“Is she still dangling that ring before you?”
“Every chance she gets. She thinks to control me with it.” The prince blew out his breath in an aggravated puff. “She is wrong.”
“I wouldn’t tell her that. I’ve never met a more decisive woman. Frankly, she scares me a bit.”
“She can be overbearing.” There was a moment of silence, and then Alexsey chuckled. “You know, there may be a way to silence her.”
“You cannot kill your grandmother.”
Alexsey laughed. “No, no. But I can perhaps stop her constant nagging, and prove that while I seek the kaltso, I will not sacrifice my principles.”
“And how will you perform that miracle?”
“I will woo Miss Murdoch openly, court her for the world—and my grandmother—to see.”
Bronwyn started, and her head banged against Cupid’s quiver. She winced and gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.
Strathmoor sounded puzzled. “You wish to court Miss Murdoch in earnest?”
“It will look in earnest to everyone, including my grandmother. Which will make her worry that perhaps I am in love. She will then stop her infernal matchmaking and will instead attempt to convince me that perhaps she was hasty and I shouldn’t court anyone at all. I already know she finds Miss Murdoch unqualified to be a princess.”
Bronwyn found that, with the right encouragement, her hands could curl into claws.
“What’s wrong with Miss Murdoch?”
“According to my grandmother, Miss Murdoch is too old for babies, too outspoken for a lady of quality, and has a decided lack of polish.”
Oh! Bronwyn rubbed her pained head harder, scowling fiercely.
“I didn’t know they’d met,” Strathmoor said.
“They haven’t. Tata Natasha has heard nothing but rumors from a vicar’s wife. Sadly, Tata is quick to judge and slow to open her heart. She will never warm to Miss Murdoch now. Fortunately for me, all of the things Tata dislikes about Miss Murdoch, I find charming.”
“Hmm. An interesting plan. But what about Miss Murdoch? She might believe your behavior, and think you are serious in courting her.”
Bronwyn listened intently.
“I will never let it progress that far. Miss Murdoch doesn’t desire marriage for herself. She told me so.”
It stung like a betrayal to hear her opinions used in such a way, and casually thrown before Lord Strathmoor, whom she barely knew.
The prince’s deep voice traveled through the foyer easily. “I will seduce Miss Murdoch in private but court her in public. I will kill the boredom of this visit, and keep my grandmother at bay, as well.”
“And then?”
“And then, as we both desire, we will go our separate ways. It will be a charming several weeks, and we will both be the happier for it.”
“I don’t know, Alexsey.” Strathmoor’s voice held a note of concern. “It seems like a tenuous plan. Much could go wrong with it.”
“Not as much as you might think.”
“But Miss Murdoch—”
“Is the one thing I’m certain of. She will come to no harm, I promise. She is refreshingly honest and has already displayed a great aptitude for passion. I will tease her until she desires me beyond thought, and then I will satisfy that desire. I will be happy, my boredom dispelled. She will be happy and will have many good memories. And my grandmother will be silenced. It is perfection, nyet?”
“I suppose. So long as no one is injured, why not?”
“Exactly. Now come—let’s get this tea over with so we may go for a ride. I’ve no wish to spend such a gloriously beautiful day indoors.” He whistled. “Papillon!”
The dog bounded away to his master.
The prince’s and viscount’s booted feet echoed as they left the foyer.
“You’ll have me, will you?” she muttered. “And then leave, eh? Ha! Just try to seduce me now!” She stepped out from behind the statue, her mind working furiously. How dare he so casually plan to amuse himself at her expense!
What an insufferable plan! What an insufferable man! She could imagine the reactions of her stepmother and sisters when she told them what she’d overheard. Mama would be upset to know he wasn’t interested in Sorcha (or anyone, for that matter). Sorcha and Mairi would be as furious with the prince as she was, and would refuse to attend any events where he might be present. Which would be wonderfully loyal and . . .
Disastrous.
