The Accidental Princess (12 page)

There were less than twenty-four hours where she would be permitted to make her own decisions. Escort or not, the Graf would not control her actions tonight.

‘I’m going to return the watch,’ she said.

The Graf opened the door for her, gesturing for her maid to accompany them. Lowering his voice, he asserted, ‘Regardless of what there might have been between you once, do not compromise yourself. He cannot wed you.’

Marry Lieutenant Thorpe? A man who had said she was nothing but a complication he didn’t want? Frustration poured through her, and Hannah clenched her fan tightly. ‘You see things which are not there.’

‘I see more clearly than you, it seems. And neither your mother, nor your father, would allow you to speak to a man alone.’

She took a calming breath. ‘I will not be alone. And you insult me by implying that I am trying to seek out an affair.’

‘An affair is all you could ever hope to have with him.’

‘Why? Because you think he’s related to the royal family of Lohenberg?’

The guess was an impulsive prediction, but the Graf’s face paled. ‘Keep such theories to yourself, Lady Hannah.’

She closed her mouth to keep from gaping. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘I have eyes, Lady Hannah. Any Lohenberg native who encounters Lieutenant Thorpe would see it. He looks like König Sweyn, enough to be his son.’

‘You have no proof of his birthright.’

‘No. But I intend to find out the truth.’ He rested his hand upon the stair banister. ‘You should be aware that any contact with him bears a risk.’

She took the remaining steps and rested her hand upon the door leading to the promenade deck. ‘I am returning a watch, nothing more. I see no reason to be afraid.’

As she left, she heard the Graf speaking softly. ‘He has enemies you can’t even comprehend.’

Michael tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, contemplating whether or not he dared ascend to the upper deck. The sea waves were still rough, the ship swaying in spite of the roaring steam engines and paddle wheel.

He wanted fresh air and the coolness of the night. As he entered the upper deck of the
Orpheus,
the rocking motion of the ship became more pronounced. Wind billowed through the sails, and he heard the groaning of ropes straining against their knots.

The game of Forfeit had taken a turn he hadn’t intended. He’d been angry at becoming an object for ladies to bid on. Lord Brentford had practically offered his daughter’s hand in marriage, when he’d only just met the girl. No doubt if she’d won the bid, Miss Nelson would have asked him for a kiss. He wouldn’t have given it. He despised people staring at him with expectations he couldn’t possibly fulfil.

But Lady Hannah had intervened, casting a bid to guard his privacy. She’d faced down the women, protecting him from having to make an idiot out of himself.

There wasn’t a man at the dinner table who hadn’t wanted her to pay their choice of a forfeit. The thought of any man touching her was enough to make him snap a silver fork in half.

She’s not yours. Never will be.

He knew that. And he’d done his best to keep his hands off her. She was a woman of Quality, a diamond who needed a polished setting in order to shine.

But he wasn’t a damned saint. He desired her, knowing exactly the way he wanted to worship her body. He wanted to taste her skin, to run his mouth over her flesh until she cried out with pleasure.

What did it matter whether or not a gentleman bid upon Lady Hannah’s handkerchief? She deserved the opportunity to make a good marriage. Certainly, the gentlemen on board the ship had no idea of the scandal.

For so long, she’d been trapped in her father’s cocoon. Now was her chance to rip away the rigid rules and gain her freedom. He was a selfish bastard, wanting her to surrender to him.

Michael rested his hand upon the wooden railing, staring out at the dark waters. What was it about her that drew him in, like a seedling to the sun? She wasn’t anything like the women he’d known while he was in the Army. Kind-hearted, well-bred and beautiful, she belonged with an English lord who would sleep in a separate bedroom and let her plan the household menus and entertainment.

She didn’t belong with a man like him. A man with baser urges, who would much rather unravel those sensibilities than uphold them.

When he’d made the ridiculous bid of a thousand pounds, it hadn’t been a true charitable contribution. It had been a warning to the other men to stay away from Lady Hannah, or they would regret it. Like a beast marking his territory, he’d laid claim to her.

But now what was he supposed to do?

Footsteps sounded behind him. He didn’t turn around, expecting Hannah to move beside him.

