Princess in Love

by Julianne MacLean

  “Of course.”

  “It is a pity you were in England when I had my debut, Lord Cavanaugh. It, too, was a spectacular event. I hope you will make up for it by dancing with me at the Coronation Ball.”

  “Naturally, I will be honored,” he replied, as he quickened his pace to reach the manor house, for he had much work to do and did not wish to give the young lady any further encouragement.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Love was both a blessing and a curse. Rose knew this for a fact, as she’d had much time to contemplate the matter while helping her brother and sister-in-law prepare for their coronations.

  Leopold had left town for the country and stayed away for weeks without writing a single letter. Though it felt more like months.

  She couldn’t be angry with him, for she had asked him to allow her time to consider her feelings. He was respecting her wishes and for that she was grateful, but it left her no further ahead in terms of a decision. She had thought her passions might cool under the forced separation, but instead her traitorous emotions had taken root and dug in very deep.

  Now, on the night of the coronation after weeks spent alone—and not a single letter from either Leopold or her fiancé—she found herself longing for the one man she had never truly swept from her heart the first time.

  Leopold Hunt, Marquess of Cavanaugh. Decorated war hero. Future Duke of Kaulbach.

  As she stood in the crowded reception hall and looked around at all the guests who were arriving for the ball, she weighed the fact that he would be present this evening, unlike her fiancé who could not attend. Joseph was occupied with the arrangements for the Vienna Congress, which was set to begin in less than a month.

  She considered that fact in terms of her future marriage.

  Wasn’t it better that Leopold was a citizen of her own country, not a foreigner? If she married him, she would not have to leave Petersbourg and reside in Austria.

  Oh, but listen to her. Perhaps she was dreaming. Perhaps Leopold would walk into this room, pick up a glass of champagne, and there would be a horrible repeat performance of the last time he’d jilted her.

  Feeling all at once terribly agitated by that memory, she entered the banquet hall on her brother’s arm and took her seat at the head table.

  It was the first time she truly and bitterly resented her rank as a princess, for it dictated who she must marry. Perhaps she was not as dutiful as she’d always imagined herself to be. Perhaps instead she was a rebel at heart and it was time to start behaving like one.

  * * *

  Randolph and Alexandra were first to dance at the ball. They waltzed around the parquet floor in a swirl of color from Rand’s striking scarlet regalia and Alexandra’s shimmering gold silk gown. She wore a string of pearls around her neck with earrings to match, and long white gloves.

  When the music came to an end, they stepped apart and bowed and curtsied to each other, then did so again to acknowledge their appreciation of the applause and cheering.

  As the orchestra began a new set, Randolph and Alexandra gestured for the other guests to join them.

  Rose was led onto the floor by the prime minister, Mr. Carlton, a handsome older gentleman with a sharp wit and a brilliant ability to win most any argument in the House. He’d been a good friend to Rose’s late father and had known her since she was a young girl.

  They were just beginning to dance a minuet when she spotted Leopold not far away, leading another young lady onto the floor. The woman—who was exceptionally fresh faced and appeared quite young—was unfamiliar to Rose. Slender as a twig, she was blessed with shiny dark hair and high cheekbones, full lips and delicately arched eyebrows. She wore a sea-green gown with pearls sewn into the puffed sleeves and peacock feather designs embroidered on the hem of the skirt.

  Leopold was attentive as he danced with her, and Rose felt as if she had just been flung back in time to the night he jilted her at a ball not unlike this one. He had danced with every woman in the room but her, and when she confronted him at the end of the night, he had treated her with frosty indifference.

  “What is wrong?” she had asked, after taking hold of his arm and forcing him to stop and explain himself before he left. There had been a beautiful Spanish-looking woman on his arm. “Why did we not dance together?”

  “I wasn’t aware we had made such an arrangement, Your Royal Highness. Perhaps next time…” With a courteous bow, he escorted the lady out.

  Rose had never been more angered or humiliated in her life, and would not under any circumstance repeat such behavior tonight.

  The dance ended and Mr. Carlton led her off the floor. She barely had a chance to catch her breath before Leopold’s soft, husky voice spoke softly in her ear. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Turning quickly to face him, she steeled herself against the urge to smile too brightly. “Thank you, my lord. Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “I am now.” He settled in beside her to watch the dancers. “Will you be my partner at least once tonight? Twice if you are feeling generous?”

  She lifted her chin. “I suppose.”

  He regarded her with a curious frown. “Are you angry with me?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Yes you are. I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your voice. Is it because I was dancing with that silly chit who has an ego the size of Portugal and a mother who is desperate to marry her off, just to be rid of her?”

  Now it was Rose’s turn to shoot him a surprised look. “I beg your pardon?”

  “She is the youngest daughter of the Earl of Palmeter,” he explained, “and spoiled rotten. Her mother brought her to Cavanaugh Manor recently, and they camped out for a bloody fortnight. I nearly went mad, I tell you. It was all I could do to keep from riding back to town to see you and assure myself that not all women were such selfish creatures. I wanted to write to you, Rose, and tell you every silly word she said.”

