The Prince & The Rogue

by Skyler Grey

  The young girl blinked, as if confused by the unexpected question.

  “Mistress? I’m not sure what you mean?” she replied nervously.

  Catherine turned to face her fully. “I mean, Abby, tell me what it is you do at the end of your day? When your mistress has gone to bed, your chores are completed, and you’ve nothing but time on your hands.”

  Her young maid quickly looked around the room bewildered, but slowly smiled. She eased closer and whispered, “Well, sometimes, I sneak off to the pond to go swimming.”

  Catherine’s face split into a huge grin. “Really?” Laughing, she patted the girl’s shoulder. “That sounds like such fun. Come; help me to get dressed for the party.”

  The girl quickly helped Catherine into her corset. When she had finished yanking and tugging on the laced bindings, Catherine felt herself gasping for air. The corset her aunt insisted she wear was nothing short of a torture device. The boned ribbing was stiff and it felt as if it pinched off her very air supply. The only purpose for the hateful garment was to emphasize her already small waist. She was half tempted to burn it, but was too afraid that her aunt might learn of it.

  After slipping the gown over her head, she adjusted the material until the folds of her skirt fell perfectly into place. The low neckline of her dress barely covered the smooth roundness of her breasts, forcing her to take short, light breaths for fear of them popping out. As she leaned her head against the corner bedpost while Abby pulled sharply on her stays, Catherine realized she did not care for this new fad sweeping the country.

  The young maid whispered nervously, “Did I do something wrong, mistress?”

  Catherine cut her eyes to the worried girl and shook her head as she stood upright. “No, no you did fine. It’s just, it’s just that it’s going to be a long and boring night and I’ve truly no desire to endure it.”

  Wide eyed, the girl looked at her mistress stunned. “Oh, what I’d give to be able to attend one of your parties, Mistress.”

  Catherine looked at her and smiled, thinking. What I’d give to let you go in my place. Turning away, Catherine stood before the large floor-length mirror. “Fetch Mary to me; I am in dire need of help with this mess of hair.”

  Nodding, the girl turned and was gone.

  Catherine looked at her hair as if for the first time. Pulling a thick curl over her bare shoulder, she wrapped it through her fingers. She supposed it was a pretty color as she studied the rich golden swirls blending throughout its long strands; but never having given much credit to her personal looks, she frowned. Turning, she looked at the rest of it as it hung heavily past her waist. A soft knock on her door quickly distracted her.

  Mary entered the room with ribbon’s and diamond beads. Within the hour, she had Catherine’s hair daintily spun atop her head leaving soft, cascading ringlets to fall along her face and neck. The beads weaved throughout her hair caught the soft rays of light and sparkled when she moved to match the glimmering silver threading throughout the material of her gown.

  She had to admit; her aunt did not spare any expense and had one of the most beautiful gowns she’d ever seen made especially for her. But, Catherine knew well it was due to the fact that her aunt had always made it a point to be the first in London to know the newest in fashions and relished the envious stares and whispers of those she enjoyed rubbing elbows with at many of her social events.

  As she slipped on the matching shoes, she gave herself one last glance. The girl from only hours earlier had disappeared, and in her stead was a young woman shimmering in the height of fashion.

  With a grim smile, Catherine turned. If her aunt wanted her to play the snobby aristocrat, then so be it. She had made sure she learned everything she could over the years. She even thought to have a little fun at the expense of the Ton’s favorite darlings, Florence and Hilary. Her main goal tonight was going to be interesting if not entertaining. The night was starting to look a little brighter as she reached for her cloak.

  Chapter Two

  The carriage ride to the Montgomery’s home was long and bumpy. By the time they arrived, she felt as if every organ in her body had been bounced and shifted to a location she was sure it did not belong. Not to mention the damned corset. If she didn’t have a broken rib, she was positive they were at least bruised.

  The door swung open and a smartly dressed coachman placed wooden steps at the base of the carriage door, offering her assistance. Forcing herself to play out the role her aunt insisted, she masked her face with arrogance.

