Three Weeks with a Princess

by Vanessa Kelly

  He leaned against the back of the settee and crossed his arms, putting a bit of distance between them. While she knew she should be relieved, she missed his warmth and the sense that when he was near, nothing could truly hurt her.

  But that was an illusion. Soon Jack would be gone from her life forever.

  “Whatever it is, you’d better tell me and get it over with,” he said calmly.

  “It’s . . . it’s about my mother.”

  He nodded encouragingly.

  “And your father.”

  Jack didn’t move, but his big body seemed to tense up. “Go on.”

  As she retold the sordid story, his expression barely changed. A slight frown descended on his brow, but he didn’t interrupt her and didn’t seem nearly as appalled as she thought he would be.

  “So you see,” she said in conclusion, “I could never marry you, even if all our other problems were solved. Your mother hates all the Kincaid women, and rightfully so. You could never ask her to accept me into the family after what my grandmother and mother have done to her.”

  “I understand the point about your dear mama,” he said, “but neither you nor Rebecca have ever done anything to hurt my mother. It’s nonsense to think otherwise.”

  She couldn’t keep her mouth from dropping open. “But you know how much it hurt Lady John to have Granny installed at Stonefell. It made things very difficult for your entire family for years.”

  He shrugged. “The relationship my uncle had with Rebecca was their business and theirs alone. As much as my mother disliked it, it really had very little impact on her life.”

  “How can you say that?” Lia exclaimed. “She hated coming to Stonefell because of it.”

  His mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “I’ll tell you a secret, my darling. My mother hated going to Stonefell because she loathes the country and always has. To a considerable extent, she used Rebecca’s presence as an excuse to avoid visits to the old place.”

  “Really?” she asked doubtfully.

  “Really. And if I’d known you worried about it so much as a child, I would have told you so years ago. As for my mother’s resentment of you, I refuse to accept it. You are an innocent party in all of this, Lia, just as my sister is.”

  “As are you,” Lia added softly. “Your sister told me yesterday that we were not well-served by our elders.”

  “She was correct.”

  Jack had barely batted an eyelash when she’d told him about the affair. It didn’t make sense, unless . . .

  “Jack, you didn’t seem very surprised by what I told you about my mother and Lord John. Did you already know about their affair? Lady Anne said you didn’t.”

  He sighed. “My father made a few veiled comments over the years, as did my uncle. I suppose I didn’t want to think about it, so I never followed up on my suspicions, especially because I knew it would humiliate my mother. So, no, I’m not surprised to hear it confirmed.”

  She grimaced. “I’m so sorry. It was very poorly done of them.”

  “It was, but you have no need to apologize for it.”

  “Well, someone’s got to,” she said. “Your poor mother has suffered greatly as the result of my family’s bad behavior. Asking her to accept me as your wife would poison your relationship with her and I couldn’t live with that.”

  “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  His blasted self-confidence and arrogance made her want to shake him. “You’re not a god, Jack. You can’t just order people about willy-nilly, telling them how they must feel about things—or people.”

  “So you’re going to sacrifice your own happiness to make up for something that happened years ago? To atone for the failings of your mother and my father?”

  “If that’s what it takes. Besides, I don’t think I can face Lady John, not after everything she’s gone through.” In fact, the very notion made her sick to her stomach.

  “I never thought you a coward, Lia,” he said.

  Her anger spiked and she started to jump to her feet. But Jack grabbed her arm and plunked her back down.

  “This discussion is over, Lord Lendale,” she snapped. “Please leave.”

  “Lia, I truly regret the indignity my mother suffered, but I will not sacrifice my life—or yours—to make up for it. I’ve already lived through my parents’ unhappy marriage. One relationship of that nature was sufficient; I have no intention of repeating their mistakes. Is that clear?”

  “Jack, it’s not as if you truly want to marry me. You’re just doing it because you have to.”

