Authors: Julianne MacLean
Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #Historical, #Fiction
“Thank you, Alex. You’ve been very kind.”
Rose glanced toward the targets and the servants standing in the sun, perspiring heavily
while waiting for them to return.
“What do you say?” Rose asked. “Shall we go shoot some more arrows?”
As they turned toward the archery range, they noticed a footman walking briskly toward
them.
“He seems in a hurry,” Alex said.
“He is carrying a letter,” Rose replied.
“I wonder who it is for—you or me.”
“Your Royal Highness,” the footman said with a bow as he held out a gold-plated salver
to Rose.
Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest as she picked it up and examined the seal.
“It is from Joseph,” she said with a pang of disappointment.
“Ah, there, you see? He may be far away, but he thinks of you. Perhaps this letter
will remind you of the affection you share.”
“Yes … I am sure that will be the case.”
She waited for the footman to leave before she broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
“Take your time,” Alex said. “I shall go and hone my archery skills.”
She walked off, leaving Rose alone in the sun to read the letter.
My dearest Rose,
Please accept my condolences over the passing of your father—a great man and a great
king. I wish I could be at your side during this difficult time, but alas I am very
far from your borders.
Please know that I hold his memory close to my heart and have no doubt that his soul
is now resting peacefully with the angels. I will be returning soon to Vienna for
the Congress in October. I wholeheartedly anticipate a prosperous summit, and I look
forward to meeting with your brother, King Randolph.
As always, I think of you fondly and look forward to our wedding day.
Yours truly,
J.
Rose lowered the letter to her side and watched Alexandra exclaim her astonishment
when one of her arrows penetrated the target. All the servants applauded. Alex laughed
and gestured for one of them to hand her another arrow.
I think of you fondly.
Rose raised the letter and reread Joseph’s plain, dispassionate words. Then she looked
at the beautiful diamond engagement ring he had given her, which sparkled blindingly
in the sunlight.
He was fond of her, to be sure, but did he love her? Did he desire her with all his
heart and all the passion in his body? Did he even know what passion was? And if there
were some impediment to their marriage, would he promise to wait for her forever?
Would he fight for her if she ended their betrothal, or would he recover quickly and
seek another wife before the year was out?
She thought of all the moments they had shared when he’d visited her country. He had
been a perfect gentleman and had kissed her only once, briefly on the cheek, before
he said farewell on the day he departed.
The kiss was polite. There had been no weakened knees, no racing hearts, no tears
upon his departure—and certainly no hot-blooded sexual madness that left her judgment
impaired.
She sighed heavily. Perhaps a quieter, calmer sort of love was the better choice.
Perhaps there would be less chance of heartache in the future.
She folded the letter and handed it to her maid for safekeeping, then lowered her
sunshade and handed that over as well before returning to the archery range to pick
up her bow.
An hour later, after an invigorating competition with Alexandra—whose aim was improving
at an impressive rate—Rose returned to her private apartments to rest before dinner.
When she entered her room, however, she was surprised to discover another letter under
her door.
With a blazing rush of exhilaration, she bent to pick it up, tore at the seal, and
hurried to the window to read it.
Dear Rose,
I write to inform you that I must return to the country today to attend important
estate matters, and I do not expect to be back in town until the coronation.
I fully intended to leave the city without any communication to you for you were clear
on that matter, and I do not wish to cause you any further distress.
I could not yield to those noble intentions, however, for my heart still burns for
you, more ardently than ever before. I ache to hold you in my arms, and I pray that
one day I will know such bliss.
Please think of me while I am gone. I will think of you with all my heart and a love
so profound, no words can possibly convey it. Such intimacies can only be expressed
through body and soul. By God, if you were my wife today, I would take you home with
me to Cavanaugh Manor, carry you to my bed, and spend an eternity proving to you the
power of my undying love—my sweet darling.
I have not given up. I will never give up. You should have been mine two years ago,
and I will fight for you until I draw my last breath.
Your devoted and most passionate servant,
Leopold
Without thinking, Rose immediately pressed her lips to the letter and hugged it to
her breast.
She wished she could be indifferent toward Leopold, but any chances of that were suddenly
dashed. She loved him and desired him with a passion equally as ardent and profound
as he described in his letter. No words could possibly convey it to anyone.
What was she to do, then? Speak to Randolph and discuss the possibility of ending
her engagement? But what if this was not real? What if, like before, Leopold could
not be trusted to remain true? She knew from experience that his passions could turn
cold in an instant. He had seemed devoted to her once before, but he had broken her
heart in the end.
Had he truly changed, or was he simply too charming for his own good? And for hers?
Though she wanted to run away with him this very instant and pledge her whole heart
before sunset, she forced herself to see reason and be patient. She must continue
to be careful. She was a Sebastian, and could not afford to do anything rash.
Chapter Eleven
Leopold pounded hard upon the inside door of the coach and shouted to the driver,
“Stop here!”
The heavy vehicle rumbled to a halt in the forest, less than two miles from Cavanaugh
Manor. Leopold knew this property like the back of his hand and couldn’t pass by the
old swimming hole without cooling off in it before his arrival at the house, for it
was damnably hot inside the coach and he was drenched in sweat and close to suffocating.
Quickly shrugging out of his jacket, he left it on the seat and flung the door wide
open. “Good God, it’s stifling.” He spilled out of the vehicle and wiped a sleeve
across his forehead. “I am going to take a dip in the river just beyond that knoll,”
he said to his coachman. He untied his cravat and tossed it back into the coach, then
unbuttoned his waistcoat and removed it as well. “Wait for me here. I will be back
in a quarter of an hour.”
