Princess in Love

by Julianne MacLean

  The coach rumbled noisily for a while along the rutted dirt road.

  “You don’t suppose this has something to do with Cavanaugh again, do you?” Nicholas asked, sitting forward on the seat. “Because it seems odd to me. She liked Joseph well enough when he came to visit last spring, but ever since that carriage mishap in England…”

  “I asked her if she was in love with anyone else,” Randolph replied, “but she denied it. Why do you bring it up? Do you truly think she’s hiding something?”

  Nick gazed out the window at the passing haystacks in the fields. “Who knows? At any rate, maybe it doesn’t matter. She wants to choose for herself. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt again.”

  “Like she was hurt last time when she fell for Cavanaugh?”

  Both men fell quiet. “Exactly,” Nick replied. “I’ve seen the way she looks at him, and though she once claimed to hate him, she seems to have forgiven him since we returned from England.”

  “He came to her rescue that night,” Randolph said, “and for that I am grateful.”

  “As am I, but I wonder if he has given her some encouragement, and that is why she has lost interest in her Austrian fiancé. Would you object if she wanted to marry Cavanaugh?”

  Randolph gazed out the window as well, and listened to the sound of the horses’ hooves clopping along the packed ground. “I suppose not, as long as she waits a respectable amount of time after her break with the archduke. We wouldn’t want to stir up another scandal.”

  Nicholas agreed. “At least Cavanaugh comes from a long line of illustrious Petersbourg aristocrats and kings. He’s not a bad choice, actually, and the people adore him since his return from the war.”

  Randolph sighed. “Yes, but let us not forget how he broke her heart once before. I swear, Nicholas, if he treats her shabbily again, I won’t care a fig about the royal blood in his veins. I’ll string him up and hang him out to dry.”

  Nicholas regarded his brother intently in the swaying coach. “If we’re bringing up his shortcomings, we shouldn’t neglect to mention that his father has always been a secret Royalist. To tell you the truth, I’ve never trusted Kaulbach, and never understood why Father made him president of the Privy Council.”

  “Father always believed in the old adage: keep your friends close—”

  “And your enemies closer,” Nick finished for him. “Perhaps he thought he could win his loyalty in time.”

  “He did think that, and by all accounts, he succeeded. The duke served him well and played an important role at Leipzig.”

  “As did Leopold.”

  Randolph nodded. “Yes, he was brilliant on the battlefield. I cannot imagine we could have distinguished ourselves nearly so well without him.”

  “Which is why you invited him and his father to Vienna,” Nick reminded him.

  Randolph sighed. “Yes, but perhaps that was a mistake. I don’t know. Let us keep an eye on both of them, just the same. The duke especially.”

  Nicholas sat back, looking satisfied and very much at ease. “It shouldn’t be difficult. I suspect they’ll be attending all the balls and soirees. The duke has always enjoyed meeting new women.”

  “Which was a pity for his wife,” Randolph mentioned. “I always thought the duchess was a lovely woman. I never understood why Kaulbach insisted on straying from her bed.”

  “She’s well rid of him, I say,” Nicholas agreed.

  Rand chuckled. “Is that not the pot calling the kettle black? You’ve never refused an opportunity to meet new women.”

  “Unlike you,” Nick replied, “because you are hopelessly bewitched by your new, expectant wife.”

  Rand gazed out the window again. “Bewitched … Yes. Good God, I miss her already. Let us hope this conference is over in a snap.”

  * * *

  Heaven help me if I am discovered, Rose thought as she hurried along the hedgerow in the dark. For it would cause a scandal like no other …

  She scurried to the outer gates at the servants’ entrance and said, “Good evening,” to the guard who was posted there.

  “A bit late to be sneaking out, ain’t it, miss?” he said.

  “It most certainly is,” she casually replied, “but I trust you will keep my secret.”

  She spotted the curricle approaching and waved a hand to signal to it.

