Three Weeks with a Princess
Page 1
A KISS FROM A PRINCESS
“So, let me be perfectly clear, your lordship,” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You are not my brother, my father, or anything else that gives you the right to command me. I am a woman grown and I have proven time and again that I am more than capable of making sensible and rational decisions. And given the extremely precarious position in which my grandmother and I find ourselves, my plan is without a doubt the most sensible course of action.” She gave her head a dramatic toss. “You, Lord Lendale, have nothing to say about it.”
Her disdainful tone and her rejection of their relationship set off a little explosion in Jack’s head. He marched around the desk and planted himself in front of her, his legs spread and his hands propped on his hips. It forced Lia to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, glare for glare.
“As much as it pains me to speak so bluntly—” he started.
“Ha! I doubt that.”
“The circumstances demand that I must do so,” he said, ignoring her jibe. “You are no more an actress than a courtesan. You are no more a Notorious Kincaid than I am. What you are is an innocent and nice young lady who was raised in the country. And that is exactly where you will remain until I figure out how to deal with this situation.”
Her eyes blazed with icy blue fire. “I beg to differ, my lord. If I put my mind to it, I’m quite sure I can be just as notorious as the other women in my family.”
Then she reached up and clamped his face between her palms. She went up on her toes and planted her mouth on his, kissing him with a fury that almost knocked him off his feet . . .
Books by Vanessa Kelly
MASTERING THE MARQUESS
SEX AND THE SINGLE EARL
MY FAVORITE COUNTESS
HIS MISTLETOE BRIDE
The Renegade Royals
SECRETS FOR SEDUCING A ROYAL BODYGUARD
CONFESSIONS OF A ROYAL BRIDEGROOM
HOW TO PLAN A WEDDING FOR A ROYAL SPY
HOW TO MARRY A ROYAL HIGHLANDER
The Improper Princesses
MY FAIR PRINCESS
THREE WEEKS WITH A PRINCESS
AN INVITATION TO SIN
(with Jo Beverley, Sally MacKenzie,
and Kaitlin O’Riley)
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
THREE WEEKS With A PRINCESS
VANESSA KELLY
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
A KISS FROM A PRINCESS
Books by Vanessa Kelly
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Vanessa Kelly
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-4111-5
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4112-2
eISBN-10: 1-4201-4112-0
Prologue
Yorkshire
Christmas 1809
Lia Kincaid adored Stonefell Hall during the Christmas season, despite the fact that it was the time of year she was most likely to be barred from the place she considered home. As she gazed down at the baronial splendor of the great entrance hall, now festively adorned with swags of evergreens and bay leaves, she couldn’t help glowing with a sense of pride and, yes, ownership.
But Stonefell wasn’t home. Home for her was a short walk down a country lane to Bluebell Cottage. Bluebell was undeniably charming, except when the roof leaked or the chimneys smoked during an east wind. Still, one learned to live with pans strategically scattered around the house to catch drips and windows could be opened if a parlor grew too smoky.
Of course, Lia had no choice but to live with leaks and other little annoyances. Her grandmother would never complain to the cottage’s owner, the Marquess of Lendale, about something as mundane as a leaky roof because his lordship had other things on his mind when calling on Granny. The two of them lived in a romantic bubble when they were together, leaving the boring details to Lia to handle.
And speaking of leaks, her boots were getting as aerated as the cottage roof. Lia wriggled her damp feet to restore some warmth to her toes, but her cramped position behind a wooden screen made it difficult to move. Maintaining her crouch, she inched her way across the long gallery that overlooked the hall. At the opposite end, she was finally able to stand and partly hide herself behind a stone column. It was colder now because she was farther from the roaring blaze of the hall’s stone fireplace, but at least she could hop around and send blood flowing back to her limbs.
Her position offered her an excellent view of Lord John Easton, along with his daughter, Lady Anne, and his wife, Lady John Easton—Elizabeth to her family and close friends.
Neither Lia nor Granny could count Lady John as either family or friend.
The Eastons, who were spending the holiday with the Marquess of Lendale, Lord John’s older brother, were the reason for Lia’s temporary banishment from Stonefell Hall, when she normally had the run of the place. If Lady John caught sight of either Lia or her grandmother, fire and brimstone would rain down from the skies.