  Her mother had always taught her to be kind to those beneath her status, reminding her that no matter the person’s class, they were also children of God and required the respect due them. But tonight…tonight she would forget her mother’s words. She had to if she were to accomplish her task, which was to put the wagging tongues of the high-and-mighty, whom her aunt chose to call friends, to rest. So tonight there were only those of the Ton who were of importance, all others were obsolete.

  By the time the night was over, she was sure no one would speak ill of her again, especially Hilary and Florence. The two sisters were the epitome of rudeness and brass. They cared not what they did, nor how they treated others. It always amazed Catherine how they managed to keep friends, but the young men and women who clamored about them were in constant competition to be considered favorites.

  It disgusted Catherine, and she was positive it was they who kept the pot stirred with rumors.

  And since her aunt insisted she attend the dreadful party, she decided to take it upon herself to do a little digging of her own by bribing a few house servants. It was amazing what one was willing to share for a few baubles. She was once again comforted with the thought of the evening possibly proving to be entertaining.

  Catherine felt her heart race as she climbed the long steps to Lady Montgomery’s home. Upon entering, she was immediately greeted by an older woman who was dressed extremely outrageous. Unable to help herself, Catherine smiled and instantly felt a kinship to the woman who called herself Lavinia.

  Slipping a gloved arm through Catherine’s, Lavinia gently pulled her along; pointing out those she considered worth being introduced to.

  “My dear, you look absolutely stunning. Now don’t tell me, I think I know who you are.” With that, she gave Catherine a wink as her mouth curled into a smile. “You must be the young woman everyone has been whispering about. The alluring Lady Townsend who, it is said, can speak to animals and has six toes?”

  Catherine’s head snapped around, her mouth dropping open. “Excuse me?”

  Lavinia could only nod as she chuckled. “Yes, my dear, rumor has it that you’ve six toes and a strange mark on your lower back, too. A mark that is associated, let’s say, to those who like to entertain the dark side.”

  Catherine was stunned. The rumors were worse than she’d thought and more ridiculous than she’d imagined. She couldn’t help but burst into laughter. The look of surprise on her new companion’s face caused her to laugh even harder. Slowly, the woman joined in, her old eyes crinkling as she snorted.

  Catherine finally regained her composure as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Once able to speak, she shook her head at the absurdity of the rumors. “Lavinia, if what is being said true, I fear I would have cast many spells on half the people in this room. And you can be sure that there would be at least two pleasantly plump pigs squealing loudly if I were to do so.”

  Lavinia burst into laughter as she pulled Catherine close. “My dear girl, I love you already. And by that most comical remark, I am assuming you’ve met Lady Hilary and Lady Florence?”

  Mischief filled the woman’s eyes and Catherine grinned.

  Lavinia chuckled as she tugged on Catherine’s arm. “Well then, let us make our way through this crowd of gossip-mongers and jaw-droppers and see what other interesting creatures might fill this room.”

  Catherine did not think she was going to enjoy the evening, but to her surprise, she was having quite a lot of
fun with her new friend who was comically loud and demanding. And to her shock, all those Lavinia addressed hastened to meet her needs.

  Catherine also could not help notice the hidden stares drawn to Lavinia’s gown. Not because it was elegant or enchanting, but because the pattern was bright and bold. Reds, blues, and greens burst across her wide skirts as if it had been swirled in a tub of colored paint. Her top was red and sequenced with green and blue beads. Clashing against her pale skin, it was just simply… hideous. And it took all Catherine had in her not to laugh every time she looked at it.

  Catherine had no clue as to Lavinia’s identity or station, nor did she care. She was friendly and laughed easily; something she herself had not done in a very long time. The evening was going well as Lavinia introduced her to several others around the party. It wasn’t until an older gentleman approached them, addressing Lavinia by her title that Catherine froze in her tracks, stunned.

  “My dear Princess Lavinia, you have no idea how seeing you causes my heart to soar.” Then leaning closer, he took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes glittering. Slowly they swept over her gown as he raised a thick brow. “And as always, making sure you are the center of attention.”

