To Charm a Prince (5 page)

“I prefer not to discuss my father,” the prince said, his voice cold. He softened his tone when he said, “Tell me about yourself, little one.”

“I am a pauper,” Samantha said. “I haven’t a penny to my name.”

“I measure people by the size of their hearts, not their purses.” Rudolf tightened his embrace, brushing his lips against her temple.

“How rare for a prince to possess magnanimous integrity,” Samantha said, a smile in her voice.

The scent of woodsmoke wafted through the air into their coach. Both Rudolf and Samantha looked out the window. In spite of the hour and the cold, many people filled the narrow street.

“We are in London,” Prince Rudolf said.

He reached out to stroke her cheek and then turned her face toward his. She knew he was going to kiss her and closed her eyes as the exotic scent of sandalwood filled her senses.

His lips touched hers, claiming her mouth in a lingering kiss. It melted into another and then another. Only the coach jerking to an abrupt halt broke them apart.

“Stay alert for any avenue of escape,” Rudolf whispered.

“Why am I going to die?” Samantha asked in a quavering voice.

“My brother hates me,” Rudolf told her. “Vladimir takes after our father.”

His admission surprised Samantha, but she had no time to consider his statement. The coach’s door swung open.

“Get out,” Igor ordered.

Rudolf climbed down first and turned to assist her. Looping the instrument case’s leather strap over her shoulder, Samantha steadied herself by grasping the door handle.

No lock
, registered in her mind. Samantha snapped her gaze toward the prince.

Rudolf smiled like a boy caught in a prank, earning himself a black scowl. “I saved you from yourself,” he whispered.

“Follow my companions into the house,” Igor ordered, pointing his pistol at them.

Carrying lanterns, the two accomplices led the way into the alley door of the house. Rudolf walked in front of Samantha, who was followed by Igor.

Once inside, Samantha saw that the hallway led into the kitchen. Instead of entering the kitchen, the men with the lanterns opened a door and turned to start down a flight of stairs.

“Owww,” Samantha cried, losing her balance. She pushed the prince out of the way and fell into one of the villains.

“Damned Hopping Giles,” the man cursed, shoving her back.

The force of his shove sent her careening into Igor. Rudolf grabbed and steadied her.

“Touch her again, and you will die,” Rudolf threatened the man.

“I’m shakin’, yer lordship,” he shot back.

The prince growled and moved to grab the man.

“Please, Rudolf, I am uninjured,” Samantha said, placing a restraining hand on the prince’s arm. “If they kill you, I will be alone.”

Chapter 2

The cellar smelled like a dead skunk. Darkness lay beyond the circle of light cast by the lanterns. Samantha didn’t even want to think about what hid in the cellar’s corners.

“You cannot leave us here,” Rudolf said, turning to the giant. “This room is unhealthy.”

“You won’t live long enough to get sick,” one of the men said.

“You’ll be dead in the morning,” his friend agreed.

Samantha didn’t want to die. She especially didn’t want to die in this cellar.

Rudolf drew her against his body and turned to Igor. “For the lady’s sake, leave us the lantern.”

The big Russian gestured one of his thugs to leave the lantern. Then he reached into his pocket and muttered, “Where are those damned keys?” He looked at his minions and ordered, “You get the spare keys. And you bring vodka, cheese, and bread.”

“You’re gonna feed them?” the second man asked. “That’s a waste of food and drink.”

Igor growled like a bear and stepped toward the man, who dashed up the stairs. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he said to the prince. “Vladimir will arrive in a day or two. Ah, here is your supper.”

“No caviar?”

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

“I always liked you,” Rudolf told Igor. “If you ever leave my brother’s employ, you are welcome to join my household.”

Before the big Russian could reply, one of the villains said, “Dead men don’t keep households.” The man reached for the violin case, adding, “We’ll get a few coins for this.”

“Over my dead body,” Samantha cried holding tight to the violin case, refusing to relinquish it.

Rudolf hit the man’s arm, forcing him to release it. At the same moment, Igor grabbed the man’s throat, lifted him into the air and tossed him toward the stairs.

Choking and wheezing, the man scurried up the stairs just as his friend appeared in the doorway, calling, “I found the keys.”

