The Trouble With Princesses

by Tracy Anne Warren

  She could almost see them in her imagination. Emma had told her so much about her home country over the years that she felt as if she knew the place too, with its deep pine forests, flower-strewn valleys, and snow-covered mountaintops.

  But this was not the time to lose sight of Rupert’s infraction; she wasn’t about to let him escape so easily.

  “Hmm,” she mused aloud, returning the conversation to its original topic. “And here I should have thought you would revel in the Ton’s afternoon promenade, given all the opportunities it presents to see and be seen.”

  She waited to find out if he would take offense. Instead, his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Ah, but I can do that anytime I like. I have merely to set foot onto any London street and let the circus begin.”

  And for him, she supposed, it was a circus. She’d seen the kind of response he elicited through no conceit of his own. Much as she might be loath to admit, Rupert never invited people’s fawning. It came quite naturally to those who sought his attention and patronage.

  Her brows drew tight. How had he managed to turn the conversation to his own advantage when he was the one at fault?

  He shifted his gaze to Selkirk. “So, you’re a horseman, are you?”

  “I do my best,” Selkirk stated, “though clearly I am not as adept as yourself, Prince.”

  She might have thought Selkirk was trying to be falsely ingratiating if it weren’t for the fact that Rupert was indeed an exceptional equestrian. One had only to see him ride to know that.

  “May I take the opportunity to remark upon your horse?” Selkirk continued. “He’s a real beauty.”

  “Yes, he’s my pride,” Rupert said with a smile, as he reached down to pat the animal’s neck. “I raised Odin from a newborn foal. I suppose I ought to have left him back home in Rosewald, but he grows fractious if I’m away too long. In other words, he starts biting the grooms.”

  Clearly aware that he was the center of attention, Odin huffed out a quivering breath through his nostrils and tossed his head, his equine muscles rippling with barely harnessed strength beneath his glossy coat. Rupert controlled the spirited steed with an easy hand on the reins, not the least bit intimidated.

  Odin, she realized for the first time, was rather like his master—strong-willed, powerful, and dangerous when he chose to be—although to her knowledge, Rupert had never tried to bite anyone.

  The stallion sauntered a few inches closer to Selkirk’s gelding and aggressively showed his teeth, causing Selkirk’s horse to step hastily back. Rupert responded by moving Odin nearer to Ariadne’s horse, Persephone, in a way that separated the two of them from the other man.

  She shot Rupert a glance out of the corner of her eye, wondering if the maneuver had been deliberate on his part. But he gave no sign of anything other than polite concern over his horse’s less than friendly behavior.

  “You can see what I mean about him,” Rupert said. “But he is a full-blooded stallion and used to having his own way.”

  Selkirk moved his gelding another foot back, putting him well out of harm’s way. “You must have trouble finding staff who are willing to work with him.”

  “It takes a skilled touch, I admit. I find with lively beasts that one wants to use enough control to keep them in line but not so much as to break their spirit. It’s the spirit that makes it all worth the effort.”

  Ariadne scowled, wondering why she suddenly had the feeling he wasn’t talking solely about horses anymore. From the look on Selkirk’s face, she thought he might be wondering the same thing.

  Her lips tightened, along with her gloved hands on the reins. “It’s been a pleasure running into you like this, Your Highness. Now, if you will excuse us, Lord Selkirk and I must continue on our way.”

  “Yes,” Selkirk said. “I told the archduchess, your sister, that I would have the princess back in time for a late breakfast.”

  Rupert regarded them, his eyes alight with sudden intrigue. “Well, if such is the case, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself riding all the way back to Lyndhurst House. I am going there myself and shall be pleased to escort Princess Ariadne home.”

  Selkirk’s jaw stiffened with clear displeasure, his eyes moving to trade a look with Ariadne.

  She spared him barely a glance before she set her sights on Rupert once more. “There’s no need for you to cut your ride short, Your Highness. I am sure Lord Selkirk doesn’t mind the brief journey back to Grosvenor Square.”

  “No, not at all,” Selkirk said. “Lyndhurst House is on my way.”

  Rupert smiled, showing his teeth in a way that reminded her of Odin. “Actually I was finished with my ride, so why do we not all return together?”

  He had them cornered and he knew it. Short of being unpardonably rude, there was no choice but to agree to his plan.

  She met his unrepentant gaze, then turned her horse toward home.

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks later, Ariadne walked out of Lyndhurst House, fuming as she stepped into the waiting coach.

  Blasted man! He’s driving me mad!

  She took a seat and leaned back against the comfortably upholstered cushions, smoothing a stray crease from the skirts of her periwinkle blue day dress. Idly she gazed out the window at the residential Mayfair street and up into the nearly cloudless sky above. Moments later, the coach jerked and they were off.

  How lovely to be alone.

  Or perhaps she ought to amend that sentiment.

  How lovely to be without Rupert.

  Lately, it seemed that everywhere she went, he was there as well. Balls, soirees, musicales, garden parties, afternoon fetes, even carriage rides and strolls around the city with one prospective gentleman or another—somehow he managed to appear at them all.