  Leopold, dressed in a plain gray overcoat with a black hat pressed low on his head, pulled to a halt and waited for her to dash across and leap into the vehicle without assistance. “Take hold of your hood,” he said, snapping the lines to urge the horse into a canter. “The wind may knock it away from your face once we get moving, and we must be cautious.”

  She leaned into him and made a great show of sliding her hand into his coat and stroking his chest, while the guard whistled in amusement, watching them as they sped by.

  “Clearly he did not recognize you,” Leopold said, turning his head to kiss her on the mouth after steering the curricle down a quiet lane.

  She couldn’t keep her hands to herself. All she wanted to do was climb onto his lap and tear brazenly at the buttons of his jacket and waistcoat.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he dragged her hungry lips across his cheek and down the side of his neck. “Not far, I hope. I don’t want to waste a single moment driving. All I want to do is devour you. You must think me shameless.”

  He chuckled when she threw a leg over his lap and straddled him. Gentleman that he was, he voiced no objection, despite the fact that she was obstructing his view. He kissed her hotly in return and waited for her to bring the sizzling kiss to a graceful finish before he leaned to the side to peer around her in order to avoid driving straight into a tree.

  He turned up the lane that circled around the back of the palace toward the park where she went riding in the mornings, and found a narrow cart road that took them into the apple orchard.

  The October night air was crisp and cool and the scent of the fresh apples filled it with a sweet, natural perfume.

  Leopold pulled the horse to a halt just over a gentle rise and set the brake. Wasting no more precious time, he leaped out of the vehicle. His boots hit the ground with a thud. He spread a blanket out on the grass, and held his arms out to Rose.

  A flashing second later, they were entwined in each other’s arms on the blanket, kissing passionately. She sat up and quickly ripped off her cloak while he tossed his hat aside.

  “I thought this night would never come,” she told him breathlessly. “I nearly went mad in my impatience.”

  “I suffered the same agony,” he replied, settling himself snugly between her parted thighs. “Every moment away from you is a moment I never wish to repeat.”

  Their lips met in a fierce and violent kiss that set Rose’s heart on fire. The world spun circles all around her. She had never felt more alive, never more sure of any decision in her life.

  “I want tonight to be the night,” she said, arching her back in rapture while he blazed a trail of hot, succulent kisses down the side of her neck to her collarbone. “I want you to make love to me.”

  Breathing hard and fast, he rose up on both arms above her. A gentle breeze blew a part in his hair. The full moon over his head glowed brilliantly. “If I make love to you, there will be no turning back. You will be mine, Rose. My wife in God’s eyes. Forever. No man—not even your brother the king—will keep you from me.”

  She nodded. “I give you my word—I am yours.”

  He sat back on his haunches, tugged at his cravat to untie the knot, and reached around the back of his neck to unclasp a chain.

  “I cannot yet give you a ring, but take this.” He held out a gold medallion that swung like a pendulum before her eyes. “Keep it with you always and know that it holds my promise of forever.”

  She sat up, leaned on one arm while she reached out with the other hand to rub the pad of her thumb over the gleaming gold treasure. “What is it?”

  “A family heirloom. It belonged to m
y ancestor King Edmond the Fourth. I will entrust it to your care until we are together again, and one day we will pass it to our eldest son.”

  He clasped the chain at the back of her neck. She looked down at it and fingered the shiny surface embossed with the Kaulbach coat of arms. “I am honored to wear it.”

  He came down upon her again, and she welcomed him with open arms. “I wish we could get married now. In secret.”

  His hand journeyed down the side of her body and over the soft curve of her hip. While he laid hot kisses on her neck, Rose opened her eyes to look up at the beautiful night sky, framed by the rows of apple trees on either side of them. Crickets chirped all around, and a breeze whispered gently over the grass.

