Princess in Love

by Julianne MacLean

Her father had sanctioned the marriage. He was not alive to advise her now, which was a tragic circumstance, for he had always put her happiness and well-being above all.

  But happiness and well-being were sometimes two very different things.

  She was not entirely certain that Leopold was good for her. He had caused her terrible pain in the past.

  Her father had never known of it, for their affair was kept secret from everyone except Nicholas. Though she suspected Randolph knew. She could never confess it to her father, for it was wicked and wanton. She had desired Leopold so desperately that she had sneaked through the secret passages of his father’s manor house to visit him in his bedchamber and spend the night with him.

  Not unlike what she had done this morning by agreeing to a secret rendezvous in the woods.

  What was it about Lord Cavanaugh that brought out the worst in her? She was not a fast or wild woman. She was a dutiful princess and a virgin.

  She did not behave like one, however, when she was alone with Leopold Hunt.

  Chapter Ten

  “Upon my word, Rose. You are much better at this than I am.” Alexandra lowered the archery bow to her side and grimaced at the fact that her arrows had landed deadly strikes in two tree trunks and an elderberry bush beyond the target. Meanwhile Rose had hit the target every time and had come very close to the bull’s-eye.

  “I’ve been practicing since I was twelve,” Rose explained as she waved a servant closer to bring her another arrow. “It was one of Father’s favorite summer pastimes.”

  She raised her bow, took aim, and let another arrow fly. That one hit the bull’s-eye, dead center.

  “Marvelous!” Alexandra said, tucking her bow under her arm to applaud Rose’s skill. “You are a true master.”

  While a servant hurried to collect all the arrows, Rose and her sister-in-law strolled to the refreshment tent to enjoy some cool lemonade.

  It was stiflingly hot on the lawn. Rose was perspiring despite the fact that she was dressed in a gown of the very lightest muslin. Her maid handed her a sunshade. She twirled it around as she sipped the cool drink and looked out over the flat expanse of green lawn where the targets had been set up.

  There were very few people about, except for the servants. No one was fool enough to brave the heat and humidity, she supposed, but it provided a welcome opportunity to speak to Alexandra about her current quandary.

  “May I ask you something?” she said as they strolled along the hedgerow with their lacy sunshades.

  “Of course, unless it concerns archery, in which case I shall be of very little assistance.”

  Rose linked her arm through Alexendra’s. “How do you know when you love someone? How do you know if it’s real?”

  Alexandra gave her a curious sidelong glance. “I presume you are referring to your betrothed?”

  “Yes, of course,” Rose replied, for she did not wish to confess her transgression on the ridge with Lord Cavanaugh three days prior. She hadn’t told anyone about it, and until she determined what was best for her and the country, she would continue to keep it secret.

  “Are you unsure of your feelings for him?” Alex asked with both understanding and concern.

  “Not entirely. I like him well enough. He possesses a pleasant demeanor and is quite handsome. You haven’t met him, but you will. He promised to visit Petersbourg again in the spring before I depart for Austria.”

  “Are you worried that you haven’t had enough time to become better acquainted with each other?”

  “Yes, there is that, but we have our whole lives ahead of us, so that will come in time. What concerns me is that I do not…” She paused. “I do not long for him in the way I feel I should. Nor did I ever feel particularly…” She paused again. “I don’t quite know how to say it, so I shall be as blunt as possible. He has never made my heart go boom. You know, like a cannon.”

  Alexandra did not chuckle or seek to appease her. To the contrary, she stopped on the gravel path and lowered her sunshade. “Does this concern you?”

  Rose fanned her cheeks with her hand. “I don’t know. How was it with you and Randolph? You were prepared to throw away your chances at becoming queen when you did not know he was heir to the throne. Now you have everything you wanted—a passionate romance with your husband, while doing your duty at the same time. You are very fortunate.”

  “Yes, I am, but I would have married Randolph even if he was not the heir. It was a love I could not deny.”

  “When you say ‘love,’ do you mean passion? Or was it something else that told you he was the one?”

  Alexandra lifted her sunshade and they resumed their pace on the gravel path. “It was most definitely passion, and to be honest, I didn’t know what I was doing at the time. It was as if the whole world had spun out of control. I tried very hard to be sensible and listen to my head, but in the end, my heart won the war. Thankfully it all worked out, but now I know there is not a single chance I could have been happy marrying anyone else but him. My whole life would have been a lie. The nights would have been torture.”

  “The nights…”

  “If I had to give myself to one man, while I was in love with another,” she explained. “But that is not your problem, or is it? Do you love someone else? Because if you do, you must speak to Randolph. Surely he would not force you to be miserable for the rest of your life in the name of duty.”

  Rose swallowed uncomfortably. “No, I do not wish to speak to Randolph about it. At least not yet. Not when I am so unsure of my feelings. I admit there is someone who excites me, but I do not trust my heart. It could simply be that Joseph is very far away and I have been melancholy since Father’s death. Perhaps when we see each other again, I will be more certain of my affection for him.”

  Alex was quiet for a moment. “This man who excites you … is he here at court?”

