‘I sincerely hope that is the case. If it is, it means you won’t have to worry about finding a wealthy husband, and I know that is the only reason you were considering Captain Sterne,’ her father said. ‘I was wrong to put the onus for solving the problems of the estate on your shoulders, my dear. As earl, that is my responsibility, and I believe I am blessed in having found such a delightful way of doing so.’
‘I couldn’t be happier, Papa,’ Joanna said, giving him a hug. ‘I will be happy to welcome Mrs Taylor as my stepmother.’
‘Good, because it also means you are free to marry a man you love.’ He smiled and gently set her away. ‘And if I’m not mistaken, you have already found that man.’
Joanna blushed. ‘You knew?’
‘I suspected. I remember the night Bretton gave you the amulet. I heard the longing in your voice when you spoke of him even then.’
‘But what about the difference in our social positions? Will that not cause problems?’
‘Yes, but I have no doubt the two of you will work it out,’ her father said. ‘Your mother and I certainly did, and I would far rather see you marry a man you love than a man you feel obliged to. Society will have a hay day with it, I’ve no doubt, but eventually they’ll find something else to talk about. They always do.’
It was as though the sun had come out after an extended period of grey. Joanna threw her arms around her father’s neck again, hugged him tightly and then started for the door.
‘Should I ask where you are going?’ he called after her.
‘No, but I would have you wish me luck. And please don’t start looking for a new expedition artist just yet!’
* * *
‘So it’s settled,’ Theo said, putting his hand on the thick sheaf of papers that was The Silver Chalice. ‘Sir Michael and I both agree that the play is brilliant, but that there are a few minor revisions to be made before we start into production. Once that’s done, all we have to do is decide when and where it should be staged.’
Laurence leaned his back against the door of his uncle’s office at the Gryphon and tried to keep his focus on the matter at hand. The fact that his uncle and Sir Michael were working together on the play should have been all that mattered, but as always, thoughts of Joanna took precedence over anything his heart considered of less importance.
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ Theo called.
‘Pardon me, Mr Templeton,’ a stage hand said, opening the door a crack, ‘but there’s someone to see Mr Bretton. Says her name’s Lady Joanna Northrup.’
‘Joanna?’ Laurence got up and, opening the door, saw her standing a few feet beyond. ‘Joanna!’
‘Well, I believe that’s my cue to leave.’ Theo put his hands on his knees and stood up. ‘Come along, Mr Belkins, it’s time we checked on the progress of that new backdrop.’
Laurence knew it was an excuse, but he wasn’t about to complain. As soon as the two men left, he took Joanna by the hand and drew her into the office. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I had to come.’ Joanna’s voice sounded breathless, as though she’d run all the way from Eaton Place. ‘You left my aunt’s house before you had time to finish the conversation we were having. The one in which you were about to tell me...how you felt about me.’
‘I am sorry,’ Laurence said, gazing down at her, hardly able to believe that she was standing right in front of him. ‘I would have told you I was in hopelessly love with you if I’d had a few more minutes alone with you, but I didn’t think you’d wish to hear something like that in front of Mrs Gavin and her daughter.’
‘No, I most certainly would not,’ Joanna agreed. ‘I would prefer that we be alone, as we are now. But...are you quite sure you love me?’
‘There is absolutely no doubt in my mind,’ Laurence said. ‘I fell in love with you the night of your father’s lecture and my feelings have only been growing stronger ever since. But before I show you how much I love you, there is something else I need to say. You are not the only one who knows the truth about Valentine Lawe. I went to see Sir Michael Loftus yesterday and told him the whole story.’
‘You told a theatre critic who writes for the Morning Chronicle that you were not Valentine Lawe?’ Joanna said incredulously. ‘Oh, Laurence, why ever did you do it?’
‘Because I wanted you to know that being honest with you was more important to me than having to deal with what society thinks. And the only way I could prove that was by going to Sir Michael and admitting that what I’d told him that day in the drawing room was a lie.’
‘You dear man, what a noble thing to do. But what about your sisters? What will happen to them when society finds out the truth?’
‘No one is going to find out, though if they do, we will deal with it,’ Laurence said, convinced that the family was strong enough now to deal with anything that came their way. ‘Sir Michael assured me he has no intention of making this public. He seems to think theatre lovers don’t care who Valentine Lawe is as long as the plays keep coming. He really is quite a decent chap once you get to know him.’
‘I am so relieved,’ Joanna said. ‘And so incredibly touched you would do this for me. That you would put so much at risk for my sake.’
‘It was the only way I could convince you of how much I loved you,’ Laurence said, wondering how he was managing not to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. ‘I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, Joanna. Because I do want to marry you, even though you haven’t given me any idea as to how you feel about me.’
The happiness on her face lit up the entire room. ‘Darling man, I love you! I was sure I had given myself away countless times over the past few weeks.’
