Princess in Disguise

by Karen Hawkins

  Dizzy from the fall, she lay on her back, staring up at the sky. She cautiously moved her feet and arms, glad that, other than an overall achy bruised feeling and a scrape on one cheek, she didn’t seem to have incurred any damage. So that’s why he said the walk could be dangerous. She should have listened to Kintore. But then, he hadn’t bothered to listen to her, so—

  Tears formed again. She missed him. Missed him so much that she could almost imagine that Doya’s approaching voice was actually Kintore’s. “Which just shows you how mad I have grown,” she told herself, pushing herself upright and almost falling again. “Goodness, it’s icy.”

  She sat up and looked around. The trees grew aslant up the steep embankment she’d tumbled down, and the large clearing was nothing but a thick blanket of snow. Here and there small puddles had appeared where the snow had melted.

  Again, she heard her name, and again her heart ached at how much the voice sounded like Kintore’s. “I must have hit my head,” she muttered as she put her hands down and tried to stand. “Doya! I’m here—”

  Her feet flew out from under her and she went down, her head hitting the ground with a loud crack.

  She blinked and grabbed her head with both hands, the noise more frightening than the pain.

  “Alexandra!”

  From where she was sprawled upon the ground, she slowly turned her head. Kintore stood at the top of the path. His hat and scarf were gone, his coat open, and he looked as if he’d been running. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Doya came for me.” He grabbed a nearby tree trunk and began navigating his way down the slick slope to the bottom of the ravine.

  She rolled to her side and rose to her knees.

  “Alexandra, don’t move!” His voice snapped like a whip.

  Bruised and battered and embarrassed to have gotten herself in this predicament, she sniffed. “I must get up.”

  “No. It’s slick and you’ll fall.”

  “I’ve already fallen.” She put a hand on the ground and pushed herself from her knees. “This snow—”

  “Don’t. Move.” He was still navigating his way down the slope, slipping here and there, but managing to keep his footing.

  She’d made it to her feet and sent him a rigid glare. “Who are you to tell me to move or not move?”

  Kintore had reached the bottom of the ravine, his face white. “The ice will crack if you walk on it! I can already see places where it’s melted all the way through and—”

  Crack. She looked down at her feet. A jagged line appeared in the snow, creaking as it raced across the ground like a bolt of lightning. Her heart froze in her throat and her gaze flew to Kintore’s. “This is a pond.”

  He nodded tensely. “Stand still.”

  She gulped, his fear increasing her own. Beneath her feet there was a low rumble; she could feel the vibration under her heels.

  Kintore was looking wildly around. “It’s like a spiderweb. The big crack that you saw is just the beginning.” He found a tree limb and hefted it, then dropped it. He found another limb, this one much larger. “We don’t know where the weak spots are. If you put your foot in the wrong place—” His gaze locked with hers, his expression softening when he caught her expression. “Alexandra, don’t look so frightened. I won’t leave here without you.”

  Dead or alive?

  He hooked a hand around a tree and leaned way out across the ice. “I’m going to put this limb down. Once it’s in place, I want you to slowly—very slowly—walk toward it. As soon as you reach it, walk beside it. If the ice breaks and you fall in, grab the limb and I’ll pull you out.”

  Swallowing her nerves, she managed to say, “That’s the best plan you have? It sounds as if I’ll be doing all of the work.”

  His lips quirked, but he instantly grew serious. “Be careful; the ice gets thinner toward the shore. If it’s cracked where you are, then—”

  She took a deep breath and slowly lifted her hands to either side.

  He called out softly, “Alexandra, be careful. For me.”

  As her gaze met his, she knew that if she were to die this instant, the only thing she’d regret was that he’d never know that she loved him. They’d known one another for such a short time, and yet she loved him with a passion that was as deep as the fear that now held her in its grip.

  And it would kill her if she didn’t tell him. “Kintore, I—”

  “Keep moving slowly,” he ordered, his voice so terse that she did as he said.

