Princess in Love (16 page)

Chapter Fifteen

The following evening after dinner, Rose sat with Alexandra in the drawing room while
Randolph and Nicholas enjoyed brandies in the library.

“Do you remember that sweltering afternoon on the archery range,” Rose said, “when
we talked about my marriage?”

Alexandra set her glass of sherry down on the table. “Of course.”

“I have been thinking about it a great deal, and I feel I must speak to Randolph about
it.”

The lamp beside Rose sputtered and hissed as if expressing its disapproval.

Alexandra, however, inclined her head with understanding. “You do not wish to marry
Joseph?”

There was such finality in the honest answer to that question. Rose was not entirely
comfortable with it, but could see no way around it. It was time to bring her feelings
out into the open and make her decision.

“No, I do not.”

“You do not love him?”

Rose shook her head.

“Is there any chance you might grow to love him in time?” Alexandra asked.

Rose took a deep breath. Oh, how she hated this. “I do not believe so, for I have
never felt anything but friendship toward him, and lately the idea of becoming his
wife has caused me a most regrettable distress. In addition to that, I do not wish
to leave Petersbourg. This is my home.”

Alexandra laid a hand on her knee. “Then you must speak to Randolph. I am certain
he would not wish you to be unhappy.”

“That is what I believe as well, but I fear it is dreadfully ill-timed with the Vienna
Congress only a week away. I do not wish to be the cause of poor international relations.
I cannot imagine a worse time to jilt a fiancé—when we are about to negotiate a historic
peace treaty with all the great allied powers.”

Alexandra considered it. “Yes, the timing is most unfortunate. That is why you must
speak to Randolph right away. You must give him time to consider the options.”

Rose’s heart began to pound. “Do you think he would be willing to hear me out this
evening?”

“I don’t see why not.”

At that moment, both her brothers entered the room, and Alexandra gave Rose an encouraging
nod.

*   *   *

“What is it?” Randolph asked. “You look white as a sheet.”

Rose followed him across the library to the settee where she had lain with Leopold
the night before. Her brother handed her a small glass of brandy and urged her to
sit down.

Perhaps this was a poor choice of locations in which to have this conversation, but
it was too late now. She must complete what she had begun.

“I apologize in advance for what I am about to say to you,” she said, “for I know
it will not be welcome news, especially now when you are preparing to leave for Vienna.”

Her hands were trembling when she raised the glass to her lips, but she welcomed the
strong flavor of the brandy as it slid down her throat.

Her brother—her king—sat down at the foot of the settee. “What is wrong? You must
tell me.”

With a deep breath to summon courage, she raised her chin and spoke frankly. “I am
not in love with Archduke Joseph. I don’t love him. I never did.”

Randolph stared at her for a long time, unblinking, then frowned in the suddenly hellish-looking
firelight.

“Please speak to me,” Rose said. “I cannot bear to think I am a disappointment to
you. I do not wish to be, but we have always been honest with each other, so I must
confess my true feelings.”

“What are they exactly?” he asked. “You tell me you do not love the man you agreed
to marry. Is there more to it than that? Do you not wish to marry him?”

She set the crystal glass down on a bookshelf behind her and steeled her nerves for
what was to come, for she could not back down now.

“No, I do not wish to be his wife. I have only feelings of friendship toward him,
and I am hoping with all my heart that you of all people will understand, for not
so long ago you left Petersbourg and masqueraded as Nicholas in order to find a bride
who would love you for yourself. You went to great lengths to avoid a political marriage.
Yet now you ask me to carry that burden, when all I really want is to have a husband
who loves me passionately, as you love Alexandra. I do not believe Joseph is that
man.”

“But he is an honorable gentleman and would never treat you unkindly. I would not
have encouraged the match otherwise. Do you not find him handsome enough? Is that
the problem?”

“No, he is very good-looking, and I agree that he is a decent and kindhearted man.
I know it in my head, but it is my heart that desires a different sort of love.” She
stood up. “I want what
you
have. I want passion and devotion. I want to marry a man who would lay down his life
for me.”

