Harlequin Historical May 2020--Box Set 2 of 2

by Harper St. George

  With a sob she put up her hand to stop him.

  ‘Wait, wait. What if I do not wish to go to Russia?’

  There was a half-beat of hesitation before the Prince replied, ‘Then you need not go. We are not savages, you will not be coerced. You are free to make your own decision.’

  She looked at Tristan, but he avoided her gaze as he jumped up and walked away across the room. Silently she begged him to turn around, but he stared resolutely out of the window.

  ‘There is no question. You must go.’ He threw the words over his shoulder. ‘What is there here for you? I know how much you want to travel, to see the world. You have your wish, then.’

  He was speaking harshly, his voice cold, like a stranger, yet only moments earlier he had been about to ask the Prince for permission to marry her. Natalya put a hand to her head. Something was wrong.

  ‘Your Serene Highness,’ she addressed the Prince as she had heard others do. ‘Would you—that is, may I have a few moments alone with Lord Dalmorren, if you please?’

  ‘No.’ Tristan turned. ‘It would be most improper. Besides, there is nothing to say that Prince Borkusov cannot hear.’

  ‘Very well.’ She dug her nails into her palms until they hurt in an effort to speak calmly. ‘I thought, my lord, that you wished to marry me.’

  ‘That was when I believed you had no other option. Everything has changed. You are a princess. You have the world at your command.’

  With the window behind him, she could not read his expression. But his voice was hard, devoid of all emotion.

  ‘I do not want the world.’

  The Prince pushed himself out of his chair and gave a small tut of displeasure. ‘Now that, Natalya, is a most foolish statement. How can you know what you want until you have tried it?’

  ‘His Serene Highness speaks the truth,’ said Tristan. ‘You have the opportunity to live a life of untold luxury and privilege. Your every wish will be granted.’

  ‘No, it won’t!’

  She flung the words at him. Suddenly she was fighting for her life. She jumped up, frustrated by the evening sunlight that kept his face in shadow. She took a step closer.

  ‘I thought you loved me.’

  ‘I felt sorry for you.’

  His words hit her like cold water. She stopped, throwing out an arm to grip the chair-back and steady herself.

  ‘I d-do not believe you.’

  ‘Oh, I think you should, my dear,’ said the Prince, coming towards her. ‘I understand Lord Dalmorren’s dilemma. Here is a young woman, frightened, alone. Without parents or family. She is in need of protection. Any man of honour would feel the same. But now he understands that is not the case. You are not alone. You have a family and the opportunity to make a great match.’ He touched her arm and said gently, ‘Think of it, Princess Natalya Mikhailovna. I will take you to your homeland, you will resume your rightful place in an ancient and much-respected Romanov family. Would you reject such an honour in order to remain in England and marry a mere baron?’

  Natalya looked at Tristan. He neither moved nor spoke. She tried to smile.

  ‘Would that be so very bad?’ she murmured.

  ‘As your grandfather I could not agree to it,’ the Prince announced coldly. ‘My lands, my fortune, can only pass to you if you return with me to Russia and live with your family. And if you marry anyone below your own rank, then you lose the right to call yourself Princess.’

  ‘And now I know you have family,’ added Tristan, ‘I cannot in honour marry you against their wishes.’

  ‘Thank you, Lord Dalmorren.’ The Prince bowed to him. ‘I am relieved to hear you say so. I can now die content, knowing the Borkusov fortune will pass through my direct line. I will take the Princess to Russia with me and she will become a much-loved and respected member of my household. My own dear wife died a few years ago and it will make me happy to see my granddaughter take her place as mistress of my properties. She may have charge of it all, if she so wishes.’

  ‘I can think of no woman more suited to take on that task, your Serene Highness.’ At last Tristan came away from the window. Natalya saw how pale he was, noted the tense line of his jaw. When he turned his gaze upon her, his eyes were as cold and hard as slate. ‘So. Everything is decided.’

  A sudden wave of anger flared in Natalya.

  ‘How dare you!’ Her furious glare moved from one man to the other. ‘Do you think I will allow the two of you to organise my life? How dare you be so presumptuous as to think you will decide what I should do. I shall make my own choice!’

  ‘You would be foolish beyond belief not to go with the Prince,’ said Tristan harshly. ‘There is nothing for you here, madam. There is no choice.’

  Natalya looked at the two men facing her, Tristan pale and implacable, the Prince coldly confident of the outcome. Her ragged breathing steadied. She had one final card to play. She knew it might cost her everything, but suddenly she felt quite calm.

  She said quietly, ‘Oh, but there is a choice, my lord. I can leave England with the Prince, or I can remain here. A ruined woman.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ The Prince stared at her.

  ‘Confound it, woman, say nothing more!’

