To Charm a Prince (22 page)

If she was any angrier, Rudolf thought, steam would be coming out of her ears. “You show remarkable promise.”

Rudolf sat down in the chair beside hers and looked at the duke, who was grinning at him. “Your Grace, shall we get down to specifics?”

Duke Magnus turned to Samantha. “The prince will be in residence with us because his brother has moved into Montague House.”

“Zara will be brought here and guarded,” Rudolf told her. “I hope you will become acquainted with her.”

Samantha recalled the pretty, blond five-year-old and smiled at the prince. Grant and Drake would love his daughter. “I will look after her,” she said, relishing the job. “I know you must miss her, but do you think remaining at Sark Island would be safer?”

The duke began to explain, “His daughter isn’t actually—”

Rudolf gestured the duke for silence and then turned to Samantha, admonishing her, “Less than five minutes ago, you agreed never to question my judgment. Since I have decided Zara will reside here, I judge her safer here.”

“I only asked,” Samantha said.

“To ask is to question,” Rudolf informed her. “You gave me your word never to question.”

Samantha couldn’t remember why she had fallen in love with him. The charming prince of her dreams had vanished. In his place was an autocratic ogre.

“Do what you want,” she said.

“I intend to do that,” Rudolf replied. “Preferably, without being questioned.”

Samantha said nothing, her face flaming with embarrassment at the public rebuke. She doubted she could survive the next fifty years with this stranger. Remaining a spinster and becoming a social pariah seemed more appealing with each passing moment.

Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “The wedding is planned for April the twenty-third. Since it’s Saint George’s Day, I can guarantee your husband will never forget your anniversary.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if I would like to forget it,” Samantha muttered.

“You’ll wear your mother’s wedding gown,” Aunt Roxie said with forced gaiety. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Samantha looked at the prince and asked, “Am I excited or not?”

She heard the marquess chuckle. Her gaze was fixed on the prince’s cheek muscle, which had begun to twitch again.

“I think one thousand pounds a month for pin money is adequate,” the duke was saying to the prince.

“I don’t need money,” Samantha told them.

“You need it if I say you do,” Rudolf told her.

“I can have the betrothal contract ready for signing tonight,” Duke Magnus said.

Rudolf nodded. “Once Karl finishes unloading the coach, I will purchase a betrothal ring.”

Suddenly, a ring seemed so final to Samantha. “I don’t need a ring,” she said.

“You need one if I say you do,” Rudolf told her.

Duke Magnus stood then, signaling the interview ended. He offered his hand to the prince, who hesitated for a fraction of a second and then accepted it.

Watching them, Samantha suffered the feeling that something more than her betrothal had passed between the two men. That was impossible, though. They barely knew each other.

The five of them left the duke’s study and walked downstairs. Samantha intended to get herself a cup of tea, check on the boys, and then hide in her chamber for the remainder of the day.

Tall and well-built and blond, Alexander Emerson was entering the mansion as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Spying them, he crossed the foyer to confront the prince.

“You no-good, foreign—”

As the two men faced each other, Samantha knew she needed to prevent violence. She stepped between them, and, feigning a swoon, Samantha dropped to the floor. Her cheekbone smashed into the marble floor, and she lay there stunned.

“Oh, my God,” Roxie screamed.

Rudolf knelt on the floor beside her and held her in his arms. He looked at the stunned majordomo. “Fetch a cold, wet cloth.”

“I will be fine,” Samantha said, opening her eyes. Her face hurt, the pain traveling from cheekbone to temple.

Rudolf dropped his hand to her midsection. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

Tinker, the majordomo, returned then and handed the prince the cloth. Rudolf folded it and pressed it on Samantha’s face.

“Can you stand?” he asked. When she nodded, he helped her up but kept his arm around her.

“Perhaps Alexander should return later,” the duke said.

“This matter needs to be settled now,” Aunt Roxie disagreed. She looked at the prince and said, “Your Highness, see to your man unloading the coach.” To Samantha, “Take Alex into the dining room and explain the situation.”

The last thing Samantha wanted to do was tell Alexander Emerson that she would not be marrying him. She dreaded admitting that she was already pregnant with the prince’s child. Alexander didn’t love her, but he would be hurt. She had depleted her courage and inner strength on the prince.

