by Gill, Tamara
Rowan fought not to react to the faithful guard's words. Did he mean his knowledge of those who wished to do the princess harm or something else? His stomach lurched. Surely he did not know of his involvement with the princess. They had been so careful not to be caught.
"I do not know what you mean," he said, keeping his voice level.
"I saw you," Marco said, meeting his eye but a moment. "Leaving the princess’s chamber. I know what you were doing in there, and I should warn you against it. She will not marry you, or more to the point, men like us. It is not allowed."
His attention snapped back to Alessa, her purple tulle gown accentuating her petite figure, the flare of her hips and legs he knew went on for days. He hated the truth of Marco's words. Why could she not be for him? He knew she was not. Hell, he'd stated the same to her only hours before, but that did not make it any easier to bear.
He wanted her. All of her. The thought of her married to someone else made him want to strangle the life out of every gentleman here.
"There is nothing between us. You are mistaken," he lied, ignoring Marco's mocking laugh at his side.
"I am many things, Rowan, but a fool is not one of them. I know everything that happens to Princess Alessa. It is my job as her main aid to know and keep her safe." Marco sighed. "I do not interfere in her life. She is a princess, and it is not my place to state what I think is right and wrong when it comes to her heart, but take care. Do not think there will be no punishment if she is ruined or your affair is discovered. She will suffer, yes, but you will suffer more."
Rowen heard the warning in Marco's words. Should he continue, he would be punished if any harm, socially or physically, came to the princess. He ought to stay away from her. Let her swains and bucks that flocked to her skirts carry her away into the sunset as she desired. She was in London, after all, to find a husband, all young women of similar age and rank were, but he could not. Even now, watching as the gentleman paid court to her, complimented and preened before the princess set his teeth on edge.
He unfisted his hands at his sides, taking a calming breath.
What Marco said was true. He needed to remove those who wished her harm and then leave England and never look back. That was what would be best for them all, as hard as that truth would be to follow through with.
"As I said, nothing occurred, Marco. You are mistaken, but I'll be sure next time that we're not seen alone with one another. Like you, I do not want to see the princess harmed in any way."
Marco moved past him like clockwork about to do another sweep of the room. "Just so we understand each other, that is all I wanted to clear up between us."
Rowan understood all too well. He would keep Alessa safe and then watch her leave or marry an Englishman. The notion brought no solace.
He caught Alessa watching them before she bid her many admirers goodbye and started over to him. He could not remove his attention from her person as she gracefully swept through the throng of guests. Her long, golden locks coiled high atop her head, a small diamond tiara set within the curls, making her appear the very princess she was born.
In his imagining, the gown fell away, exposing her perfect form for him to feast on. How was he to keep away from her? Especially when he did not want to.
"You look all pensive and worried, Mr. Oakley. I thought your mood might be brighter after our morning together," she said, her voice light and teasing.
If he had not just promised Marco to keep away from her, he would have had her on her back someplace within these walls, giving and taking pleasure from her wicked self. His selfish wants and needs could harm her, and he did not want that for her.
"Marco suspects that we've been intimate. He's warned me away from you."
She gasped, staring up at him before her gaze swept the room, no doubt looking for her loyal guard. "But we've been so careful. Are you certain that he saw?"
"He mentioned seeing me leave your room this morning. And I believe his words were that although he does not know what occurred in your room, that the door was locked and closed, well, I believe he understands what we were about."
Alessa paled, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms, pull her against his chest and hold her until she was no longer troubled. "What if he should write to my sister? I shall be sent home immediately. I do not want to leave you."
Her words eased his aching soul. How he wished they could remain in their little cocoon of just the two of them. Enjoying each other's company and body whenever they liked.
But like all dreams, they dissipated upon waking up and facing reality—his more stark than hers.
"You must submit to enjoying the Season and those who wish to pay court to you. Forget about me and what we have done. It is of no consequence. You need to treat me like the guard I am and nothing more."
The scent of her perfume, fresh and fruity, teased his senses, and he steeled himself to be strong. To not allow her to throw her life and reputation away on a man who was not worth it. And he was not.
He'd killed others in his life. Had stolen and lied. Hell, he'd been hired to kill her. She deserved so much more than he could ever offer her. He'd been a fool to start anything at all with the princess, no matter how alluring she was.
"You do not mean what you say. Do not be frightened off by Marco. If he does not write to my sister, which I do not believe he shall when I think upon it, we shall be fine. He is loyal to me. Protects me. He will not expose me to my family."
"That you are fearful of your family knowing of me should be proof enough that I'm no good for you. Our rendezvous must end, and that'll be it. The decision is made."
She scoffed and flounced off in the direction of Lady Bagshaw. He followed her at a more sedate pace, determined to do one right thing once in his life, and leave her the hell alone.
* * *
Alessa strode into the foyer the following morning, dressed in a carriage gown of teal green, a small, feathered hat atop her head, finishing off her attire. Both Marco and Rowan stood at the staircase banister railing, waiting patiently as ever for her to be ready.