  She couldn’t prove that he was following her, but she knew very well that he would never have bothered to accept a fraction of the invitations that arrived daily in his correspondence were it not for his sudden interest in tormenting her.

  In fact, he was making the social hostesses of London swoon with delight, leaving more than one of them to speculate excitedly that perhaps his unprecedented socializing meant that he was considering taking an English bride, an aristocratic girl from outside the usual royal circles.

  But Ariadne knew better. She knew his real game was to thwart her plan to take a lover.

  What an idiot she’d been to share such a confidence with an unreasonable tyrant like him. He’d caught her in an unguarded moment, when her defenses had been down. To say nothing of the fact that his kisses had been directly responsible for muddling her brain at the time.

  Since then he had not tried to repeat their embrace. He hadn’t so much as touched her except to share a single quadrille one evening at a ball.

  Not that she wanted him to touch her; she most certainly did not. It was mortifying enough that she was still awakening some mornings with the memory of his kisses on her lips. All she wanted was for him to respect her wishes and let her live her life as she chose.

  If only he would stop trying to interfere! Honestly, she didn’t know why he was being so overbearing. It wasn’t as if she was a part of his family.

  But Emma was.

  And therein lay the crux of the problem. What should have been her reputation to ruin, or not, as she chose, had gotten all muddled up with Emma’s reputation and, by extension, Rupert’s own.

  As prince regent and future king of Rosewald, he had standards to maintain, rules that must not be broken, in his regal estimation. Since she was so set on breaking them, he was now set on stopping her.

  He claimed he cared about her safety, and perhaps in some respects he did. Still she suspected his motives went deeper and were bound up not just in Emma’s reputation, but in an annoying determination to exert his power over her.

  If only he had gone home when he’d originally planned, her life would now be heaven. Instead, he’d turned her world into one frustration after another, interrupting her at the most in
convenient times, intimidating all but her most persistent suitors.

  Honestly, he was worse than a Spanish duenna.

  If she didn’t get rid of him soon, the Season would be over and so would her chance to secure a lover.

  Which was precisely what he wanted.

  But Rupert sadly underestimated her if he thought she would be so easily discouraged. She would find a way around him. She just had to come up with a plan.

  For today, though, she was simply hoping for a respite, an activity designed strictly for her own enjoyment and edification. Over the past few weeks, she had missed several intriguing lectures given by the literary and intellectual club to which she belonged. When she had received the invitation to hear a talk on the natural rights of women and the tyranny of traditional marriage, she realized it would be the perfect way to spend a free afternoon.

  A Rupert-free afternoon!

  For surely even he would not wish to listen to a lengthy discussion of modernist notions about the role and place of women.

  A short while later, the coach rolled to a stop in front of a small but well-kept town house in Bloomsbury. This section of London was decidedly middle class and not at all the usual kind of neighborhood a member of the Ton would visit, especially a princess. But she prided herself on her open mind about such petty distinctions, relishing the sense of independence she always experienced when she came to one of the lectures in this part of the city. Here she could be among like-minded individuals, who valued others for the sharpness of their minds rather than for the weight of their pocketbooks or the fashionable quality of their attire.

  Once inside, she greeted a few acquaintances, accepted a cup of hot, sweet tea, then took a seat in the back of the drawing room, as was her habit. This afternoon’s speaker was a female writer and lecturer who had traveled extensively throughout Europe seeking to understand the status of women in various cultures and find universal themes and solutions for their intellectual and economic enslavement.

  Ariadne opened her blue silk reticule and took out a pencil and paper. She listened attentively as the lecture began, making notes now and then on her pad.

  Nearly an hour later, her tea was long gone and her pad and pencil lay idle in her lap. She repressed the need to yawn, opening her eyes wider and wishing the room weren’t quite so warm.

  She sensed someone slipping into one of the seats in the row of chairs behind her. She did not turn, but forced herself to sit up straighter and refocus on the speaker as the woman launched into a detailed comparison of the educational levels of females in southern versus northern European regions.

  “Are these things always this dull?” mused a rich masculine voice near her ear, “or is this one just particularly deadly?”

  She stiffened and whipped her head around to find Rupert leaning forward in his seat, his arms folded casually atop the back of the chair beside her.

  Her lethargy disappeared. “What are you doing here?” she said under her breath.

  Devil take it. Was there nowhere she could be safe from him?

  He shrugged. “I had a spare hour. I thought I’d see what was so interesting that you would come halfway across Town for it. From what I’ve heard, you would have had more fun staying home and taking a nap.”

  “This is an intellectual discussion. Just because the subject is not to your liking does not make it unworthy.” As for its excitement level, she refused to comment. Not everyone could be counted upon to be a scintillating speaker.

  “It still sounds like a great load of trifle to me.”

  “Then why do you not go away?” she shot back, careful to keep her voice down.

  “And miss an opportunity to watch you try to keep your eyes open? I’ve rarely been so entertained.”

