by Shana Galen
“Lucien! Behind you!” Cass yelled.
Lucien rolled just in time, and the pistol ball hit the ground where he had been a moment before. He grabbed the man’s ankles and brought him down, but now the other, injured assassin had gained his feet. He lumbered toward Lucien, hauled him up by the neck, and lifted him off the ground.
“No!” Cass screamed. “He’s choking him!”
Another arrow whizzed from the coach, but it hit the third assassin, preventing him from joining his comrades attacking the prince.
“Shoot him!” the princess cried.
“I can’t get a shot! Bloody hell!”
Lucien’s body looked like that of a rag doll in the large assassin’s bloody hands. Lucien clawed and fought, his movements erratic. Any shot the duke fired at the assassin might also hit Lucien.
Lucien didn’t have time to wait until the assassin moved into the line of fire. Cass was not about to allow him to die on Christmas Day, there in the middle of London. She had no weapon, but that didn’t seem to matter. She crawled out from under the coach and rushed toward the assassin holding Lucien. With a shriek, she jumped onto his back.
“Lady Ashbrooke! No!” the duchess called.
It was too late. She couldn’t turn back now.
The assassin tried to shake her off. She slid down his back, but before she could fall off, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. He staggered, releasing Lucien.
The other assassin promptly swung at the prince, and Cass only knew the blow landed because she heard the thud. The assassin shook her violently, but she locked her hands and closed her eyes. Wetness dribbled over her wrists, and she realized it was the blood from the arrow wound.
More thuds. Another pistol shot. A man—or was it a woman?—yelped. Cass screeched too, squeezing with everything she had. The assassin stumbled to his knees. She felt the arrow whoosh past her and heard the thunk as it made contact.
And then Lucien was calling her name. “Cassandra! Let go. I have him. Let go. Cassandra!”
She let go, sliding to the ground.
Lucien raised a boot and kicked the assassin, and he fell beside her. His eyes met hers briefly before they rolled back and closed.
For a long moment, all she heard was her own panting breaths. And then she was in Lucien’s arms, her face pressed against his chest. She heard the solid beat of his heart, and nothing else mattered.
***
“Leannan. My love.” Lucien cradled Cassandra. “What the devil were you thinking?”
He’d almost lost her. Twice. He knew his sister was absolutely—what was the English word? Daft?—but she was skilled with a bow and arrow and could defend herself. Cassandra had no such skills, which made her efforts to save him that much more meaningful.
She’d risked her life for him.
And he had been ready to leave her because he had no kingdom. What did such things matter? He’d wanted to keep her safe, but the assassins had found them anyway. Together they’d defeated the enemy.
He looked up from where his cheek was pressed against her hair, assessing the bodies strewn around them. Five men lay dead or wounded. Vivienne had an arrow pointed at one, and her duke trained a pistol on another. The two beside him were not moving, and the last looked dead or dying from his wounds.
“He was choking you,” Cassandra said. “I had to do something.”
Lucien realized she was answering his question.
“You risked your life.” That was more than obvious, but he still couldn’t quite believe it.
“So did you,” she said, her tone full of accusation. She looked up at him. At some point, her spectacles had fallen off, and her blue eyes looked so naked and vulnerable without them. “I couldn’t let him kill you. I told you. I love you.”
“Leannan. Don’t you know by now that I love you too? I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. I was afraid of this”—he waved a hand—“I was afraid I’d lose you.”
“The risk is worth the gain,” she said.
“You are a wise woman, Lady Ashbrooke, and you were right.”
“About?”
“I am an idiot.”
She laughed, a tear falling on one pink cheek. “Yes, you are.”
“Will you have me anyway?”
She blinked, looking at him long and hard. “Do you mean...”
“Will you be my princess? You’d be a princess of a lost kingdom, but that’s all I have to offer.”
“If I have you, Lucien, that’s all I need.”
