To Charm a Prince

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To Charm a Prince Page 17

by Grasso, Patricia;


  “I love you, Aunt Roxie.”

  “And I love you, my darling.”

  Samantha managed a wan smile. “I do feel better since eating the bread. Why were you carrying a piece of bread in your pocket?”

  Her aunt breezed out of the chamber, saying, “I had a feeling this would happen.”

  Her dream was coming true, Samantha thought, but not precisely as she had envisioned. Would the prince despise her for trapping him into marriage? Was there even a slight chance that he could grow to love her?

  Stop your damn pretending, Samantha told herself. Accept reality.

  The prince would never love her. What man could love a less-than-perfect woman? She was defective merchandise, but she would love Grant and Drake and the new babe. Best of all, they would love her.

  * * *

  Downstairs, Rudolf fixed his gaze on the study door and wondered out loud again, “What is delaying Her Grace?”

  The door crashed open suddenly, as if in answer to the prince’s thoughts. The Duchess of Inverary walked into the room, being certain to close the door lest the prince try to flee.

  Out of habit, the three men stood at her entrance, but the duchess gestured them to sit. Wearing a feline smile, she paused there for a long moment.

  “Magnus, I hope His Highness is prepared to do the honorable thing.”

  The Duke of lnverary nodded at his wife. Roxie turned her attention on the prince, saying, “Congratulations, Your Highness.”

  Rudolf gave her a grim look. Congratulations were only in order when the groom desired the union. He watched, puzzled, as the duchess touched almost all of her fingers as if counting.

  Roxie gave him a bright smile. “Come November, my niece will be making you a father again.”

  Rudolf bolted out of his chair. “That is impossible.”

  “Did you have intimate relations with my niece?” the duchess asked.

  Rudolf had the good grace to flush. “Yes, I did.”

  “Was my niece a virgin the first time she participated with you in these activities?”

  Rudolf could feel the muscle in his right cheek begin to twitch. “Yes, she was.”

  “Did my niece engage in intimate activities with any other man during that time?”

  “Of course not.” His left cheek muscle twitched.

  “That makes you the father of the child she is carrying,” the duchess informed him.

  “Samantha would have told me,” he said.

  The duchess laughed and shook her head, saying, “She didn’t know.”

  Duke Magnus smiled as did his son. Rudolf gave them an unamused look.

  “How could she not know?” Rudolf asked. This whole conversation was ridiculous.

  “I blush to speak so intimately with you,” Roxie said, with no blush staining her cheeks. “Despite her deflowering, Samantha is an innocent. She admitted missing her menses, and I found her draped over the chamber pot.”

  “Samantha is ill?” Rudolf said, his concern apparent. “I must go to her.”

  This response elicited outright laughter from the duke and the marquess. The duchess blocked his way. “Sit down, Your Highness. Your panic is tedious. My niece will be joining us shortly.”

  While this conversation was taking place inside the study, Samantha stood outside the duke’s study. She had never felt more miserable in her life. The prince had told her many times that he could not offer her marriage at this time, and now her pregnancy was forcing him to marry. He would never forgive her for that.

  Enticing the prince to love her would be impossible. Even her aunt’s expertise with men would do her no good. No woman, especially an unwanted cripple, could compete with the cherished memory of a beloved first wife. The woman was almost a saint to the prince. What other reason could there be for his reluctance to marry again?

  If the prince wanted to dedicate his life to his lost wife, then she would not force him to marry her. Many women bore children out of wedlock. She was a cripple with a tarnished reputation, a social pariah. Why not add bearing a child out of wedlock to her flaws? There was no reason both of them should be unhappy.

  Determined to set matters straight, Samantha squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a notch. She raised her hand to knock on the door but lost her nerve.

  The door opened a crack and she heard Rudolf say, “I’m going to see what is keeping—Oh, there you are. Why are you standing there? Come inside.”

  Rudolf opened the door wider and stepped aside to let her pass. Blushing, she dropped her gaze and walked into the study with the speed of a woman on her way to the gallows.