  He grimaced. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  She yanked herself out of his grip and clambered awkwardly to her feet, turning her back on him. It was the truth, but that didn’t make it any easier to say. Yes, he had a great deal of affection for her and wanted to keep her safe, but he only wished to marry her because he’d compromised her. It was a terrible basis on which to begin a marriage, whether he realized it or not. Eventually, he might even come to resent her, which would all but destroy her.

  Lia heard him come to his feet.

  “It’s far from the truth.” His big hands came to rest on her shoulders. “I do want to marry you. Very much.”

  Her eyes started to itch with incipient tears, but she forced herself to remain firm. “It doesn’t matter because I have no intention of marrying you.”

  He gently turned her and tipped up her chin, making her look at him. His gaze was so tender that she could almost believe he truly did love her in the way she wanted to be loved. And that tore her heart into a thousand little shreds of tattered lace.

  “Do you know why I came to call tonight?” he asked.

  “So you could annoy me?”

  His laugh was low and husky, sending flutters of pleasure deep in her belly despite her seesawing emotions.

  “No, it’s because I couldn’t wait days, much less three weeks, to sort this out,” he said. “I want you, Lia, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. We’re going to settle this tonight, once and for all.”

  When he lowered his head to kiss her, Lia’s thoughts scattered like dandelion puffs on the breeze. She told herself to move, to shove him away, but her limbs refused to respond.

  Just as his lips touched hers, an earsplitting wail came from behind them. They sprang apart as if a giant had thrust his hands between them and tossed them away from each other.

  “Bloody hell,” Jack muttered. “That probably took ten years off my life.”

  Lia pressed both hands to her chest, gasping as her heart pounded against her rib cage. “Dom does have a rather healthy cry,” she said with a quavering voice.

  As she went to retrieve the baby, she told herself it was for the best that he’d woken up and interrupted them. Kissing Jack would be so dangerous. Once she started, she likely wouldn’t be able to stop.

  And she knew very well where that would lead.

  “There, there, darling,” she said in a soothing voice as she picked Dom up. She cradled him against her shoulder, patting his back. He started to settle, gave a little hiccup, and then proceeded to spew up his dinner all over the front of her dress.

  Jack took one look at her and burst into laughter.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lia stared down at her bodice, then looked at Jack, who was practically doubled over with mirth. Sighing, she fumbled for her kerchief and wiped the baby’s chin. Dom now seemed as happy as a robin in springtime, despite his little mishap. He chortled as she cleaned him up, waving his fists with glee.

  “I don’t know why you find this so amusing,” she said to Jack in a grumpy tone. “Babies throw up all the time. It’s what they do.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, trying to contain himself. “It’s just that I finally had the chance to woo you in an appropriately romantic fashion, only to have young Dominic decide to interrupt us so emphatically. It’s rather ridiculous, you must admit.”

  She g
rimaced as she dabbed at her bodice. Lia had only worn the lovely primrose gown twice and suspected it would never be the same, even after a thorough cleaning.

  “I think it’s very mean of you to laugh at my predicament,” she said, trying to maintain her dignity. It was a challenge because Dom now had grabbed her hair and was yanking with a fair degree of enthusiasm.

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “But I can’t help wondering how many courtesans find themselves in this sort of position. It would be rather off-putting to the average lover, you have to admit.”

  Lia was beginning to wonder if she did have the necessary skills or even the luck to become a successful courtesan. So far, she’d been an utter failure, and this silly incident seemed to underscore that point.

  “Now, darling, don’t pull my hair,” she said in coaxing voice to Dom. She tried to ease a lock away from him, but he had a tenacious grip for one so small. “You don’t want to—ouch!”

  The baby yanked so hard it made her eyes water. Or so Lia told herself. Truthfully, though, she was close to succumbing to an inconvenient bout of tears. She rarely cried, but the stresses of the last several weeks were finally catching up to her, and at the worst possible moment. It would make Jack even more convinced she was completely inept and that he needed to take care of her.

