The Prince's Bride

by Victoria Alexander

  Still, it was entirely possible that one way or another, she already was.

  Chapter 3

  “Are you quite all right?” Marianne’s concerned voice pulled Jocelyn from her thoughts. The older girl leaned across the closed carriage and placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “You are unusually quiet.”

  “Am I?” Jocelyn said absently and wondered why it was taking so long to travel the brief distance home to Effington House.

  “You are indeed and for that we should all be exceedingly grateful,” Becky said. “You’d been anything but quiet until we entered the carriage.”

  Jocelyn stared unseeing out the window into the night. She couldn’t deny Becky’s charge. Jocelyn had indeed been overly spirited and unusually animated since what she thought of as the incident.

  She hadn’t wanted to think of it at all and indeed at first had tried to ignore the whole thing. She’d returned to the reception as if nothing of any consequence had happened. In truth, she really didn’t believe she was in any danger. Still, she’d found herself chatting nervously and laughing too brightly and jumping at any unexpected movement. She’d made certain she was surrounded by suitors or friends or family every moment. And when an elderly gentleman had dropped a plate she’d uttered a short scream at the sound, then laughed to cover her terror.

  And terror was exactly what it was. It clogged her throat and thudded in her chest and tensed the muscles of her shoulders.

  “She’s probably behaving so oddly because the prince has yet to declare himself,” Becky said smugly.

  Alexei. She’d scarcely given him more than a momentary thought since the incident. How very odd when he was all she could think about before someone had tried to kill her, yet afterward he’d barely entered her mind.

  “I still don’t trust him,” Thomas murmured.

  “Of course you don’t, Thomas,” Marianne said. “And we don’t expect you to. It’s part of your charm.”

  Jocelyn barely heard the conversation around her. Even if the prince did not dwell in her thoughts, in those rare moments when she was not preoccupied with hiding her fear, that annoying viscount did. Or more precisely, the kiss of that annoying viscount. And the way he’d held her ... and how safe she’d felt in his arms.

  “She’ll be insufferable once she becomes a princess.” Becky sighed.

  “I shall quite enjoy being insufferable,” Jocelyn murmured in an absent manner.

  “More insufferable,” Becky said pointedly.

  At last the carriage pulled to a halt. For once Jocelyn was grateful for Thomas’s typical refusal to wait for a servant to open the door. She was as impatient as he to escape from the confined space. He pushed open the door, jumped down, and turned to assist Marianne, then Becky. Jocelyn pulled her cloak more tightly around her, drew a deep breath, and allowed Thomas to help her out. The group gathered in the pool of illumination cast by the gaslights on the street, then headed toward the impressive front entry of Effington House.

  The door swung open in welcome and Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief. Even though the Shelton sisters had only lived there for a few months, right now it was home. And home had never looked so safe. She reached the first step, and chaos erupted around her.

  Without warning a sharp retort sounded, echoing in the dark night. One of the bricks framing the door a scant few feet in front of her exploded, scattering shards of red clay over the walk. Shouts sounded from somewhere behind her.

  “Bloody hell, that was a shot!” Thomas seized Marianne and shoved her into the house. “Quickly! Now!”

  For less than a moment, fear froze Jocelyn where she stood. Then panic gripped her and she grabbed Becky and pulled her toward the door.

  Another shot rang out. Another spray of fragments burst from the brick facade.

  “Get in the house!” a voice yelled from the shadows. She recognized it at once. Giddy relief flooded her with the immediate, and probably absurd, belief that if Beaumont was here all would be well.

  She and Becky stumbled over the threshold. Thomas slammed the door behind them. “Mansfield,” he barked at the servant standing stunned in the foyer. “Get my pistol!”

  In the back of her mind, Jocelyn noted how very absurd Helmsey’s order sounded here in the grand, marble-floored foyer.

  Before the butler could move, pounding sounded at the door. Thomas hesitated.

  “Let him in,” Jocelyn said quickly and started forward. “He could be—”

  Thomas glared. “Who could be—”

  “Thomas!” Beaumont’s urgent voice called from behind the door. “Let me in.”