  Lavinia giggled as she pulled her hand free and tapped him playfully with her fan. “Oh, Marcus, you are such a tease, and I do so love it.”

  The man chuckled, dropping his hands to his side before giving her a low bow. Turning to Catherine, his eyes widened with curiosity. “Now, who is this lovely creature? Don’t tell me, she’s a cousin? A niece? My, but she’s almost as lovely as you were at her age, My Sweet.”

  The man reached for Catherine’s bare hand and raised it to his lips as he gave her a warm smile. “I am the Duke of Newbury, My Dear and at your disposal.”

  Catherine’s head began to whirl. She had heard her aunt mention on several occasion how she would give anything to rub elbows with the Princess Lavinia. But to her dismay, the woman seemed to always be elusive. She also would boast on how handsome the Duke of Newbury must have been in his prime. Another powerful figure she had yet to meet personally. Catherine began to smile privately, thinking how envious her aunt was going to be once she learned who her niece’s new friends were.

  The Duke was charming and the Princess Lavinia was a gem. She found herself liking them both immensely.

  As she looked at Lavinia, she caught a mischievous gleam in the woman’s eye. Grinning back, she faced the Duke. “I’m honored, Your Grace, and you are too kind. But I am only a new friend to the Princess. Not a relative.”

  The Duke flashed a smile and pulled her hand into the crook of his arm, then offered the other to the Princess. “Much the pity, My Dear, for you’ve certainly the looks of royalty about you. But any friend of the Princess, new or old, is a friend of mine; so, where to ladies?”

  Lavinia laughed and nodded toward the dance floor. “I’m in dire need of a glass of wine, Marcus. My throat is parched, and I’m sure our charming little butterfly, Lady Catherine, would love a dance.”

  Catherine laughed. She had kept a keen eye on everyone in the room, watching them whisper behind their fans and stare beneath their lashes. She felt her cheeks flush when the two sisters pointed in her direction and laughed. To her surprise, their mother smacked down their hands and scolded them firmly, causing Catherine to give each, a tight smile.

  “Your desires, as always, are mine to fulfill, my Princess.” Turning to Catherine, he winked. “Allow me to fetch this enchanting beauty a glass of wine, and then we shall rule the dance floor, My Dear.”

  Catherine laughed. “Most certainly we shall, Your Grace, and please, may I also have a glass?”

  She had already sipped down three to calm her nerves, but now she felt relaxed and giddy. She was going to enjoy her night in the company of her two new friends and to hell with the rest.

  It wasn’t long before the Duke returned, a glass in each hand. As the women sipped their wine, the music began. The Duke turned to Catherine as his eyes lit up. “Do tell me you can waltz?”

  Catherine grinned as the wine slipped deliciously down her throat, warming her belly. “I can waltz with the finest, Your Grace. Shall we?”

  Handing her drink off to a passing servant, Catherine offered the Duke her hand and together they entered the dance floor. The music struck up and they glided slowly across the room.

  The Duke smiled down at her with a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. “You spoke the truth, My Dear. You dance divinely. Not once have you stepped on my toes.”

  They both laughed as they swirled around the room in elegant grace. As the song ended, the Duke bowed low before her, offering his arm as he escorted her off the floor.

  The Princess clapped her hands, pulling Catherine back to her side. “My Dear, you dance like an angel. So graceful and smooth, it was as if your feet barely touched the floor.”

  Catherine laughed. “Thank you. I have mastered many dances over the years and am quite proud of it.”

  Excitement immediately filled the Princess’ eyes. “Have you? Tell me, there is a new dance abroad that no one here has learned yet. Do you know of it?”

  Catherine knew exactly the dance Lavinia spoke of and grinned. “Yes, I do. It is called the tango.” Then, bending forward, she teased, “And yes, I have mastered it as well.”

  “Ooooh, my dear, you just have to show me. I have been dying to see it. I’ve heard so much about it that I am beside myself with curiosity.”

  Catherine felt a warning go off in her head. The dance Lavinia wanted to see was certainly not one the prim and proper people of polite society would appreciate. It was a very sensual dance, fresh out of Spain. Only a few knew of it.