  In that moment, all of Rose’s insecurities from the past faded away as she regarded Leopold in the golden light from the chandeliers and let herself fall into the magic of the music. “I really wish you had.”

  His eyes met hers, and time stood still. Her heart pounded like a drum. She couldn’t escape the pull of whatever it was about him that would not let go of her heart, not even when he was miles away in the country.

  He gazed at her with heated desire. A muscle flicked at his jaw. “Is there somewhere we can go?” he asked in a dangerously persuasive voice.

  She understood his meaning. He wanted to be alone with her. She understood because she wanted the same thing. She could not possibly deny it.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she swallowed over the fear that someone would take one look at them and recognize their secret passion. Surely someone would know that she was not thinking of her fiancé. She was thinking only of how wonderful it would feel to fall into Lord Cavanaugh’s arms and know the sultry caress of his hands on her body and the tantalizing allure of his kiss.

  “Meet me in the library in the Van Eden wing at midnight,” she said without looking at him. “Do you know how to find it? You must exit into the center courtyard and reenter the palace through the double doors behind the white rose arbor. I will make sure they are not locked, and you must ensure that no one follows. Can I trust you with this?”

  “Of course,” he replied, also without meeting her gaze.

  “I will wait only so long,” she told him. “Now I must go.”

  “But will you dance with me?” he asked before she walked away.

  “Yes,” she replied, “but only once, and please do not look at me as you are looking at me now. No one must know what exists between us.”

  “But they will know,” he whispered in her ear, “for I want you as my wife, Rose, and I warn you now, I will never give you up.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly took her leave.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rose stood in the dark with only the bluish glow of the m
oonlight shining in through the window when the library door began to open.

  She had been waiting nearly ten minutes. She’d tried three times to sit down and relax on the upholstered settee in front of the bookcase, but could not sit still. After only a few seconds, she stood and paced back and forth in front of the window.

  Now, as the door finally creaked open, she felt almost dizzy with fear and excitement.

  Fear that her secret rendezvous with her ex-lover had been discovered …

  Excitement that he had come at last and would take her into his arms and again whisper sweet promises in her ear. Passionate promises that he would love her forever and never stop fighting for her.

  She realized in that blazing moment of anticipation that she could not exist any other way. She could not marry a man she did not love. Her passion for Leopold was undeniable, and he had declared his wish to marry her. To choose another man and another future would force her to live a lie, and she could not do that, not even for the good of her country. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but if it was, so be it.

  With bated breath, she stood motionless while Leopold entered the room and closed the door. She stared at him in the moonlight and quivered with desire.

  He felt it, too. There was no doubt in her mind that they were utterly together in this madness.

  “You’re here,” he softly said as he slid his hands behind his back and turned the key in the lock. Click …

  They were truly alone now. No one else could enter.

  Her senses ignited with heat and her body melted like butter at the sight of him pushing away from the door, crossing over the plush Persian carpet, and circling around the desk to reach her at the window.

  As they stood face-to-face, she felt as if she were sitting on a cloud, floating in a thick haze of rapture.

  “We must move away from the window,” he said. His fingers weaved through hers, and she wished they were not wearing gloves, for she wanted to feel the heat of his skin.

  Slowly, with a deliciously erotic note of command, he led her to the settee and whispered, “Sit down.”

  She sank onto the soft cushions and reclined back against the head rest while he shrugged out of his jacket. He turned to lay it on a nearby chair, then removed his gloves and set them down as well.

  He sat on the edge of the settee and laid one hand on the curve of her hip, while the other cupped her chin. The soft pad of his thumb feathered lightly across her lips.

  With careful movements, as if he feared she might spook and bolt if he moved too quickly, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. The tips of his fingers feathered down the side of her neck, sending a ray of gooseflesh across her body. His tongue mingled with hers, and the pleasure ached between her legs where a deliciously sweltering heat began to fill her senses. All this, from just a kiss …

  As he came away and let his gaze roam over all the details of her face, she tugged at the fingertips of each glove and slowly pulled them off. The delicate fabric slid across her skin, arousing her to a heightened state of desire that knew no bounds.

  Nothing seemed to exist beyond this private encounter. The rest of the world, past, present, and future, simply disappeared.

  “Tell me there is hope that you will be my wife,” he said. “Tell me you will speak to your brother and explain to him that you cannot marry the archduke—that by doing so you will be sacrificing your happiness forever.”

  “Yes.” She took his face in both her hands. “I will speak to him and I will beg to be released from my obligations. I want to marry you, Leopold, for I have never stopped loving you. Even when I hated you, I loved you.”

  His eyes filled with emotion, and he touched his forehead to hers. “You have made me very happy.”

  His lips found hers again and this time the kiss was deep and ravenous. The ache to feel him with her hands and devour him with her mouth was overwhelming in its intensity. She nearly fainted with rapture when he inched closer on the settee and slid his hand under her back to pull her closer. Soon he was lowering his heavy body to hers, kissing her neck and stroking everywhere with his strong, passionate hands.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and felt the firm evidence of his arousal which he pushed against her pelvic bone.

