The Accidental Princess

by Michelle Willingham

  Please don’t let him be the Prince, she prayed. For if he was, he was as good as lost.

  Michael rose before the sun came up, letting Hannah sleep. She was curled up on her side, her palm slightly open. He dressed in silence, slipping outside the door. He reached into his pocket and found the ring, still there. At first, he’d planned to return it to the jeweller’s. But after last night, he wasn’t certain.

  He didn’t know what had come over Hannah, why she had given herself to him. She’d refused to accept a ring from him, telling him that she would want it to mean something else.

  Was she saying she wanted to marry a man like him?

  It was foolish to consider the possibility. He was better off living on his own. He couldn’t take care of her in the manner she deserved.

  Grimly, he thought of their impending visit to the Schloss. The cynical side to him didn’t believe it would accomplish anything. A man like him…becoming a Prince? He simply couldn’t believe it could ever be true. They would take one look at him and toss him out.

  But if he were a Prince, he’d have the means to take care of Hannah. He could make her a Princess.

  You’re not capable of protecting a wife. Don’t even consider such a thing.

  Being with Hannah last night had changed everything. He’d become her lover, and it had been better than anything he’d ever imagined.

  Sweet, fiery and passionate, she’d swept him away. He’d been conscious of her every move, her every sigh.

  He fingered the ring in his pocket, and continued towards the innkeeper. He thought of hiring a maid to help Hannah dress, but in truth, he wanted another excuse to touch her again. Instead, he ordered a tray of food to be sent up for their breakfast.

  While the innkeeper’s wife went to prepare the food, the innkeeper paused. In halting English, he offered, ‘Lieutenant Thorpe, some men arrived last night. They were searching the inn for a man of your description. I thought you should know.’

  He suspected it was the Graf’s men. But it could also be the men who had attacked their coaches. There was no way to be sure. Nonetheless, it was not safe for them to remain here any longer. Michael thanked the innkeeper and went upstairs with the tray of food.

  Hannah was already awake and struggling to dress herself. ‘Good morning,’ she said, offering a hesitant smile. ‘Could you help me with this?’

  ‘Of course.’ He set down the tray and came up behind her, his hands grazing her shoulders. With both hands gripping the corset strings, he tightened her stays.

  ‘Why in the name of God do women torture themselves this way?’ he grumbled. He’d worried about hurting her, but Hannah had only laughed and told him to pull it tighter.

  He’d much rather have unlaced her, baring her soft, pale skin. As it was, he stole another kiss, trying to quench the need for her body. Her mouth moulded to his, her arms wrapping around his neck.

  The dark desire to have her again took control without warning. He wanted to strip her down, making love to her until she trembled with pleasure.

  But Hannah broke away from him, her face crimson with embarrassment. ‘Michael, I’ve been thinking. Last night when we…were together, well…I don’t think we should…do that any more.’

  Her sudden refusal bruised his pride. He reached into his pocket, touching the ring. This was her choice, he reminded himself. And perhaps it was better that way.

  ‘You’re right.’ He shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other. But he knew he’d become too tangled up with thoughts of her. Their time together would be short enough, and the more they became involved with one another, the worse it would be to say goodbye. ‘Last night was a bad decision for both of us.’

  She paled, but nodded her head in agreement. ‘I had no regrets at the time. But what if…there’s a baby?’

  He lost his breath at the very thought. He’d been caught defenceless by her, unable to think beyond the staggering desire. A baby. An innocent child, who would look to him as a father, a provider.

  Harsh visions struck him down, of a child crying out for food. Of Hannah wearing a threadbare dress, her hands worn from scrubbing floors. Would that be their lives, if he remained a soldier? He couldn’t let that happen.

  ‘If there is a child, I’ll take care of you.’ He voiced the words she expected to hear, though the idea of giving her anything less than the life she had was horrifying. He prayed that there would be no child, no lasting consequences of their forbidden night together.

  ‘All right.’ But she didn’t look overjoyed by the prospect either.

