Princess in Love (13 page)

His mother had not exaggerated about her intelligence, either, for he soon learned
that Lady Elise had been educated in France, spoke three languages fluently—English,
French, and Spanish—and had a strong natural talent for music. She played the piano
like no one he had ever heard. She could read complex sheets of music, and it was
quite a spectacle to watch her slender fingers fly across the keys at an impossible
tempo.

If that was not enough, she was a gifted artist, as well (her mother was painfully
eager to show him one of her watercolors), and she also enjoyed chess.

“How lovely your gardens look,” Lady Palmeter said to him that evening in the drawing
room after dinner. “The flowers are holding up very well in this wretched heat.”

“That is my mother’s doing,” he replied. “She is the gifted one in the family.”

“Gifted with gardens, you mean?” Lady Elise said. “But surely you have gifts of your
own, my lord. One cannot defeat a terrible villain like Napoleon and return home a
decorated war hero without certain rare and indispensable qualities.”

She watched him intently over the rim of her china cup as she sipped her tea.

“I suppose that is so,” he replied, hoping she would not press him to talk about it.
He was weary of reciting the same stories over and over to strangers, always finishing
to a round of cheers and applause, while most of the truth about the battlefield was
left unsaid.

“Forgive me,” Lady Elise said, seeming to recognize his unease. “Now is hardly the
time to talk of war.” She sat forward to place her teacup and saucer on the table.
“Napoleon has had far more attention than anyone deserves. I daresay we ignore him
altogether, at least for this evening.”

“Here, here!” her mother agreed.

“What say you, Lord Cavanaugh? Perhaps a game of chess would appeal to you? I promise
to be a worthy opponent.” Lady Elise sat up primly with her hands folded on her lap,
staring at him with keen eyes.

Though he would have preferred to go straight to bed, for he’d had an exhausting afternoon
helping to clear away the rubble from the collapsed roof, he did the gentlemanly thing
and accepted her challenge.

As he escorted her to the chess table on the far side of the room, he heard the quiet
murmurs of approval from their mothers and realized he was going to have to be exceedingly
careful in his behavior with this woman, for he did not wish to do anything that might
trigger a misunderstanding.

They set out the chess pieces and began to play while chatting casually about the
weather, his recent trip abroad to meet his father in England, and of course the marriage
of King Randolph and Queen Alexandra.

“What a shock it was,” Elise said, “when we read the newspaper that morning and learned
that the woman he chose for a bride was none other than the fabled Tremaine princess.
Are they absolutely certain she is who she claims? I thought King Oswald died without
heirs.”

Leopold moved a knight on the chessboard. “Yes, they are certain. She was smuggled
out of Switzerland at birth and was raised in England under a false name.”

“Smuggled out by whom?” she asked. “The paper did not disclose that information.”

He watched her forehead crinkle while she considered how to make her next move. “A
man by the name of Nigel Carmichael. He was one of Oswald’s chief advisers and has
been her protector all these years. He resides in Petersbourg now and has been welcomed
back at court.”

“You don’t say. Well. I am sure the queen will be an outstanding monarch. She seems
charming and lovely.”

They continued to talk of light matters until they finished the game, at which time
Leopold politely thanked Lady Elise, made the usual excuses, and retired for the night.

*   *   *

“Is he everything you thought he would be?” Lady Palmeter asked as she sat down across
from Elise in front of the unlit fireplace in her guest chamber.

Elise was slouched down so low in the facing chair, it was a wonder her neck didn’t
snap.

Dressed in a pale pink silk nightgown with a low neckline and nothing on her feet,
she fanned herself grumpily.

“He’ll do well enough, I suppose,” she replied, “but I am still angry with you about
Randolph. It is your fault he married Alexandra.”

“
My
fault? How can it be my fault? I didn’t tell him to go to England to find a bride.”

“You should have let me debut last year!” Elise shouted. “I asked you a hundred times
over! I begged and pleaded, but you wouldn’t allow it. You insisted I wait. Now look
what has happened!”

“You were barely seventeen, and he had just ended his engagement to Lady Elspeth.
It would have been pointless last year.”

Elise growled in displeasure and flew out of her chair. “You told me I could marry
the future king!”

“I said it was
possible
that you could. Not that you
would
. That sort of thing never comes with guarantees.”

Elise shot her mother a seething look of pure venom. “I wanted to be queen.”

Lady Palmeter shifted uneasily in the chair. “Chin up, darling. You can still be a
duchess. Lord Cavanaugh is heir to his father’s title, and do not forget, he is descended
from true kings, while the Sebastians are commoners by blood. There are still some
who believe they are lowly usurpers who should be executed for what they did during
the Revolution.”

Letting out a huff, Elise slapped at the bed curtain and sauntered back to her chair.
“Oh, do shut up, Mother. The bright side reeks of second-best.”