“My face throbs,” Samantha hedged, “and I’m very tired.”

Her aunt narrowed her gaze on her. “You will feel worse if you do not do as I say.”

Rudolf tightened his grip on her. “My intended wife will not speak to her former betrothed unless I am present.”

Aunt Roxie inclined her head. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Samantha slipped out of the prince’s grasp and walked toward the dining room. Behind her walked Alexander, Rudolf, and the marquess.

“Are you coming, too?” she asked her brother-in-law.

“You don’t want to be alone with these two,” Robert told her.

The marquess closed the dining room doors, and the four of them sat at the forty-foot table.

Rudolf and Samantha sat on one side. Alexander and Robert sat opposite them.

Samantha wondered how to start. She had never thought she would have any husband, and now she had two men fighting over her. She didn’t like the feeling at all. How did the acclaimed beauties handle all the male attention?

“Alexander is waiting,” Robert said.

Samantha nodded. She raised her gaze to her former betrothed.

“His Highness did not abduct me,” Samantha said. “We were speaking in the gazebo and heard a cry for help coming from the woodland. When we investigated, some men—agents of His Highness’ brother—abducted us and took us to London. We managed to escape.

“Rudolf felt we should go into hiding. His other brothers are coming to England to help straighten out this trouble.

“I cannot marry you now. I hope you will forgive me someday.”

Alexander flicked a glance at the prince. “I will marry you anyway.”

Samantha felt her heart sinking to her stomach. This was more difficult than she could have imagined.

“You don’t love me.”

“I like you and respect you and know you will make an excellent wife and mother,” Alexander told her.

Close to tears, Samantha couldn’t control her quivering bottom lip. “I am going to marry the prince.”

“You don’t need to marry him,” Alexander said.

“Yes, she does,” Rudolf said. Then, “Tell him.”

Samantha raised a badly shaking hand to her mouth. She took a deep breath and said, “I am carrying the prince’s child.”

“You coerced her to Scotland and then took advantage of her innocence,” Alexander said to the prince. “I ought to call you out.”

Before the prince could accept the challenge, Samantha burst into tears. The prince leaned close to put his arm around her.

“If you ever need me, don’t hesitate to seek me out,” Alexander told her, rising from his chair. To the prince, he said, “If you ever hurt her, I will kill you.”

When the four of them returned to the foyer, Aunt Roxie was waiting and looped her arm through Alexander’s. “Stay a moment,” she said. “I want to speak to you.”

Without a word to anyone, Samantha turned toward the stairs. Rudolf caught her hand, asking, “Where are you going?”

“I am going to my chamber to rest,” Samantha told him. “If you don’t trust me, my aunt will vouch for my whereabouts while you are gone.”

Rudolf snapped his brows together. Of course he trusted her. How dare she imply that he didn’t?

The marquess laughed out loud. “She sounds like my wife,” he told the prince. “I never would have believed that sweet Samantha could be as snippy as her sister. Motherhood will cure her of that, though.”

Samantha watched them leave the house and then turned to climb the stairs to her third-floor chamber. She had never felt so tired, and her damn cheekbone hurt.

From below, her aunt’s voice drifted up to her. “Dear Alexander, I was so looking forward to welcoming you into the family. I have another niece that will suit you better than Samantha. Victoria is a tad impetuous and not as sweetly biddable. You men like a bit of spice, though. Victoria needs a strong, solid man like yourself, who can control her wilder impulses. I know you are up to the task . . .”

Chapter 12

She had a black eye.

Samantha grimaced at her image in the cheval mirror. Limping wasn’t enough? Now God had sent her a bruised cheek and a swollen black eye.

In spite of her disappointment in the prince’s attitude toward her, Samantha had tried to make herself especially attractive and dressed in the shell pink silk gown he’d bought her. Their marriage would be a sham, but even an unwanted bride deserved pleasant memories.

She would have only one betrothal and one wedding in her life. She didn’t want to look back with bitterness.

If Rudolf had transformed himself from a charming prince into an autocratic ogre, was it possible for him to transform again? How would she go about changing him? Certainly not with arguments.