  Michael turned his back, gathering up the edges of his thoughts. ‘I received word that men are looking for me. We shouldn’t stay here tonight.’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’ Hannah moved in front of him for assistance with the buttons running down the back of her dress. Though he fastened them for her, the feel of her skin beneath his hands only re-ignited his hunger.

  ‘The Schloss. For now, at least. We’ll decide where to stay afterwards.’ Michael offered her the tray of food, choosing a scone for himself.

  Hannah picked at the food, as though she didn’t like that idea. ‘We have to speak to the King. There’s no other choice. But I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible will happen if we do.’

  She pushed her plate aside and donned her pelisse. After putting on her bonnet, she tied the ribbon beneath her chin.

  ‘It’s a risk, yes.’ But a necessary one. Michael wanted the answers, if for no other reason than to close this part of his life away. More than ever, he felt on the verge of unlocking the secrets of his past. Perhaps just by visiting the Schloss, he would sense something.

  Hannah finished putting on her gloves and regarded him. ‘Should we wait for the Graf to arrive after all? He knows more than we do about the royal family.’

  ‘True. But at the moment, we have the element of surprise,’ he murmured. Finishing his breakfast, he rose and picked up his hat. ‘We’ll do as Gerda suggested. I’ll ask to speak to the master of the household, or possibly the lord chamberlain.’

  ‘Should I request an audience with the Queen, while you do that?’ she suggested. ‘I might be able to find out more.’

  ‘No. We should remain together. Especially if others believe we’re married.’ His gaze fell upon her hand.

  Hannah saw the direction of his gaze. She let out a shuddering breath and removed her glove. ‘All right. I’ll wear the ring, but only for a few days. After that, I’m returning it to you.’

  Michael withdrew the ring from his pocket and slid it on her finger. He held her hand a moment longer than he should have, but she refused to look at him.

  In her eyes he saw the self-flagellation, the anger at herself for breaking so many rules. He wanted to say something to make her feel better. But what could he say? He’d been selfish, indulging in the night he’d spent in her arms. Even afterwards, with the shield of pillows between them, he’d needed to know she was close.

  Hannah had fallen asleep holding his hand. It had felt nice, watching over her while she dreamed. She was far too good for the likes of him, but it was too late to undo what had transpired between them.

  She adjusted the ring on her finger. ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for today, Michael.’

  So do I.

  With her hand in his, he led her down the hallway and towards the stairs. Below, he heard the din of voices gathering. It sounded as if someone important was here. Instinct made him keep Hannah behind him.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, people seemed to swarm from every angle. A group of soldiers came forward, armed with muskets. They cleared through the crowd, forming a line at the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘His Royal Highness has asked to see you,’ the Captain of the Guard announced.

  Not the King. The Prince.

  Michael glanced back at Hannah. He reached back to take her hand, bringing her beside him. ‘I suppose we’re going to get our audience after all.’


  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Not her,’ the Captain corrected, in halting English. ‘Only you.’

  Of course, Michael thought. It didn’t surprise him that the Prince wanted to address him alone. It was the easiest way to eliminate the threat.

  When the Captain started to argue, Michael cut him off. ‘My wife comes with me.’

  All around, he heard the buzz of voices. Though he couldn’t understand all of the Lohenisch words, he overheard them discussing the Changeling Prince. He tried to shield Hannah from the throng, but several of the men and women crowded too close.

  That was it. Michael stopped walking with the soldiers, levelling the crowd with his anger. ‘You do not touch her. Ever.’

  He guided Hannah to walk in front of him. The soldiers eyed him with distrust, as if they thought he would try to escape. Not at all. He had every intention of accompanying them to get his answers. It didn’t bother him that he was about to face the Prince of this country, the man who stood to lose the most.

  His immediate concern was Hannah’s safety. And though a part of him feared that it could be a trap, these men didn’t have the look of executioners. He’d seen soldiers who had been commanded to kill a man. The emptiness in their eyes and the grim reluctance were evident. No, this was duty. And so he kept Hannah close to him and kept another eye upon their weapons.