Lady John blamed Lia’s grandmother for bringing disgrace to the Lendale good name, and her hatred for the notorious Rebecca Kincaid ran deep. It didn’t matter that the marquess had installed Granny on the estate over ten years ago, or that he continued to openly support both her and Lia with the clear intention of doing so for the rest of his life. In Lady John’s eyes, Granny was the harlot and enchantress who’d caused Lendale to lose both his wits and his sterling reputation.
But it was mostly because of Anne that Lia was ordered to remain hidden. Lady John was adamant that her daughter not be exposed to the moral pollution of any one of the Kincaids.
Lia propped her shoulder against the column and studied the elegant, beautiful girl. Anne was dressed in a white velvet gown trimmed with spangles that made her shimmer like a Christmas bauble under the flickering lights of the massive chandelier hanging over the hall. She was destined for great things on th
e marriage mart according to the gossip in the kitchens. And she was certainly popular tonight, with a bevy of callow bachelors trailing along in her wake.
Despite her proud demeanor, Anne had a charming smile and a cheerful laugh that made Lia think they could be chums if given half a chance.
But, of course, they never would be. It would be wildly inappropriate for such a fine young lady to suffer the insult of Lia’s presence. After all, not only was she the granddaughter of Lendale’s mistress, she was the daughter of a famous actress and illegitimate to boot. Lia had often wondered what would happen if Lady John discovered she and Anne had accidentally run into each other a few times. Total mayhem would most likely ensue, or at least a great deal of screeching and possibly even a decorous faint.
Nothing good came from the visits of Lord John and his family. Nothing good at all.
With one gloriously earth-shattering exception. Jack Easton, eldest child and only son of Lord John and Lady John, would be visiting, too. That fact made up for all the inconveniences and slights a thousand times over.
Unfortunately, Lia’s chances of spending any significant amount of time with Jack seemed remote; he was staying in Yorkshire for less than a week and his blasted family was doing their best to monopolize his attention. Not that she could blame them; monopolizing his time was precisely what she had been longing for since he’d arrived.
She’d lost sight of Jack about ten minutes earlier because the hall was filled to bursting with the local gentry, all come to partake of the festive hospitality of the Marquess of Lendale. Jack had looked ridiculously handsome and dashing in his new regimentals and, not surprisingly, a horde of country girls had trailed behind him like a gigantic, multihued scarf of fluttering, flirtatious butterflies.
Lia only saw Jack three times a year—at Christmas and two other school holidays, when he came by himself to visit. Because of that, she couldn’t help resenting the fashionable, well-bred girls who could speak to him, flirt with him, and dance with him whenever they pleased. It was a luxury she longed for with all her heart.
You nitwit. As if Jack Easton could ever—would ever—fall in love with you.
How could he? Lia was one of the Notorious Kincaids, though the description was ridiculous when applied to her. Skinny, with freckles, and as flat as a board, she could no more follow in the famous footsteps of her mother and grandmother than conjure a mug of wassail from thin air. Despite her scandalous parentage, Lia was as ordinary a country girl as one could imagine.
Still, being ordinary didn’t make her acceptable, as least not for the likes of Jack Easton, who was destined to be the Marquess of Lendale one day.
“Lurking in the shadows again, are we? I swear you’d make a splendid spy in Wellington’s army.”
As Lia jerked around, her foot caught on the sodden hem of her gown. She squeaked as she fell back against the banister rail, frantically pinwheeling her arms to regain her balance. Jack shot out a hand and snatched her from danger.
“Confound it, Lia,” he gasped. “Be careful.”
After casting a glance into the hall, Jack drew her into the shadows at the back of the gallery.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was very silly of me.” Compared to the elegant young ladies he’d been dancing with earlier, she must seem like a foolish bumpkin.
Jack gave her a brief, fierce hug before holding her at arm’s length to inspect her. “Pet, don’t apologize. I’m the one who snuck up and startled you. I’m just thankful I caught you before you toppled over the side.”
“Jack, I’m not that clumsy.”
Laughter crept into his dark gaze. “Of course you aren’t. I don’t know how I could remotely suggest such a thing.”
She sighed. “I suppose because you’ve saved my life any number of times over the years?”
“Well, I have pulled you out of the pond at least twice. And then there was that time you knocked down the wasp’s nest, and the time you almost fell out of the tree, and the time you knocked over that heavy bookshelf in the library—”
“At least two of those incidents were your fault in the first place. But I will concede that you’ve rescued me more than a few times. And you’re an absolute beast to point that out, by the way.”
“I am, aren’t I? But whatever would you do without me around?”