  “But I want you to know—”

  Another crack sounded and her left foot sank an inch. Icy water swirled about her boot. She gulped and glanced at the tree branch, still at least two yards away.

  She raised her eyes to his. Crack! Her other foot sank, numbing cold swallowing her foot.

  “It’s breaking— Jump, Alexandra! JUMP!”

  Closing her eyes, she jumped toward the branch just as the ice broke.

  Chapter 9

  “Oh, dear! What a horrid thing to have happened!” The Duchess of Roxburghe shook her head, her red wig clashing with her purple gown. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt, Your Highness, leaping and not knowing if you’d make it or not.”

  “I knew I’d make it,” Alexandra said softly. She knew because Kintore had been there. But he’s not here now, her aching heart reminded her.

  One of the duchess’s six pugs was curled up on the settee beside Alexandra, and she scratched his head, watching as his eyes half closed in bliss.

  She didn’t remember much after the breathtaking pain of being enveloped in the icy water, except being wrapped in Kintore’s coat as they rode wildly though the woods. She’d been frozen through and through, her teeth chattering so hard that they still ached today.

  “You are so calm and it happened only yesterday!” Lady Charlotte sat in a heavily cushioned seat across from the duchess, her knitting needles flying as she shivered dramatically. “I’ll have chills for weeks just hearing about it. You could have died from the cold.”

  “Or drowned,” the duchess added.

  “Or bled to death, if you’d bashed your head on a rock underwater.”

  Alexandra stared at Lady Charlotte, who smiled sweetly and said, “But instead, here you are, hale and hearty.”

  “I’m very thankful to be alive. If the earl hadn’t been there . . .” Alexandra shook her head.

  “He was right to bring you here and not back to that inn,” Lady Charlotte added.

  “Yes, especially since we have a physician right here on the premises,” the duchess said.

  “Dr. MacLeod is very good,” Lady Charlotte added. “He knew just what to do to keep you from getting an inflammation of the lungs.”

  The duchess’s rings flashed in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows as she patted the pug snoring in her lap. “Dr. MacLeod said you were only to be allowed downstairs for a few hours today.”

  “Yes,” Lady Charlotte agreed, tugging more yarn from the skein resting by her feet. “He said you’ll be weak for a few days and must get lots of rest.”

  “And hot tea,” her grace added. “Oh, dear, I forgot that. Shall I ring for some now?”

  “No, no, thank you.” Alexandra fiddled with the fringe on the blanket. “I—I don’t suppose Lord Kintore left a note? I wished to give him my thanks in person.”

  Lady Charlotte and the duchess exchanged glances.

  “Sadly,” her grace said, “he left as soon as the physician assured him you were safe.”

  “Without a word?”

  Silence met her question.

  “Perhaps he had an appointment,” Lady Charlotte offered hopefully. “He seemed very determined to get somewhere.”

  Alexandra’s eyes filled with tears. She bent over the dog, hoping the duchess and Lady Charlotte didn’t see.

  The duchess patted Alexandra’s knee. “There, there, dear. Tell us all about it.”

  “Yes, do,” Lady Charlotte said. “Perhaps it’s somet
hing we can help with. Her grace is very talented at helping people.”

  “There’s nothing to say. I just hoped . . .” She sighed. “I only met Lord Kintore a few days ago, but— Have you ever just known that someone was for you? And then the more you talk to them, the more certain you are?” Her voice wobbled and she cursed that she was still so weak from her accident.

  “Love at first sight,” the duchess announced.

  “A classic case,” Lady Charlotte agreed. “Continue, my dear. How did you meet him?”

  “We were trapped in the inn during a snowstorm.”

  “That’s so romantic!” Lady Charlotte sighed wistfully.

  “So one would think, but Lord Kintore didn’t. He . . . is interested in me, and I think he cares for me a great deal, but he is determined not to marry.”

  “Never?” Lady Charlotte’s knitting needles paused in mid-loop.

  “Never.”

  “Humph.” The duchess absently scratched her pug behind the ears. “He said as much to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you tell him how you felt?”