Instead, a rope slid around his neck. Stars glimmered in his consciousness, his lungs burning for air. Michael fought against the tight noose, throwing himself to the decking and knocking his assailant’s feet beneath him.

Tearing the rope away, he reached for the man, intending to find out what in God’s name was going on.

A
strong wave shook the ship, and Michael skidded backwards. His head struck one of the masts, and he grimaced at the impact. Salt water sprayed the deck, while in the distance, he heard the crew shouting orders to one another.

When he scrambled to the place where he’d been attacked, there was nothing. Not a trace of the man, as though his assailant had been a phantom. Only the raw abrasions on his throat gave any evidence that he’d very nearly been strangled.

‘Lieutenant Thorpe?’ Lady Hannah called out to him. She hadn’t seen what had happened, from the questioning tone of her voice.

Michael didn’t turn, his attention fully upon the shadows. He didn’t want to endanger Hannah if his attacker returned.

‘Is everything all right?’ she enquired, drawing closer to stand beside him. ‘You seem distracted.’

‘I’m fine.’ His voice came out hoarser than he’d intended, and he coughed to disguise it. He withdrew her handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and offered it back. She took it, handing him his watch. Her fingers lingered upon his palm.

Behind him, he heard a slight shuffling. He didn’t know
whether it was another passenger or the assailant, but he didn’t intend to remain standing about.

‘We need to get off the upper deck. Now.’ Without waiting to find out who the intruder was, he grasped Hannah’s hand and pulled her through a door. The stairs led to the private state rooms, and Michael continued through the maze of first-class rooms until he located hers. Thankfully, she didn’t argue with him, but let him escort her back.

‘Where is your maid?’ he demanded. ‘Why are you alone?’

‘I dismissed her to our room a few moments ago. I didn’t think—’

‘It’s not safe for you to be alone on this ship. Not ever.’ Though he didn’t mean to snap at her, he didn’t want her risking her well-being on his behalf.

Before he could open the door to her room, Hannah reached up to his neck. ‘Dear God, what happened to you? You’re bleeding and the skin is raw.’

‘Don’t concern yourself over it.’

He was about to leave when she held up her hand. ‘Wait over there while I send away my maid and Mrs Turner. And if you disappear, so help me, I will seek you out. We are not finished talking.’

He didn’t doubt that. She was stubborn, far more than was good for her. But once she had entered her room, he ducked behind the corner to wait.

Several minutes later, the cabin door opened, and he saw her maid Estelle leading the way down the hall, followed by Mrs Turner. Michael waited until the women reached the far end, and then approached Hannah’s door.

She stood waiting for him, her expression hesitant. He knew, as she did, that it was entirely improper for him to even be near her cabin, much less inside it.

‘You didn’t need to send them away.’

‘You wouldn’t tell me the truth if they were here. And it’s
best if no one knows about our conversation.’ Hannah steeled her posture, nodding. ‘Come in and let me tend that for you.’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned and went to her dressing table.

She poured water into a basin, dipping her handkerchief into the liquid. When she risked a glance at his neck, she gave a perceptible wince. Though her intentions were good, he doubted if she’d ever tended a wound before in her life. To avoid embarrassing her, he took the damp cloth from her and swabbed at his throat, surprised that there was more blood than he’d thought.

‘Tell me what happened,’ she demanded, keeping her gaze firmly fixed upon his eyes and not the abrasions. ‘I want the truth.’

‘Someone tried to strangle me, just before you came.’

‘Were they trying to rob you?’

‘Trying to kill me, more like,’ he admitted.

She froze, her hands falling away. Her complexion paled, and she clenched her fingertips. ‘Do you really believe that?’

‘It’s not the first time someone has tried to do so,’ he admitted. ‘Usually it was someone on the opposite side of the battlefield.’ Reaching out for one of her hands, he asked, ‘Are you afraid he’ll come after you as well?’

Her hand was cool within his, and she swallowed, as if trying to find her courage. ‘Would you protect me if he did?’

His lips curved slightly. ‘What do you think?’

She didn’t answer, but tried to pull her hand back. He retrieved the damp handkerchief and touched the raw skin at his throat again.

Hannah stopped him, her hand bumping against his. ‘Wait. You’re missing it.’