  With sweet, feathery caresses, Leopold stroked her body and aroused her to an almost delirious fever. His lips were everywhere, moving gracefully over her eyelids, her cheeks, her neck, the tops of her breasts. He hooked his fingers under the neckline of her dress, tugged it down over her shoulder, then kissed the sensitive flesh there and tasted her with his tongue. He sucked at her tender skin, and the sensation caused a fresh flurry of arousal in her core. She gasped at the shocking intensity of it.

  Leopold regarded her with hooded, seductive eyes while she ran her hands down the muscular surface of his shoulders and arms.

  “We will take it slow tonight,” he whispered. “I want to make this perfect. I want to give you everything.”

  Sliding her hands slowly across all the slopes and hollows of his strong, fit body, she gave a dreamy reply. “Then let me explore every inch of you.”

  Carefully she found her way to the front of his breeches. He let out a soft groan and rolled onto his side to face her.

  She, too, rolled to her side and slid her hand over the tops of his breeches to firmly stroke the length of his arousal.

  All her desires culminated in that magical moment of discovery. Cautiously, but with clear determination, she fixed her eyes upon his, unbuttoned his waistcoat, ran her open palms over the fine linen fabric of his shirt to stroke his chest, then tugged it out of his breeches.

  Without uttering a sound, she slid her hand inside and felt the shocking size and overwhelming virility of his manhood.

  Instinct told her to be gentle, but she saw by the flicker of arousal in his eyes that he took pleasure in a firm stroke of her hand.

  “What do you like?” she asked. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know what a man wants.”

  “Do what you want, darling. There are no rules. Just enjoy yourself.”

  She stroked him for a long time, learning what pleasured him by watching his expressions and listening to the sounds he made. She paid close attention to the pace of his breathing.

  After a while, he rolled onto his back and she inched closer to continue exploring all the treasures inside his breeches. His lips parted and every so often his body jerked in a tiny spasm of excitement. He was breathing hard and turned his head to look at her. “I cannot take this much longer,” he said.

  She nodded while he slid a hand down to lift her skirts and caress her as he had done on the soft settee in the palace library. As before, his fingers slid over her with great ease. With a soft moan of rapture, she thrust her hips upward, needing to push herself against his palm.

  He stared at her for an intense moment of deliberation, then inched his body lower and disappeared under her skirts.

  The shock of his kiss upon the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh caused a fresh flood of desire to crash thunderously into her belly. When he plunged his open mouth into the damp center of her womanhood, she was done for.

  Rose gasped in shock and sank her fingers into the thick wool of his jacket at his shoulders, clutching at it. Thrusting her hips in response, she relaxed back on the blanket and gazed up at the stars, twinkling like thousands of tiny diamonds. She felt as if she were rising up into the cosmos and floating around like a celestial being.

  Another gentle breeze hissed through the orchard, and she closed her eyes, hearing only the sound of Leopold’s mouth pleasuring her.

  The orgasm came upon her suddenly, like an explosion of sparks in a hot fire. All the muscles in her body tensed as the pleasure flowed through every limb, from the top of her head to her fingers and toes. She arched her back and cried out into the darkness, completely unable to control the quivering, pulsing contractions between her legs. The climax ended in a frenzy of pleasure, and all the while Leopold continued until she was completely weak and boneless.

  When he climbed up over her on all fours and looked down at her with a smile, she could barely speak. She felt drunk with passion.

  “You look quite satisfied with yourself,” she said, letting out a deep, husky chuckle.

  “It’s you I’m satisfied with. I love how you respond to every touch and stroke. I feel as if we were born to be lovers.”

  “I believe we were,” she replied, feeling weak, but still wanting more.

  As if reading her mind, he lowered his body to hers and embraced her tightly on the grass. She wrapped her legs around his hips and stroked his hair, shoulders, and arms. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “And I love you.”

  He entered her then, shockingly with a slow, natural ease that minimized the pain of her ruptured maidenhead, for she was completely open and ready for him and wanted him desperately in every corner of her soul.

