Princess in Love

by Julianne MacLean

  “Believe me, I know it.”

  “Does the king know of your intentions? Has Rose gone so far as to make promises to you?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. “Not officially, but do not concern yourself. I will not do anything foolish.”

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I was so relieved when your father set you free from that secret betrothal to Alexandra. I knew it would be dangerous to plot an overthrow, and that you would gain many enemies in the process. I always made it clear to him that I am a loyal subject of the New Regime, which is why your father and I now live apart.” She looked up. “But I do not wish for you to step out of that frying pan straight into another fire, Leo. Why can’t you simply fall in love with a less complicated girl?”

  He couldn’t help but recognize his mother’s own version of plotting an overthrow—one of a more romantic nature.

  “Like Elise?” he asked.

  The color returned to her cheeks. “Precisely. She is very beautiful and remarkably intelligent. You have a great deal in common with each other, and I am certain you will like her, if you will just give someone else a chance.”

  He took hold of his mother’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I will meet her if it will make you happy.”

  But there was no chance that his passions would be led astray. When he was with Rose, he felt like the man he was supposed to be. The man he had not yet become. She was the one he wanted for his future.

  They started up the stairs to the drawing room where a light lunch was already being served.

  * * *

  Lady Elise was indeed an enchanting creature. She was, in fact, one of the most classically beautiful women Leopold had ever encountered, with shiny ebony hair, full cherry lips, and a flawless, creamy complexion. When she smiled, her blue eyes sparkled with warm sensuality and deep dimples formed on both her cheeks.

  His mother had not exaggerated about her intelligence, either, for he soon learned that Lady Elise had been educated in France, spoke three languages fluently—English, French, and Spanish—and had a strong natural talent for music. She played the piano like no one he had ever heard. She could read complex sheets of music, and it was quite a spectacle to watch her slender fingers fly across the keys at an impossible tempo.

  If that was not enough, she was a gifted artist, as well (her mother was painfully eager to show him one of her watercolors), and she also enjoyed chess.

  “How lovely your gardens look,” Lady Palmeter said to him that evening in the drawing room after dinner. “The flowers are holding up very well in this wretched heat.”

  “That is my mother’s doing,” he replied. “She is the gifted one in the family.”

  “Gifted with gardens, you mean?” Lady Elise said. “But surely you have gifts of your own, my lord. One cannot defeat a terrible villain like Napoleon and return home a decorated war hero without certain rare and indispensable qualities.”

  She watched him intently over the rim of her china cup as she sipped her tea.

  “I suppose that is so,” he replied, hoping she would not press him to talk about it. He was weary of reciting the same stories over and over to strangers, always finishing to a round of cheers and applause, while most of the truth about the battlefield was left unsaid.

  “Forgive me,” Lady Elise said, seeming to recognize his unease. “Now is hardly the time to talk of war.” She sat forward to place her teacup and saucer on the table. “Napoleon has had far more attention than anyone deserves. I daresay we ignore him altogether, at least for this evening.”

  “Here, here!” her mother agreed.

  “What say you, Lord Cavanaugh? Perhaps a game of chess would appeal to you? I promise to be a worthy opponent.” Lady Elise sat up primly with her hands folded on her lap, staring at him with keen eyes.

  Though he would have preferred to go straight to bed, for he’d had an exhausting afternoon helping to clear away the rubble from the collapsed roof, he did the gentlemanly thing and accepted her challenge.

  As he escorted her to the chess table on the far side of the room, he heard the quiet murmurs of approval from their mothers and realized he was going to have to be exceedingly careful in his behavior with this woman, for he did not wish to do anything that might trigger a misunderstanding.

  They set out the chess pieces and began to play while chatting casually about the weather, his recent trip abroad to meet his father in England, and of course the marriage of King Randolph and Queen Alexandra.

  “What a shock it was,” Elise said, “when we read the newspaper that morning and learned that the woman he chose for a bride was none other than the fabled Tremaine princess. Are they absolutely certain she is who she claims? I thought King Oswald died without heirs.”

