Be My Prince
Page 9
The kiss was rougher this time, more aggressive, but she drank it in without restraint. She wanted this man badly enough to deny what she had accepted as her destiny. She would do anything for him. She would walk through fire or climb the highest mountain.
Perhaps others were wrong about her future and her true destiny lay elsewhere, for life was not all about politics and duty, was it? What about love? This affair may be sudden and impulsive, but here was a man she could not give up, not for any amount of power, wealth, or status in the world. She had no wish for a throne if it meant she could not have him.
“Say you’ll marry me,” he whispered in a quiet voice of husky allure as he eased her down onto her back and settled his hips snugly between her thighs.
“I cannot resist you,” she said. “I cannnot resist this.”
“Then don’t.” He thrust his hips and pushed against that yearning place that begged to be touched.
She threw her head back. “Oh, Nicholas, how I want you.”
“Then have me. I am yours.”
She kissed him again and pulled him close. “I’ve never done anything like this before. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, and one day soon you’ll understand why.” He laid openmouthed kisses down the side of her neck. “How long can you stay?”
“Not long,” she replied. “A few more minutes, then I must return. My stepmother does not sleep long in the afternoons. As soon as she wakes, she will look out the window. We must be careful not to stop in front of the house. She must not know we were together.”
His hand slowly slid up her thigh, and she squirmed with longing.
“What if she knew I offered marriage?” he asked. “Would she not agree?”
Alexandra blinked up at him. “She would not be pleased.”
He frowned. “Why not? I am second in line to the throne. Is that not good enough?”
“She wants me to marry your brother.”
His body went still. “Well, I don’t care what she wants. It only matters to me what you want.”
“I want you,” she breathlessly replied as she pulled him close. “But there are others, my benefactor for one, who would oppose it.”
She wasn’t sure what Mr. Carmichael would do. It could be dangerous.
Nicholas let out a deep, guttural groan of need.
“Oh…,” she sighed as he kissed her neck. “We could run away together. Then it would be too late for anyone to stop us. We could live abroad if you wanted. I would give up everything for you, even my chance at the throne.” Oh, God, what was she saying?
He drew back slightly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, something is wrong. What is it?” She leaned up on her elbows.
“I’m just…” He raked a hand through his hair as if he could not conceive of what she had just confessed and could not even form words. He sat back on the seat. “I am pleased you feel that way.”
“I do. I do.”
Quite unexpectedly, he took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes with fierce conviction. “But if you agree to marry me, I will have something important to tell you.”
“Tell me now.”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Not until we are both sure this is what we want.”
“I am sure,” she told him. “Aren’t you?”
He hesitated, and her heart sank.
“I need to know that you are sincere. That you will truly give up everything for me,” he said. “I need to be sure you will not change your mind.”
The wheels of the coach rattled ominously beneath them.
“Do you not believe me?” she asked.
“I was burned once before. Remember?”
Alexandra nodded. “Yes, I remember every word you’ve ever spoken to me, but what are we going to do?”
At last he faced her. “Let us do it then. Run away with me. We can leave in the morning, travel north to Scotland, and be man and wife in a few days—with or without your stepmother’s permission. Once it is done, there will be no reversing it, and it won’t matter about the scandal here in London. We will begin anew in Petersbourg. I will introduce you as my wife, and we will send for your sisters, who will be presented at court. We will be the happiest couple who ever lived. You’ll see. I promise.”
She gazed into his eyes and couldn’t seem to say yes. Not without telling him the truth.
“You seem unsure.” He looked hurt. Almost frightened.
“No,” she quickly replied. “I am not unsure. I want this. Truly, I do.”
Clasping her hand in his, he raised it to his lips. “You are everything I’ve ever hoped for, Alexandra, but never really imagined I could have.”
She smiled. “I am yours. Nothing will ever come between us.” She wouldn’t let it. She would do whatever it took. “But I must go.”
He did not yet release her. “Can you sneak out before dawn?”
Her heart beat riotously at the prospect. Was this really happening? “Yes.” Turning to look out the window, she said, “This is a good place to let me out. I can walk home across the garden.”
Nicholas pounded a fist on the wall, and the driver pulled to the curb.
“I won’t sleep a wink tonight,” she said with a laugh, barely able to contain her excitement as she kissed Nicholas one last time. “I’ve never been so happy. I never imagined my life could turn out like this!”
“Nor I,” he replied as she stepped out of the vehicle. “In the morning I will be parked here on the street outside your house in the same spot I was this afternoon. Do not disappoint me or you will break my heart.”
“I promise I won’t.”
He shut the door and drove away, and Alex walked briskly along the wrought-iron garden fence, skipping occasionally while making plans for her future. She would tell Nicholas the truth about her heritage in the morning. Best to do it before they crossed the border into Scotland.
Oddly enough, the notion of confessing to him did not frighten her, for she was quite certain he would understand, because he loved her.