  He moved in and out of her with tender, loving care while kissing her mouth and nuzzling her cheeks. She had never in her life felt more cherished, and knew this was the right choice. Leopold was the man of her dreams, and this was her ultimate commitment to that dream. There would be no going back now, and she was glad of it.

  Soon he reached a tumultuous climax that equaled her own earlier orgasm in its intensity, but he withdrew in time to prevent a child and spilled his seed onto the blanket. As he collapsed beside her, he fought to catch his breath while he clasped her hand tightly and held it.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’m not sure if I am,” he replied. “I feel transported—as if everything is finally as it is meant to be, yet I don’t recognize myself.”

  She rolled to her side to face him and frowned with some concern. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never known peace before,” he said, bewildered. “I’ve always been fighting for something—even you.”

  “Do you feel peace now?”

  He looked at her directly. “I’m not sure. I still feel like I need to fight. I think it’s because you are still engaged to him. I cannot bear it, Rose. I cannot even speak his name. I need to know he is truly out of your life.”

  She could not deny that his jealousy pleased her. It was part of his passion, which was what she loved most about him.

  “He will be out of my life soon enough,” she assured him as she relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder.

  While they took time to recover from their lovemaking, they talked about the future and the Congress in Vienna. They spoke of borders and politics and what Napoleon must be thinking and feeling in his exile.

  “Surely,” Rose said, “such an ambitious conqueror must be going half mad on such a small island with nothing to do but regret his strategic mistakes.”

  Leopold expressed his frustration at how generous and hasty Tsar Alexander had been in negotiating for Bonaparte’s abdication. “We should have stripped him of his titles and shipped him off to St. Helena,” Leo said. “He should have been treated like a prisoner, not a deposed monarch. Two million francs a year! That is what King Louis must pay to him to keep him content. But mark my words, a man like that will grow restless on Elba, and we will all be thrust right back into another war.”

  Rose leaned up on her arm. “Do you really think so?”

  “Elba is only seven miles off the coast of northern Italy. It’s an easy trip to France if he chooses that direction, which I suspect he would. Let us not forget, Rose, he took a
thousand members of his Imperial Guard with him.” Leopold glanced up at her for a moment, then invited her to lie down again. “I am sorry, darling. Perhaps I am wrong. I hope I am.”

  Another breeze blew across the tops of the apple trees. Dawn was not far off. They held each other tightly, knowing the dreaded moment of separation would soon be upon them.

  When the sky began to brighten on the horizon, they forced themselves to rise and fold the blanket. Leopold tossed it into the coach and held out his hand to her. “Let us not go just yet. Are you hungry? Would you like an apple?”

  He was stalling and she knew it, for the idea of saying a hurried good-bye at the palace gate was too horrible to bear. Her heart was beating out of control, and her stomach was in knots. But she kept that to herself, for she did not want to spoil the magic of their last moments together.

  Never letting go of her hand, Leopold led her to the nearest tree and told her to select the apple of her choice.

  “That one,” she said, pointing to the one that was the brightest red in color, yet low enough so that he would not need to climb.

  He jumped to grab hold of the branch, pulled it low so she could reach it. “It is yours for the plucking.”

  She smiled at him as she picked it, then held it out to him.

  He took a big bite, crunching into the crisp flesh. “Sweet and juicy. Your turn now.”

  She turned it over in her hand to inspect the surface, and selected a spot next to the place where he had taken the first bite. As she crunched into it, the flavor stimulated her senses.

  Arms wrapped around each other, they took turns finishing the apple, then he tossed the core deep into the orchard.

  Her heart sank. “I suppose this means we must go.”

  He nodded. “Before the sun comes up.”

  He helped her into the curricle and went to pick another apple, which he fed to the horse before climbing up beside her. Soon he was snapping the lines and they were under way.

  Rose linked her arm through Leopold’s, and rested her head on his shoulder as he steered the curricle around a tree and began heading out in the opposite direction.