He was engaged!
“She’s English, isn’t she?” Rose asked. “That’s why you are here and why you have been so vague about the reason for your travels.”
He nodded casually to confirm her suspicions, and she reminded herself that she, too, was engaged to another.
A wonderful man who adored her.
“There are many things you don’t understand, Rose,” he said. “All my life, I have been duty-bound to marry this woman, and when I met you, I certainly didn’t intend to fall in love. It just happened. I shouldn’t have let it, but it was beyond my control.”
Rose tried not to melt completely into his shocking admission of love and this long-awaited apology, for it was not as simple as all that.
“Nothing is beyond anyone’s control,” she argued. “I do not believe in such a thing. No one is a slave to their emotions. You should never have kissed me during the hunt at your father’s estate, or after dinner that night. You shouldn’t have shown me the secret passages that led to your rooms. I spent the night with you, Leopold, because I trusted you and thought you were going to propose.”
“I never took your virtue,” he reminded her.
“No, but you took my heart.” She was compelled all of a sudden to rise to her feet. “You shouldn’t have asked me to come here.”
He stood up, too, ignoring most of what she’d just said. “You took my heart as well.”
Oh God, did he have no pity? Did he not know this was torture? She was engaged to another man now, and he to another woman.
Yet despite the anger that was knotting up inside her, she relished those words upon his lips. You took my heart …
He had loved her. He truly had, but he had not been free.
Just as neither of them was free now.
“I came downstairs to put this behind me,” she explained. “Now I have done so, and I really must leave.”
Something wild flashed in his eyes. “But have you forgiven me?”
She hesitated. “If I say yes, will you promise never to speak of this again?”
He inclined his head, as if he were trying to work out an answer.
Why wouldn’t he just let it go?
As she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t seem to escape the memory of the mad love she once felt for him. She supposed it would always be a part of her, but life must go on. Eventually she would leave Petersbourg for Austria and become a married woman. When that day came, it was quite possible she would never lay eyes on Leopold Hunt again.
Which would, of course, be for the best.
“All right then,” she said at last. “All is forgiven. Fate had other plans for us, that is all. I appreciate that you have explained yourself. Please know that wherever life takes you, I will wish you well.”
She forced herself to hold out her hand.
He looked down at it for a long moment. There was a visible knot of tension in his brow, and Rose feared there would be more of this unbearable torture before he said good-bye.
At long last he took hold of her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it. Her whole body awakened with feverish sensation.
“I, too, will always wish you well.” His eyes lifted to meet hers, and she steeled herself against a powerful flood of emotion. The passion she once felt for this man was kicking beneath the surface of everything. She didn’t want to let go of his hand.
But she must, for it was done. He had apologized for his conduct. They were finished with each other now.
She gave a quick curtsy and turned to go. “Good evening.”
“Rose…”
She stopped at the door, but did not turn around.
“I will examine the dowager’s coach at eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said, “to determine if it is fit for travel. Will I see you then?”
“Yes, and thank you,” she said over her shoulder, while she prayed that the vehicle would be in good working order, for she wasn’t sure she could manage another day in this man’s presence, especially now that all was forgiven.
* * *
“It appears all is well,” Leopold said to the dowager the following morning as he knocked on the outside of the coach. “She’s as sturdy as a warship.”
“Oh, thank heavens!” the dowager replied.
Rose stood on the stone walk in the yard and tried to ignore the way the morning sun sparkled in Leopold’s eyes as he approached. “That is indeed good news,” she said. “We will not need to burden you any further, Lord Cavanaugh.”
“I assure you, Your Highness, it was no burden,” he said with a bow. “In fact, I am exceedingly pleased we had the opportunity to dine together last evening.”
He gave her that look, as if he were communicating far more than his words conveyed … as if they had a secret to share, which they most certainly did.
“It was a very pleasant evening,” she agreed, though she had not slept well the rest of the night, despite the prescribed dose of laudanum.
“Might I inquire about your injured wrist?” he asked, looking down at her gloved hand.
She raised it to show him. “It’s much better, thank you.”
They stood facing each other on the stone walk while a blackbird chirped in the eaves. Rose breathed in the fresh, cool scent of the earth, damp with wetness from the heavy rains the night before, while her former lover regarded her with a rather intense look of desire.
She found herself reveling in the pleasure of his nearness and wondered if it would ever pass. Perhaps not. He was her first love, after all. She couldn’t simply erase him.
“Well!” the dowager called out. “Shall we be on our way?”
Lord Cavanaugh turned. “Indeed, madam. Allow me to assist you.” He moved to help her step into the coach, while Rose managed with some difficulty to put one foot in front of the other, knowing she would be next to take his hand. When she reached the vehicle, he turned to face her.
“You will be sailing back to Petersbourg soon?” she asked.
“Yes, in the next day or so, otherwise I would pay a call to your brothers at St. James’s. Do give them my regards.”
