Pretending she didn’t know exactly where Victoria stood, Queen Victoria looked over the heads of the crowd and asked, “Is Miss Victoria Cardiff here?”
Victoria took a breath, the first in several minutes.
“I am, ma’am.” She knew the correct protocols: how to walk forward, how to curtsy. She ought to; she’d been drilling Maude and Effie for weeks.
Queen Victoria, she saw, wore a quirk of a smile, and her eyes crinkled with laughter. She was enjoying the excitement her matchmaking had created. “Miss Cardiff, I believe you know His Majesty, King Saber.”
Victoria turned to him.
He bowed.
She curtsied with the same depth she had showed to Queen Victoria. She owed the respect to his crown, if not his person …and in truth, she respected him, too.
He was an altogether admirable man in every way. And no doubt an admirable king. And most certainly an accomplished blackguard.
Raul waited until she had risen. He smiled at her.
The thunder of her heart grew deafening.
He took her hand, and heat spread outward to her every extremity.
He knelt before her.
The debutantes’ sighs of pleasure gusted through the room.
His fingers caressed her palm.
“Oh, don’t,” she whispered. If only she had decided to return to Moricadia sooner, she would have been spared this melodrama!
“I don’t have any family heirlooms to offer you.” He spoke to her. Not to the crowd, but to her, and his voice, warm, deep, seductive, wrapped around her, drawing her eyes to meet his where she could wallow in the pleasure of knowing he was here, truly here, on his knees before her and England. “No rubies for your throat, no diamonds for your ears, no sapphires to match your eyes.
And you know better than anyone that the Moricadian treasury should not be spent on jewels, however well deserved they be.”
“I know.” Her gaze clung to his.
Reaching into his watch pocket, he drew out a ring, a simple wide gold band.
The debutantes whimpered in disappointment.
“But your throat and your ears are more beautiful than any rubies or diamonds, and no sapphire could ever match the sparkle and the color of your eyes.”
Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw the debutantes’ disappointment fade. Unfurling their fans, they used them vigorously.
“So I offer this ring, plain and humble though it is.”
Putting it in her palm, he wrapped her fingers around it. “I bought it with ill-gotten gains. But they are my ill-gotten gains.”
“Gambling?” she asked.
“And horse racing.” He grinned at her. “You know me too well.”
“So I do.”
“If with the knowing, you still love me, and you would agree to wear this ring and be my wife, I can’t promise jewels will ever grace your hand, but I can give you mountains and valleys, cities and wild places. I can give you Moricadia.”
Disillusionment clogged Victoria’s throat. She loved Moricadia … but that wasn’t what she wanted. She tried to tug her hand away.
Yet he was still holding her and speaking in that beloved, vibrant, persuasive voice. “I can promise I will protect you with all the strength of a scarred warrior; I will cherish you with all the abilities of a mere man; I will worship you with my body.” He leaned forward, his green eyes solemn and passionate and true. “And I will love you, love you, Victoria Cardiff, for all the years of my life and beyond.”
“You love me?” Tears sprang to Victoria’s eyes.
Did she dare believe him?
“I didn’t recognize the emotion, but I think I loved you from the first moment I set eyes on you. I know I loved you when I saw you teaching the children English.
And I was lost in worship when you refused to escape to safety while I fought Jean-Pierre. You’re everything that is brave and strong and resolute, a woman worthy to be the queen of Moricadia, and the possessor of my heart.” He was absolutely and completely serious, and he looked as if he were prepared to remain on his knees before her for as long as it took to get the answer he wanted.
That wasn’t true, of course. She knew him better than that. If she didn’t say yes, be damned to propriety— he would pick her up and carry her away and make love to her until out of sheer exhaustion she agreed to wed him.
And as tempting as that sounded, she thought the king and future queen of Moricadia should not make such a scandal in the English court.
She looked around at the crowd.
They observed with breathless anticipation.
She looked up at the dais.
The queen viewed them with plump satisfaction.
She looked toward the debutantes.
They clasped their hands together, silently pleading with her in his cause.
She looked down at Raul.
He watched her with the kind of hungry longing that was love and lust and the promise of joy all wrapped into one.
So she gave him what he wanted. She cupped his face with her hand, leaned down to him, and vowed, “Yes. I will marry you, Raul Lawrence, King Saber of Moricadia, and we will love each other for the rest of our lives and even beyond.”
She had thought he would maintain decorum.
She should have known better.
He came to his feet, wrapped her in his arms, and, with a whoop of joy, he picked her up and whirled her around, laughing into her face.
She held on to his shoulders and laughed back at him, knowing that this instant was the true beginning of their happiness.
The court burst into applause, and after a moment of wide-eyed shock, Queen Victoria smiled stiffly and clapped also.
Danel and Prospero backed away, careful not to hinder their king and queen’s passionate embrace.
Out of the corner of his mouth, Danel said, “I wouldn’t want to be Saber when he has to explain that the ownership ceremony in the forest is the Moricadian marriage service.”
Prospero nodded. “Before he tells her, he’d better keep the rope handy to tie her up. That woman’s got a temper.”
“She does. The first time I saw her lose it, she shot at me. The second time, she almost chopped my hand off, and Saber’s, too.”
The two men recalled the incidents uneasily.
“Do you suppose she’s going to be angry at us?” Danel asked.
“How long do you think she can hold a grudge?” Prospero murmured.
“Surely no longer than the birth of their first child.”
“Or their second.”
Danel thought for a long moment. “Perhaps we can convince our king to hide Attila’s sword.”
Prospero threw his arm over Danel’s shoulder.“Good idea, my friend. Good idea.”
Novels by Christina Dodd
Danger in a Red Dress
Thigh High
Tongue in Chic
Trouble in High Heels
In Bed with the Duke
Novels in the Darkness Chosen Series
Scent of Darkness
Touch of Darkness
Into the Shadow
Into the Flame
Novels in the Chosen Ones Series
Storm of Visions
Storm of Shadows
Chains of Ice
Chains of Fire
Document Outline
Cover Page
Praise
Other Books by Christina Dodd
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication Page
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
/>
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Table of Contents
Start
Christina Dodd, Taken by the Prince
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