  “Yes. But it—” She cleared her throat, which had tightened. “It didn’t make any difference. I watched him ride away. I went for my walk then, and that’s when I fell.”

  The duchess pursed her lips as if she were thinking this through. “You say he rode away? Then how was it that he was nearby when you fell?”

  “My guard went to fetch him to find out what path I might be on. I had gone to see Keith Manor and Kintore knew I wished to see it.”

  “Ah, Kintore’s estate. He doesn’t visit it often.” There was censure in the duchess’s voice.

  “He’d warned me that it was dangerous to walk the path in the snow, but I thought he was merely being silly.”

  “I daresay he said that because of what happened to his sister.” Lady Charlotte shook out a tangled bit of yarn. “Poor man. He was never the same after Lady Jane died.”

  “How did she die?” The words were out before Alexandra could keep them in.

  The duchess said, “Lady Jane was out riding with Kintore on a snowy day, much like yesterday, and her horse slipped on an icy patch and they fell. She had fallen behind the earl, so he didn’t see the accident. Kintore heard her yell, but he thought she was teasing and continued on.”

  “Teasing?”

  “Lady Jane was quite young at the time, barely fifteen, and was a horrible hoyden.”

  “Their father raised them and he was very permissive with them, especially Jane.” Lady Charlotte’s knitting needles never paused. “Which was a pity, for while Kintore is a deliberate sort, Jane was not.”

  “She was very high-spirited,” her grace agreed, “and was forever pulling pranks upon people. She led her brother on a merry dance.”

  “She painted all of our sheep red one year.” Lady Charlotte frowned. “Which drastically cut the price we got for the wool.”

  “And she poured a bucket of water on the reverend when he came to visit.”

  “Twice,” Lady Charlotte said, tsking.

  “So it’s no wonder that when she fell and yelled for help—”

  “Which she’d done before,” Lady Charlotte added. “Many times.”

  “It wasn’t surprising that Kintore thought that she was merely teasing him yet again,” the duchess continued. “He didn’t go to see what had happened until he reached the house, and she didn’t arrive. Then he went directly back, but it was too late.”

  Lady Charlotte sighed. “He’s been a wandering soul ever since.”

  “Although . . . he was quite prompt in coming to your rescue.” The duchess stared straight ahead, her eyes unfocused. “Hmmm. I wonder if . . .”

  Alexandra waited, but the duchess stayed silent.

  Lady Charlotte leaned forward and whispered, “That is a very good sign. Something has occurred to her.”

  “Something that will help my situation?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “That’s it!” The duchess jumped to her feet, grabbed the bell pull that hung by the marble mantel, and gave it a solid yank, then she crossed to a small secretary in the corner of the room. The dogs scrambled behind her, watching as she sat down, opened an inkpot, and began scribbling a note.

  Lady Charlotte smiled benignly. “I don’t know what she’s planning, but I’m certain it will work.”

  “To do what?”

  “Why, secure your happiness, of course. Her grace’s schemes always work.” Lady Charlotte pursed her lips. “Most of the time, anyway.”

  A moment later the door opened and the butler entered, the pugs yapping wildly as they ran to meet him.

  He patted them each and then came to bow before the duchess. “Ye called, yer grace?”

  “Yes, MacDougal. I wish to send this note. It must be delivered today.”

  The butler bowed and took the note away, and the duchess returned to her seat, looking Alexandra up and down. “Hmmm. While we’re waiting, perhaps you wouldn’t mind letting my dresser fix your hair?”

  Alexandra put a hand to her hair, which was in its usual bun. “My hair is fine. I just—”

  “It’s no good fighting.” Lady Charlotte put away her knitting. “You’ll just prolong it. Her Grace always gets what she wants.”

  There was a militant look in the duchess’s eyes that made Alexandra gulp. “Yes, but—”

  “And perhaps a little rouge, too,” her grace said, tapping a finger against her chin. “Charlotte, what do you think?”

  “Definitely rouge, and perhaps a shawl that highlights the color of her eyes.”