  Just how long had he been here watching her? she wondered in outrage.

  “Besides,” he said quietly, “I wished to speak with you.”

  She glared at him. “You are speaking with me.”

  “Privately. Why do we not go somewhere less crowded?”

  She bit back the first retort that sprang to mind, which was to tell him that he could go to Hades for all she cared. Yet loath though she was to admit it, Rupert was right: the speaker was exceedingly dull, however worthy her philosophy might be.

  “Very well,” she agreed with a barely veiled sigh.

  Careful not to be any more disruptive than necessary, she secured her pencil and pad inside her reticule and rose to her feet. She ignored the few stray glances that came her way, including a chastening frown from the lecturess herself, and followed Rupert from the room.

  The town house had one other small parlor, on the opposite side of the hallway. She led him there, grateful there were no servants in sight. “Now, what is so colossally important that you felt the need to disrupt my afternoon?”

  “I’d hardly say that was a disruption. More like a rescue, in my estimation.”

  She crossed her arms. “What do you want, Rupert? Or have you come merely to give me another lecture on the evil of my ways?”

  He arched a golden brow. “If I thought a repetition of the sentiments I expressed during our last private encounter would have any effect on you, then yes, I would recite my warnings afresh.”

  Strolling toward the window, he gazed out on a narrow side garden before turning back toward her. “But from what I have observed over the past couple of weeks, you do not seem to have taken my words to heart.”

  “If you mean that I refuse to see villains around every corner, then you are right. The men with whom I choose to be acquainted are gentlemen, who treat me with care and respect. I have no need to fear them any more than I fear you. I shall not allow you to frighten me out of my decision to take a lover, Your Royal Highness, simply to appease your sense of propriety.”

  “Is that what I’m doing? You think it is the potential loss of your virtue and reputation that concerns me?”

  “In the main, yes.”

  “Then you would be mistaken, although those are assuredly considerations that are difficult to overlook.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to forestall her. “However,” he said, “I can see that continuing to debate the point is of no use.”

  “Absolutely none. I am quite determined, you see.”

  His brow furrowed. “Yes, I believe I do. Which is why I have been giving your . . . wishes on this matter a great deal of thought.”

  “Oh really? Have you been devising new ways to harass and vex me? Plotting new schemes designed to thwart my every attempt at enjoyment? You may think that by popping up at every ball and party I attend you will deter me, but it only makes me more persistent, more determined to have my way.”

  “So I can see, though I can hardly be held to account for receiving invitations to the same social functions as you, considering that we both move in the same social circles.”

  “Perhaps not, but you can be held to account for accepting those invitations. I’m sure you would have refused half of them were it not for your sudden, and unwanted, interest in my affairs.”

  He shrugged, making no effort to refute her charge. The clear amusement in his gaze made her blood boil.

  “I am a fully grown woman,” she stated. “I have no need of your protection.”

  “Maybe you do not, but you would be wise to take it. Which leads me back to the reason I wished to speak with you. I have a proposition I would like to make.”

  “Really?” she said skeptically. “And what, pray tell, might that be?”

  “Why do we not be more comfortable and take a seat?” He gestured toward the nearby sofa.

  She stood, unmoving. “I am perfectly comfortable as I am.”

  “Very well. As I said, I have been doing a great deal of thinking, and although I believe you would be best served by putting aside this radical notion of yours, I can see that you are indeed as determined as you say.”

  “I am.”

  “Knowing you as I do and given your
sheer propensity for courting trouble—”

  “I do not court trouble.”

  “Maybe not, but it finds you nonetheless. Which means that if you continue on your present course you will most surely land yourself in a great deal of difficulty. Rather than invite such calamity to rain down upon you, I suggest you take measures to minimize the risks.”

  “What sort of measures?”

  “By taking a lover who will have a care for your reputation and your safety. A man who will see to it that no great harm comes to you in the course of this madness that you voluntarily seek.”

  “But that is precisely what I have been attempting to do in my search of eligible gentlemen!” she exclaimed.

  “Yet you risk exposure by the very nature of your search. You need a man you can trust implicitly,” he said smoothly. “A man who would never have cause to reveal your secrets.”

  “Oh? And just who might this paragon be that you have in mind?”

  The blue in his eyes darkened, gleaming with a light she had seen only once before. “Why, myself, of course.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rupert watched as Ariadne’s arms dropped to her sides, her lips parting on a quick inhalation. Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating so that the black nearly swallowed up the green of her irises.

  “Clearly you are surprised,” he observed. “Perhaps you might like to take that seat now?”

  She nodded, making no objection when he took her elbow and steered her to the sofa. She sank down onto the cushions. He believed it was the first time he had ever seen her speechless.

  “Would you care for a glass of sherry?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  After a moment she lifted her gaze to his. “Why are you making this offer . . . ?”

  “I believe I have given you my primary reasons. I don’t want you left damaged without so much as a shred of your reputation remaining.”

  “I told you I don’t care about my reputation,” she murmured.

  “Then you are shortsighted and foolish.”