“Perhaps Joseph would, if you gave him a chance.”

She moved to the window and looked out at the moon, which was bright and full in the
incredible star-speckled night sky. All she wanted to do was dash out of the palace
this very instant and find Leopold waiting for her in his curricle beyond the cedar
hedge, but it was not to be. At least not tonight.

She heard Randolph rise and pour himself a drink from the crystal decanter on the
drinks tray. “You haven’t seen your fiancé in months,” he said. “How could you possibly
know how you feel about him?”

Rose whirled around to face her brother. “I know my heart,” she told him. “I am not
a child any longer. I am a woman. I know what I feel, and I do not appreciate your
condescending tone.”

Randolph regarded her with astonishment and set down his glass.

“Do you realize what you are asking me to do? You want me to break off your engagement
to the eldest son of the Austrian emperor? Francis is hosting the Congress, for pity’s
sake! Austria is one of the greatest nations in Europe. Have you no care for the future
of your country?”

“You are a fine one to talk,” she argued. “When you married Alexandra, you had no
idea how the people would respond to her. You even did so without Father’s permission
or blessing because you were mad for her. You would have eloped to Scotland if you
had to, so I beg of you, Randolph, to understand that I cannot sacrifice my happiness
by marrying out of duty. I want more than that. I want to choose for myself.”

He returned to the settee, sank down onto it, leaned forward and rested his elbows
on his knees. He bowed his head and raked a hand through his hair.

“Christ, what a mess this is going to be.” He looked up suddenly and frowned. “Is
there someone else, Rose? By God, if any man has dared to encourage your affections
while you were engaged to another, I will strangle him with my bare hands.”

More than a little taken aback, Rose swallowed uneasily. “No, of course there is no
one.” The lie slid over her lips before she had a chance to fully comprehend the fact
that she had lied not only to her brother, but to her king. But she could not reveal
the truth to him when he was in such a mood. God knows what he would do to Leopold.
All hope would be lost.

No, she must be released from her engagement first. Then, and only then, could she
present Leopold as a possible husband.

Moving closer to sit down beside her brother, she cautiously asked, “What are you
going to do? Will you tell Joseph when you arrive in Vienna? Or should I come with
you and speak to him myself?”

Randolph laid his hand on hers. “No, it would be best if you wrote him a letter, which
I will deliver to him personally.”

“But I would prefer to come.”

“No, Rose. I need you to stay here with Alexandra. She is still so new to the country.
She needs the company of those who care about her. I don’t know how long I will be
gone. The Congress could last weeks, even months, if there is conflict between the
nations.”

“Really? That long?” Her thoughts flew instantly—as they always did—to Leopold. It
seemed as if she had been waiting forever to be with him, and now it could drag on
even longer.

“Are you sure about this?” Randolph asked. “Because if it is what you truly want,
I will respect your wishes, but perhaps if you give it some time, you might grow to
love Joseph.”

“No,” she firmly said. “There is someone else out there for me. Someone who will love
me the way you and Alexandra love each other. That is what I want, and I won’t change
my mind.”

She pulled the engagement ring from her finger, took one last look at how it sparkled
in the candlelight, and handed to her brother.

He slipped it into his pocket, then put his arm around her, pulled her close and kissed
the top of her head. “What do you think Father would say if he were here? Would he
have talked you into staying the course?”

She almost laughed out loud. “No. He always let me get away with murder. He spoiled
me rotten, and if he were here now, he would have said exactly what you just did.
He would be holding me in his arms, and he would tell me that everything is going
to be all right.”

Randolph squeezed her shoulders. “Then I will say that as well. Everything will be
fine, Rose. I promise … because we Sebastians know how to look out for each other.”

“Indeed,” she replied, “for there are always enemies lurking about, aren’t there?
Skulking about in the shadows … plotting to dethrone us…”

She spoke in jest of course, but felt a cold shiver of unease run down her spine as
the words passed her lips. She wasn’t sure why, and felt compelled to sweep the sensation
away as quickly as she could.

