To Charm a Prince (16 page)

“Do as she says,” Rudolf said, looking as irritated as the majordomo. “In the future, do not argue when my wife gives you instructions.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Durwin left the foyer in a hurry.

With a smile on her lips, Samantha turned to the prince. “I was beginning to wonder if you would support me.”

“How could you possibly doubt my loyalty?” Rudolf gave her a devastating smile. “You give orders as if you were born to it.” He gestured in the direction of the dining room, adding, “Let them eat first. They will be more amenable to a thorough cleaning with a full stomach.”

“Their hands are filthy.”

“They have eaten with dirty hands for months,” Rudolf said. “One more meal will make no difference.”

“Your Highness, you are the wisest of men.”

Rudolf gave her a long look, a smile flirting with his lips. “I will remind you of those words one day.”

Grant and Drake were more impressed with the dining room than the foyer. Both boys stood two feet inside the door and surveyed the room from the dining table with seating for twenty to the enormous crystal-and-gold chandelier to the red-and-blue Persian carpet.

“I never saw such a big table,” Grant said.

“I never did either,” Drake said, still holding Samantha’s hand.

Grant rolled his eyes. “If I never did, then you never did.”

“Let’s sit down while we wait for the food,” Samantha said.

“You mean we can really sit there?” Grant asked.

Rudolf put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Did you think we would make you eat from a plate on the floor?”

“You really are my fairy godmother,” Drake said, looking at Samantha with adoration.

Samantha felt an insistent tugging on her heartstrings. She’d always felt insecure because of her leg, but she’d had parents who loved her and couldn’t imagine the loss these boys felt.

Rudolf and Grant sat on one side of the table. Samantha and Drake sat opposite them. Giles chose to sit beside Samantha and rested his head on the table.

“My wife and I play a game by sitting in a different chair each day,” Rudolf told them. “Perhaps you would like to play with us?”

Samantha smiled when both boys nodded their heads vigorously. “Ah, here is the food.”

Beneath the majordomo’s supervision, three footmen walked into the dining room. The first carried a serving bowl filled with mutton hash, the second carried a platter of fried potatoes and onions, and the third carried bread, butter, and gingerbread accompanied by a small bowl filled with clotted cream.

Drake pointed at the gingerbread. “I’ll have some of that, please.”

“The gingerbread is for dessert,” Samantha told him, setting a plate of hash and potatoes in front of him.

“Do you know how to read?” Rudolf asked them.

Both boys shook their heads and kept eating as if they hadn’t had a meal in days.

“I know the alphabet,” Grant said, scooping another spoonful of hash.

“Me, too,” Drake said.

“Do you know how to cipher numbers?” Samantha asked.

Again, the boys shook their heads and shoveled food into their mouths.

“We know about money,” Grant said, his voice muffled with the amount of food inside his mouth.

“We like money,” Drake agreed, his own mouth full.

“You don’t need to put all the food into your mouth at one time.” Samantha glanced at the prince, saying, “We had better add table manners to our list of what they need to learn.”

“What’s that?” Drake asked.

Samantha placed a second helping on a plate for the dog and set it on the floor. “Table manners means how to eat properly—”

“We know how to eat,” Grant told her. “Put food into your mouth, chew it, and swallow.”

Rudolf laughed. “At the moment, you are deleting the chewing.”

“As I was explaining, you need to eat without making everyone nauseous,” Samantha told them.

“What’s nauseous?” Drake asked.

“Nauseous means sick to your stomach.”

“Oh. Like puking?”

“Yes.”

“What should we call you?” Grant asked her.

Mother,
she thought, but said, “You may call me Lady Samantha. The prince is Your Highness.”

“In private, you may call me sir,” Rudolf told them.

“Lady Samantha?”

She looked down at Drake. His enormous dark eyes were deep, fathomless pools. “Yes, dear?”

“Does your leg hurt?”

“Are you referring to my limp?”

Drake nodded.

“When I was a little girl, a coach ran me over,” she told him. “One leg grew slightly shorter than the other, which makes me limp.”

“I bet that hurt,” Grant said.

“Yes, but that was a long time ago,” Samantha said. “I am fine now.”

Drake stopped eating and slipped his hand into hers. “Your leg must hurt sometimes.”