Without asking permission, she loosened his collar, untying his cravat to reveal his skin.

Though the water was probably cold, he hardly felt the temperature. Instead, he was intensely aware of Hannah stand
ing between his legs, her hands upon his skin. He was growing aroused, just being near her. The green gown she wore accentuated the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist. But it was her innocence that was even more alluring. She didn’t seem to understand what her simple touch was doing to him.

Awkwardly, she dabbed at his flesh, her lower lip caught between her teeth as though trying to overcome her distaste for blood. He held himself motionless, willing himself not to respond.

‘Why would anyone want to kill you?’ she asked. A slight shiver crossed over her before she studied his skin, searching for any other wounds.

He didn’t answer, offering a shrug.

‘Someone believes it’s true,’ she murmured. ‘That you have royal blood.’

Michael didn’t acknowledge her guess, though he agreed with her prediction. There was no other reason for anyone to kill him.

‘Fairy tales aren’t true, Hannah. A common soldier doesn’t simply become a Prince.’

He could smell the faint scent of jasmine, and when she’d finished washing his throat, she kept her hands upon his shoulders. ‘Unless he already was a Prince. And didn’t know it.’

Catching her wrists, Michael drew her hands away. ‘Don’t do this, Hannah.’

Confusion clouded her gaze. Then abruptly, she seemed to grasp his meaning. Her face coloured, first with embarrassment, then anger.

‘Were you trying to make a fool of me?’ she demanded. ‘Bidding a thousand pounds for a handkerchief?’

He kept his mouth shut, with no intention of explaining himself.

‘You made them believe that we were lovers. That I’d given myself to you.’

‘Is that what you’re doing?’ He stood up so suddenly that her hands fell away.

He needed her to realise that she was tempting the devil, whether or not she intended to do so. Possibly frighten her a little, so she wouldn’t risk coming too close.

‘You had no right to blemish my reputation before all of those people,’ she whispered. ‘I left London to start over again. And now they are talking about us.’ She stepped backwards, her hands clenched.

He stared hard at her, willing her to see the truth. ‘You don’t want your freedom as much as you think you do. You like the rules you pretend to despise.’

She held still, like a wild animal about to flee. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘I understand perfectly.’ He closed the distance, resting his hands on the wall behind her. ‘You want it both ways, don’t you? You want them to believe you’re a lady, when you secretly desire something else.’

‘No. That’s not it.’ She shielded herself with her arms, hugging them to her chest.

He let his hands slide down to her small waist, feeling the tightness of her corset beneath the gown. ‘Why did you bid on the pocket watch?’

She looked guilty. ‘Because I didn’t want the women treating you that way. Like a piece of meat fought over by dogs.’

‘I don’t care about what other people think of me.’

‘Perhaps you should.’ Her breath hitched when his hands slid up her spine once more. ‘You’re not at all the man you pretend to be.’

‘I’m the kind of man you shouldn’t be alone with.’ Lowering his mouth to her chin, he let his mouth nip the edge of her flesh. He tasted the light sweetness of sherry upon her mouth and waited for her to strike out at him. The kiss made her tremble, but again, she didn’t order him to leave.

Instead, her eyes filled with indecision, almost as if she were considering letting him ruin her.

‘You’d better find that candlestick,’ he warned. ‘Or I won’t be responsible for what happens. I’m going to take that forfeit now.’

‘You would never harm me,’ she whispered. To emphasise her prediction, she rested her palms upon his heart. The slight touch made the muscle contract faster within his chest.

He wasn’t quite so confident. Just being near her, touching her in this way, was making it difficult to concentrate.

Her scent was shredding his restraint, and he realized she was waiting for him to act. Her mouth was softened, slightly open in anticipation. But he didn’t take her offering. Not yet.

He pressed his mouth to her throat, kissing a path down to her exposed collarbone. She shuddered in his arms, not offering a single protest.

The taste of her skin, the way her palms moved up to cup his neck…he wasn’t certain he would be able to stop if she let things go much further.

Michael removed his gloves, letting them fall to the floor. His hands moved to the back of her gown, unbuttoning the first few buttons. ‘This isn’t part of the forfeit any more.’ He grazed her shoulder with his teeth, kissing the soft place and evoking a sigh from her throat. ‘Order me to leave.’