  Leopold moved a knight on the chessboard. “Yes, they are certain. She was smuggled out of Switzerland at birth and was raised in England under a false name.”

  “Smuggled out by whom?” she asked. “The paper did not disclose that information.”

  He watched her forehead crinkle while she considered how to make her next move. “A man by the name of Nigel Carmichael. He was one of Oswald’s chief advisers and has been her protector all these years. He resides in Petersbourg now and has been welcomed back at court.”

  “You don’t say. Well. I am sure the queen will be an outstanding monarch. She seems charming and lovely.”

  They continued to talk of light matters until they finished the game, at which time Leopold politely thanked Lady Elise, made the usual excuses, and retired for the night.

  * * *

  “Is he everything you thought he would be?” Lady Palmeter asked as she sat down across from Elise in front of the unlit fireplace in her guest chamber.

  Elise was slouched down so low in the facing chair, it was a wonder her neck didn’t snap.

  Dressed in a pale pink silk nightgown with a low neckline and nothing on her feet, she fanned herself grumpily.

  “He’ll do well enough, I suppose,” she replied, “but I am still angry with you about Randolph. It is your fault he married Alexandra.”

  “My fault? How can it be my fault? I didn’t tell him to go to England to find a bride.”

  “You should have let me debut last year!” Elise shouted. “I asked you a hundred times over! I begged and pleaded, but you wouldn’t allow it. You insisted I wait. Now look what has happened!”

  “You were barely seventeen, and he had just ended his engagement to Lady Elspeth. It would have been pointless last year.”

  Elise growled in displeasure and flew out of her chair. “You told me I could marry the future king!”

  “I said it was possible that you could. Not that you would. That sort of thing never comes with guarantees.”

  Elise shot her mother a seething look of pure venom. “I wanted to be queen.”

  Lady Palmeter shifted uneasily in the chair. “Chin up, darling. You can still be a duchess. Lord Cavanaugh is heir to his father’s title, and do not forget, he is descended from true kings, while the Sebastians are commoners by blood. There are still some who believe they are lowly usurpers who should be executed for what they did during the Revolution.”

  Letting out a huff, Elise slapped at the bed curtain and sauntered back to her chair. “Oh, do shut up, Mother. The bright side reeks of second-best.”

  “But Lord Cavanaugh is a shiny golden prize!” she argued. “He is without a doubt the very best there is available at the moment. He is a famous war hero and I daresay the most handsome bachelor at court. You cannot deny that. And if you want to catch him, you had best keep your eye on that target, Elise, or he will be snatched up by some other ambitious young lady who recognizes an opportunity when she sees one. As soon as word gets out that he was recently jilted by a secret fiancée that no one knew existed, he will be more sought after than ever before.”

  Elise lounged back in the chair again. “Stop trying to frighten me. I am not intimidated by other women. It is they who should
be intimidated by me. I am not the least bit concerned.” She snapped her fingers. “I can have him just like that if I want him. I am only angry that I did not have a chance with Randolph. If he had met me first, he wouldn’t have bothered to travel all the way to England to find a bride, and he wouldn’t have married that stupid Tremaine cow.”

  “Hush, Elise! She is your queen!”

  The reprimand was met with a careless scoff, then Elise stood up to admire herself in the cheval glass. She ran her fingers through her long dark wavy tresses and turned her cheek left, then right, to admire the soft lines of her jaw and the fullness of her lips. “Since I cannot have the king,” she said cantankerously, “I suppose I shall have Lord Cavanaugh instead.”

  Lady Palmeter let out a heavy sigh of relief. “That is wonderful, darling.”

  Elise’s blue eyes narrowed with malice as she regarded her mother in the glass. “Unless I change my mind again, of course,” she warned. “I may decide I want Prince Nicholas instead. He is second in line to the throne after all, and if Alexandra cannot give Randolph a son, he would be king.”