  “It’s Beaumont.” Jocelyn reached for the door.

  “Rand?” Thomas jerked the door open. “What in the name of all—”

  Beaumont brushed passed him and Thomas snapped the door shut in his wake. Beaumont’s gaze flicked over each of them as if assessing damage, then settled on Jocelyn. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “No one seems to be.” Marianne caught her breath and glanced around the gathering, then nodded. “I think we’re fine.”

  “But confused as hell.” Thomas glared at his friend. “What is going on, Rand? Why was someone shooting at us? And more to the point: who was shooting at us?”

  “I have my men trying to find him now.” Beaumont addressed Thomas but his gaze stayed on Jocelyn.

  “Your men?” Thomas said slowly. “I see.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Becky said.

  “Neither do I,” Marianne added. “Perhaps you should explain it to us all.”

  Thomas nodded at Beaumont. “That’s up to him.”

  Beaumont stared at Jocelyn as if there were no one present but the two of them. As if once again he would take her in his arms. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She stared back. He had already saved her once tonight. If not for him ... Abruptly anger, intense and unreasonable, wiped away her fear. If not for him, none of this would have happened. “No thanks to you.”

  His eyes widened. “My dear lady, I can scarcely be blamed for—”

  “You can be blamed for all of it!” she snapped. “Every horrible thing that has happened to me tonight can be blamed on you!”

  “What horrible things?” Marianne’s voice rose.

  “Horrible things? Really?” Becky said eagerly. “How very exciting.”

  “It wasn’t the least bit exciting,” Jocelyn said sharply. “It was quite terrifying and it was all his fault.”

  “My fault?” Disbelief washed across Beaumont’s handsome face. “How is it my fault?”

  Jocelyn planted her hands on her hips. “If you had been doing whatever it is you’re suppose to be doing that vile man would never have had the chance to try to kill me.”

  “Kill you?” Shock colored Marianne’s voice.

  “Bloody hell,” Thomas said under his breath.

  “That is horrible,” Becky murmured.

  “If you had stayed where you were supposed to be you wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place.” Beaumont stepped toward her in a decidedly menacing manner. “But instead you were behaving like a common trollop.”

  “A trollop? How dare you!” She drew back her hand to slap him but he caught her wrist.

  “Now, now.” Anger snapped in his dark eyes. “I wouldn’t allow you to hit me before and I shall not allow it now.”

  “Why did you want to hit him?” Becky stepped forward but Marianne pulled her back. “Is he the one who tried to kill you then?”

  “No.” Jocelyn wrenched free of his grip, her voice dripping with disdain. “He kissed me.”

  Thomas snorted.

  Becky snickered.

  “Oh dear,” Marianne murmured.

  “I saved your life.” Beaumont’s tone was hard.

  “That would save my life.” Becky nudged Marianne. “He’s really quite—”

  “Quiet,” Marianne’s voice was firm.

  “Hah!” Jocelyn scoffed. “I wouldn’t have needed saving if you had—
”

  Beaumont cut in. “Or rather if you hadn’t left the reception for a private rendezvous with the prince—”

  “You did what?” Aunt Louella’s voice rang from the stairway.

  All eyes turned toward the stairs. Aunt Louella stood leaning on the rail, a diminutive figure who somehow towered above them all and who now quivered with indignation.

  Jocelyn groaned to herself and stepped forward. “It’s not quite as bad as it seems—”

  “No?” Aunt Louella hobbled down the steps and Thomas moved to help her. “Then how bad is it?”

  “He wanted to meet me privately because he was going to ask me to marry him,” Jocelyn said staunchly.

  Beaumont scoffed. “I scarcely think that was the proposal he had in mind.”

  Jocelyn shot him a scathing glare and wished she had something far more lethal to fling at him.

  “I never did trust him,” Thomas muttered.

  Aunt Louella’s gaze slipped from Jocelyn to Beaumont and back. “I fail to attend one gala and the next thing I know you are off arranging clandestine meetings, with a prince no less, and—”

  “And don’t forget someone trying to kill her,” Becky said brightly.