  “Here, pass me the little imp before he hurts you,” he said, reaching for the baby.

  “He’s a complete mess. He’ll ruin your coat.”

  “He’s not as messy as you are.” He gently pried the baby’s fingers apart. “You’re a disaster.”

  Even though he was joking, tears pricked her eyes. It wasn’t just her dress that was a disaster—it was her entire life.

  “Come here, scamp,” he said, lifting the baby into his arms. Dom went happily enough, transferring his interest from Lia’s coiffure to Jack’s cravat.

  “I told you,” she said dolefully as she watched the baby demolish the neckcloth’s crisp folds.

  Jack gave her an assessing glance. “It’s just a cravat, love. Now, sit down and rest for a moment.”

  “I should go up and get changed.”

  “Sit,” he said in a stern voice.

  And she did, likely because she didn’t have the strength to argue.

  Jack carried Dom out to the hall. She heard him talking to Smithwell, and then he returned without the baby, locking the door behind him. If she’d had her wits in any kind of order she’d no doubt be alarmed by that particular action, but all her energy was currently focused on not covering her face with a pillow and sobbing hysterically.

  “You gave the baby to Smithwell?” she asked as he joined her.

  “He was appropriately appalled by Dom’s unfortunate state, but I have every confidence he’ll be able to handle the situation. Besides, there’s a houseful of staff to assist him.”

  “You should have let me take him up. I have to change anyway.” She lifted her lace collar and tentatively sniffed. “I smell ghastly and this dress is ruined. It’s one of my favorites, too.” Her voice wobbled.

  He gently arranged her so that her back was facing him. “I’ll buy you a new one just like it,” he said as he started to unbutton her dress.

  “Jack, wh-what are you doing?”

  “I’m getting you out of this. You’re the one who said you smell ghastly.”

  “You cannot undress me in Aunt Chloe’s drawing room. You should just go.”

  “One, I have no intention of leaving, not until we finish our discussion.”

  She felt a tear slip down her cheek. “Must we?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he said, not sounding the least bit regretful. He reached around and pulled her sleeves down her arms, enveloping her in his warmth. Lia had to fight the urge to lean against his broad chest, seeking refuge.

  “What’s two?” she whispered, as he pulled the dress down to her hips. He urged her up a bit and whisked it from under her. She shivered slightly, more from nerves than from the air hitting her exposed skin.

  “Hmm?” he asked as he rolled up the garment and placed it on the floor.

  “You already told me number one. What’s number two?”

  He turned her to face him, his big hands curling around her shoulders. She looked up into his beloved, handsome face. His expression was both amused and tender and she wanted him so much that her entire soul ached with yearning.

  “Ah. Number two is that I’m definitely going to undress you in the drawing room. You needn’t worry, love. No one will interrupt us.”

  “It’s not that,” she said miserably. “I just don’t think—”

  “Why are you crying, sweet girl?” he murmured, tracing a gentle finger across her damp cheek. “I’ve told you everything will be fine.”

  She shrugged. The fact that she truly didn’t know Jack’s mind made her feel both self-conscious and vulnerable. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d laid his heart at her feet or made ardent declarations. Mostly, he delivered well-meaning but irritating lectures, which he seemed to think was enough to settle matters between them.

  It wasn’t.

  “I don’t know,” she hedged. “I suppose I’m just tired.”

  He smoothed a hand down her neck and let it rest across the top of her chest, solid and comforting. “And perhaps a bit worried?”

  She managed a choking sort of laugh. “A bit? Everything’s an absolute fright and you know it.”

  His slow smile tilted up a corner of his mouth. “Shall I kiss it and make it all better?”

  Lia rubbed her cheek as another tear fell. “You can’t. It’s simply not possible.”

  “That sounds like a challenge to me, and you know I can never refuse a challenge.”