  Her mother blinked at her. “But Nicholas is a terrible rake. He leaves a trail of broken hearts and ruined reputations wherever he goes.”

  Elise climbed onto the bed. “Oh, for pity’s sake, sometimes I wish you would stuff a stocking into your trap, Mother. I haven’t made up my mind yet, and I will most likely keep both of them on the hook until I do. Now tell me where those cottages are, for I intend to get in Lord Cavanaugh’s way tomorrow.”

  Apprehension flashed across her mother’s face. “What will you do?”

  Elise rolled her eyes. “What do you think I’ll do?”

  “Elise…?”

  “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll be sweet and virtuous.” She flopped back onto the pillows and twirled a long tendril of hair around her finger. “I don’t believe it will take much effort. Watch and see. Lord Cavanaugh will be hopelessly infatuated with me before the noonday meal. Then all I’ll have to do is say yes to his proposal.”

  “You will be charming, I am sure.”

  “Of course I will. Now get out. I’m tired.”

  Her mother rose from the chair and quietly crept from the room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cantering at an easy pace toward the east cottages to ensure the repairs were under way, Leopold continued to ponder his mother’s concerns and wishes. She’d made no secret of the fact that she wanted him to move on with his life and let go of his desire to have Rose as his future duchess. She wanted him to consider Lady Elise instead, which was not such a very bad idea, for he was in hell at the present moment, wanting a woman who was already pledged to another man.

  Slowing his horse to a walk, he let his mind wander back to their encounter on the ridge overlooking the palace and recalled the sweet intoxicating flavor of her open mouth when he kissed her.

  Erotic images flooded into his brain, and he couldn’t help but envision the irresistible pleasures that would be his on their wedding night—if only he could have her for his own.

  He grew uncomfortable in the saddle as he fought an inconvenient surge of arousal, then heard the sound of someone calling his name.

  “Lord Cavanaugh!”

  Glancing across the fields toward the south river, he spotted a splash of pink and blue against the rolling green landscape. It was Lady Elise with a basket on her arm and a pretty straw bonnet on her head, ribbons flapping everywhere as she came barrelling down the steep hill.

  He pulled his mount to a halt and was just swinging a leg over the saddle—for he felt obliged to stop and say hello—when Lady Elise stumbled and fell forward onto the grass in a great heap of flying fruit and fluttering fabrics.

  Seconds later, he was dropping to his knees at her side before she even had an opportunity to realize what had occurred. “Are you hurt, Lady Elise?”

  “Oh my!” she exclaimed, sitting up and clutching at her ankle. “I do apologize!”

  “No apologies are necessary,” he replied. “It is I who should apologize to you for the unpredictable slope of my property. You took quite a spill. Are you certain you are not hurt?”

  “Oh,” she sighed. “I fear I may have sprained my ankle.” Without the smallest show of modesty, she flung her skirts up over her knee and reached down to massage the lower part of her shapely leg.

  Leopold immediately lifted his gaze to scan the surrounding countryside and ensure there were no witnesses about—for a scandal involving a young lady lifting her skirts for him was not what he needed right now. Ascertaining that there was no one in the vicinity, he gave her his full attention.

  “You are in no condition to walk,” he said. “Please allow me to take you home.”

  “Oh, you are too kind, my lord, but I cannot possibly inconvenience you. I shall limp back to the manor house on my own. It will be no problem at all. I will only require some assistance collecting the cherries I just picked in the orchard. I had hoped to have your cook bake a pie for the poor family that suffered a collapsed roof. Yes, your mother told me about it and I could not bear to imagine what they must be enduring. ‘Surely a cherry pie would lift the spirits of the children!’ I thought to myself last night as I was drifting off to sleep.”

  He stared at her intently. “That was very gracious of you, Lady Elise. I am sure they will be most grateful to receive such a gift. Now let me help you to your feet.”

  “Thank you, my lord. You are the most heroic of men.”

  As he slid one arm under the curve of her lower back and hooked the other under her knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled alluringly at him in the early morning light.