  Rose spoke carefully. “He is a citizen of this country, yes, but I would prefer not to reveal his identity, for this infatuation may simply pass, and I would not wish to incriminate him as a person of danger.”

  “I see.” She paused. “Well, please know that you can come to me, Rose. I only want to help. I cannot speak for Randolph, but I would not wish to see you marry a man you do not love.”

  “Thank you, Alex. You’ve been very kind.”

  Rose glanced toward the targets and the servants standing in the sun, perspiring heavily while waiting for them to return.

  “What do you say?” Rose asked. “Shall we go shoot some more arrows?”

  As they turned toward the archery range, they noticed a footman walking briskly toward them.

  “He seems in a hurry,” Alex said.

  “He is carrying a letter,” Rose replied.

  “I wonder who it is for—you or me.”

  “Your Royal Highness,” the footman said with a bow as he held out a gold-plated salver to Rose.

  Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest as she picked it up and examined the seal.

  “It is from Joseph,” she said with a pang of disappointment.

  “Ah, there, you see? He may be far away, but he thinks of you. Perhaps this letter will remind you of the affection you share.”

  “Yes … I am sure that will be the case.”

  She waited for the footman to leave before she broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

  “Take your time,” Alex said. “I shall go and hone my archery skills.”

  She walked off, leaving Rose alone in the sun to read the letter.

  My dearest Rose,

  Please accept my condolences over the passing of your father—a great man and a great king. I wish I could be at your side during this difficult time, but alas I am very far from your borders.

  Please know that I hold his memory close to my heart and have no doubt that his soul is now resting peacefully with the angels. I will be returning soon to Vienna for the Congress in October. I wholeheartedly anticipate a prosperous summit, and I look forward to meeting with yo
ur brother, King Randolph.

  As always, I think of you fondly and look forward to our wedding day.

  Yours truly,

  J.

  Rose lowered the letter to her side and watched Alexandra exclaim her astonishment when one of her arrows penetrated the target. All the servants applauded. Alex laughed and gestured for one of them to hand her another arrow.

  I think of you fondly.

  Rose raised the letter and reread Joseph’s plain, dispassionate words. Then she looked at the beautiful diamond engagement ring he had given her, which sparkled blindingly in the sunlight.

  He was fond of her, to be sure, but did he love her? Did he desire her with all his heart and all the passion in his body? Did he even know what passion was? And if there were some impediment to their marriage, would he promise to wait for her forever? Would he fight for her if she ended their betrothal, or would he recover quickly and seek another wife before the year was out?

  She thought of all the moments they had shared when he’d visited her country. He had been a perfect gentleman and had kissed her only once, briefly on the cheek, before he said farewell on the day he departed.

  The kiss was polite. There had been no weakened knees, no racing hearts, no tears upon his departure—and certainly no hot-blooded sexual madness that left her judgment impaired.

  She sighed heavily. Perhaps a quieter, calmer sort of love was the better choice. Perhaps there would be less chance of heartache in the future.

  She folded the letter and handed it to her maid for safekeeping, then lowered her sunshade and handed that over as well before returning to the archery range to pick up her bow.

  An hour later, after an invigorating competition with Alexandra—whose aim was improving at an impressive rate—Rose returned to her private apartments to rest before dinner. When she entered her room, however, she was surprised to discover another letter under her door.

  With a blazing rush of exhilaration, she bent to pick it up, tore at the seal, and hurried to the window to read it.

  Dear Rose,

  I write to inform you that I must return to the country today to attend important estate matters, and I do not expect to be back in town until the coronation.

  I fully intended to leave the city without any communication to you for you were clear on that matter, and I do not wish to cause you any further distress.

  I could not yield to those noble intentions, however, for my heart still burns for you, more ardently than ever before. I ache to hold you in my arms, and I pray that one day I will know such bliss.

  Please think of me while I am gone. I will think of you with all my heart and a love so profound, no words can possibly convey it. Such intimacies can only be expressed through body and soul. By God, if you were my wife today, I would take you home with me to Cavanaugh Manor, carry you to my bed, and spend an eternity proving to you the power of my undying love—my sweet darling.

  I have not given up. I will never give up. You should have been mine two years ago, and I will fight for you until I draw my last breath.

  Your devoted and most passionate servant,

  Leopold

  Without thinking, Rose immediately pressed her lips to the letter and hugged it to her breast.

  She wished she could be indifferent toward Leopold, but any chances of that were suddenly dashed. She loved him and desired him with a passion equally as ardent and profound as he described in his letter. No words could possibly convey it to anyone.

  What was she to do, then? Speak to Randolph and discuss the possibility of ending her engagement? But what if this was not real? What if, like before, Leopold could not be trusted to remain true? She knew from experience that his passions could turn cold in an instant. He had seemed devoted to her once before, but he had broken her heart in the end.

  Had he truly changed, or was he simply too charming for his own good? And for hers?

  Though she wanted to run away with him this very instant and pledge her whole heart before sunset, she forced herself to see reason and be patient. She must continue to be careful. She was a Sebastian, and could not afford to do anything rash.