“I will, and I wish you a safe voyage.”
“And you as well, upon your return.” He never took his eyes off hers as he held out his hand.
Rose tried not to make too much of the shivery sensations she experienced when her gloved fingers slid across his palm. A few heart-pounding seconds later, she was settling into the seat and watching him in the doorway, wondering what was left to say. So much, it seemed, yet the only appropriate word was good-bye.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Grace,” he said to the dowager. “Perhaps one day you will visit Petersbourg. If so, I would be honored to entertain you at Cavanaugh Manor.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed with a leaping thrill in her voice. “You are too kind, sir! Be warned, however, I may take you up on your offer, and then you will never be rid of me!”
He smiled at her with those dazzling blue eyes that had the power to seduce any woman alive, and Rose had no choice but to look away, for it was that very smile that had stirred her blood the first time they met. It was blinding, almost too painful to behold.
“Safe trip,” he said.
“And the same to you, Lord Cavanaugh,” the dowager replied.
It was time for him to close the door. “Good day, Your Highness,” he said with a gentlemanly bow. Then he shut the door and shouted, “Onward, Samson!”
The coach jolted into motion and Rose couldn’t help herself. She whirled around and stretched her body to look out the tiny back window, just for one last view of him.
Suddenly her whole being flooded with panic.
Perhaps it was a mistake to marry Joseph. Perhaps this was the only man she would ever desire and she would never truly be over him.
Leopold remained standing on the road outside the inn, watching the coach grow distant.
He must have seen her in the window, for he raised a hand to wave good-bye.<
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All at once, she was overcome by an uncontrollable urge to weep. Good Lord. What was wrong with her?
“What a remarkable man.” The dowager sighed. “So capable and handsome. He is a dream, is he not? How is it possible that he is not yet married? Is he looking for a wife, do you know?”
The coach traveled down a hill, and Leopold disappeared from view.
Rose turned on the seat to face front. She felt slightly nauseous and was quite certain she had gone completely pale. “I beg your pardon?”
“Is he married?” the dowager asked. “Because I have a few granddaughters who would most definitely find him very appealing. I am quite sure my son would send us all to Petersbourg in a heartbeat if there was the smallest chance we could capture the marquess for one of them.”
Rose carefully pulled off the glove that concealed her swollen wrist and massaged the tender flesh. “I am afraid he is already pledged to someone, Your Grace, though I do not believe they have met yet.”
“What a shame,” the dowager said. “I do hope this young woman will appreciate how very fortunate she is.”
Rose glanced up. “I am sure she will. The very moment she lays eyes on him.”
“Indeed,” the dowager replied with a chuckle. “I daresay she will lay more than just her eyes on him when she discovers his many charms. I wonder who she is? What does she look like?”
Rose gazed out the window at the passing landscape and imagined what her life might be like now if that woman had never been born. “I really wish I knew.”
Chapter Five
It was past dark when Leo’s coach rolled up in front of the house in Lambeth where his father was plotting the long-awaited overthrow of the Sebastian monarchy. Leo knew, however, that in reality his father’s presence in England had more to do with the high-priced charms of his current mistress, Georgia Stanhope—one of the less celebrated actresses on the London stage.
Her carriage was parked out front when Leo arrived (the woman had no shame) and it galled him to think that he had come all this way and sacrificed so much to do his duty in the name of the Royalist cause, when his father was constantly distracted by shinier, less permanent toys.
Leo stepped out of the coach, pulled off his leather gloves and tapped them against his thigh as he climbed the steps and met the butler at the door.
“Does he know I am here?” Leo asked as he shrugged out of his coat and removed his hat.
“Yes, my lord. I have just informed His Grace of your arrival. He has asked that you wait for him in the library.”
“Fine.” Leo strode purposefully across the hall to pour himself a brandy.
He waited for a quarter of an hour before his father finally appeared.
“Leopold, you’re late,” the duke scolded. “I was expecting you yesterday.”
“The roads were treacherous,” Leo explained.
There was no need to inform him about the chance meeting with Princess Rose. His father still knew nothing of their brief affair two years ago. If he had learned of it, he might have strung Leo up from the rafters.
But those days were done. He would have no more of it.
“Well, you are here at last,” the duke said. “Pour me a brandy, will you?”
Leo poured his father a glass from the crystal decanter and carried it across the room. He set it down on the large mahogany desk.
His father sat down in the chair behind the desk and crossed his legs. “I am afraid there has been a change in plans,” he said.
Leo sat down also and regarded his father with a dark, simmering fury he felt quite unable to control. Nothing was the same between them, and he was quite certain it was the war. He was not the same man he once was. Ever since his return from the battlefield, he was always looking for a fight, craving a forward charge. “What is it this time?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, boy. You know it hasn’t been easy. We must tread carefully toward our goals or we might all end up in Briggin’s Prison for high treason.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that’s where we all belong.”