‘Not once.’ He tipped her face up to his, knowing he would never get tired of seeing those enchanting green eyes. ‘I’ve known talented actresses who weren’t half as convincing as you.’
‘Obviously they weren’t half as motivated.’
‘Obviously. But what about Captain Sterne? I thought you were going to marry him in order to save your father’s estate.’
‘I was, until I found out what a detestable man he is. You were right, Laurence. He never had any intention of allowing me to go to Egypt with him after we were married. He only said that so that I might look more favourably upon his suit. And I did for a while, thinking it was the answer to Papa’s problems. But I couldn’t have gone through with it. I don’t want to settle for a convenient marriage. I want to be passionately in love with my husband, the way I am with you. And I don’t want there to be any secrets.’
‘Darling Joanna, you know all my secrets now,’ Laurence said, before telling her, in the most convincing way possible, that there would never be any secrets between them again.
‘Are you sure you won’t mind being the wife of a playwright?’ he murmured against her lips some time later.
‘As long as you don’t mind being the husband of an artist.’
‘I think I can bear it. But there is one more thing I want to tell you. I’ve spoken to my uncle and we’ve agreed that whatever profits we make on the new play will go to you to help cover your father’s debts.’
‘Oh, Laurence, what an incredibly generous thing to do—’
‘Wait, hear me out,’ Laurence said. ‘Quite some time ago, I came into an inheritance. It was...an unexpected windfall to say the least, but my uncle invested it and it has performed rather well in the intervening years. And while it may not be enough to completely cover your father’s debts, it will go a long way towards paying them down.’
‘You would do that for me?’ Joanna whispered.
‘I would do anything and everything I could to make you happy as my wife,’ Laurence said. ‘You are going to marry me, aren’t you, Joanna? In spite of the fact that I don’t come with an impressive title or a fancy carriage.’
Joanna laughed, then, drawing his head down to hers, did her very best to banish any lingering doubts he might have had.
Laurence finally groaned and pushed her away. ‘I think, my beautiful muse, that if we don’t wish to end up doing something that should by all rights be reserved for our wedding night, I had best keep my distance. I cannot vouch for my will-power when you kiss me like that.’
Joanna laughed again and, obviously not caring a wit for his will-power, snuggled back into his arms. ‘I have never been anyone’s muse before, but perhaps the gift of language has become mine as well.’ She gazed up at him and quoted softly, ‘“My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep, the more I give to thee.”’
Laurence smiled and drew her close, loving the feeling of her body pressed against him. ‘Dearest girl, you can quote the old Bard to me any time you like, but when it comes to loving you, I intend to make sure that nobody—not even Valentine Lawe—does it better!’
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Accidental Prince by Michelle Willingham.
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Chapter One
The outer borders of Lohenberg—1855
Karl von Lohenberg had always been a bastard. For twenty-five years, he’d merely thought it was a personality disorder rather than a reflection of his birth.
He’d been raised to believe he was a prince, the fürst, who would one day be king of Lohenberg. And only a fortnight ago, one word had stripped away his future: bastard.
His father had ordered him out of the palace, granting him land and a manor house near the borders, as if to say: hide him where he won’t cause any trouble.
Bitterness smouldered within him, at the way they’d turned their backs on him so quickly. Did they believe he was planning to kill or overthrow the true prince? Were the years of obedience and loyalty nothing to the king and queen? They treated him like a lighted fuse, leading to a keg of gunpowder.
Karl was stronger than that. He knew, well enough, that he’d never regain the throne of Lohenberg. It rightfully belonged to his half-brother Michael, and he wouldn’t blacken the royal family or his country with scandal, fighting for something that wasn’t his.
He’d given his life to his homeland, believing that one day he would be king, responsible for the lives of many. He liked being in command, and by God, he’d been good at it.
Fate might have picked him up by the collar and beaten him into a bloody mass, but he wasn’t about to slink quietly into the shadows to lick his wounds. This was his life, and he intended to live it on his own terms.
For there was another way to restore his position. Cold-hearted and villainous, yes, but it was a solution.
He simply had to marry a princess.
Karl reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he’d received a few days ago like the shred of hope it represented. His betrothed, Princess Serena of Badenstein, was leaving the palace on an impromptu holiday to her grandfather’s hunting lodge in Hamburg. Alone. The letter from her sister Anna thanked him for his promise to accompany Serena as her protector.
At first, he hadn’t understood the letter. He’d made no such promise, since he’d known nothing about Serena’s plans. They hardly knew one another, for Karl had only met the princess twice in the six years they’d been betrothed. She was beautiful, with a heart-shaped face, dark blond hair, and green eyes that held years of unhappiness.
Not once had he seen her smile. When they’d first met, she’d eyed him with distrust and more than a little fear. He didn’t know what falsehoods her family had told her, but he wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t a man who caused small children to flee into hiding. Usually.