  She ignored Tristan’s angry command and turned to her grandfather, meeting his startled gaze quite steadily.

  ‘You may be aware, your Highness, that when Lord Dalmorren rescued me, we were obliged to stay at Farnell Hall, some miles east of Devizes.’

  ‘Natalya, be quiet!’

  ‘For three nights, we slept in the same room. In the same bed.’

  The Prince shook his head. ‘But this cannot be. My son’s instructions for your upbringing were quite explicit. You were to remain unmarried, a maid, until you could be restored to your rightful station, when you would be a fitting bride for any prince in Russia.’ He scowled. ‘This Pridham, he wrote to me a long letter. He assured me nothing had occurred during your absence from his house!’

  ‘Mr Pridham wanted to engage a doctor to examine me—’

  Tristan’s statue-like demeanour shattered. He let out a roar.

  ‘He did what?’

  ‘I refused,’ Natalya kept her eyes fixed on the Prince. ‘I persuaded him it was not necessary. You may ask the servants at Farnell Hall if you wish. They will tell you we were Mr and Mrs Quintrell, man and wife, while we were there.’ She raised her chin. ‘I am no longer a maid. I gave myself to Lord Dalmorren out of love. I do not wish to marry anyone else and I doubt they will want to marry me, once they know the truth.’

  The Prince turned his outraged gaze upon Tristan. ‘Is this true, Lord Dalmorren?’

  ‘We shared a room, yes.’

  ‘And we shared a bed,’ added Natalya, meeting his eyes and daring him to contradict her.

  There followed a long, tense silence before Tristan exhaled sharply.

  ‘She would hardly make up such a story…’ his lips twitched ‘…just to marry a mere baron.’

  Only then did Natalya realise she had been holding her breath.

  ‘But you are the Nineteenth Baron Dalmorren,’ she reminded him, smiling.

  The look that passed between them was not lost on the Prince. He shook his head.

  ‘You are more like your father than I had thought, Natalya,’ he told her, a hint of petulance in his voice. ‘You will let your heart be ruled by love.’

  ‘I will. If love will have me.’ She held her hands out to Tristan. ‘You see, I do not want to be a princess. I want to be a lover, a companion, to face life’s challenges side by side with my mate.’

  The Prince closed his eyes and gave a little shudder.

  Tristan came over to her, smiling. ‘Such language, my love, you are embarrassing his Serene Highness.’

  ‘Which shows you just how far beyond redemption I am sunk!’ She took his han
ds and held them against her breast. ‘I love you, Tristan, and I will marry you, if you will have me. But if you have doubts, if you are not perfectly sure, I pray you will tell me. I am not quite destitute; I shall throw myself on Mrs Ancrum’s mercy. I am sure she will take me on as her companion.’

  ‘No need for that.’ He smiled down at her, his eyes warm. ‘I quite forgot to tell you, she informed me before I left that she has made you her heir.’

  ‘There you are, then, I am not at all to be pitied and you need not feel obliged to offer for me.’

  ‘I do not feel in the least obliged,’ he muttered, pulling her close. ‘I love you to distraction, my heart’s darling, and I want to marry you. More than anything in this whole damned world.’

  He kissed her then and for a long, long moment she forgot everything but the comfort of his embrace.

  Until a cough from his Serene Highness reminded them of their surroundings.

  ‘Da, da, you have convinced me that you will have one another and I shall not stand in your way. But there are practicalities we must discuss.’

  Tristan dragged his thoughts away from kissing Natalya and reluctantly raised his head. ‘Practicalities? You need not concern yourself, Prince Borkusov, I will deal with everything.’

  ‘You are marrying my granddaughter, Baron Dalmorren. It must be done correctly.’

  Natalya twisted out of Tristan’s arms and turned to the Prince.

  ‘Oh, I thought you had quite cast me off.’

  ‘My lands and fortune must remain in Russian hands. If you will not come to Russia, then I cannot make you my heir. However, you remain my granddaughter and I shall do what I can for you while I am in England.’ He paused. ‘Let me see. By your English calendar it is the thirteenth today. If the marriage can take place before I leave on the twenty-second I will attend and give you my blessing.’

  Natalya shook her head. ‘It takes three weeks for the banns to be called.’

  ‘We might obtain a special licence,’ suggested Tristan. The Prince raised an enquiring brow and he explained, ‘The Archbishop of Canterbury will grant a special licence and a couple may be married wherever and whenever they wish.’

  ‘Ah. Then you may leave that to me. I shall attend to it.’

  Tristan coughed. ‘I think you might find, your Highness, that I need to visit the Archbishop in person.’

  The Prince waved this away with an imperious hand.

  ‘My aide-de-camp shall arrange the whole. Natalya will be married at the embassy, as befits her rank as my granddaughter. It is not impossible that one or two of the Allied Sovereigns, perhaps even your Prince Regent, might attend. If they are not engaged elsewhere.’