Bronwyn’s London Season had been miserable because she’d known no one and didn’t understand the rules of society. She couldn’t allow the same fate to befall Sorcha. Even though her sister was naturally more sociable, every moment Sorcha spent at this castle, meeting the men and women who made up the guest lists of the season, growing accustomed to the complex rules of society, brought her closer to a happy future.
Which means I can’t tell anyone about the prince’s arrogant plan.
So how would she handle this problem? What would shake the prince’s façade?
Perhaps . . . perhaps I shouldn’t reject his courting. If I seem to capitulate, perhaps I can turn the tables on him; maybe I can make him want me. And then, when he is mad for me, I will laugh in his face and send him on his way, a humiliated but hopefully better man.
Yes. Why not? Imagining his expression, she bubbled with laughter. The day wasn’t lost after all. Perhaps she—
The sound of a prancing dog echoed through the huge foyer.
“Blast it!” Bronwyn slipped behind the statue again, hoping against hope that Papillon would continue on her way. But the paw steps came closer . . . and closer. The second Papillon reached the statue she stopped, wagged her tail, and barked.
And then a deep, rich, deliciously accented voice said, “Roza? What are you doing?”
Sir Mordred rubbed his hands together, his evil breath as foul as his soul. “I will never rest until she is mine!” Hearing him, Roland laughed. “Even evil cannot withstand the steel of a good heart.”
—The Black Duke by Miss Mary Edgeworth
Bronwyn didn’t know what to say as Alexsey, his arms crossed over his broad chest, regarded her with a questioning grin.
He was dressed in riding clothes, his boots sporting tassels, a neckcloth carelessly knotted about his strong neck. With his hair falling into his eyes, his firm mouth curved in a knowing smile, he looked mischievous and devastatingly handsome.
Her mind flying, she quickly slipped out from behind the statue. “I was admiring this statue.” Nothing unusual at all. People admired statues all of the time, didn’t they?
“Indeed?”
“It’s extraordinary. I left the sitting room just now, where I’d been fetching my sister’s reticule, and this astonishingly well-rendered Cupid caught my eye.” She patted the statue while meeting Alexsey’s gaze. “I find it enormously appealing.”
Alexsey nodded to where her hand touched the statue. “You seem to have quite a grip on this particular subject matter.”
She followed his gaze. “Oh!” Cheeks burning, she jerked her hand away from Cupid’s private area, which was framed by fig leaves. “That was—I never meant to touch—” She closed her mouth, unable to say another word.
He chuckled. “Were you admiring the whole statue, or just . . .”
“All of it,” she said firmly. “It’s very lifelike.”
“Roza, I promise you, that is not lifelike.”
She regarded the statue again, this time with a critical eye. “It is for a Cupid. Or so I’d imagine.” That didn’t sound right. “I mean, so I would imagine if I had ever thought about it. Which I haven’t. Until now, of course.”
He laughed softly, the sound warming her like a fireplace on a chilly night. “Oh, Roza, Roza. I never need to wonder what you think.” He captured her hand, tugging her closer.
She tried to resist, but her body tingled with instant awareness of him, her skin burning where he touched her. She instantly yearned for more . . . but this was exac
tly his plan. To seduce her into unwise decisions as a double convenience to himself—a way to satisfy those same desires in him, and to manipulate his grandmother.
Oh, how fun it was going to be to turn the tables on him. He wanted to seduce her, with no thought of her feelings or future? Well, she wanted to make him fall wildly, passionately, crazily in lust with her before she boldly dashed his hopes into dust.
She couldn’t keep a pleased smile from her lips. Meeting in the woods, talking and kissing, then finding one another at a ball and dancing—those moments had been right out of one of her novels. And she had plenty of just such books that could show her how to achieve her plan—he wouldn’t even know he was being led down the primrose path until he was deeply tangled in thorns.