"I'm going out today. I am viewing a property in Fitzrovia that I'm looking to have made into a women's shelter." She continued walking, a footman opening the front door for her. "Mr. Oakley, you can remain here. I shall only need one guard today."
Marco shot Rowan a startled look before clearing his throat. "Your Highness, it is best that we take Mr. Oakley with us. There are rumored threats in London against your person. We need a second guard on the back as well as the front of the carriage to keep you safe."
She sighed, wanting them both to know she was displeased. She was acting a silly little fool, but she could not help herself. Being a princess gave her opportunities that others did not always receive, and if she wanted to use one of those opportunities and be put out by what Rowan had said to her the evening before, then she would.
She heard the hastened footsteps of Aunt Rosemary, who had agreed to go with her, especially since she was hoping to invest in Alessa's women's shelter and help as much as she could.
"I think you are too wonderful to be true. Helping those who are less fortunate than us. I will be sure to mention it at cards with my friends when next we meet and see if they would be willing to invest in your great cause," Aunt Rosemary stated, pulling on her gloves.
"It is the least I can do," she stated, starting for the carriage, her guards flanking her every step.
It wasn't long before they were traveling out of Mayfair and into the less-fortunate areas of the city. The poor living conditions for some of those in London becoming more apparent the farther they traveled from the opulent neighborhood. She hated seeing the poverty and the misery people faced every day. It placed them in vulnerable positions where sometimes they were forced into situations that are not safe or legal.
There was little poverty in Atharia. Her sister the queen had taken great pains in ensuring those who had slipped into poor living conditions under their mad uncle we
re once again earning a wage and providing for their families.
"As a woman who was in a vulnerable position last year in Atharia, I know how scary it can be to flee when you do not know where is safe. To seek help elsewhere is one of the hardest and scariest decisions I've ever had to face in my life," she stated to Aunt Rosemary, who sat across from her. "My uncle made a fool out of me before the royal court, called me a whore, among other names. If it were not for the few servants who were loyal to me and my sisters, I'm not certain I would have escaped. They saved me that day, for my uncle had taken a terrible dislike to me in particular, and I would not have been surprised had he not had an order put out to have me killed."
Lady Rosemary gasped, the jowls on her cheeks shaking a little at her horror. "Do you believe so? Surely your uncle would not be so cruel or mad."
Alessa turned away from the window, the harsh living conditions that met her eyes depressing her more and more. "I would not be surprised that the rumor of henchmen here in England trying to kill me was true. I know he is dead, but radicals live on with his desire for a king, and no queen in Atharia. I should think my sister has kept the truth from me, but I'm no fool. There is a reason why I have so many guards. Two in particular who hover about me like a shadow."
Aunt Rosemary chuckled, her eyes alight with mirth. "They do indeed do that. I agree with you, but there is little point in your uncle striking at you now. He is dead. There is no one else to take his place."
Alessa sighed. "That is true, but that does not mean they would not hurt us just out of spite. To push their point, their rhetoric that we ought not to have the power we do. To try to take that power away from my sisters and me. My uncle was mad, and he has frenetic followers. I would not put anything past the man."
"Well, at least you are safe here. There have been no attacks, and you're most adored in society. I know several gentlemen who admire you and would be more than willing to marry you if you only looked in their direction. And now, once the ton hears of your charitable heart, well, they will be kissing your silk slippers even more than they were before. Eager to help and contribute."
"I do not need them to kiss my slippers, but they're most welcome to throw a few coins my way to help fund my charities." She paused, thinking. "The women's shelter is not the only project I wish to fund. I have an orphanage I'm going to be helping as well. I have so much, while others have so little. I could not live with myself if I did not try to help where I can."
"You are a remarkable, strong, and charitable young woman. I am proud to know you, Your Highness," Aunt Rosemary said, taking Alessa aback, having not expected such praise.
"I do what I can and when I can. We were brought up to be kind and generous. It is not remarkable at all. Merely my duty to try to afford people their basic human rights."
Chapter 10
The carriage rolled to a stop, and Alessa looked out the window at a large reddish-brown rectangular-shaped building. The grounds were overgrown with weeds, and the roof looked as if a good wind gust would topple it to the ground.
Marco opened the carriage door, letting down the steps, and she took his hand, climbing down onto an old gravel road filled with ruts and puddles of water. Not only would the building require major repairs, but so too the outlying lands and road.
They walked along a small, grassy path. She was glad she had worn her ankle-high boots today and nothing more delicate to look over the building. A carriage pulled up behind hers, and her secretary jumped out, notebook in hand, before he started over to them all.
"Your Highness, apologies for my lateness. The wheel of the carriage became a little bogged just up the road. Do take care on your return home that you do not suffer the same fate as I almost did."
She nodded before continuing on. "What do we know of the building, Mr. Todd?"