Samantha gave his hand a little squeeze. “When I tire from standing unbalanced for a long time, then my hip aches.”

“You never told me that,” Rudolf said.

“You never asked.” Samantha did not like the pity crouched in the prince’s gaze. “Besides, it really is of no significance.”

Samantha cut two pieces of gingerbread onto plates and then dropped a dollop of clotted cream on each. She passed one to Grant and placed the other in front of Drake.

“What are you doing?” she asked when the eight-year-old lifted the whole piece of gingerbread into his hand.

“I’m putting the gingerbread in my pocket to eat later,” Drake answered.

“That’s a good idea, brother,” Grant said.

Rudolf laughed and caught the boy’s wrist before he lifted the gingerbread off the plate. “If you are too full to eat it now, leave it on your plate.”

“But we’ll lose it,” Grant whined.

“If you want the gingerbread later,” Samantha told him, “you may ask for it.”

“What if that angry man won’t give it back?” Drake asked in a loud whisper.

Samantha burst out laughing and glanced at the majordomo. “You mean Durwin?”

“Shhh.” Grant put a finger across his lips and then whispered, “If he hears us talking about him, he’ll throw us out of the palace.”

“Durwin takes orders from me,” Rudolf told them.

“He does?” the boys exclaimed simultaneously.

Rudolf inclined his head.

“Tell him to stop looking at me,” Grant whined again.

“He gives me the creeps,” Drake said.

Samantha covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud and looked at the prince. He seemed to be struggling against laughter, too.

Drake looked from one to the other and then scolded, “Catching the creeps is no laughing matter.”

At that, Samantha did burst into laughter as did the prince. After the past seven months in society, the boys’ innocence was refreshing, and their banter reminded her of growing up with her sisters.

Samantha flicked a glance at the prince and wondered if he had any pleasant memories from childhood. His father’s and brother’s hatred made that unlikely.

*    *    *

Three tubs filled with steaming water stood in front of the hearth in the Tudor great hall. Several torches on the walls had been lit to chase away the late afternoon’s dimness, the sun having already sunk below the horizon in the west.

“Take off your clothes and climb into those tubs,” Samantha ordered, sounding like a general before her troops. “There are soap and a washing cloth in each tub. Do not forget to clean behind your ears.”

The boys stripped down to nothing and climbed into the tubs. Rudolf lifted their soiled garments off the floor and passed them to the majordomo. “Tell a footman to burn these.”

With a wholly disgusted look on his face, Durwin lifted the garments out of the prince’s hand. He hurried to the hall’s entrance where he passed them off to a footman.

“Giles, get into that tub,” Rudolf ordered, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.

The dog sat at attention and wagged its tail.

“Giles doesn’t understand,” Samantha said.

“Princess, he understands.” Rudolf looked at the dog again, ordering, “Get into the tub.”

Giles lay down on the floor, rested his head on his forelegs, and whined. Samantha and the boys giggled, and the deerhound wagged its tail as if he enjoyed being their entertainment.

Rudolf pointed at the tub. “Giles, get into that tub,”

He ordered in a stern voice. “Now.”

Giles stood and leaped into the tub. Then he plopped down, splashing the prince in the movement.

“Good boy,” Rudolf praised the dog. He called over his shoulder, “Durwin, do you want to wash the dog?”

The majordomo shook his head vigorously. Behind him, the footmen smiled at their superior’s back.

Rudolf picked up the soap and started lathering the dog. Samantha giggled at the sight of a prince washing a dog.

“Do you find this amusing?” Rudolf asked.

“I never would have thought a royal would stoop to a menial task.”

“I am also a man.” With a smile playing on his lips, Rudolf dropped his gaze to her body.

Samantha blushed. If his words and his gaze on her could make her blush so easily, how would she survive sharing a chamber with him?

“Princess, hand me that bucket,” Rudolf said. “I want to rinse him.”

The prince dumped the water over the dog’s head. Giles lifted his head and howled his displeasure.

“Out,” Rudolf ordered.

Giles needed no second invitation. He leaped out of the tub and shook the excess water off, spraying Samantha.

“I’m wrinkling,” Drake called.