Why would the princess make a journey where her sister felt she needed protection? Wouldn’t she have her father’s guards and a hundred servants to keep her safe?
His instincts warned him that something was wrong with this so-called holiday. It was doubtful that Serena had invited him at all. More likely, the princess had lied to her sister, to appease her.
But Anna had turned the tables, letting Karl know that his bride was up to something. He didn’t doubt that Serena would carry out her plan of leaving the palace, but why was she planning to go alone? Was she running away? Or meeting someone else—a lover, perhaps?
Grimly, Karl folded the letter, his mind taking apart each possibility. It was too soon for anyone in Badenstein to know of his fallen status. At the time Anna had sent this letter, he’d still been the heir to the
Lohenberg throne.
If he joined the Princess on her holiday, as Anna had suggested, his presence might grant her protection—but it would also compromise Serena’s reputation beyond repair. She’d have no choice but to wed him, even if he never laid a hand upon her.
There would be hell to pay afterwards, but he could live with that. Once he became her prince consort, the scandal would eventually die down, and she could live her life as she wished.
Karl stared outside the window of the inn where he and his men were staying. The skies were growing dark, and he was within a few hours’ ride of the palace. In the morning, he would put his plan into action. With any luck, he could claim the princess as his bride before anyone learned the truth about his lost kingdom.
* * *
Serena dragged out the small trunk she’d packed with a few days’ worth of clothing. Today she would leave the palace, seizing the freedom she craved. She would depart Badenstein with a handful of servants and reclaim her life. Although the risk of discovery was terrible, it was worth it.
Beneath her tightly laced corset, her broken ribs had finally healed after so many weeks. Though it sometimes hurt to breathe or to lift her arms above her head, she’d grown accustomed to the pain. And after today, everything would be different.
Serena ran her hands over the brass-bound trunk and then ordered Katarina, one of her most trusted ladies, to ensure that the trunk was placed inside the coach she’d carefully prepared. Her heart was beating so fast, she pressed her hand to her chest as if she could steady it.
She had no doubt it would be only a few days before the messengers alerted the king that she was missing. Nothing escaped his notice, and Serena had to plan this carefully, so as to avoid getting anyone else in trouble.
For now, she would go to her grandfather’s hunting lodge. Her father owned several estates in Badenstein and in Germany, but the lodge was rarely used any more since it had fallen into disrepair. Although they might search for her there, perhaps not until they’d investigated the other houses. It would grant her some time. She hoped to sell some jewels and purchase a small house or property somewhere no one would find her.
Her head spun with all the details, and she worried about being caught. If her father learned of this...she shuddered to imagine it. Princesses were not supposed to run away. And although she had enough loyal servants to help her, it might not be enough.
For now, she would concentrate on getting out of the palace. She couldn’t think too far ahead, or the worries would consume her. One moment at a time, one hour at a time, she decided. And before she left, she needed to see her mother.
Serena chose a single rose from the arrangement in the crystal vase upon the end table. Queen Clara had always loved flowers. During the spring, she often sat in the garden where she could admire the blossoms.
Flanked by her ladies, Serena walked down the long corridor leading to the east wing. Before she reached i
t, two footmen blocked their way and bowed.
‘Your Highness, His Majesty has commanded your presence.’
A layer of ice coated her stomach, but Serena lowered her head in acquiescence, following the footmen to her father’s chambers. Each time the king summoned her, she knew what was coming—a punishment for some imagined misdeed. Every moment she spent in her father’s presence was a mind-numbing game of trying to guess what sort of behaviour would help her to avoid his fists.
No one could protect her from His Majesty. Not the guards or her ladies, for they’d lose their positions. Not her younger sister or her mother, who was confined to a sickbed. She was defenceless against him.
Serena hated the pity in the eyes of the servants, for she didn’t like appearing weak. But after the last beating had left her unable to move, she’d had enough. Six years of suffering was too much to ask of anyone. Nothing would stop her from escaping.
One of her ladies, Katarina, offered her a look of silent support. Serena squeezed the woman’s hand, and then withdrew, needing the time to gather up her courage.
When the footman opened the door and announced her presence, Serena stepped forward. Her father, the king, stood with his back to them. He was a tall man, with greying hair and a physical form that rivalled his best guards. King Ruwald prided himself upon his strength, and he wore close-fitting clothing to show off his muscular arms and legs.
‘Were you planning to go somewhere?’ he asked softly, dismissing his men and her ladies with a hand. Serena curtsied and stared down at the Oriental carpet, her hand clenching her mother’s rose.
Do not make him angry. Be demure and modest in your bearing. And perhaps he’ll leave you alone.
The king moved closer, until he stood directly in front of her. ‘Answer me.’
‘N-no, Father. Of course not.’
‘Don’t lie to me!’ He seized her by the arm, jerking her upright. The grip of his fingers was so tight, she gritted her teeth against the pain.
Gail Whitiker Page 25