And he would protect her. He would protect her against all enemies.
PART II
Where Truths Are Revealed
Chapter Eleven
St. James’s Palace
His Royal Highness Prince Randolph of Petersburg strode into the drawing room, instructed the butler to bring up a bottle of champagne, and immediately sent for Rose and Nicholas.
The champagne arrived first; then Rose entered the room, stopped just inside the door, and regarded him with surprise. “Good Lord, what has happened? You have that look about you.”
He picked up a glass of champagne and held it out to her. “You know me too well. I have good news. Come and celebrate with me.”
Nick came striding in just then, looking as if he’d just risen from bed. His hair was disheveled, and he was shrugging into a jacket. “What’s going on?” he asked. “The way Spencer was banging on my door just now, I thought there was a fire.”
“Rand says there is something to celebrate,” Rose explained with a curious lift of her eyebrow as she accepted the glass he offered.
“I’ll have one of those,” Nick mentioned. He followed Rand to the table. “Now tell me what is going on, and it better be good.”
Rand poured him a glass of bubbly and held it out. “It’s the best damn thing I’ve had to say all year. Perhaps you should both sit down.”
His siblings moved to the sofa while he remained standing.
“Your plan worked,” he said to Rose. “I have just proposed to Lady Alexandra Monroe, eldest daughter of the late Duke of St. George, and she has accepted me.”
Nick frowned. “But we’ve been in England only a fortnight. You’re sure about this? Wouldn’t you like to sow some oats first? Meet a few other ladies perhaps? Act like me?”
Nick stared at him for a moment, then raised his glass. “Obviously there’s no point in arguing. You will charge ahead as usual, straight into the thick of it.”
Rand turned to his sister, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.
“I cannot believe it,” she said. “I had no idea it would happen so quickly. But does she know who you are? Have you told her yet?”
Rand downed his champagne and set the glass on a table. “No. She has been working hard to resist what exists between us, and I needed to be sure she would be willing to give up the dream of marrying a future king. Today she agreed to throw duty aside for love. She even agreed to elope with me to Scotland and live abroad if we had to. It is exactly what you imagined, Rose, when you concocted this plan,” he added. “She has chosen me over the future crown.”
“So you are absolutely certain she genuinely loves you,” Rose said, not yet convinced. “There is no chance she already knows the truth?”
“No chance at all,” he replied. “Nick and I have been very careful. Ah, Rose, if you only knew what it has been like. When I am with her, I feel as if she understands my plight, for it is her own. She once wanted to marry for love, but bears the burden of duty to her family. She is conflicted, and I wish to rescue her. I cannot wait for the moment when I reveal the truth. I am certain, without a doubt, she will be overjoyed.”
He poured another glass of champagne.
“When will you tell her?” Nick asked.
“Tomorrow morning. As we are leaving London.”
“Leaving London?” Nick stood up. “But we’ve only just arrived.”
Rand raised a hand to calm his brother. “Have no fear. I don’t mean us. As I said, she agreed to run away with me to Scotland and forsake all her responsibilities. We plan to meet at dawn.”
Nick shook his head. “Are you mad? You are the future King of Petersbourg. You cannot elope without a word to anyone. The people will be furious and disappointed, not to mention how Father will react. It may start another rebellion, for we are hanging by a thread as it is. The people will not stand for this. The Royalists will use it to damage Father’s popularity. They will say that a real king would never do such a common thing.”
Rand sat down and regarded his sister and brother with steady eyes.
“I appreciate your concerns,” he said, “but I am not that foolish. I only wish to ensure that she is as devoted as she claims. When she walks out her door at dawn tomorrow, I will know that it is an act of love. I will then tell her the truth and suggest a proper royal wedding in Petersbourg. She will probably weep tears of joy, knowing that she will have love, as well as the thing she wanted most to begin with—a grand future for herself and her sisters. She will be greatly relieved that her stepmother will not disown her but will be prouder of her than ever for winning the race against all the other ambitious young ladies in this country.” He walked to the window and looked out. “Though I despise that turn of phrase. Calling it a race…”
Rose stood up and raised her glass as well. “Well then. I am very happy for you, Rand, and pleased also to anticipate the joy of having a sister. Let us drink to true love.” She paused and cleared her throat, as if she were fighting tears. “And whatever it takes to achieve it.”
He turned to her and bowed. “I owe you my happiness, Rose. I never imagined it was possible, but your brilliant plan has worked—for somehow I’ve managed to find the one woman in England who has no interest in my crown.”
With that, they raised their glasses and sat down to plan their journey home to Petersbourg—with his future queen at his side.
Chapter Twelve
That night after the household was asleep, Alexandra sat at her desk by candlelight with a quill in her hand.
She could not leave without a word to anyone in the morning. She could not simply disappear without explaining herself to her stepmother, who would notice her absence and worry that she had been abducted by revolutionary spies.