“Enjoy the vodka, Your Highness.” The big Russian climbed the stairs, closed the door, and locked it.

Samantha watched the prince lift the lantern high and turn in a circle as if scanning the cellar for an escape route. Finding none, he set the lantern down on the floor and looked at her.

“In a day or two, you will experience the dubious pleasure of meeting my brother,” Rudolf said. “I am sorry you have become involved in our quarrel.”

Regardless of the filth, Samantha sat down on the bottom stair. “I cannot believe I am sitting here instead of becoming betrothed,” she complained. “Alexander will never marry me now.”

“You do not love the man,” the prince said. “From what I have heard, he does not love you.”

“Love has nothing to do with marriage,” Samantha told him. “That is a luxury reserved for a fortunate few like wealthy, handsome princes.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Rudolf said, inclining his head, “but you deserve a husband who loves you.”

“You lied about the coach door,” Samantha said, ignoring his remark.

Now the prince ignored her remark, asking, “What is Hopping Giles?”

Samantha sighed. “Saint Giles is the patron saint of cripples, and Hopping Giles is a derogatory name given to cripples.”

“You are no cripple.”

“Are you blind?” Samantha asked in irritation. “I walk with a limp.”

“Assume a respectful tone of voice when you address me,” Rudolf ordered her. “I am a prince of Russia.”

“You are a royal pain in my arse,” Samantha snapped, and then unleashed the full fury of her anger. “Where do you get the gall to correct my behavior? You disappeared for six months and then barged into my life, upsetting my plans and getting me abducted.”

“I have apologized for that,” the prince said stiffly.

“I haven’t forgiven you.”

Sitting on the stair beside her, Rudolf gave her a confused look, asking, “Isn’t one required to accept an apology?”

Surprised by his question, Samantha turned her head to stare at him. “Your Highness, have you ever apologized to anyone?”

“Not that I can remember.” Rudolf took a swig of the vodka and offered her the bottle.

“I do not indulge in spirits,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “Why does your brother want you dead?”

“Vladimir has always harbored an intense jealousy toward me,” Rudolf answered. “He wants something I have and, apparently, is willing to kill for it.”

Samantha couldn’t understand what was so important that one brother would murder another. After all, the English throne was not at stake. “What do you have?”

“I possess the Kazanov Venus,” he answered.

“. . . Return Venus to her rightful owner or suffer the consequences.”
Samantha recalled Igor’s words to the prince on the night of the Emerson ball.

“The Kazanov Venus is a medallion of gold engraved with the goddess Venus holding the hand of her son, Cupid,” Rudolf told her, his pride apparent in his voice. “The piece has belonged to my family for five hundred years, always passed down from father to eldest son. Whoever possesses the Kazanov Venus enjoys prosperity and fertility.”

“Why don’t you let Vladimir borrow it?” Samantha asked.

“My brother has already stolen several of my possessions,” Rudolf told her. “The medallion cannot be shared.”

“If your father bequeathed it to you, then I don’t understand how—”

“My father is living,” Rudolf interrupted. “I took Venus with me when I left Russia.”

“You stole from your father?”

“Certainly not.” The prince sounded affronted. “I took what was mine.”

“Why does Vladimir believe the medallion should be his?” Samantha asked.

“I cannot know what dwells in my brother’s mind, but I do know that malice for me fills his heart.” Rudolf put his arm around her and drew her close against the side of his body.

The prince was much too close for Samantha’s peace of mind. The warmth of his body and his appealing sandalwood scent conspired against her and she felt herself falling under his spell, and wishing he would kiss her.

Samantha gave herself a mental shake. Only a blinking idiot would be thinking of kissing at a time like this.

“Since we are going to die in a day or two,” the prince said, breaking the silence between them, “would you care to pass tonight making love?”

Samantha turned her head to stare at him. Only a dead man would have missed her shocked anger.

“That was a bad idea,” Rudolf admitted, and smiled unrepentantly. His next words mirrored her thoughts. “I wish circumstances had been different for us.”

“So do I, Your Highness.”

Rudolf and Samantha sat in silence for a long time. She rested her head against his shoulder and listened to the sounds of footsteps on the floor above their heads. Finally, all was silent.