Samantha passed the prince a towel and then walked toward the boys, who still sat in their tubs. After checking behind their ears, she handed Grant a towel, saying, “Dry yourself.” Then she gave her attention to the eight-year-old, ordering, “Stand up, Drake.” When he did, she began to dry him.

“Shall I help the other boy?” Durwin asked, standing beside her.

Samantha glanced at the ten-year-old and noted his grimace. “Fetch those clean clothes.”

Finished with the dog, Rudolf took the towel from Grant and helped him. Then he wrapped the towel around the boy until Durwin handed him the clean clothing.

With her hands on her hips, Samantha walked around the two boys and the dog and inspected them. “Now I can see your handsome faces,” she said, making them smile. “Giles, I never would have believed you had white markings on your gray coat.”

“Come with us,” Rudolf said.

Grant took hold of the prince’s hand, and Drake clutched Samantha’s. Leaving the Tudor great hall, they returned to the main house and walked up the stairs to the second floor.

“Holy water!”

“Holy hell!”

Drake and Grant stood in the middle of the enormous bedchamber and turned in a circle. They stared with open mouths at the chamber’s opulence: red walls, canopied bed, upholstered settee near the hearth.

“Kneel beside the bed,” Samantha said.

“Why?” Grant gave her a suspicious look.

“You need to thank God each night for a blessing He’s given you that day.”

“That’s easy,” Drake said, casting her a flirtatious smile, which elicited a chuckle from the prince. The eight-year-old knelt beside the bed and folded his hands in front of him, saying, “Thank You for sending us a fairy godmother.”

Samantha felt tears welling up in her eyes. The boys were the only people she’d ever met who’d been grateful for her presence. Yes, her sisters loved her, but being family required them to love her.

“Thank You for sending us the prince,” Grant added, kneeling beside his brother.

“Climb into the bed,” Samantha said. When they did, she told them, “I will be in the next chamber if you need me.”

“Lady Samantha?”

“Yes, Drake.”

“Do fairy godmothers kiss little boys good night?”

Samantha kissed each boy’s forehead, thinking that this was how family life should be. Perhaps she wasn’t destined to enjoy life as she’d wished, but sometimes a person needed to make do.

Turning away from the bed, Samantha walked toward the connecting door where the prince waited. She paused when Drake called out to her.

“Lady Samantha?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you weeping?”

“My tears are happy, not sad,” she told him, heading for the connecting door.

“I told you girls were stupid,” Grant whispered to his brother.

“She’s a lady, not a girl,” Drake whispered back.

“Ladies are big girls,” Grant told him, “and being stupid has no cure.”

Rudolf turned to Samantha as soon as the door closed behind them. “You probably want to rest.” He gestured to the enormous bed, saying, “Make yourself comfortable. I will awaken you to dress for dinner.”

Samantha removed her riding habit and hanged it neatly in the dressing room. With a soft smile on her lips, she stared at the prince’s clothing hanging beside hers. There were few things more intimate than sharing a closet, and a tidal wave of love surged through her.

If only he wasn’t a prince . . . if only Aunt Roxie was here to guide her, she would know how to win the prince’s love . . . if only the impossible was possible.

Though she knew God would disapprove, Samantha decided to grab a few weeks of happiness for herself. She would pretend the prince was her husband.

Samantha knelt beside the bed. Though it wasn’t bedtime, sometimes thank-you couldn’t wait.

Covering her face with her hands, Samantha whispered a prayer to the empty room, “Thank You, Lord, for sending Grant and Drake to me. I promise I will love and care for them to the best of my ability. Giles was an unexpected but nice touch, too.”

While Samantha knelt beside the bed in prayer, Rudolf sat alone in the library and sipped brandy. He tried to concentrate on how to get Vladimir out of his life without having to kill his own brother, but the image of Samantha lying in his bed kept intruding on his thoughts.

Thirty minutes is time enough to take care of her private needs.
Rudolf rose from the chair but then sat down again. Now that he had her where he wanted, Rudolf was reluctant to take her.

Samantha Douglas was everything he wanted in a woman—loyal, sensitive, nurturing. Though blessed with an inner strength, she had an aura of vulnerability that made him want to protect her. She was everything he had foolishly believed Olga was. Loving her had brought him only pain.