Some Proposal (I'm No Princess Book 4)

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Some Proposal (I'm No Princess Book 4) Page 1

by Elizabeth Stevens




  I’m No Princess: Part Four

  Some Proposal

  ALSO BY ELIZABETH STEVENS

  unvamped

  Netherfield Prep

  the Trouble with Hate is…

  Accidentally Perfect

  Keeping Up Appearances

  Love, Lust & Friendship

  No More Maybes Books

  No More Maybes

  Gray’s Blade

  I’m No Princess Novellas

  Now Presenting

  Lady in Training

  Three of a Kind

  I’m No Princess: Part Four

  Some Proposal

  Elizabeth Stevens

  Sleeping Dragon Books

  Some Proposal

  by Elizabeth Stevens

  Digital ISBN: 978-0648438137

  Cover art by: Izzie Duffield

  Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Stevens

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  Worldwide English Language Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To Diablo,

  you’re distracting, but not distracting enough.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  “No. I am literally boiling to death,” Jenn said and I rolled my eyes. “I’m literally melting.”

  “Not literally considering you’re sitting right in front of the screen,” I replied.

  “That is less hyperbolic than you might think, Anya,” Bea added.

  “It’s summer in Australia. Of course it’s hot,” I said as I continued shovelling the pasta Shelly had brought up for me.

  “It’s not hot, Tatiana. It’s actually death by boiling. Mum and Dad’s weather station says it’s forty-eight degrees in our backyard, Anya,” Jenn huffed, then cried more firmly, “Forty-eight!”

  I looked up at the laptop screen, paused with a mouthful of food. “Forty-eight?” I mumbled around my spaghetti.

  Jenn and Bea both nodded.

  “As in nearly fifty?” I knew Adelaide summer could get hot, but that was ridiculous. Suddenly, switching out a summer for another winter didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

  “That is how math works, yes,” Jenn said sarcastically. “Remind the class what the temperature was in your part of the world today.”

  “Uh…” I had seen the forecast on the weather at some point that day. “Nearly sixteen.”

  Jenn looked at me suspiciously. “I thought it was snowing?”

  I nodded, then realised my mistake. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s all in Fahrenheit here.” I had no idea what the Fahrenheit-Celsius conversion was, but I’d picked up what numbers meant cold and what meant colder.

  “What’s that in Celsius, then?” Jenn asked.

  “Minus nine,” Bea answered, looking at her phone screen as though she’d presumably just Googled it. Knowing her, she’d realised I’d been talking about Fahrenheit all along.

  “So that’s – what?” Jenn said, “like sixty degrees difference?”

  “Worse if you do Fahrenheit. Over a hundred.” Bea pushed her glasses up her nose.

  “Over a hundred?” I clarified. “How? What’s forty-eight in Fahrenheit?”

  “Like one-hundred-eighteen,” Bea replied, eyes back on her phone.

  “See, literal boiling,” Jenn said earnestly and I laughed.

  “Actually, water boils at–”

  “Don’t care,” Jenn interrupted Bea.

  It could be said that Jenn wasn’t particularly nice to Bea, always dismissing her and acting like nothing she said mattered. But the wry grin Bea gave me said more than words ever needed to. That was just Jenn, not interested in anything vaguely academic or that would distract her from her current focus. The only reason Bea seemed to be dismissed all the time was because she – as easily the smartest of us – didn’t feel the need to argue, whereas I did. Most days.

  I breathed out heavily. “Okay. It’s official. I’m never going home.”

  “What about for my wedding?” Jenn asked, crossing her arms and giving me a look like she dared me to say even then.

  “Fine. But neither of you are allowed to get married in summer,” I told them.

  “Deal,” Bea said unhesitatingly as Jenn said, “Okay. But same goes for you.”

  “We need not worry, as I shall be the old spinster aunt,” I replied dramatically.

  Jenn snorted as Bea asked, “What about those three dashing princes of yours?”

  I rolled my eyes and put my now empty bowl on the bed beside me. “I’m not marrying any of them.”

  “No.” Jenn gave us a wicked smirk. “If she can’t have the crown prince, she won’t have any of them.”

  “There is something quite decent about not marrying a guy when you’re in love with his older brother, Jenn,” Bea told her.

  “Decent schmecent. When a girl’s got a chance at being a princess, she takes it.”

  “I’ll let Nico know, shall I?”

  Jenn laughed. “Why not? I think I’d make a good princess.”

  Bea and I laughed as well.

  “My lady?”

  I looked up and saw Gerta and Shelly hovering.

  “That time again?” I asked and they nodded regrettably.

  “We’ll give you a moment to say goodbye,” Gerta smiled before they left again.

  “You need to go get princess-afied?” Jenn asked.

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “Is it the art gallery thing tonight?” Bea asked as she opened a chocolate in her lap.

  “Yeah. Dad’s set me up with some posh peer or something.”