  He could not help but wish he was carrying quite another young woman to his horse this morning, holding her in his arms in this way and promising to see her safely home. To his home, where she belonged.

  Bloody hell. Perhaps his mother was right. Perhaps it was time to consider a woman who was not beyond his grasp—a woman who did not require him to fight another battle.

  He had to marry one day. It was his duty as a future duke. Lady Elise was too young, however, and clearly very impatient and impetuous to have broken into a run down a steep slope.

  But she had only recently had her debut, he reminded himself, and was still a child in many ways. In time, she would mature.

  He felt her soft warm breath on his cheek and the brush of her lips across his jawline.

  “You are a very handsome man, my lord,” she said. “How is it possible you have not yet taken a wife? Surely you have many admirers.”

  “If I do, I should be very flattered.”

  “Well, of course you do!” she exclaimed. “I feel fortunate to be in your arms this morning, even though I am injured.”

  He carried her to a low stone wall and set her down on the ground. Keeping one hand on his shoulder, she hopped on one foot.

  “Bear with me,” he said. “I shall summon my horse and deliver you to the house in no time at all, and we will do what we must to hasten your full recovery.” He whistled to Goliath, who came trotting over. “We shall use this wall as a mounting block. Can you put your good foot in the stirrup?”

  “With your assistance, my lord, I believe I can accomplish anything.”

  “Very well, then. Up you go.” He took hold of her under the arms and hoisted her onto the wall, then grasped the bridle to hold Goliath steady while providing support to Lady Elise with his other arm.

  Within seconds, she was sitting in the saddle, wiggling her bottom to find a comfortable position. “I wish I had the courage to ride like a gentleman,” she said, “but I am quite certain Mother would brain me.”

  Leopold chuckled. “No need to risk it. I shall lead you back slowly.”

  He went to collect the cherries that had spilled from her basket and brought them back to her. She slipped one gloved hand under the wicker handle and held on to the pommel.

  “Ready?” he asked, squinting to look up at her against the rad
iant morning sun.

  “Undeniably,” she cheerfully replied.

  They made their way along the wall and back onto the lane, where they walked for a short while without conversing. Then Lady Elise cleared her throat. “I understand your father has been abroad in England for many months. Will he come home in time for the coronation?”

  “I believe that is his intention.”

  “How wonderful. You will be pleased to be reunited with him, I am sure.”

  “Yes.” Though the last time they spoke, they had argued heatedly, and Leo wasn’t entirely sure his father was sincere in his newfound loyalty to the Sebastian dynasty. To be honest, he wasn’t looking forward to their reunion.

  “What has he been doing in England all this time?” Elise asked. “I thought most of our diplomats would return after Bonaparte’s defeat, yet he lingers there. I suppose he is enjoying the celebrations.”

  Warm under the scorching heat of the sun, Leopold considered how best to reply. He couldn’t very well explain that his father had been striving for months to orchestrate Leo’s marriage to Queen Alexandra. Nor could he reveal that the duke’s London mistress provided enough entertainment to keep him there indefinitely. So he simply lied about it.

  “He continues to act as an ambassador, and as you can imagine, there are many details to work out now that the war has ended. It’s more important than ever to secure positive relations with all our allies.”

  “How right you are, my lord. We are fortunate to have your father acting on our behalf. Someone from the old guard, so to speak.”

  Growing suddenly uneasy, Leopold kept up a steady pace on the lane. “What do you mean?”

  “He is a Royalist at heart, is he not?”

  Leopold cleared his throat. “He was once a friend to King Oswald, to be sure, but has declared himself King Randolph’s loyal subject. Now, with Alexandra as queen, I believe any quarrels that once existed between the Royalists and the New Regime are resolved. The old Tremaine dynasty is effectively restored.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” she quickly replied. “You are quite correct. It is a wonderful thing, and I believe the Coronation Ball will be the most spectacular social event of the decade. You will be there, I presume?”