“I think our abductors have gone to bed,” Samantha whispered, pulling a key out of her pocket and holding it in front of the prince’s face. “Shall we leave now?”

The prince dropped his mouth open in surprise. “Where did you get that?”

“When I fell against Igor, I lifted it out of his pocket,” she told him, her pride evident.

“Your tripping was fortuitous,” Rudolf said, standing to offer her his hand.

“Fortuitous, my arse,” Samantha said, accepting his hand. “I tripped on purpose. That foul-smelling assistant of his had empty pockets. Thankfully, he pushed me in the direction I wanted to go.”

Rudolf lifted the key out of her hand, asking, “Shall we leave?”

Samantha nodded but paused a moment to flick the bottom edge of her gown up. She reached into her boot and pulled out a small dagger. “I’m ready now.”

“You carry a dagger in your boot?”

Samantha thought he was asking why she hadn’t drawn it before. “The dagger would have been no match for their pistol.”

“You seem different from the proper lady with whom I danced at the Emerson ball,” Rudolf remarked.

“I am as I always was,” Samantha told him. “Do you want to escape or discuss your misconceptions about me?”

Rudolf lifted the dagger out of her hand. “Take the lantern, so I can see what I am doing at the top of the stairs.”

“We’ll make less noise if we remove our boots,” she suggested, reaching for the lantern.

“That is unnecessary.” Rudolf moved to start up the stairs, which creaked in protest. He stopped short and whispered as if he’d just had an idea, “Remove your boots.”

At the top of the stairs, Samantha held the lantern while he unlocked the door. Rudolf opened it slowly and peered into the empty hallway. He led her down the short hall, away from the kitchen, and outside into the night. She set the lantern down, lest it become a beacon for their captors, and together, they hurried down the alley as quickly as her limp would allow. After putting two blocks between them and their abductors, they paused to put their boots on again.

“The Londoners are celebrating the coming New Year,” Samantha said, hearing loud voices only a short distance away.

“Crowds offer safety,” Rudolf said. “Let us join them.”

Samantha placed her hand in his, and they walked down the cross street to the main thoroughfare. Here crowds of people milled around as if the hour was high noon.

“Where are we?” Rudolf asked.

Samantha looked up and turned in a circle. The torch-lit towers of Whitehall were very close. “We’re in East London.”

“Which way is Montague House?”

“We must walk west.”

Samantha started to pull her fur-lined cloak around herself but glanced at the cloakless prince. She opened her cloak in a silent invitation.

The prince looked stunned by her offer. Hadn’t anyone ever shown him a simple kindness?

“You need it more than I,” Rudolf refused.

“Get in here, Your Highness,” Samantha ordered. “We have a long walk.”

“You will be cold,” he argued.

“Your body heat will keep me warm,” she told him.

Rudolf grinned, stepped into the cloak, and pulled one side over his right shoulder. Samantha wrapped the other side tightly around herself. She felt his left arm encircle her waist and realized how close they needed to be to share the cloak.

“I will carry your violin,” he said.

“That is unnecessary,” she told him.

“I insist.” Rudolf lifted it out of her hand and looked up at the moonlit sky adorned with thousands of stars. “It is a good night for an adventure.”

It was a good night for anything as long as she was with him. That thought surprised her.

Rudolf and Samantha started walking west on Cheapside and passed St. Paul’s Cathedral. From there, they headed north to Great Russell Street. Montague House lay between Bedford House and Bedford Square.

Near ten o’clock, Rudolf and Samantha reached Montague House. “This is it,” he said.

“Perhaps your coachman could drive me to His Grace’s on Park Lane?” Samantha asked.

“You cannot leave me,” Rudolf said. “Igor and his men will be looking for us.”

“I will be perfectly safe at His Grace’s.”

“Your ability to identify our assailants places your life in grave danger,” the prince said, guiding her up the front stairs.

Though that frightened her, Samantha wouldn’t let go of her dream so easily. “I might still be able to—”

“Your well being is more important than your betrothal to Alexander Emerson,” Rudolf interrupted.

Surrendering to the inevitable, Samantha sighed heavily and inclined her head. She let him lead her into the foyer and felt relieved when the door closed behind them.