***
Nothing could ruin Christmas night for Cass. Not Effie’s declaration that her brother’s will stipulated she was to have the town house if Cass remarried. Not the throbbing pain in her arms from gripping that assassin so tightly. Not the hours of questioning they’d endured from Bow Street, who had taken the assassins into custody.
Lucien had his papers and the contents of the vault his mother had entrusted to the bank. The bank manager had tried to protest, tried to insinuate Lucien was an impostor, but the duke had said something to the man in low tones, and he hadn’t uttered another word after that.
Now she and Lucien sat in her bedroom with the contents of the vault laid on the bed before them. A large purse held thousands in pounds, and there were other accounts as well. Lucien had access to all of them and was a very rich man. Perhaps not as rich as he would have been if he’d been king of Glynaven, but rich nonetheless.
Several miniatures had also been included, paintings of all his brothers and sisters and his mother and father. Lucien had looked at them for a long time before putting them down. “I will share these with Vivienne,” he’d said solemnly.
Other treasures abounded, including jewels and priceless heirlooms. Lucien had barely glanced at them, but Cassandra was a bit awestruck at the amount of glitter on her coverlet.
“This is the last of it,” Lucien said, indicating a small wooden box with an intricately carved pattern of ivy on the sides and top.
“What do you think is inside?”
“I have no idea.”
He opened it, unclasping the latch quietly and raising the lid. He stared down at it for a moment, then smiled.
Cass did not have the patience to wait. “Well?”
“Bits of lace from her coronation dress and her favorite jeweled combs. I will give those to Vivienne. And then there is this smaller box. This is for you.”
He held it up, a small box covered in green satin with gold braid.
“For me? I didn’t know your mother.”
“But she knew one day I would find you.” He removed the top of the box, and inside shone a ring with a large oval emerald set in gold, the gem surrounded by glittering diamonds.
“Oh.” That was all she could think to say.
“Come here,” Lucien said quietly.
She was already right beside him, but she moved close enough to where he sat on the bed so her knees brushed his.
He lifted her hand and slid the ring on her finger. He stared at it for a long time, then looked up at her. “It fits perfectly.”
She tilted the ring so it caught the light. It was impossibly beautiful. “I can’t take this. You should give it to Vivienne.”
Lucien made a shushing sound. “She will say it should go to my wife. You are my bride-to-be, are you not?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Then it goes to you, Princess Cassandra. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas. The very happiest.” She lifted her aching arms and wrapped them around him, kissing him with peace and joy and, most of all, love.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Abby Saul and Joanna MacKenzie for their work compiling this duet. And I owe much appreciation to Kim Killion for all her work on this cover and the many others she’s done for me.
Thank you to Susan Knight and the Shananigans for their help with the title of A Prince in Her Stocking. Thank you to my wonderful readers for their suggestion of Waiting fo
r a Duke Like You as a title.
And thanks to Grace Burrowes, Carolyn Jewel, and Miranda Neville for all your suggestions and inspiration on both these novellas.
About Shana Galen
Shana Galen is the bestselling author of passionate Regency romps, including the RT Reviewers’ Choice The Making of a Gentleman. Kirkus says of her books, “The road to happily-ever-after is intense, conflicted, suspenseful and fun,” and RT Book Reviews calls her books “lighthearted yet poignant, humorous yet touching.” She taught English at the middle and high school level off and on for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston's inner city. Now she writes full time. She's happily married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making.
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Books by Shana Galen
In the mood for more Christmas love? Check out All I Want for Christmas is Blue and The Spy Beneath the Mistletoe!
Dive into one of Shana’s many series...
The Covent Garden Cubs series begins with Earls Just Want to Have Fun.
The Lord and Lady Spy series begins with Lord and Lady Spy.
The Jewels of the Ton series begins with When You Give a Duke a Diamond.
The Sons of the Revolution series begins with The Making of a Duchess.
The Misadventures in Matrimony series begins with No Man’s Bride.
The Regency Spies series begins with While You Were Spying.