He tugged his shirt out of his breeches and tramped into the woods, quickening his
pace to a light jog over the soft ground, which was covered in a blanket of golden
pine needles. As he breathed in the fresh scents of the evergreens, he realized that
if he didn’t soon cool off, he might lose his bloody mind—and it wasn’t just the humid
summer heat that plagued him. It was this damned relentless obsession with the princess.
He hadn’t wanted to leave town, but had little choice in the matter for one of the
tenant cottages had suffered a collapsed roof. Fortunately no one had been inside
when the disaster occurred, and he was grateful for that, but now he had to assess
the damage and decide what was to be done. Repair it or knock the whole place down
and start over.
After skidding sideways on the edge of his boots down the steep bank of the river,
he reached the water and pulled his shirt off over his head, removed his breeches,
boots, and undergarments, and dove naked into the slow, swirling waters.
The chill of the river was a welcome shock to his senses. It woke him from the fog
of erotic dreams that had been filling his head since he left town. What else was
there to do, after all, during a long and tedious drive into the country but daydream
about Rose?
For that reason, he was as horny as a bull and something had to be done. Otherwise
he’d arrive at the manor house in a quite improper state … frustrated as he was by
Rose’s engagement to another man.
Uttering a bitter oath, he slapped a hand across the surface of the water to send
a silvery spray of fury into the air.
He wished Archduke Joseph of Austria had never been born.
All at once, a flash of hellish memories surged into his brain—
explosions, terror, the violent all-consuming compulsion to kill, or be killed
…
Taking a deep breath, he sank quickly into the river’s depths, dunking his head and
remaining there for quite some time while the water filled his ears and nostrils and
drowned out those vivid images of battle.
He thought of Rose and the soft touch of her lips. The sound of her voice. The warmth
of her smile.
Slowly, the out-of-control pounding sensation in his chest began to subside.
A short while later, feeling somewhat cooler but no less frustrated by the reality
of Rose’s engagement, he dressed himself and tramped back up the hill.
He was driving up the tree-lined drive to the manor house and pulling to a halt out
front when he spotted his mother. She was quick to meet him at the door as he alighted
from the vehicle. “Leopold, I am so pleased to see you! Your hair is wet. Did you
go for a swim?”
“Yes. I couldn’t take the heat.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I share your woes. We have all just been saying how uncomfortable it has been lately,
and how delightful it would be to cool off at the river.”
He regarded her with some displeasure. “
We?
Do we have guests, Mother?”
He had been looking forward to some peace and quiet. Time to reason out his feelings
and calm the inescapable urge to lash out at everything that seemed to threaten him.
Namely Archduke Joseph of Austria.
He felt he needed Rose for that. Everything would be fine if he could just get her
back.
Or would it? He worried suddenly that something was wrong with him. He felt so damned
restless and agitated lately.
With a mischievous smile, his mother linked her arm through his and led him to the
drawing room. “As a matter of fact, we do. You remember my dear friend Lady Palmeter?
She has come to visit with her charming and beautiful daughter, Elise. You may recall
that you once played together as children.”
Ah. He could spot a matchmaking scheme from a hundred paces and could usually dodge
those bullets, but it was too late to do anything about it now, for he’d already walked
straight into the fray.
“I do remember her,” he said, “but I trust you haven’t given the young lady false
hopes, Mother. I am not presently seeking a wife.”
“No?” Her disappointment was obvious.
“No,” he firmly answered.
She let out a tiny
hmpf
.
“There is no point even trying,” he told her. “Not at the present time.”
She inclined her head a fraction. “Why? Did something happen while you were in town?
Were you given reason to hope?”
His mother knew what he wanted. She also understood the delicacy of the situation.
And yes, he
had
been given reason to hope—the moment Rose turned her face into his palm and kissed
it with tender affection and desire. The whole world had turned golden before his
eyes; the touch of her lips was like magic. He had felt transported back to the way
things used to be. Just thinking about it now sent a hot rush of yearning down the
hard length of his body.
“I would rather not explain all the particulars,” he said, “but the princess’s marriage
is not yet set in stone, nor will it be until she speaks her vows before God.”
His mother stopped in the hall and faced him. “Please be careful, Leopold. This is
not a game. She is not like other women.”
“Believe me, I know it.”
“Does the king know of your intentions? Has Rose gone so far as to make promises to
you?”
He took a deep breath and let it out. “Not officially, but do not concern yourself.
I will not do anything foolish.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I was so relieved when your father set you free
from that secret betrothal to Alexandra. I knew it would be dangerous to plot an overthrow,
and that you would gain many enemies in the process. I always made it clear to him
that I am a loyal subject of the New Regime, which is why your father and I now live
apart.” She looked up. “But I do not wish for you to step out of that frying pan straight
into another fire, Leo. Why can’t you simply fall in love with a less complicated
girl?”
He couldn’t help but recognize his mother’s own version of plotting an overthrow—one
of a more romantic nature.
“Like Elise?” he asked.
The color returned to her cheeks. “Precisely. She is very beautiful and remarkably
intelligent. You have a great deal in common with each other, and I am certain you
will like her, if you will just give someone else a chance.”
He took hold of his mother’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I will meet her if it
will make you happy.”
But there was no chance that his passions would be led astray. When he was with Rose,
he felt like the man he was supposed to be. The man he had not yet become. She was
the one he wanted for his future.
They started up the stairs to the drawing room where a light lunch was already being
served.
* * *
Lady Elise was indeed an enchanting creature. She was, in fact, one of the most classically
beautiful women Leopold had ever encountered, with shiny ebony hair, full cherry lips,
and a flawless, creamy complexion. When she smiled, her blue eyes sparkled with warm
sensuality and deep dimples formed on both her cheeks.