  The soldiers escorted both of them towards a cart drawn by horses. The primitive transportation would have insulted anyone of true noble birth. Hannah eyed it with the greatest reluctance. Even so, she said nothing as Michael lifted her up. In English, she whispered, ‘Why did they come for you? Do you think your enemies have found us?’

  ‘More likely word has spread of our arrival, after yesterday.’

  ‘I don’t like this.’ Hannah shook her head, her gaze focused upon their muskets. ‘One of them said it was for our protection, but it doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘I agree.’ At the moment, he didn’t want her to leave his side. ‘If they try to separate us, send word to the Graf immediately.’

  ‘I’m not worried about myself,’ Hannah whispered. ‘I’m worried about you.’ She gripped his hand, and he traced the ring upon her finger. Though she’d sworn she would only wear it for a few days, he didn’t want it to leave her hand. The delicate jewel was a means of keeping other men away from her.

  ‘I can take care of myself, Hannah.’

  She still didn’t look convinced.

  When they arrived at the Schloss, she craned her neck to study it. The stone walls gleamed in the light, the pointed towers reminding Michael of a fairy-tale castle. A sudden memory took hold, of walking through a flower garden, and a dark-haired woman smiling at him.

  He’d been here before. There was no doubt of it in his mind.

  ‘Do you suppose they’ll lock you inside one of those?’ Hannah pointed to one of the towers, only half-teasing.

  He didn’t smile. Truthfully, he had no idea what to expect from this audience. The soldiers helped them disembark from the wagon, and they were led to a private entrance.

  The stone exterior of the Schloss had an older foundation that was built centuries ago, while newer grey stones formed the upper levels. Glass windows reflected the morning sunlight while wild roses formed a pink-and-green hedge against the side. Six large chimneys rose from the topmost towers, reminding him that this was a modern Schloss and not an ancient crumbling castle from hundreds of years ago.

  ‘Lieutenant Thorpe and Mrs Thorpe, please follow me.’ The Captain escorted them through the back entrance and down a long hallway.

  A winding stone staircase led to the upper levels, and when they reached the first floor, the Captain stopped and opened the door leading to a small parlour. Motioning a female servant forward, he said, ‘Mrs Thorpe, you may await your husband here.’

  Hannah eyed the small sitting room, her gaze searching Michael’s.

  ‘She stays with me.’ He wasn’t going to be separated from her until he knew what to expect.

  ‘I am sorry, Lieutenant Thorpe. Fürst Karl wished to speak with you alone. We must obey his orders.’

  Michael stared at the Captain. ‘I am not subject to his rule. And Lady Hannah remains at my side.’

  He was well aware of the insult from the way the Captain stiffened.

  ‘Michael, I think you should go with them,’ Hannah interrupted. Leaning close to his ear, she added, ‘I may learn more about your circumstances if we are apart.’

  ‘Not this time. Not until we’ve met them.’

  For long moments, the Captain seemed hesitant to disobey, but at long last he signalled for them both to follow. He led them up another flight of stairs to a large room with a set of four Gothic windows. Light spilled into the chamber, illuminating a grand piano flanked by delicate French chairs. Long blue curtains hung around the windows, giving the room a touch of warmth.

  But there was no warmth coming from the man seated in a leather armchair at the far end of the room. His expression was grim, a man who radiated anger and hostility.

  Michael kept Hannah’s hand in his as he stared at the man. Though the dark hair was slightly lighter, the Prince’s face was nearly a mirror image of his own.

  ‘I suppose you’ve come here, hoping the King will acknowledge you.’ Fürst Karl stared at the man and woman who sat down before him. The gossip in Vermisten had risen to a fever pitch, the people wondering who the Lieutenant really was. The old stories of the Changeling Prince were resurfacing, and Karl sensed his grasp upon the throne slipping.