  “How do you feel?” Rudolf asked, escorting her to the chair in front of the duke’s desk.

  “Fine.” Samantha refused to meet his gaze. He was being magnanimously kind to her in the face of extreme provocation.

  Duke Magnus spoke, “Samantha, dear, these are the plans we—”

  “I need to speak before you continue,” she said.

  Samantha heard the tremor in her voice and could have kicked herself. She had wanted to be more forceful. Samantha flicked a quick glance at the prince, who stood beside her chair. His towering over her was intimidating. Then she turned to the duke, her legal guardian.

  Her words came out in a rush, “I refuse to marry His Highness.”

  Everyone seemed stunned into silence. Except the prince.

  “You have no choice,” Rudolf said, his voice cold. “If you did not want to marry, you should have thought of the consequences before you—” He left the rest of his thought unspoken.

  Samantha heard her aunt gasp, the marquess cough, and the duke begin to growl. Her eyes burned with the humiliation she felt. How could the prince insult her? She was sacrificing herself for his happiness.

  Usually dormant due to her limp, Douglas pride swelled in her breast, and Samantha felt a rush of anger surge through her. She stood and faced the prince.

  “If you recall, Your Highness,” Samantha said, her blue gaze glittering with anger, “I wanted separate chambers.”

  “You should have insisted.”

  “I did insist.” Her voice rose with self-righteous anger. “You refused to listen.”

  “Samantha, darling—” her aunt began.

  “Be quiet,” Samantha snapped, shocking everyone in the room, even herself. She had never spoken rudely to anyone.

  Duke Magnus tried to reason with her. “Samantha, dear—”

  “You be quiet, too,” she told him, less forcefully due to his rank.

  She whirled around and narrowed her gaze on her brother-in-law. The marquess held his hands up in a gesture that he would not enter the fray.

  When she turned to the prince, he was smiling at her. What was there to smile about?

  “Your Highness, you do not need to marry me.”

  “Do not be ridiculous,” Rudolf said, losing his smile. “You are fit for nothing and cannot live on the generosity of others indefinitely.”

  “I am not ridiculous.” Samantha took a deep breath and struggled against tears. Lord, but the prince was making her queasy. In a calmer voice, she announced, “I will live at the cottage with Grant and Drake.”

  “Sit down,” Rudolf ordered.

  Accustomed to obeying orders, Samantha plopped down in the chair.

  “I have always been careful about scattering my seed,” Rudolf said, his voice tight. “No child of mine will be raised a bastard. Do you understand?”

  Samantha had never seen the prince so angry. Refusing to surrender to her fright, she argued, “What difference does it make if the babe is born a bastard? I will love it anyway.”

  Rudolf crouched beside her chair. “You have no idea what being a bastard means,” he told her. “You would be condemning the child to a life of unimaginable anguish.”

  “I don’t want to force you to marry me.”

  “I am not a man who can be forced into anything,” Rudolf said. “I want to give my child my name.”

  “But you do
n’t love me,” Samantha whispered. How could she survive a marriage to the man she loved if he didn’t love her.

  “Love has nothing to do with marriage,” Rudolf told her. “You will understand when you are older.” Taking her hand in his, he said, “I cannot live in good conscience if my child is born a bastard. Please, Princess, marry me.”

  Samantha couldn’t bear his distress at the thought of fathering a bastard. She acquiesced with a nod of her head.

  “Well done, Your Highness,” Aunt Roxie said. “My niece gave me a fright.”

  Samantha wasn’t ready to submit just yet. She raised her gaze to his, saying, “I can live without love if you can live without affairs.”

  She heard her aunt moaning, “Oh, dear God, she’ll be the death of me yet. Magnus, do something.”

  “I do not understand,” Rudolf was saying to her.

  “I want you to promise never to indulge in an affair.”

  Rudolf snapped his brows together. “My wife will not dictate to me.”

  “I have no wish to dictate to you,” Samantha said. “I want your word of honor never to engage in affairs.”