He was joking, of course, but it still made her chest go tight with sorrow. Soon she would have to do without him. Jack was a man now, and a soldier. In just a matter of weeks, he would be embarking on a life of adventure. God only knew when she would see him again.
“I expect I’ll rub along just fine without you,” she said, forcing a light tone. She refused to ruin the few moments they had together with high-flown dramatics. He had to put up with enough of that from his mother.
“It was very nice of you to come up here to see me,” she added.
“I spotted you crouching behind the screen. That red pelisse of yours was a dead giveaway. Not that I hadn’t already guessed you’d be up here.”
Lia’s heart thundered into a gallop. “No one else saw me, did they?”
Lord Lendale would be angry if he knew she was spying on his guests. She wasn’t even supposed to be in the house, much less lurking about the gallery, where she risked discovery.
“No one else saw you,” he said. “Except for Richard. He sees everything.”
She heaved a relieved sigh. “That’s all right, then. He’ll scold me, but he won’t rat on me to his lordship.” Richard was the head footman and one of Lia’s biggest supporters at Stonefell Hall. He’d been only a kitchen boy when she’d arrived all those years ago. They’d all but grown up together.
“Fortunately, I managed to distract Debbins before he got a glimpse of you,” he said.
Unlike most of the servants, who treated her with indulgence, the butler was offended by her very presence. “Thank you for saving me,” she said wryly. “Again.”
Jack frowned. “Debbins doesn’t mistreat you, does he?”
“Of course not. Lord Lendale would never allow that.”
“But he’s not very nice to you, is he?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me very much.”
His frown deepened to a scowl. “I’ll have a word—”
“No. That won’t help at all.”
“Lia—”
“Why are we talking about that old rusty guts anyway? We’ve not had a moment to chat and I expect you have to go back down soon before you’re missed.” She smiled up into his dear, handsome face. “How are you? Are you enjoying your duties in the Horse Guards? I must say you look simply wonderful in your uniform.”
He grinned, his evident pride making him seem boyish again. “It’s even better than I expected. I’ve been assigned to Northumberland’s staff, so I’ll be heading out for the Peninsula within the next few months, I expect.”
The very idea of him anywhere near the war terrified her, but she refused to let him see it. Jack had always longed for a military career, and thanks to his uncle’s willingness to buy him a commission, he’d finally gotten his greatest wish. As a true friend, she must be happy for him.
“That’s splendid,” she said. “I hope you’ll find the chance now and again to write to us here in boring old Yorkshire. It’s beastly quiet, you know. Your letters are always a welcome distraction for me and Granny.”
“I will, whenever I get the chance.”
“You promise you won’t forget?” she asked, unable to help herself.
His dark eyes went soft and warm. “I could never forget you, Lia. You know that.”
She tried to smile. Of course he would forget her. After all, she was simply a girl, not yet even sixteen. There would be no reason for him to retain more than the occasional vaguely affectionate memory of her.
But to Lia, Jack was the entire world.
When the small orchestra launched into a new set of dances, they both glanced toward the party below.
“You’d best go do
wn before you’re missed,” she said softly.
“I’ve a few more minutes and you’ve not yet told me how you are.” His gaze traveled over her form. “The hem of your pelisse is soaked.” He reached out and took her hand. “And your fingers are freezing.”
Though she was indeed freezing, she didn’t care. Not when she could spend time with Jack. “I’m fine.”
“Did you cut through the back garden?”
“It’s the best way to get here without being seen.” It meant she’d had to tramp through a foot of snow before she could sneak into the house through his lordship’s library.
He gave a disapproving shake of his head. “We’ve got to get you warm before you go back or you’ll catch a chill.”
“Really, Jack, it’s—”
He forestalled her objection by practically dragging her over to the staircase at the other end of the gallery.
“What are you doing? Someone will see us,” she hissed.
“Only if you keep making so much noise, you goose.”
Lia huffed a bit, pretending to be offended by his high-handed manner. But, actually, she loved it. She’d follow Jack Easton across the River Styx if he asked her.
They crept down the narrow, winding staircase to the corridor below. It ran from the great hall to the east wing, where the library, the breakfast room, and one of the smaller drawing rooms were located. Because no one would be in those rooms at this time of night, the corridor was deserted.
But Richard popped up before them, making Lia gasp.
“Oh, there you are,” Jack said in an easy tone. “Miss Lia rather soaked her pelisse on the way to the house, so I’m taking her to the library to warm up before she returns to the cottage.”