  The legends and stories were just that—fictional tales born of superstitions. He refused to believe that anyone else could ever usurp his place as the Crown Prince of Lohenberg. All his life he’d devoted himself to Lohenberg, his beloved country. But his kingdom was drifting toward chaos if he didn’t settle this problem.

  The man seated across from him was, without a doubt, a half-brother. Michael Thorpe, a lieutenant in the British Army, and most likely his father’s bastard son.

  Whether or not his ailing father had heard of the man’s arrival, he couldn’t be sure. But Karl would go to any lengths necessary to protect his mother. The Queen didn’t need to know about her husband’s indiscretions. She’d endured enough punishment over the years, from her own weak mind.

  Mad Queen Astri, locked away from the world for her own good. Few people dared to talk to her any more, for it only provoked another bad spell. Even his father avoided his wife, behaving as though he’d been widowed years ago. And as far as Karl was aware, only the Graf von Reischor had met with the Queen.

  Now this.

  ‘What is it you want?’ Karl demanded, continuing to speak English to the couple. ‘Money?’ The idea of paying a single pfennig to this man, to keep him away from Lohenberg, was repulsive.

  ‘I came here for answers.’

  The Lieutenant stared back, as though making a comparison between them. Karl tensed, for this man looked more like his father than he did. It unnerved him.

  ‘How old are you?’ Karl asked.

  ‘Twenty-six.’

  The same age, then. Karl bit back a curse, furious with his father. How could Sweyn have done such a thing? He might have understood it, if the Lieutenant were a younger man. Astri’s madness had cast an unforgivable shadow over the Schloss. It would have been understandable, if his father had sought comfort in another woman’s arms.

  But the presence of this man suggested something else. Perhaps Astri had known of her husband’s infidelity. Perhaps that had pushed her past the brink of reason.

  It made him sick to think of it. Karl leaned forward slightly, staring harder at the Lieutenant. There was no doubting the resemblance between them. It only fuelled his anger toward the King.

  ‘We share the same father, obviously,’ the Lieutenant said, ‘but I wonder about our mothers. Which of us was truly born of the Queen? Should we ask her?’

  Never. The idea of forcing Astri to endure this man’s presence
was unthinkable.

  ‘The Queen will not see you.’ Prince Karl stood and went to stand by the window. ‘She sees no one.’ Not even him. His mother had barely acknowledged him during his entire childhood. That wasn’t about to change.

  ‘What if I spoke to her?’ the woman spoke up suddenly. ‘Surely Her Majesty would not feel uneasy about my presence. I am no threat.’

  Karl hadn’t given the Lieutenant’s wife much thought. She’d remained quiet throughout their discussion, but from the confident way she held herself, he suspected there was more to her than he’d first suspected. She was beautiful, certainly. But there was something uncommon about her, too. An air of quality, as though she belonged here.

  Even so, he could not let anyone see the Queen.

  ‘No one,’ he repeated. Right now, he wanted to be rid of both of them. Though Karl loathed the idea of bribery, he didn’t see that he had much of a choice. ‘Return to London, and do not set foot in Lohenberg again. I’ll see to it that you receive compensation.’

  ‘We’re not leaving,’ the Lieutenant argued. ‘Not until I’ve spoken with the King and Queen.’

  Karl raised his hand in a silent signal to one of his guards. ‘Show the Lieutenant and his wife out. Be sure they reach the borders safely.’

  He wanted them gone from the Schloss. Out of Vermisten, out of his life. The sooner they were back in England, the better. If he had to use force, he wouldn’t hesitate. This was about protecting his family.

  The couple didn’t argue, but the Lieutenant stood, facing him. His gaze held the promise of a threat. In Lohenisch, he said calmly, ‘I didn’t ask for this. But I swear to you, I’ll have my answers. And so will you, whether you want to hear them or not.’

  Michael couldn’t seem to catch hold of the thousand-and-one thoughts racing through his mind. Confronting the Crown Prince had been like having his face smashed against a mirror. He’d seen traces of himself in the man’s features. His half-brother. But which of them was illegitimate?