  “Your Highness, young women like my niece are incredibly idealistic about matters of the heart,” Aunt Roxie said, trying to explain. “She doesn’t know what she is asking.”

  Samantha looked at her aunt. “I understand perfectly.”

  “I said I never scatter my seed,” Rudolf said. “Why do you believe I would engage in affairs? Your suspicion insults me.”

  “You scattered your seed on our journey to Scotland,” Samantha reminded him.

  The marquess burst out laughing. Samantha snapped her head around to glare at him. His laughter ceased abruptly.

  Rudolf stared at her for a long moment. Finally, he gave her a curt nod.

  “You need to say the words,” Samantha told him, little realizing how much she was embarrassing him until she noticed his cheek muscles twitching.

  “I promise not to engage in affairs,” Rudolf said in a choked voice.

  Watching her relax back in the chair, Rudolf bristled at the fact that she had embarrassed him in front of the others. The little witch thought she had the upper hand. He needed to exert authority now so there would be no misunderstanding later about who ruled in his household.

  “Now we can get down to specifics,” Aunt Roxie said with a relieved laugh.

  “I have several demands of my own,” Rudolf said.

  “Oh, crap,” Roxie muttered.

  Samantha looked at him expectantly. A faint smile touched her lips.

  “As my wife, you will obey me in all matters and never question my judgment or authority,” Rudolf told her, pleased to see a slight furrowing in her brow.

  “Can I breathe?” Samantha asked.

  “I do not find your sarcasm amusing.” Rudolf let her digest that and then added for good measure, “You will not leave the house without escort unless I have given my permission.”

  Samantha looked surprised. “You don’t trust me?”

  “And you will not engage in sexual affairs,” Rudolf said, ignoring her question.

  Samantha gasped, and her complexion paled. He knew he had shocked her. Slowly, she rose from the chair and faced him. “Your Highness, do you actually believe I have so little virtue that I would—I would—do what you said?”

  His little bride-to-be wasn’t as smart as she thought, Rudolf decided. She was no match for his experience, and he went in for the kill.

  “You exhibited little virtue on our journey to Scotland.” Rudolf knew he’d stunned her into silence. “Be a good girl and sit in silence while His Grace and I arrange the specifics.”

  Samantha dropped into her chair and clamped her lips together. Obviously fuming, she folded her hands on her lap and stared at them.

  If she was any angrier, Rudolf thought, steam would be coming out of her ears. “You show remarkable promise.”

  Rudolf sat down in the chair beside hers and looked at the duke, who was grinning at him. “Your Grace, shall we get down to specifics?”

  Duke Magnus turned to Samantha. “The prince will be in residence with us because his brother has moved into Montague House.”

  “Zara will be brought here and guarded,” Rudolf told her. “I hope you will become acquainted with her.”

  Samantha recalled the pretty, blond five-year-old and smiled at the prince. Grant and Drake would love his daughter. “I will look after her,” she said, relishing the job. “I know you must miss her, but do you think remaining at Sark Island would be safer?”

  The duke began to explain, “His daughter isn’t actually—”

  Rudolf gestured the duke for silence and then turned to Samantha, admonishing her, “Less than five minutes ago, you agreed never to question my judgment. Since I have decided Zara will reside here, I judge her safer here.”

  “I only asked,” Samantha said.

  “To ask is to question,” Rudolf informed her. “You gave me your word never to question.”

  Samantha couldn’t remember why she had fallen in love with him. The charming prince of her dreams had vanished. In his place was an autocratic ogre.

  “Do what you want,” she said.

  “I intend to do that,” Rudolf replied. “Preferably, without being questioned.”

  Samantha said nothing, her face flaming with embarrassment at the public rebuke. She doubted she could survive the next fifty years with this stranger. Remaining a spinster and becoming a social pariah seemed more appealing with each passing moment.

  Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “The wedding is planned for April the twenty-third. Since it’s Saint George’s Day, I can guarantee your husband will never forget your anniversary.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if I would like to forget it,” Samantha muttered.