  Chapter Eleven

  Leopold pounded hard upon the inside door of the coach and shouted to the driver, “Stop here!”

  The heavy vehicle rumbled to a halt in the forest, less than two miles from Cavanaugh Manor. Leopold knew this property like the back of his hand and couldn’t pass by the old swimming hole without cooling off in it before his arrival at the house, for it was damnably hot inside the coach and he was drenched in sweat and close to suffocating.

  Quickly shrugging out of his jacket, he left it on the seat and flung the door wide open. “Good God, it’s stifling.” He spilled out of the vehicle and wiped a sleeve across his forehead. “I am going to take a dip in the river just beyond that knoll,” he said to his coachman. He untied his cravat and tossed it back into the coach, then unbuttoned his waistcoat and removed it as well. “Wait for me here. I will be back in a quarter of an hour.”

  He tugged his shirt out of his breeches and tramped into the woods, quickening his pace to a light jog over the soft ground, which was covered in a blanket of golden pine needles. As he breathed in the fresh scents of the evergreens, he realized that if he didn’t soon cool off, he might lose his bloody mind—and it wasn’t just the humid summer heat that plagued him. It was this damned relentless obsession with the princess.

  He hadn’t wanted to leave town, but had little choice in the matter for one of the tenant cottages had suffered a collapsed roof. Fortunately no one had been inside when the disaster occurred, and he was grateful for that, but now he had to assess the damage and decide what was to be done. Repair it or knock the whole place down and start over.

  After skidding sideways on the edge of his boots down the steep bank of the river, he reached the water and pulled his shirt off over his head, removed his breeches, boots, and undergarments, and dove naked into the slow, swirling waters.

  The chill of the river was a welcome shock to his senses. It woke him from the fog of erotic dreams that had been filling his head since he left town. What else was there to do, after all, during a long and tedious drive into the country but daydream about Rose?

  For that reason, he was as horny as a bull and something had to be done. Otherwise he’d arrive at the manor house in a quite improper state … frustrated as he was by Rose’s engagement to another man.

  Uttering a bitter oath, he slapped a hand across the surface of the water to send a silvery spray of fury into the air.

  He wished Archduke Joseph of Austria had never been born.

  All at once, a flash of hellish memories surged into his brain—explosions, terror, the violent all-consuming compulsion to kill, or be killed …

  Taking a deep breath, he sank quickly into the river’s depths, dunking his head and remaining there for quite some time while the water filled his ears and nostrils and drowned out those vivid images of battle.

  He thought of Rose and the soft touch of her lips. The sound of her voice. The warmth of her smile.

  Slowly, the out-of-control pounding sensation in his chest began to subside.

  A short while later, feeling somewhat cooler but no less frustrated by the reality of Rose’s engagement, he dressed himself and tramped back up the hill.

  He was driving up the tree-lined drive to the manor house and pulling to a halt out front when he spotted his mother. She was quick to meet him at the door as he alighted from the vehicle. “Leopold, I am so pleased to see you! Your hair is wet. Did you go for a swim?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t take the heat.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I share your woes. We have all just been saying how uncomfortable it has been lately, and how delightful it would be to cool off at the river.”

  He regarded her with some displeasure. “We? Do we have guests, Mother?”

  He had been looking forward to some peace and quiet. Time to reason out his feelings an
d calm the inescapable urge to lash out at everything that seemed to threaten him. Namely Archduke Joseph of Austria.

  He felt he needed Rose for that. Everything would be fine if he could just get her back.

  Or would it? He worried suddenly that something was wrong with him. He felt so damned restless and agitated lately.

  With a mischievous smile, his mother linked her arm through his and led him to the drawing room. “As a matter of fact, we do. You remember my dear friend Lady Palmeter? She has come to visit with her charming and beautiful daughter, Elise. You may recall that you once played together as children.”

  Ah. He could spot a matchmaking scheme from a hundred paces and could usually dodge those bullets, but it was too late to do anything about it now, for he’d already walked straight into the fray.

  “I do remember her,” he said, “but I trust you haven’t given the young lady false hopes, Mother. I am not presently seeking a wife.”

  “No?” Her disappointment was obvious.

  “No,” he firmly answered.

  She let out a tiny hmpf.

  “There is no point even trying,” he told her. “Not at the present time.”

  She inclined her head a fraction. “Why? Did something happen while you were in town? Were you given reason to hope?”

  His mother knew what he wanted. She also understood the delicacy of the situation.

  And yes, he had been given reason to hope—the moment Rose turned her face into his palm and kissed it with tender affection and desire. The whole world had turned golden before his eyes; the touch of her lips was like magic. He had felt transported back to the way things used to be. Just thinking about it now sent a hot rush of yearning down the hard length of his body.

  “I would rather not explain all the particulars,” he said, “but the princess’s marriage is not yet set in stone, nor will it be until she speaks her vows before God.”

  His mother stopped in the hall and faced him. “Please be careful, Leopold. This is not a game. She is not like other women.”