  “Oh! What’s his name?” Jenn cried and her image wobbled alarmingly as she pulled her laptop onto her lap as Bea asked, “Why?” with a frown.

  I shrugged. “We thought it might be good to put some of these rumours to rest. Kostin has zero interest in me, Nico’s just flirty, and–”

  “Dmitri needs a good kick up the backside to realise his true love’s standing right in front of him.” Bea looked at the camera knowingly.

  Jenn gave a perfunctory nod. “Now, what’s this date’s name?”

  “Uh.” I scratched my leg. “A Lord Eric Baker, I believe.”

  “Is he hot?” Bea asked and I saw Jenn typing.

  I kicked my head towards Jenn’s image. “Give her two seconds and you’ll find out.” I pulled myself off my bed and put my bowl on my bedside table.

  I hadn’t told the girls that Dmitri and I had had sex. I hadn’t even told Lia. I wasn’t sure what saying it out loud might mean. I was all for this living-in-the-moment, have-him-for-as-long-as-I-could thing. But it felt a lot like sharing it would make it worse when it ended.

&nbs
p; Dmitri had woken me up before dawn the morning after Rex’s birthday party to say goodbye before sneaking back to his own room. He hadn’t said anything, but I’d let myself believe that he hadn’t wanted to leave as I’d kissed him goodnight – or morning – and then giggled when he realised he forgot his bow tie and he’d used that as an excuse for one more kiss.

  “Well, I’d do him,” Jenn proclaimed and I looked back to the laptop quickly.

  “That’s hardly a glowing review,” Bea told her. “You’d do most anyone.”

  I huffed a laugh because it was true. Jenn hadn’t had the chance to do most anyone, but if you asked her she’d tell you she would. “Send her the link. I’d best go.”

  “Love you!” the two girls yelled and I blew them a kiss with a rueful smirk before hanging up on them and closing the lid.

  “All sorted!” I called as I wandered over to the vanity table and plonked down.

  “Good chat, my lady?” Shelly asked.

  I nodded. “Very good,” I told them and tried not to let the weight of my busy thoughts show as they got to work.

  Dad had indeed set me up with this Eric Baker guy for an art gallery exhibition opening of Gallyr’s top artist. I had no idea how he’d set it up or the real why. But when we’d talked about it the day before I’d agreed it might take some pressure off my name in Crown Princess Watch.

  Did I feel totally conflicted about the fact I’d agreed to an arranged date the day after I’d slept with the crown prince? Hell yes. There was a very large part of me that wanted to say if I was going with anyone, it would be Dmitri. But everyone knew Amanda Schuller was likely to be the recipient of his great-grandmother’s ring so what was the point?

  Of course, I hadn’t found a time to talk to Dmitri about it. But he was the crown prince of Gallyr and he knew all about obligations. Eric was nothing more than an obligation. A very attractive obligation who I’d heard was on the more relaxed end of the peerage. But an obligation nonetheless.

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  The déjà vu was uncanny. I looked up, caught Gerta’s eye in the mirror, and realised that I was smiling like an idiot.

  Lia had almost caught me out the day before with the exact same words. And, like the day before, I had no intention of letting anyone know that I’d procured the unfortunate habit of grinning like an absolute fool every time I thought about Dmitri in any capacity. I wasn’t going to divulge that the mere thought of him made my chest flutter excitedly and my stomach do little backflips.

  So I cleared my throat and gave a slightly less blissed out smile. “Looking forward to getting out of the palace,” I answered.

  “With Lord Baker of all people,” Shelly said appreciatively.

  The palace was well and truly out of holiday mode now and I’d been given the choice of staying at the palace while Dad was there for work or going back to Genovich by myself. I’d chosen staying at the palace for no other reason than that I might have more opportunities to see Dmitri.

  So far not so good. We’d seen each other at meals and there’d been only a slight hint that our night together hadn’t been a total mistake or regret. But a slight hint was better than nothing and, compared to his statue impersonations, was pretty damned warm actually.

  “All right. Make up and dress, my lady,” Gerta said with a smile and I let them help me to finish getting ready while trying to take my mind off all things Dmitri because I was, in essence, going on a date.

  When I walked out of my door and said hello to Nikolai, I noticed that Neil was still outside Lia’s door. Which seemed odd. So I wandered down the hallway and let myself into her room after I’d knocked.

  “Hey,” Lia said with a short smile over her shoulder as she finished with her earring and slid her last shoe on.

  “I was sure it would take Hell longer to freeze over,” I remarked and she looked at me confused as one of her maids helped her into her jacket.

  “What?” she laughed.

  “I’m ready before you.”

  She smirked. “Yes. Well, Rupert got here earlier than I expected and I…”

  “Oh!” I cried. “I see.” I gave her a wink and held my elbow out for her.

  “Thank you,” Lia said to her maids, who curtsied to both of us, then took my arm and we headed out, followed as always at the palace by Neil and Nikolai.