Feeling giddy at her temerity, she gazed up at him, lowered her lashes, and said in a breathless voice, “Your Highness, we shouldn’t be alone.” Not yet, anyway.
After a surprised second, his eyes warmed and he moved closer. “Such is the burden we bear for society’s sake.” He captured her hand and kissed her fingers. “At some point, we must find our way back to your reading tree.”
She ignored the tremors the brush of his lips sent through her and concentrated on his words. Getting him to flirt with me is ridiculously easy, but I should go slowly or he’ll suspect something. She freed her hand. “That would be too risky, I fear.”
“We are safer here, you think?” At her nod, he shrugged. “We are in plain view of the world. Besides, we have Papillon. She can be our chaperone.”
“I’m not sure that will still wagging tongues.”
“Perhaps. I—” He hesitated, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Roza, I hope you do not mind my asking, but how long have you been in the hallway?”
She tried to keep her face expressionless. “A minute or two. Why?”
“So you didn’t hear Lord Strathmoor and me come down the stairs earlier?”
She blinked. “Lord Strathmoor?” She glanced down the hall as if expecting to see the viscount. “Is he here, too?”
Alexsey regarded her with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t certain if he believed her. On the one hand, it was suspicious as hell to find her standing behind the statue, but on the other, she returned his gaze so forthrightly that he couldn’t help but feel she was telling the truth.
He hoped to the heavens she hadn’t heard him talking to Strath. Not that his little plan was anything other than an excuse to be close to her, and what woman wouldn’t see that for the compliment it was? Besides, she didn’t appear angry or upset. Not even a little. So if she had heard, she didn’t seem to hold it against him.
From what little he knew of her, he was certain she’d show her feelings. “Your family is with my grandmother, taking tea on the terrace.”
“Yes, I was on my way there when Sorcha realized she’d left her reticule in the sitting room. And after I found it”—she smiled into his eyes—“I met you.”
She didn’t move closer. In fact, she didn’t move at all. Yet Alexsey was aware of the warmth of her gaze, framed by her spectacles, and of the air of intimacy in her smile. They added a touch of come-hither that hadn’t been there before.
Well. Perhaps it wouldn’t take as much effort to seduce her as he’d thought. She wishes for this as much as I. The thought thrilled him. And the beauty of it was that, in courting her, he would have all the time in the world to answer her, to kiss her in new ways, to teach her— Stop. Now is not the time to think of that. He was becoming so impassioned, he wouldn’t be able to think.
She smiled now, the sunlight from the side windows rippling over her hair and touching the brown with auburn. “I must join my mother and sisters; they will be wondering what has become of me.”
“I shall escort you. I am having tea, as well.”
“How fortunate for us both.” She smiled and slipped her hand inside his elbow. “I thought you might have better things to do with your afternoon than take tea upon the terrace.”
He covered her hand with his and smiled into her eyes. “No, little one. You are my only duty today.”
Her lips, so ripe and full, returned his smile. “Then let us go.”
He took a step forward, but then stopped. “Before we are back with the others and cannot speak, there is one thing I wish to know. . . .”
“Yes?”
“It is silly of me, but at the ball, you mentioned marriage.”
Her smile faded, but only for a second. “Yes?”
“You said you did not desire it for yourself. May I ask why? We didn’t have time to truly discuss that, and it has fascinated me.”
“I am quite satisfied with my life as it is. Happy, even. I am an important part of my father’s business; he could not run it without me. Helping him allows me plenty of time for my books, and for my sisters.” She shrugged. “What more could I wish for?”
That made sense. He nodded slowly as they began walking through the foyer, the dappled light flickering over them. “You seem to have a very rewarding life. I never met a woman who so boldly proclaimed she did not wish to marry. Most seem to wish for it very much. Perhaps too much.”
“I’m not a mere girl right out of the schoolroom. I like my freedom as an unmarried lady. In fact, there’s only one thing that would change my mind about marriage.”
“Yes?”
“If I were to fall deeply in love.”