  “You’ll wear your mother’s wedding gown,” Aunt Roxie said with forced gaiety. “Isn’t that exciting?”

  Samantha looked at the prince and asked, “Am I excited or not?”

  She heard the marquess chuckle. Her gaze was fixed on the prince’s cheek muscle, which had begun to twitch again.

  “I think one thousand pounds a month for pin money is adequate,” the duke was saying to the prince.

  “I don’t need money,” Samantha told them.

  “You need it if I say you do,” Rudolf told her.

  “I can have the betrothal contract ready for signing tonight,” Duke Magnus said.

  Rudolf nodded. “Once Karl finishes unloading the coach, I will purchase a betrothal ring.”

  Suddenly, a ring seemed so final to Samantha. “I don’t need a ring,” she said.

  “You need one if I say you do,” Rudolf told her.

  Duke Magnus stood then, signaling the interview ended. He offered his hand to the prince, who hesitated for a fraction of a second and then accepted it.

  Watching them, Samantha suffered the feeling that something more than her betrothal had passed between the two men. That was impossible, though. They barely knew each other.

  The five of them left the duke’s study and walked downstairs. Samantha intended to get herself a cup of tea, check on the boys, and then hide in her chamber for the remainder of the day.

  Tall and well-built and blond, Alexander Emerson was entering the mansion as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Spying them, he crossed the foyer to confront the prince.

  “You no-good, foreign—”

  As the two men faced each other, Samantha knew she needed to prevent violence. She stepped between them, and, feigning a swoon, Samantha dropped to the floor. Her cheekbone smashed into the marble floor, and she lay there stunned.

  “Oh, my God,” Roxie screamed.

  Rudolf knelt on the floor beside her and held her in his arms. He looked at the stunned majordomo. “Fetch a cold, wet cloth.”

  “I will be fine,” Samantha said, opening her eyes. Her face hurt, the pain traveling from cheekbone to temple.

  Rudolf dropped his hand to her
midsection. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.”

  Tinker, the majordomo, returned then and handed the prince the cloth. Rudolf folded it and pressed it on Samantha’s face.

  “Can you stand?” he asked. When she nodded, he helped her up but kept his arm around her.

  “Perhaps Alexander should return later,” the duke said.

  “This matter needs to be settled now,” Aunt Roxie disagreed. She looked at the prince and said, “Your Highness, see to your man unloading the coach.” To Samantha, “Take Alex into the dining room and explain the situation.”

  The last thing Samantha wanted to do was tell Alexander Emerson that she would not be marrying him. She dreaded admitting that she was already pregnant with the prince’s child. Alexander didn’t love her, but he would be hurt. She had depleted her courage and inner strength on the prince.

  “My face throbs,” Samantha hedged, “and I’m very tired.”

  Her aunt narrowed her gaze on her. “You will feel worse if you do not do as I say.”

  Rudolf tightened his grip on her. “My intended wife will not speak to her former betrothed unless I am present.”

  Aunt Roxie inclined her head. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  Samantha slipped out of the prince’s grasp and walked toward the dining room. Behind her walked Alexander, Rudolf, and the marquess.

  “Are you coming, too?” she asked her brother-in-law.

  “You don’t want to be alone with these two,” Robert told her.

  The marquess closed the dining room doors, and the four of them sat at the forty-foot table.

  Rudolf and Samantha sat on one side. Alexander and Robert sat opposite them.

  Samantha wondered how to start. She had never thought she would have any husband, and now she had two men fighting over her. She didn’t like the feeling at all. How did the acclaimed beauties handle all the male attention?

  “Alexander is waiting,” Robert said.

  Samantha nodded. She raised her gaze to her former betrothed.

  “His Highness did not abduct me,” Samantha said. “We were speaking in the gazebo and heard a cry for help coming from the woodland. When we investigated, some men—agents of His Highness’ brother—abducted us and took us to London. We managed to escape.

 

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