  Her mind was telling her to stop, that this was wicked and wanton, but her soul did not agree. Again, it was as if she were floating on a cloud, rising up to heaven, and she knew this was not wrong. It was what she was meant for—to share her life, her heart, and her soul with this man who somehow understood her more than any other person ever could. When she was with him, she was her true self.

  Leopold blazed a trail of hot kisses down the side of her neck, and she arched her back beneath him while clutching at his shoulders. His mouth moved to the tops of her breasts, just above her satin-trimmed décolletage, and she quivered with tingling ecstasy when he darted his tongue into the crevice between her breasts.

  “Your gown is lovely,” he said, “and you are beautiful in it, Rose, but I would dearly love to slide it off you.”

  She laughed softly. “I believe I would enjoy that as well, but it might raise some suspicion when I return to the ballroom.”

  “If you return,” he said with a devilish grin, “because I may decide to kidnap you.”

  Her hands stroked through his wavy, chestnut hair, which gleamed in the moonlight shining through the window, and she smiled at him in return.

  “It’s not kidnapping when your captive runs off with you willingly.”

  He slid a hand across the top of her thigh and slowly tugged her skirt upward, one glorious inch at a time, while he continued to kiss and tongue the tops of her breasts. “If only it could be so.”

  A quiet melancholy settled over her while she ran her fingers through his hair and squirmed with delight at all the erotic sensations he aroused within her. For he was right. It could not be so.

  If Rose—a princess pledged to marry the son of the Austrian emperor—ran off with her secret lover, the Sebastian dynasty might never recover from the scandal. The people of Petersbourg—the Royalists and Revolutionaries alike—valued virtuous beliefs and moral conduct, and would not react well to another member of the royal family displaying a lack of self-restraint. Her brother Nicholas had pushed those limits by stirring up his share of scandals, which was one of the reasons Randolph had brought Alexandra home from England to sit on the throne at his side. No one could dispute the fact that she had royal blood flowing through her veins, while the Sebastians were constantly judged by their behavior, for they were born of butchers and soldiers.

  “You are lost in thought,” Leopold said, shifting his body to lie beside her on the settee and resting a hand on her belly. “Talk to me.”

  Rose met his gaze. “I am thinking of the future and how I will tell Randolph that I cannot satisfy his wishes for a political marriage.”

  “He will understand,” Leo said.

  “Perhaps, but it is an important alliance that I will be breaking.”

  Leopold, who was leaning up on one elbow, ran a finger across the pearls that were stitched into her neckline. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  There was an unmistakable menace in his voice. She could not see it in his eyes, for he’d lowered his gaze to look down at her body. Her leg was exposed above the knee and she was still half dazed from the fever of her arousal.

  She cupped his face in both hands and urged him to look at her. “No, I am not having second thoughts.”

  “Then why are you still wearing that ring?”

  She paused and looked at the engagement ring Joseph had given to her. Many times she had watched it sparkle in the light, and always felt torn between what was expected of her and what she truly wanted.

  “I have no choice,” she replied. “I haven’t spoken to Randolph yet and I must consider appearances. People would notice if I took it off. We must be patient.”

  “For how long, Rose?” he said irritably. “I want you now.”<
br />
  “I want you, too, but it won’t be easy. Randolph will not be pleased, especially with the Congress approaching. He leaves for Vienna in a week and will be staying at Hofburg Palace with the emperor. I do not see how I can bring this up at such a time when all the great nations of Europe will be negotiating for new borders and renewed alliances.”

  Leopold was quiet for a moment. “You do realize I am attending the Congress as well.”

  She sat up. “I beg your pardon? You did not tell me this before.”

  “It was only decided tonight at the reception before the banquet,” he explained. “As you know, my father has returned from England and Randolph has personally requested his presence at the Congress. Naturally my father asked me to accompany him, as I will inherit his title one day and he wishes for me to meet our neighboring monarchs. It is quite an opportunity. The Congress will be a historic event that will shape the future of all Europe.”

  Everything he said made perfect sense, but all she could think of was the fact that he would travel to Vienna and possibly …

  No, not possibly. He would most assuredly meet Joseph.

  “Where will you be staying?” she asked. “Not at the Hofburg, surely.” It was the palace that belonged to Joseph’s family. His home. It would be her home as well if she went ahead with the marriage.

  Leopold exhaled deeply. “You’re upset.”

  “Yes! I most certainly am. How can you be telling me this now?”

  “You needn’t worry,” he argued. “I will be very discreet. We are in this together, Rose.”

  “Do you promise to be discreet? With Joseph especially?”

  “Of course.”

  Though she trusted Leopold, she couldn’t help but worry, for she recognized the depth of his passion for her. It was fierce and dogged—which is what she loved about him—but pray God he would show restraint when he met her fiancé.