He almost missed a step. “So there is a caveat.”
“Yes, but I doubt it would ever happen. I’ve never been in love, and I doubt I ever shall be. I’m simply not the romantic sort.”
“But the book you were reading in the woods—”
“—is fiction. I enjoy reading about pure hearts and fairy-tale love, but those don’t often exist in real life. For that reason and others, it is highly unlikely I’ll ever find love, and I’m perfectly content with that.”
Alexsey nodded and took the first opportunity to change the subject. The conversation had reassured him, but it had also let him know that Strath had been right—as he and Bronwyn progressed with their flirtation, Alexsey would have to watch her carefully. If she seemed to be getting too attached to him, he’d end it. He had no desire to hurt her.
Meanwhile, he looked forward to the next few weeks, when he would court this woman in public and seduce her in private. She would enjoy both, he decided, though he rather thought she would find the seduction far more to her liking.
His gaze flickered over her as they walked, and he rejoiced in the lush curves of her body and the intelligent twinkle in her eyes. His body ached for hers, and he longed to sweep her into one of the many sitting rooms and show her the pleasure life had to offer those brave enough to enjoy them.
Soon, he promised himself. Very soon. When she is ready and welcomes me. From the way she was smiling at him now, that time wouldn’t be long in arriving.
And with a returning smile, he opened the door to the terrace and led her out into the sunshine.
Roland sat beside his little sister. “You are too young to know this, but love cannot grow in rocky soil. It must be planted in a tender heart, cared for with the gentlest of touches, warmed with happiness, and protected from all that might wish to harm it.”
“That sounds like a lot of work,” Melisandre said.
“It is a lot of work. But if it’s true love, then it will be the lightest burden you’ll ever carry.”
—The Black Duke by Miss Mary Edgeworth
The next day, Alexsey walked down the grand stairs, his hat in one hand, his riding gloves in the other. A swift glance at the clock standing by the dining room doors told him he was late, and he hurried his steps.
Reaching the foyer, he told the butler, “I’m looking for Lord Strathmoor. Have you seen him?”
Davies replied, “He went toward the stables not ten minutes ago, on an errand for Sir Henry.”
“I shall catch him there, if I can. We were to ride out together, but it seems he’s forgotten.”
&nbs
p; “Shall I send a footman to see if he’s left?”
“No. I’ll go myself. It’ll be quicker.”
“Very good. Before you go, Your Highness, I should mention that—”
A hand closed over Alexsey’s arm. Heavily wrinkled, the fingers were stained as if the owner stirred her tea with her bare fingers.
Davies offered an apologetic smile. “Her Grace has been looking for you since breakfast.”
“And now she has found me.” Alexsey covered the hand with his own and turned to his grandmother. “How are you this morning, Tata?”
“My back aches, my ankles are swollen, and I’ve a need for a good purge.” She put a hand on her stomach and grimaced. “That turtle soup last night was too rich.”
Alexsey exchanged an amused look with the butler. “Thank you, Davies. I believe I have it from here.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Tata, though you may feel unwell, you look radiant.”
“Pah!” she said. “Do not try to cozen me. I caught you trying to sneak away; do not deny it.” She pointed to his riding boots.
He laughed. “Sneak? Through the front door in broad daylight? If I truly wished to slip away, you would not catch me.”
“Ha!” She turned away, gesturing for him to follow her. “Come. Sir Henry has given over his Green Salon for my use while I am here. We will speak there.”
This would be a good time to begin hinting to his grandmother that he was willing to change his ways and look for a wife. Then, of course, he’d admit to his intended target. He’d have to tread carefully and not give in too suddenly, though, or she’d know something was up. Tata Natasha was well versed in treachery. She would recognize it in another without even trying.
As they approached the salon, a footman hurried to hold open the door.
She paused beside the young man. “Papillon?”
“She has had a bath, as you requested, and is now being dried by one of the maids, Your Grace.”