  Her personal dance instructor had just arrived from being abroad and he loved sharing his adventures with her, one of them being his visits to Spain and Morocco. He confided in Catherine about the new dance he’d learned and she had begged him to teach her. It was fun and exciting, and she had picked it up quickly.

  Looking around the room, she bit the corner of her lip, her head feeling a bit hazy. Feeling a gentle tug on her arm, she looked back at Lavinia.

  “Oh, please, Catherine, you dance so gracefully, I just know you will stun us all with the beauty of it.”

  Catherine reached for another glass of wine and took a quick sip. “My dear Princess, you have no idea what you are asking. This dance is not meant for the snobby, starched-pressed asses of polite society. I’m afraid they’d all swoon and faint at my feet. Then I’d be tempted to kick them as I passed by.”

  Downing the wine in almost one swallow, she froze as the Duke began to sputter. In her wine-induced state, she had spoken freely, using her colorful choice of words openly. To her horror, she slowly lowered her glass and looked guiltily at them. But before she could speak, the Princess and the Duke burst into laughter.

  Together they took her arms and began walking. The Duke snorted as he coughed, clearing his throat. “My dear, you have no idea how refreshing that statement was. I have been coming to these damn soirees for so long, I’ve forgotten just how stuffy and boring they really are.”

  The Princess agreed. “Oh, my, yes, Catherine. You are certainly a fresh bird among a crowd of so many preening peacocks. I just adore your honesty.”

  Catherine felt her shoulders drop with relief as they made their way outside to the balcony. The fresh air was exactly what she needed to clear her head as she leaned against the cool marble railing, inhaling deeply.

  She took in the beauty of the velvet night and star-studded sky as the cool air enveloped her face and arms, causing the soft tendrils of loose hair to flutter against her skin. She smiled as she watched her new friends slip down the steps into the small garden below. How wonderful the evening had become…that was until she heard the familiar sound of someone clearing their throat from behind.

  “My, my, but you have made quite the impression.”

  Barely glancing behind her, Catherine watched with narrowed
eyes as Florence, the younger of the two sisters strolled over to stand next to her. Catherine turned away, making an effort to ignore the snotty bitch.

  Not to be deterred, Florence continued. “So you think by rubbing elbows with the Princess and the Duke, it will help boost your status here among us?” She gave an ugly sneer as she leaned forward, closer to Catherine.

  “You will never be one of us, Catherine the strange. You will forever be an outcast and an embarrassment to yourself, as well as your family. If it weren’t for Devan’s sweet mother and his father’s money, I shudder to think where you might have ended up.”

  Then in a syrupy voice, she added, “Cleaning my laundry, I’m sure.” She laughed as she shoved away from the banister.

  Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. She felt her anger rise to a level she could no longer control. Whirling to face her tormentor, she leaned her back against the marble, her hands resting in balled fists against its cool surface. Just as Florence was about to reenter the dance room, Catherine whistled softly, stopping her.

  “I thought I smelled something rancid. Perhaps your foul breath, Florence no-ass? It seems to me, that a creature of your beauty or lack thereof would not be so interested in other people’s affairs but instead, be most worried about her own. At your age, I would think you to have a bountiful group of suitors. Why is it you’ve not so many? I know beauty is not everything, but a nice dowry is sure to compensate, don’t you agree?”

  Florence spun on her heels, her face flushed in anger. “How dare you speak to me in such a way!”

  Catherine raised a brow in mock innocence. “Why? Is it not common practice to speak the truth among your precious little pack of hyenas?” Frowning, Catherine pressed a finger to her lips before continuing. “Wait, I think I know why you might not have the number of suitors you should. It’s been said that you were once seen bathing, and it wasn’t exactly the prettiest sight.”

  Catherine’s face filled with feigned pity as she swung her foot back and forth beneath her gown. “Poor little Florence, I suppose it’s a blessing your mother has a decent dowry to offer up for you. If not for that, I myself shudder to think where exactly you might end up.”