  Jocelyn winced. Silence fell over the assembly. Aunt Louella’s eyes narrowed. “I want to hear everything. Mansfield, take their wraps. All of you into the parlor. Now.”

  A few minutes later they had arranged themselves in the parlor. Aunt Louella and Marianne shared a sofa. Becky sat on another, Jocelyn chose a chair, and both men stood by the mantel. The room was heavy with tension and thick with the scent of the dozen or so bouquets sent by the prince in recent days.

  Jocelyn's mind raced for an acceptable excuse for her behavior. Of course, if she’d actually met Alexei there would be no need to explain anything. She’d be betrothed to a prince and well on her way to becoming a princess. Aunt Louella could scarcely complain about that.

  “Now then.” Aunt Louella settled back and pinned Jocelyn with an unflinching gaze. “Start from the beginning.”

  “Very well.” Jocelyn drew a deep breath and related everything from the moment the prince had requested their meeting to the knife imbedded in the door frame by her head.

  “I gather this is where you come in.” Aunt Louella gestured for Beaumont to begin. “If you please.”

  Beaumont picked up the story but left out a great deal, including the part where he’d kissed her. Jocelyn was at once grateful and annoyed.

  “Then those were shots I heard in the street?” Aunt Louella asked.

  Beaumont nodded. “We’d thought, since we were unable to apprehend them, they would realize Lady Jocelyn was no threat and would not try to harm her again. Obviously ...” He paused and cast Jocelyn an apologetic look. She pointedly turned away. “We were wrong.”

  Aunt Louella studied him for a long moment. “You’re lying, my lord.”

  “Aunt Louella,” Marianne started but her aunt waved her still.

  “That’s not at all what you thought is it?” Aunt Louella shook her head. “If you truly believed there was no danger to Jocelyn, why did you come here tonight?”

  “Indeed.” Jocelyn frowned and stared at Beaumont. Everything had happened so fast she hadn’t considered that point. “Why were you here?”

  Beaumont looked like a boy caught with a stolen cookie. “Well, you see ... That is ...”

  “I know.” Becky jumped to her feet. “He was here because if the villains came back to get Jocelyn he’d be able to catch them.” Excitement rang in Becky’s voice. “Don’t you see? It was a trap and Jocelyn was the ...” Realization dawned on Becky’s face. “Oh my,” she murmured and dropped back on the sofa.

  “Bad move, old man,” Thomas said under his breath.

  “The bait?” Jocelyn’s eyes widened and her voice rose. She got to her feet. “You used me—”

  “Not really,” Beaumont said quickly.

  “As bait?” She stared in stunned disbelief and stepped closer. “Like cheese for a mouse? Or a rat dangled before a cat?”

  “Not deliberately.” He held up a hand. “However, I knew there was a possibility—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice had an odd, high sound suspiciously close to a scream but she didn’t care.

  “Why would I?” He stepped to her and gripped her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he held her tight. “Look at me,” he ordered. She stared up into his eyes. Dark and endless and, God help her, to be trusted. “What would you have done if I told you?”

  “I don’t know. I could have—”

  “You could have done nothing.” His tone was firm. “Absolutely nothing. You simply would have been scared.”

  “More frightened than I was already? That’s hardly possible.” She jerked free and turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. “I have been terrified since it happened.”

  “Oh dear, Jocelyn.” Marianne stood and crossed the room to Jocelyn and enfolded her sister in her arms. “You should have told me.”

  “And you should have told me,” Thomas said to Beaumont.

  Beaumont blew a long breath. “I was going to tell you in the morning. Though we were at the ready, I honestly did not expect anything to happen tonight.”

  “It scarcely matters.” Marianne stroked Jocelyn’s hair much as she had when they were very small. And now, as then, Jocelyn’s fears eased. “It’s all over now.”

  No one said a word.

  “Thomas?” Marianne’s question hung in the air.