  ‘Wait, wait, I pray you,’ Natalya objected. ‘I have not agreed to any of this!’

  The Prince looked at her, one brow raised. ‘But you are desperate to marry your Baron, are you not?’

  ‘I am determined to marry him,’ she said. ‘But—’

  ‘Then it shall be as I say. I deplore your decision to marry beneath you, but I am a generous prince. I am a benevolent grandfather. I shall bestow upon you a handsome wedding settlement.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘Now. It is very late. We must have a room prepared for Lord Dalmorren tonight.’ He reached for the bell, then stopped. ‘No. I shall go and find Piotr myself.’

  * * *

  When he had left the room, Natalya and Tristan remained at a distance, looking warily at one another. Tristan was the first to break the uneasy silence.

  ‘I never expected his Serene Highness to show so much tact.’

  ‘Nor did I. But…’

  ‘But what, my darling?’

  She looked at him. ‘Oh, Tristan, have I coerced you most dreadfully into this marriage? I never meant to do that.’

  He laughed and closed the gap between them in a couple of strides.

  ‘I love you so desperately that I would marry you under any circumstances.’ He caught her hands. ‘The Russian Embassy is not where I expected to become leg-shackled, but it will do admirably. However, if you would prefer to marry in Bath, with all your friends, you must say.’

  She stopped him. ‘I have very few real friends, Tristan. I hope we can persuade Mrs Ancrum to travel here. There is just time for it to be arranged. But what of your family?’

  ‘Mama is currently with my sister and—!’ He broke off and raked a hand through his hair. ‘Good God, Freddie! How am I going to explain to him that I have stolen you for myself?’

  A little gurgle of laughter escaped her.

  ‘You have not stolen me at all, my lord. Freddie was well on the way to falling out of love with me before I was abducted.’ She twinkled up at him. ‘The Grishams are already in town and I think, if we can persuade them to come to the wedding and to bring Jane, you will see that your nephew’s affections are already turning elsewhere.’

  ‘Truly? Then I am very relieved to hear it! As I was saying, Mama, Katherine and Freddie are currently at Frimley, which is barely thirty miles from London so they will most definitely attend.’ He hesitated. ‘And what of the Pridhams?’

  Natalya’s smile slipped a little.

  ‘As my guardians for so many years they should be invited, although I find it hard to forgive them for telling me nothing about my origins!’

  ‘Ah, but if Pridham had defied his instructions, I might not have thought it necessary to come to Bath and see Freddie’s mysterious Miss Fairchild.’

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide with horror. ‘We might never have met! Oh, Tris, it doesn’t bear thinking of.’

  ‘Then don’t,’ he told her, pulling her into his arms. ‘Stop thinking and kiss me.’

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781488065682

  The Mysterious Miss Fairchild

  Copyright © 2020 by Sarah Mallory

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Her new position

  As mistress of Pendragon Hall?

  Unfairly dismissed from her previous position, her reputation ruined, governess Maud Wilmot is forced to take on a new identity. When she feels an ever-growing attraction to her new employer, Cornish railway entrepreneur D
ominic Jago, Maud longs to reveal the truth. But doing so could end their fledgling romance before it’s truly begun…

  She pulled out the letter that she had tucked inside the book of fairy tales.

  The strange address was printed at the top: Pendragon Hall, Land’s End, Cornwall. A crest, a shield of three black crosses on gold and a band of black in an upward arrow, lay below.

  Dear Miss Wilmot,

  Your acceptance of the situation as governess has been received. Train tickets are enclosed. I will expect you at Pendragon Hall at your earliest convenience.

  Yours sincerely,

  Dominic Jago

  The handwriting was strong and large, the words in black ink across the paper, the message curt.

  Jago. It was an unusual name. She had never heard it before.

  All she had to hope now was that he had never heard her real name.

  Author Note

  Meet the new governess…

  The role of the governess was not always an easy one in Victorian England. Like Maud Wilmot, the heroine of this tale, many governesses existed “between stairs,” accepted neither by the servants nor by the family, and some were at the mercy of their more unscrupulous employers. Governesses were expected to provide both academic and moral education, and to be of high moral character themselves. Any slur on their character, whether true or not, could mean ruin.

  But during the nineteenth century, governesses began to stand up for their profession. Some were “bluestockings,” passionately committed to the education of women. Like Maud, many governesses used fables and fairy tales for the moral education of their young charges. Such stories were full of wonder, wisdom and, often, warning to women. A well-known governess, Madame Leprince de Beaumont, published educational guides for young ladies in the 1800s. Her Moral Tales became famous handbooks and included the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast.

  I hope you enjoy this romance of a storytelling governess who learns never to give up on a happy ending.