Chapter Sixteen

It was a cloudy day, uncomfortably muggy and damp, when the Petersbourg Palace coach,
followed by an envoy of vehicles carrying servants, secretaries, and a number of court
ministers to advise on the negotiations, drove through the cobblestone streets of
the city on its way to the peace conference in Vienna.

Crowds of onlookers gathered along the city walls to bid farewell to the procession
as it passed by in all its glorious pomp and ceremony.

When at last they crossed the bridge and rolled onto the old coach road that would
take them through endless meadows and forests, Randolph removed his hat and tipped
his head back on the upholstered seat.

“This is going to be a difficult conference,” he said. “When do you suggest I deliver
the letter to Joseph? As soon as we arrive, I suppose. It wouldn’t do to put it off.
I cannot very well behave as if all is well. Heaven forbid he should wish to discuss
wedding plans.”

“That would be awkward indeed,” Nicholas agreed. “But are you certain about this?
You don’t think it is simply a case of cold feet on Rose’s part?”

Rand shook his head. “You know our sister. She’s always known what she wants and will
settle for nothing less. I cannot bring myself to force her into matrimony. I wouldn’t
want to, and to be completely honest, a part of me is relieved. I was dreading the
day when we’d have to pack her off to another country. It’s so bloody far away, and
besides that, I was having some trouble with the notion of her marrying into the same
family that offered one of their own daughters as a wife to Napoleon. Could you ever
imagine Father doing such a thing to Rose?”

“No, but those days are over,” Nicholas reminded him. “Austria is no longer at the
mercy of that tyrant. Francis regained his honor at Leipzig.”

The coach rumbled noisily for a while along the rutted dirt road.

“You don’t suppose this has something to do with Cavanaugh again, do you?” Nicholas
asked, sitting forward on the seat. “Because it seems odd to me. She liked Joseph
well enough when he came to visit last spring, but ever since that carriage mishap
in England…”

“I asked her if she was in love with anyone else,” Randolph replied, “but she denied
it. Why do you bring it up? Do you truly think she’s hiding something?”

Nick gazed out the window at the passing haystacks in the fields. “Who knows? At any
rate, maybe it doesn’t matter. She wants to choose for herself. I just hope she doesn’t
get hurt again.”

“Like she was hurt last time when she fell for Cavanaugh?”

Both men fell quiet. “Exactly,” Nick replied. “I’ve seen the way she looks at him,
and though she once claimed to hate him, she seems to have forgiven him since we returned
from England.”

“He came to her rescue that night,” Randolph said, “and for that I am grateful.”

“As am I, but I wonder if he has given her some encouragement, and that is why she
has lost interest in her Austrian fiancé. Would you object if she wanted to marry
Cavanaugh?”

Randolph gazed out the window as well, and listened to the sound of the horses’ hooves
clopping along the packed ground. “I suppose not, as long as she waits a respectable
amount of time after her break with the archduke. We wouldn’t want to stir up another
scandal.”

Nicholas agreed. “At least Cavanaugh comes from a long line of illustrious Petersbourg
aristocrats and kings. He’s not a bad choice, actually, and the people adore him since
his return from the war.”

Randolph sighed. “Yes, but let us not forget how he broke her heart once before. I
swear, Nicholas, if he treats her shabbily again, I won’t care a fig about the royal
blood in his veins. I’ll string him up and hang him out to dry.”

Nicholas regarded his brother intently in the swaying coach. “If we’re bringing up
his shortcomings, we shouldn’t neglect to mention that his father has always been
a secret Royalist. To tell you the truth, I’ve never trusted Kaulbach, and never understood
why Father made him president of the Privy Council.”

“Father always believed in the old adage: keep your friends close—”

“And your enemies closer,” Nick finished for him. “Perhaps he thought he could win
his loyalty in time.”

“He did think that, and by all accounts, he succeeded. The duke served him well and
played an important role at Leipzig.”

“As did Leopold.”

Randolph nodded. “Yes, he was brilliant on the battlefield. I cannot imagine we could
have distinguished ourselves nearly so well without him.”