  Jocelyn pulled free from her sister and swiveled toward the men. “It is over, isn’t it?”

  Beaumont and Thomas exchanged glances.

  “Is it over, Rand?” Thomas asked in a sober voice that chilled her blood.

  “I don’t know,” Beaumont said simply. “I wish I did.”

  “Then what do you propose we do?” Aunt Louella’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if they were discussing a matter of no more importance than the daily menu.

  “First of all, we shall have to make sure she’s protected.” Thomas drummed his fingers on the mantel. “There is an army of servants on staff here and I shall alert them to deny entrance to strangers. I can also hire additional—”

  “It’s not enough,” Beaumont said slowly. His gaze met Jocelyn’s. “She will be in danger as long as she remains in London.”

  “Then she shall leave London immediately,” Thomas said firmly. “We shall take her to the country. We’d planned to leave for Effington Hall in a few days anyway. We shall simply go at once.”

  “No.” Beaumont’s tone was hard and unequivocal. “As long as she is with you, you are all in danger. Any one of you could have been shot tonight.”

  “That does make it all somewhat less exciting, doesn’t it,” Becky said with a sigh. “It would be rather annoying to be shot by accident.”

  Marianne cast her an irritated look.

  “Well, it would,” Becky muttered.

  Marianne ignored the younger girl. “Besides, Effington Hall would be the first place anyone would look for her.”

  “I could go home then.” Jocelyn looked from face to face, hoping to find a glimmer of agreement anywhere. “To Shelbrooke Manor. There’s no one there but the servants and with Richard still away no one would ever think I would—”

  “Shelbrooke Manor is as obvious as Effington Hall,” Thomas pointed out. “We need to find a place unconnected to her. To any of us.”

  “Then there is nothing else to be done.” Aunt Louella folded her hands in her lap and directed her words to Beaumont. “You shall take charge of her.”

  “What?” Jocelyn whirled toward her aunt. “You can’t be serious. What on earth do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, my dear child, that this man is clearly the only one qualified to truly protect you and keep you out of the hands of these madmen.”

  “Him?” Jocelyn waved disparagingly at Beaumont. “How can you say that? He’s done a terrible job of it so far.”


  “That may well be. Still”—Aunt Louella turned toward Beaumont—“from what’s been said here, and a very great deal that hasn’t, I gather you are in the employ of the government. Our government, that is.”

  Beaumont nodded. “At the moment.”

  “And I am also aware that he is an old friend of yours.” She glanced at Thomas. “Is that correct, my lord?”

  “I have known him for years,” Thomas said.

  “And is he a good and honorable man?”

  “He is, my lady, as well as a true and loyal friend. I would trust him with my life.” Thomas grinned wryly. “I have trusted him with much more.”

  “Very well then.” Aunt Louella nodded in satisfaction. “It is settled.”

  “Nothing is settled as far as I’m concerned,” Jocelyn said.

  Her aunt ignored her and directed her attention only to Beaumont. “Do you know of a place where she will be safe?”

  Beaumont thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I believe I do.”

  “I don’t care,” Jocelyn said stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not going anywhere with him.”

  She stepped to her aunt and knelt on the carpet before her. Jocelyn had always been her aunt’s favorite. The only one of the Shelton sisters who truly understood the value of a season in London and fine clothes and a good match.

  Jocelyn took the older woman’s hands and gazed into her eyes hoping against hope that if she’d ever had any power to persuade her aunt she had it tonight.

  “Aunt Louella, if I were to go with him, no matter how legitimate the reasons, my reputation would be ruined. And any chance for a good marriage, let alone a match with a prince, would be destroyed. My very life would be over.”

  “But you would still have a life, my dear Jocelyn. And that is the overwhelming consideration in all of this.”

  Jocelyn’s voice took on an edge of panic. “But you’ve never allowed me, or any of us, to do anything that that could be considered the tiniest bit improper. Surely you can see the potential for scandal here. Regardless of the circumstances, I can’t believe you would ever permit me to go away with a man, any man, let alone a virtual stranger.”