  Alexandra opened her mouth to argue, but a warning look from Lady Charlotte made her think better of it. If they had her happiness in mind, she was willing to accept all the help she could get. “Thank you, Your Grace. Is there anything else you wish me to do?”

  After tea, the duchess and Lady Charlotte had ordered the footmen to move one of the lounges in front of the large windows, so that Alexandra could watch the last of the snow disappear. They’d made quite a fuss over her, draping her in a patterned silk shawl that Lady Charlotte vowed made her eyes look even bluer, then they admonished her to rest so that the shadows under her eyes would disappear.

  While they were arguing about her gown, the butler entered the salon.

  He bowed. “Yer grace, ye wished me to tell ye when the e—”

  “Oh, yes, yes. Charlotte, that’s the package I was telling you would arrive.”

  “A package? Why, you never said anything to me about—”

  Her grace jerked her head toward Alexandra and then back to the door.

  “Oh! Yes, yes. We must go at once.” Lady Charlotte stepped back to look Alexandra over from head to toe before giving a satisfied nod. “Off we go!” She bent and kissed Alexandra. “You stay here and have a rest.”

  “Yes,” her grace said, already walking toward the door. “Take all the time you want, Your Highness. We’ll see you at dinner.”

  They left, the pugs running in circles around them. It was a relief when the door finally closed and she was alone. Good God, they’re exhausting. I just want to—

  The door flung open, and she turned to find Kintore standing in the doorway. He gave a muffled curse and strode forward.

  MacDougal hurried after the earl. “Yer Highness! The earl is here t’ see ye, bu’ he willna wait fer me to announce him nor—”

  “She knows me.” Kintore stood at the foot of her chaise. “You may leave us.”

  “It wouldn’t be proper, me lord. I’ve been raised to make certain tha’ young ladies dinna find themselves alone wit—”

  Lady Charlotte stuck her head in the room. “ MacDougal! Her grace needs you.”

  “Bu’ I dinna wish to leave her highness wit’oot a chaperone—”

  “We’ll let Randolph chaperone.” Lady Charlotte disappeared and then came back carrying a very fat, graying pug. She crossed the room and plopped it beside Alexandra. “There. Whatever you do, do not
move him off the chaise. Come, MacDougal, her grace needs you now and you know how she gets when things don’t happen in a timely fashion.”

  The butler gave the dog an incredulous look before he made his bows and left, Lady Charlotte herding him from the room.

  The second the door closed, Kintore whirled to face her. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know! I was in disbelief, although I should have expected—we used no protection, damn my drunken habits for I’ve a French condom and I could have—” He caught her gaze and flushed. “Well, I won’t drink anymore, not even a little. We must be healthy and think about the—” He broke off and paced about the room, his movements jerky and unlike him. “It’s almost too much to take in.”

  “Kintore, what are you talking about?”

  He laughed and came and sat on the edge of the settee.

  The gray-haired pug growled.

  Kintore picked it up and placed it on the floor, where it waddled to the fireplace, circled three times, and then plopped onto the rug with a heavy sigh.

  She chuckled. “Some chaperone you are.”

  “My love, it’s far too late for us to have a chaperone.” He captured her hands and pressed his lips to each of her wrists in turn. “I am so— Good God, I didn’t know what to say, but—” He gave a shaky laugh. “Alexandra, I have been such a fool. At Keith Manor I was sitting there going through the papers with my man of business, all the while thinking about you. Your hair and your laugh and your smile and— Oh God, I’m so totally and completely lost in you. Then when I received her grace’s note, and I learned the truth and that you wished to call the baby Jane if it were a girl—”

  “Wait, wait! The note from the duchess said I was carrying a child?”

  “Yes. You didn’t wish her to tell me?”

  “Good God, Kintore, how could anyone know if I were with child or not? It’s only been a few days.”

  He blinked. “But the duchess said—”

  “I don’t care what she said; no one could know.”

  “Bloody hell. I got the note and I didn’t think, I just—” He raked a hand through his hair. “You’re right, of course.” His shoulders sank.