  “Jack—”

  He swooped down, his mouth devouring the protests that had been about to fall from her lips. She clutched at his shoulders as he took her with a passion she could no longer resist. Her eyes fluttered shut and she sank into the heat and strength of his embrace. It was like coming home after a very long time away and her heart longed to surrender.

  Jack explored her mouth with a thoroughness that pulled a whimper from deep in her throat. Desire swept aside every argument, every fear, every barrier she’d erected against him. When he sucked her tongue into his mouth, she finally succumbed, ravished by the wet, delicious slide. It was a dominating kiss, one that said he would take what he wanted, when he wanted—and damn anyone who stood in his way.

  But when one of his hands slipped down to her breast, a wisp of sanity penetrated her dazed brain. Her eyes popped open and she jerked back.

  Jack’s gaze displayed equal parts heat and irritation. “What’s wrong now?” His husky growl was laced with masculine ire.

  If she weren’t feeling breathless, Lia might have laughed at his surly response. As it was, his low, rasping tone sent a dart of sensation between her thighs.

  “I . . . I don’t think you’ve thought this through, Jack.”

  He snorted and went to work on her stays. “Lia, I’ve been thinking of little else since that day you kissed me in Stonefell’s library.”

  When she tried to bat his hands away, he ignored her ineffectual efforts. “Jack Easton, you cannot make love to me in the drawing room.”

  “Why not?” he asked as he deftly unlaced her.

  “Because . . . because it’s reckless and scandalous and . . . and completely inappropriate for a man of your position.”

  He regarded her with disbelief. “Says the woman who was sauntering about at a Cyprians’ ball.”

  “I was not sauntering about,” she said as she fumbled to hold up her sagging stays.

  He again pushed her hands aside. “I don’t know what else you’d call it.”

  “A complete failure, actually,” she said with a sigh.

  “Not a complete failure.” He eased her stays down to her hips, then stroked the tip of his finger over one of her nipples. It hardened into a little peak, pushing against the soft linen of her chemise. “In fact, I recal
l that parts of it were very successful.” His voice had taken on the low, rumbling quality that made her insides quiver.

  “Jack . . .”

  “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he gently rubbed his palm across the sensitized tip of her breast.

  Lia felt as if she was teetering on the edge of the most wonderful experience of her life—or the most miserable, if she had to walk away from him.

  When he pushed down the strap of her chemise, exposing one of her breasts, she had to swallow hard to get words out of her throat. “I think this is a mistake. A very large, very dangerous mistake.”

  His fingers closed possessively around her breast, searing her with heat and sensation. If she hadn’t been sitting down, she would have instantly collapsed because it felt so wonderful. It took every ounce of willpower not to lean into him.

  “This is the opposite of a mistake,” he said. “This is perfect. You’re everything I want, Lia. Don’t doubt that.”

  “I must doubt it.” Weeks of pent-up emotion forced out the words. “I would bring so little to a marriage between us. I have absolutely nothing to give you.”

  For a moment he looked genuinely shocked. Then his gaze took on an expression of such tenderness that it made her want to weep. He cupped her cheek. “You have your own sweet self, love.”

  She gnawed on her lip, buffeted by conflicting emotions and a desire as strong as a fierce summer storm. When he swooped in, nipping her lower lip before kissing her, Lia shuddered and her body went soft and wet in response.

  “Shall I show you all the wealth you would bring to our marriage?” he murmured against her lips.

  Lia was too muzzy-headed to fully grasp what he meant. But she managed a jerky nod.

  His eyes sparkled with both lust and amusement as he straightened up. “Very well, madam. Let’s get started.” He surprised her by standing and pulling her up. Her loosened stays fell to the floor.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, so I’m going to enumerate your good points, one by one.”

  “That sounds embarrassing and silly,” she grumbled as he pulled the pins from her hair and tossed them onto a side table. Then he struggled out of his coat and casually dropped it on the floor.