"Well, it was built approximately fifty years ago as a stable for a large estate that has since been torn down. The stable remains, but over the years, everything within its walls has been stripped by locals and looters alike. If you intend to use it as a women's shelter, you will need to rebuild the floors, the second and third story, and then and only then will it be possible to outfit it with all the amenities we've spoken about already."
Alessa came up to a large, wooden double door that stood ajar, allowing the weather and animals free rein to enter the building to cause decay and rot. She had so many plans to help. She wanted at least a hundred beds set up in the home. Large fires to keep the women warm, and lessons to help improve their abilities and their chance of work. No woman would be allowed to leave unless she was gainfully employed.
"You shall find a builder who's willing to take on the job for a fair but reasonable price. Preferably someone local, who knows the people and would be less likely to be targeted for theft and the like while the building is in its construction stage."
"Of course, Your Highness," Mr. Todd agreed, scribbling in his notebook.
"Once the roof is on and the windows and doors repaired, the building should not suffer too much from the elements. But it is certainly the perfect size for my vision. I think this will do very well." She turned, wanting to walk around the outside. "I'm going to venture a little farther. I shall see you when we return to London. Have a name of a builder for me by the end of the week," she requested, starting off along the side of the building.
She felt more than heard the heavy footfalls of Rowan as he came to walk behind her. She tried to ignore the flipping of her stomach at having him so close to her again. Last evening after the ball, she returned home and had suffered a night where he had not sought her out.
Not that she should allow such liberties, but after their interlude the previous morning, she could not help but want more of him. They had not been so intimate that she was placing herself in harm of conceiving a child. The men and women in the court back home were always having love affairs, some of them boldly so. She could not see so much harm in a little flirtation.
It is not just a little flirtation, Alessa.
No, it was not, she supposed. She cared for the man at her back. She wanted to keep him for herself. Not that she would be allowed. Her family would never allow such a union.
"You did not need to accompany me. I did not ask for your company," she said curtly, annoyed at her family more than the man at her back. If only she were from a normal family, her marriage or union or whatever was happening between her and Rowan would not be a factor.
"Well, you have it." His words were as blunt as her own.
She wanted to turn about and face him. Force him to take back what he had said the day before and let them continue with their little romantic interludes whenever they pleased. To tell her that he would fight for them. Ignore anyone who said they would never marry and marry her anyway.
She did not like not getting her way, not when it came to matters of the heart, her heart in particular.
Boldness getting the best of her, she turned just as they rounded a corner and were out of sight of the others. "I suppose you think I'm splashing about my wealth. Trying to help others is quite high-handed of me. Is that why you talk to me so coldly, Mr. Oakley?" she asked him, hating the idea that she would never kiss him again. Never have her way with him whenever she pleased. Never have a kind word or sweet look that made her weak at the knees ever again.
Because he had decided she was too far above him and he too far beneath her.
He clasped his nape, a pained expression crossing his handsome face. "I do not think that at all. I think what you're doing here is simply wonderful. I'm honored to serve you and all that you stand for."
Alessa could not think of anything to say to such words. She did not want him to serve her like a good little servant. She wanted him, the man. She wanted him to be beside her when she made such decisions and worked on such charities.
"Well, that is pleasing to hear," she said, at last, wishing he would state he was wrong the other night and did want to be part of her life. Help her in all her
endeavors, both here in England and Atharia.
Alessa realized that here at the end of the building, they were quite alone. She wanted him to close the space between them and kiss her already. Instead, he remained apart, arms behind his back, head high and proud. Determined to keep her at arm's length.
She moved off, wanting to see the other side of the building. "Did you have an easy childhood, Rowan? Sometimes I think that you did not."
There was a hardness to him and coldness too sometimes. He was a man who seemed to protect himself by keeping others away. Was that what he was doing to her with his pushing her away? Abiding by Marco's advice and ending them before they had a chance to begin? She did not want anything to end between them. She wanted to live, to enjoy life to the fullest. How could she do that with a husband who alighted no fire in her belly, no matter how suitable he may be.
Last year she had stared down a bleak future, one where others tried to tear her down, take her life in fact. She would no longer live in fear, and neither should Rowan.
"My childhood was very different to yours, Your Highness. That is all you need to know about my life."
She glanced at him and noted the muscle in his jaw flexing, his body all but vibrating with unease. Did the memory of his childhood anger him? Hurt him? Scare him in some way? Whatever happened that could cause such a response?
Nothing good, her mind warned.
"I'm sorry if it was hard, Rowan," she said truthfully. Hating the idea that he was poorly treated or ever hungry or cold. Everything she wanted to stop for others if she could help it. Even in this small way. "I'm trying to help the women of London who have no place to go, no future or hope, but I have not forgotten the children."
"You intend to help children as well?" he asked her, the interest in his tone palatable.
"I do. There is an orphanage I'm to visit next week. Will you come with me? I can always use an opinion from those who have not had abundance and safety their whole life. I would welcome any suggestions that you may have, both for here and the orphanage rebuild and restructure."