One word, and he would go. She could lie in her nightdress tonight and imagine the things he wanted to do to her. But she would remain untouched.

‘I’m going to take my forfeit, too,’ she whispered. ‘You’re going to make me forget all the rules.’

Deliberately, she caressed his head, bringing her hands back down to his shoulders. Her touch made his body tighten with a greater frustration.

He unfastened another three buttons, baring more silken
skin, before tilting her face to look at him. Her body had been touched by no other man, he was certain. Only him.

He didn’t know why she was letting him take such liberties, but he suspected she wasn’t thinking clearly. ‘Do you want another kiss as your forfeit from me?’

She inhaled sharply when his bare palm touched her back. ‘Yes.’

He smiled against her mouth and guided her to sit down. He knelt down at her feet, reaching for her ankles.

‘Wh-what are you doing?’ She held down her skirts, her face pale.

‘I’m going to kiss you, all right.’ Michael slid his hands up her calves, his palms caressing the silken stockings. ‘But you never said where.’

‘No. That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t intending for you to—to ruin me.’

‘I’m not going to ruin you, sweet. I’m going to pleasure you. Unless you’re too afraid?’

She had gone so pale, her fingers dug into the arms of the chair. And though it was painful to stop this wicked game, he started to draw back. His desire for her was strained to the breaking point, so it was probably for the best.

She shocked him by bringing his mouth to hers. Against his lips, she whispered, ‘I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life. But I don’t want you to stop.’

God forgive him for what he was about to do. Michael took her mouth hard, kissing her roughly. He pulled her body tightly to his, letting her legs fall open around his waist. Her shoulders rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath. To ease her, he unlaced more of her corset.

‘But what if someone comes—?’

He kissed another bit of revealed skin, swirling his tongue over it. ‘The risk makes it more arousing.’

She shivered in his arms, and he could almost hear the
second thoughts racing through her mind. ‘I shouldn’t let you do this. I know it’s wrong.’

‘But it feels good to you.’

She lowered her head, as if in surrender. ‘Yes. And I’m beginning to wonder what I have left to lose.’

‘You would lose far too much.’ He took her hands, lifting them to her bodice. Her palms cupped her own breasts, and he held them in place, forcing her to touch herself the way he wanted to.

Though her nipples were beneath the heavy corset, he knew her mind was imagining the sensation.

‘You’re tempting me down a path I should never tread.’

‘I’m a sinner. I live for temptation.’

Hannah leaned back against him, letting him guide her hands. It was hard to breathe, the room swimming in heady sensations.

She never should have let Michael enter her room. Her mother’s warnings haunted her, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away. Not yet.

This forbidden pleasure coursed through her, for she’d never been touched like this before. She didn’t even know such feelings existed. Her body was hot, the skin fiery and unbearably sensitive. Between her legs, she felt empty, swollen and aching. And yet she knew that, regardless of what he said, Michael would stop at any time she asked.

He might be a man who neglected the rules of propriety when it suited him, but beneath it all he possessed an unfailing honour.

With her last vestiges of control, she pushed him back, away from the chair. She stood, needing to know whether she was making the right choice to be with him tonight.

As she’d expected, he held back from her, his face expressionless. The black cloth jacket fitted his broad shoulders perfectly, the evening clothes making him even more hand
some. In the lamplight, his hazel eyes were nearly black, heated with desire.

Someone had tried to kill him tonight, yet he gave no indication of being afraid. She supposed soldiers were accustomed to the risk of death. But if someone had just tried to murder her, she would be a sobbing mess.

His strong will and courage intrigued her. Tempted her in ways she didn’t understand.

‘Michael?’ she whispered. She’d never used his first name before, always distancing him with his rank.

‘What?’

Touch me again. Kiss me
. She didn’t say it, the words caught up in a trap of her own morals. And yet, she didn’t want him to leave, as he surely would.

She didn’t know what was coming over her. Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps her desire to make her own decisions. All she knew was that she didn’t want to be alone.

‘What if…I asked you for more than a kiss?’

Michael held so very still, she wondered if she’d made a grave mistake. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as the silence stretched longer.