterday afternoon since the physician had insisted on giving her a draught of some sort. The bitter liquid had done nothing for her shoulder, but it had put her to sleep. And sleep she had—for the rest of that day and most of this one. When she’d awoken well after noon, she’d found herself sore and starving and cross as a bear.

  Her mood only became worse when, among the notes and cards brought on her lunch tray, she didn’t find one from Wulf. It was silly to expect anything, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since she’d awakened. It was the fault of the laudanum, of course, for it had left her feeling hollow and filled with lingering bits of dreams, most of them ending with her in Wulf’s heated embrace.

  She moved restlessly and wished for the hundredth time that it had been Huntley who’d kissed her and not the prince. Then she’d have dreamed of Huntley . . . wouldn’t she?