His father frowned. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been irritable of late. Have you lost your courage?”
“It was never courage that drove this cause, Father,” he replied. “It has always been something else. You know it as well as I do.”
The duke leaned forward and slapped a hand on the desktop. “What are you implying?”
“I imply that your desire to crush the Sebastian monarchy has nothing to do with duty or honor. On the contrary, you hunger for power, and you have been using me to attain it.”
“I beg your pardon? Watch your tongue, boy!”
“Or what?” Leo replied, rising to his feet to tower over his father. “You will lock me in my room or beat me insensible? I wouldn’t recommend it, Father, because I am no longer that defenseless young boy. I have been to war. I have seen far worse than the back of your hand, sir, so if you ever raise it to me again, I swear to God I will beat you back twice as hard.”
Bloody hell! He had never spoken to his father in such a manner, but it had been a tumultuous year.
“Something has happened,” his father said. “Why are you suddenly doubting your purpose?”
The floor shifted beneath Leo’s feet. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t possibly admit that since he had faced death on the battlefield, he wanted only to live and quench his own hungers, not his father’s. And what were those hungers exactly?
He could only think of one …
Besides, Prince Randolph was a good man. Leo had begun to consider him a friend in recent years, and despite what the Royalists said about the New Regime, the people adored him.
“It is no longer my purpose,” Leo replied. “It is now yours and yours alone.”
“But you are pledged to Princess Alexandra Tremaine,” the duke said, sounding confused. “You have been pledged to her since birth. You’ve always known that.”
God help him, Leo had given up everything for the Royalist cause—everything—but he was done with that. His encounter with Rose last night had confirmed it.
“If Alexandra is so keen for me to be her champion,” Leo said, “why have we not been introduced? Why is she now competing with all the other women in England for a chance at Randolph’s hand in marriage? Don’t look at me as if it were not true. I’ve read the papers, Father. I know she has been presented at court, and that she has been provided with gowns and jewels, and she is considered the current favorite to win a proposal from the future king of Petersbourg.”
The duke sank back into his chair. “Dammit, Leopold. Why must you question everything?”
Leo walked to the window and spoke with bitter rancor. “Because I am not your bloody pawn.”
He took a moment to make sense of all this and bring his anger under control.
“Do not lose heart,” his father said with concern. “You must continue to be patient. You know we don’t have the resources to raise an army. This is the most efficient way to regain Alexandra’s crown and for you to rule beside her one day, as was always meant to be.”
Leo inhaled deeply, moved to a chair and sat down. “So this is the new plan? Alexandra will marry Randolph and be crowned queen all on her own without any help from us, while I simply wait in the wings for the people to realize they prefer true royal blood on the throne?”
It was a ridiculous pipe dream. It was never going to happen. And quite frankly, Leo was surprised his father was willing to accept such a passive strategy.
At the same time, Leo felt a great weight lift from his shoulders, for clearly Alexandra’s marriage to another man constituted a breach of their contract.
His father stood up and circled around the desk. “Yes. Then, and only then, will we have the power to turn the tide.”
Leo shook his head. “No, Father, not we. If she accepts a proposal of marriage from Prince Randolph, I shall consider myself released from our betrothal and no longer a part of this.”
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The duke hesitated. “But you cannot shun your duty. We are Hunts! We are descended from King Marcus II, while Randolph’s ancestors were butchers and blacksmiths. Alexandra has no family, and the New Regime may not be kind to her when they discover she is the secret Tremaine princess. She will need your friendship and the support of the Royalists when she arrives in Petersbourg. And you are not my pawn, Leopold. Your duty is to serve the crown, not me.”
It was a convincing argument, one he had heard many times before.
Duty to your true king. Honor for our family …
An almost violent rage filled Leo suddenly. He had sacrificed a great deal in the name of duty and honor, and perhaps if he believed Prince Randolph was a villain, he might continue to put duty above all without question. But over the past few years he had come to know Randolph and his brother Nicholas very well—and their sister Rose—and he could no longer believe that the destiny he’d always accepted as true was the proper course of action.
As a boy he was too young to understand and knew nothing but obedience to his father. As a man, however, he had come to recognize that Frederick was a great king, while his own father was a greedy dreamer and an adulterous husband.
God knows what he would do with the Petersbourg crown if he ever seized that ultimate power.
“I will have no more of this,” Leo said, backing away. “If Alexandra marries Prince Randolph and one day sits upon the throne, I shall consider my duty to the Tremaines fulfilled, and I will pledge my oath to the New Regime.”
“But the Sebastians are common usurpers!” his father argued. “They are not true royals. Frederick was a soldier. The throne was not his to take. It should have gone to our family. We were next in line.”
“Careful, Father. You are speaking treason.”
The duke’s cheeks flushed red. “Do you mean to say you are no longer a Royalist? That you are forsaking your birthright?”
“What if I am?”
The duke paused. “Then you will no longer be my son.”
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