  “So?” I started. “Things are going…well with Lord Barr?”

  “Rupert,” Lia replied and I heard the smile in her voice.

  “Him too.”

  Lia just managed to cover her snort behind a genteel cough. “Things are…” She waved her head as she searched for the right words.

  “You’re going to give it a hundred and ten percent?” I finished.

  She nodded. “Sure,” she said with that smile in her voice. “Let’s call it that.”

  “Most excellent.”

  I felt a spring in my step for her. I didn’t know what might or might not happen with Kostin and I wasn’t one to stick my nose in where it didn’t belong. There was a girl he thought he’d stuffed up with, but I’d had no indication to think that was Lia – as much as it would make things tie up in a nifty little, convenient bow. So if she was giving things with Rupert – giggle – a real go, then good for her.

  “Do Rupert and Lord Baker know each other?” I asked.

  “I assume they’ve met,” Lia answered slowly. “I don’t know how well they know each other.”

  “Speaking of.”

  “Hm?”

  “Do I need to ask you how well you know Rupert?”

  Lia flushed bright red and grinned and I decided not to stop teasing her as we continued down to the front entry hall.

  Chapter Two

  “There you two are,” I heard Dad’s voice as we came down the stairs and looked around. “Chalk and cheese as usual.” His words sounded slightly chastising, but his smile was nothing but humour.

  And he wasn’t wrong. Under her long, cream woollen coat, Lia was in her usual pastel, touch-longer-than-knee-length, swishy, satin and lace combination. Her make-up was soft and neutral, and her hair was in an elegant up-do with a chignon at the nape of her neck.

  Meanwhile, I was in a black, fitted, lace, just knee-length dress under a black coat that had a few too many useless buttons and buckles to probably be strictly appropriate. And my make-up was a little darker and smokier than I’d so far tried to get away with, and my up-do was slightly less elegant with a little bit of a punk mohawk thing going on up top.

  “You know, Anya,” Lia said with a smile and a squeeze of my arm. “Any excuse to push the boundaries.”

  “What?” I asked defensively. “I’m just adding my own style to the whole ladylike thing.”

  Dad laughed. “That you are kiddo. Now are you ready to meet Lord Baker?” he asked in that sarcastic way adults ask kids if they’re excited about something.

  “Does it matter?” I replied in the same tone.

  “Not really,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk and I giggled.

  “You know we’re in public right?” Lia hissed and only a short bark of a laugh echoed around the entry hall before I caught it.

  “Never change, girls,” was all Dad said as he steered us to a smaller drawing room. One of the staff opened the door and Dad entered with a rather grand, “Gentlemen!” and two men turned to face us.

  One was instantly recognisable as Lord Rupert Barr, obviously. He was wearing a very dashing dark grey suit under a very similarly coloured coat with a white shirt and dark maroon tie. His light brown hair was swept back in the generic style that seemed to be favoured among the younger peers in Gallyr and his eyes were glued to Lia, the smile on his face look as blissfully goofy as I’d caught on my own face too many times over the past couple of days.

  The other man was also instantly recognisable since I’d spent a lot of the hours since Dad had told me about him staring at a picture of him and wondering what he
was really like. Lord Eric Baker was an imposing specimen of man. And not in a bad way. He was by no means the most attractive guy I’d ever seen and, when you looked closely, his nose was a little crooked like he’d broken it – I imagined some great feat on a rugby field or something. But his dark blonde hair was worn a little longer than the current trend and it wasn’t quite so sleek. Under his black coat, he wore a dark navy suit with a black shirt, no tie, and the top button undone. He had a close-cropped beard and a mischievous twinkle in what, on closer inspection as Dad encouraged us into the room, turned out to be green eyes.

  If Rupert was classically handsome and Dmitri was sinful in whatever (or nothing) he wore, Eric Baker was like the rock star forced into the monkey suit. He had an air of it not quite being his usual attire, but he pulled it off magnificently well.

  Jenn would add a comment in here about how she’d pull that suit off him… vaguely ran through my head and I reminded myself I was not the sort of girl to sleep with one guy and then two nights later contemplate pulling off another man’s suit. Because that was not on. I wasn’t quite sure why it wasn’t on. But it wasn’t.

  “Your grace,” both of the men said with a short bow.

  Rupert looked like he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to rush over to Lia or if he should hang back and I bit my lip and looked down at the floor as I tried to stop my smile.

  “Lord Baker, may I introduce my daughters. Lady Malmont and Lady Tatiana,” Dad said.

  “Lady Malmont.”

  “Lord Baker, a pleasure,” Lia said dutifully and I looked up quickly, knowing it was my turn to say hello.

  Only problem was I was a little slow in letting go of my lip as I looked up and caught Eric’s eye. I watched the corner of his lips quirk up like we shared a joke and I decided I didn’t mind the look of him. He was a guy I could hang out with and get to know.

  So I took a step forward and inclined my head. “Lord Baker.”

 

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