Whatever she gave to him, he would return to her. She needed to woo her betrothed with gentle words. She practiced her smile in the mirror, but moving her face hurt because of her swollen cheek.

Disgusted with her own appearance, Samantha turned away from the mirror and walked toward the door. She paused as she recalled her aunt’s words of wisdom: “
If you want to know a man’s mind, watch what he does, not what he says.”
She wouldn’t listen to what the prince said, only watch what he did.

Samantha left her chamber and went downstairs to the drawing room where everyone met before going to dinner. She hoped the boys would be on their best behavior.

Walking into the small drawing room, Samantha saw that she was the last to arrive. She peeked at the prince and tried to gauge his mood, but he was in a conversation with the duke.

“Lady Samantha!” Grant and Drake noticed her at the same time. Both boys raced across the drawing room and gave her a hug.

“The duchess is making Giles eat in the kitchen,” Grant told her.

Drake nodded. “She’s very bossy.”

Samantha smiled at that and felt her cheek throb.

“When the duchess goes out, we’ll allow Giles into the dining room with us.”

“What happened to you?” Drake asked.

“Your eye is black and you look sick,” Grant said, sounding worried.

“I fell in the foyer,” Samantha said. “I slipped on the marble floor.”

“Did you cry?” Drake asked.

“No.”

“Does it hurt?” Drake asked.

“Yes.”

Drake crooked his finger at her in a gesture for her to lean closer. When she did, he put his arms around her neck and said, “I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

Then the eight-year-old touched his lips to her bruised cheek. Stepping back, he asked, “How does it feel now?”

“I do feel better,” Samantha said. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I want to kiss it, too,” Grant said.

Samantha leaned close and let the ten-year-old press his lips on her cheek. When he stepped away, she said, “I feel almost like new. Whenever I feel poorly, I want both of you to make me feel better.”

Grant and Drake beamed with pride. Drake grabbed her hand and led her across the drawing room. “His Highness is feeling poorly, but I don’t think he wants me to kiss him.”

“Did he tell you he was feeling poorly?”

Drake shook his head. “He’s very grumpy tonight.”

“Drake, darling, you are going to be a heartbreaker,” Aunt Roxie drawled.

“What’s that?” Drake whispered to Samantha.

“She means all the ladies will fall in love with you,” she told him.

“Yuck,” Drake exclaimed, looking disgusted.

Samantha heard a masculine laugh and peeked at the prince. Catching her eye, Rudolf crossed the drawing room. He lifted his hand to touch her cheek. “I am sorry for your pain, my love.”

Samantha stared into his dark eyes. What had happened to make him start calling her his love again? His moods confused her.

“If you kiss it,” Drake called, “she’ll feel better.”

Samantha blushed and dropped her gaze to the carpet. Rudolf lifted her chin and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Her cheek, Your Highness, not her lips,” Drake called, making everyone laugh.

Rudolf leaned close again, his lips brushing her cheek. Samantha didn’t know what to say. She looked at the others. Her aunt was beaming, the duke was smiling, and her sister was giggling.

Dropping her gaze, Samantha realized the three of them wore formal evening attire. “Are you going somewhere?”

“We’re going to the opera,” her aunt answered.

“After that, we’re going to Lady Mayhew’s ball,” Victoria added.

Samantha glanced at the prince. “I would like to go to the opera, too.”

“I thought opera bored you,” her sister said.

“Tory, you are the one who dislikes the opera,” Samantha said.

“I despise the opera,” Victoria said with enthusiasm, making the prince smile. “I do love the intermission, though.”

“Darling, your eye is blackening and your cheek is bruised,” Aunt Roxie reminded her. “We don’t want to invite speculation.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your aunt means you will not be leaving this house until the bruise disappears,” Rudolf said.

Samantha felt irritated. Was she a prisoner in the duke’s house? “What if the bruise is still there on April twenty-third?”

“A veil will cover it nicely,” the prince told her.

*    *    *

Samantha was relieved that oyster soup was not on the menu that evening. Tomato soup enriched with a swirl of cream and chopped green herbs was followed by dandelions dressed with morsels of bacon and a sharp vinaigrette, stewed mushrooms, and baked Dover sole.