She knew her sisters would understand, for they were young and romantic, and she was not concerned for their welfare. The scandal over this elopement would be quite great, no doubt, but she was confident that Nicholas would take care of everything. Once they were married and living in Petersbourg, he would send for her sisters. They would be presented at court and make their own spectacular debuts in their new country.
She may not become queen, but she would be happy in love, and it would be enough.
For that reason, a letter was the only way. With luck, by the time her stepmother read it she and Nicholas would be well on their way to Scotland and no one would be able to stop them, not even Mr. Carmichael.
A wave of euphoria pulsed within her as she imagined stepping into the coach in the early hours of the morning.
Just to see him again—to touch him and know that he loved her and was willing to take this risk in order to spirit her away … It fueled her determination to an immeasurable degree. He had rescued her from her bitterness, her jealousy, and her empty vengeance. She owed him everything.
But heaven help her, she could barely think clearly enough to dip her quill into the ink, for her feet were tapping on the floor, and she couldn’t seem to keep the butterflies from fluttering wildly in her belly. She was the luckiest woman on earth!
Nevertheless, she persevered.…
Dear Mama,
Please prepare yourself for what I am about to confess. I have decided I cannot live a lie. I must marry for love, not duty or vengeance or ambition, and I must therefore give up the Petersbourg crown. I take solace in the fact that I do not believe my true family would have wished for me to sacrifice my happiness for the sake of tradition. I cling to the hope that any person’s life is worth more than that, no matter who they are—common or royal—and that in heaven, my father and mother believe the same.
Surely, heaven is a place of the heart where love and honesty without greed is the right way. I believe it must be true. My heart is telling me so. Something very powerful is driving me toward the love I feel for Prince Nicholas. Everything is telling me to let go of my ambition and give up my goal to marry the future king.
I do not love Randolph; therefore I cannot be his queen. I will fail miserably if I am forced to sacrifice my heart for a man I do not love.
Please forgive me for acting in accordance with my conscience and breaking the agreement we had with Mr. Carmichael. Please tell him I will repay all our debts to him. His generosity will not be forgotten.
Also, please tell June, Alice, and Frannie that I will send for them once we are settled in Petersbourg. Their futures are now secured.
Sincerely,
Alexandra
She laid the quill down on the desk and sat back to watch the ink dry.
A tear spilled across her cheek, and for the first time in her life she realized what true happiness was.
She wished the same for her stepmother and sisters. She prayed they would, one day, know it for themselves.
* * *
Please, God, don’t let her change her mind, Rand thought as the coach rolled onto Grosvenor Square at dawn.
It was still dark. The streets were quiet and empty, but the birds were chirping in the treetops. There was a fresh dewy coolness in the air.
Before stepping into the coach, he had paused a moment outside St. James’s Palace to breathe in the exquisite aroma of hope—for at last, he had succeeded in achieving the impossible. He had found a woman willing to marry him for love and not the throne.
Why, then, did he feel such intense trepidation?
He’d had his heart shattered once before, he supposed, and did not wish to repeat the experience. The cynic inside him almost wished he had not thrown caution aside so completely over the past week and given fr
ee rein to his emotions, but there was no turning back now. He had offered his whole heart to Alexandra, and now he must be courageous enough to follow through. He must believe, in the very depths of his soul, that she would not disappoint him.
For if she did not come, he was not quite sure what he would do. He doubted he would ever trust another woman again for as long as he lived. He might possibly declare war on the entire female race.
Finally, the coach pulled to a halt a few doors down from her home. He tried to sit back patiently and wait, but it was no easy task. He had been very confident in the drawing room the day before while explaining his plans to Rose and Nick.
Nick had expressed some concern about his impulsiveness, but Rand had defended himself and his actions.
Because he loved Alexandra. She was the only woman he wanted at his side when he became king.
He laid a hand on his stomach. It was swirling around and around.
Dammit. All he wanted was for her to dash out her front door at this very moment to be with him forever, no matter what their futures held.
He was half-tempted to proceed with this mad plan to elope to Gretna Green—like any common man—and forgo the pomp and ceremony of a royal wedding.
All in exchange for a simple wedding night mere days from now.
His blood quickened at the thought.
Sitting forward, he watched the front of her house.
* * *
Nearly two hours later, Rand pounded his fist against the back of the seat and cursed his bloody impatience. The sun had risen in the sky quite some time ago, but Alexandra had not come to him.
Had she changed her mind? If so, what was he to do about it? Go knock on the door and demand to hear from the butler why she had not left her house unchaperoned at this ungodly hour to run away with him and elope to Scotland?
Rand burst out of the coach, stepped onto the walk, and paced up and down along the garden fence, never taking his eyes off the front of the house.
Where the bloody hell was she? She had seemed so sure of her decision yesterday, and he had believed her to be genuine.