“But Lord Cavanaugh is a shiny golden prize!” she argued. “He is without a doubt the
very best there is available at the moment. He is a famous war hero and I daresay
the most handsome bachelor at court. You cannot deny that. And if you want to catch
him, you had best keep your eye on that target, Elise, or he will be snatched up by
some other ambitious young lady who recognizes an opportunity when she sees one. As
soon as word gets out that he was recently jilted by a secret fiancée that no one
knew existed, he will be more sought after than ever before.”

Elise lounged back in the chair again. “Stop trying to frighten me. I am not intimidated
by other women. It is they who should be intimidated by
me.
I am not the least bit concerned.” She snapped her fingers. “I can have him just
like
that
if I want him. I am only angry that I did not have a chance with Randolph. If he
had met
me
first, he wouldn’t have bothered to travel all the way to England to find a bride,
and he wouldn’t have married that stupid Tremaine cow.”

“Hush, Elise! She is your queen!”

The reprimand was met with a careless scoff, then Elise stood up to admire herself
in the cheval glass. She ran her fingers through her long dark wavy tresses and turned
her cheek left, then right, to admire the soft lines of her jaw and the fullness of
her lips. “Since I cannot have the king,” she said cantankerously, “I suppose I shall
have Lord Cavanaugh instead.”

Lady Palmeter let out a heavy sigh of relief. “That is wonderful, darling.”

Elise’s blue eyes narrowed with malice as she regarded her mother in the glass. “Unless
I change my mind again, of course,” she warned. “I may decide I want Prince Nicholas
instead. He is second in line to the throne after all, and if Alexandra cannot give
Randolph a son, he would be king.”

Her mother blinked at her. “But Nicholas is a terrible rake. He leaves a trail of
broken hearts and ruined reputations wherever he goes.”

Elise climbed onto the bed. “Oh, for pity’s sake, sometimes I wish you would stuff
a stocking into your trap, Mother. I haven’t made up my mind yet, and I will most
likely keep both of them on the hook until I do. Now tell me where those cottages
are, for I intend to get in Lord Cavanaugh’s way tomorrow.”

Apprehension flashed across her mother’s face. “What will you do?”

Elise rolled her eyes. “What do you
think
I’ll do?”

“Elise…?”

“Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll be sweet and virtuous.” She flopped back onto the pillows
and twirled a long tendril of hair around her finger. “I don’t believe it will take
much effort. Watch and see. Lord Cavanaugh will be hopelessly infatuated with me before
the noonday meal. Then all I’ll have to do is say yes to his proposal.”

“You will be charming, I am sure.”

“Of course I will. Now get out. I’m tired.”

Her mother rose from the chair and quietly crept from the room.

Chapter Twelve

Cantering at an easy pace toward the east cottages to ensure the repairs were under
way, Leopold continued to ponder his mother’s concerns and wishes. She’d made no secret
of the fact that she wanted him to move on with his life and let go of his desire
to have Rose as his future duchess. She wanted him to consider Lady Elise instead,
which was not such a very bad idea, for he was in hell at the present moment, wanting
a woman who was already pledged to another man.

Slowing his horse to a walk, he let his mind wander back to their encounter on the
ridge overlooking the palace and recalled the sweet intoxicating flavor of her open
mouth when he kissed her.

Erotic images flooded into his brain, and he couldn’t help but envision the irresistible
pleasures that would be his on their wedding night—if only he could have her for his
own.

He grew uncomfortable in the saddle as he fought an inconvenient surge of arousal,
then heard the sound of someone calling his name.

“Lord Cavanaugh!”

Glancing across the fields toward the south river, he spotted a splash of pink and
blue against the rolling green landscape. It was Lady Elise with a basket on her arm
and a pretty straw bonnet on her head, ribbons flapping everywhere as she came barrelling
down the steep hill.

He pulled his mount to a halt and was just swinging a leg over the saddle—for he felt
obliged to stop and say hello—when Lady Elise stumbled and fell forward onto the grass
in a great heap of flying fruit and fluttering fabrics.

Seconds later, he was dropping to his knees at her side before she even had an opportunity
to realize what had occurred. “Are you hurt, Lady Elise?”

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, sitting up and clutching at her ankle. “I do apologize!”

“No apologies are necessary,” he replied. “It is I who should apologize to you for
the unpredictable slope of my property. You took quite a spill. Are you certain you
are not hurt?”

“Oh,” she sighed. “I fear I may have sprained my ankle.” Without the smallest show
of modesty, she flung her skirts up over her knee and reached down to massage the
lower part of her shapely leg.

Leopold immediately lifted his gaze to scan the surrounding countryside and ensure
there were no witnesses about—for a scandal involving a young lady lifting her skirts
for him was not what he needed right now. Ascertaining that there was no one in the
vicinity, he gave her his full attention.

“You are in no condition to walk,” he said. “Please allow me to take you home.”

“Oh, you are too kind, my lord, but I cannot possibly inconvenience you. I shall limp
back to the manor house on my own. It will be no problem at all. I will only require
some assistance collecting the cherries I just picked in the orchard. I had hoped
to have your cook bake a pie for the poor family that suffered a collapsed roof. Yes,
your mother told me about it and I could not bear to imagine what they must be enduring.
‘Surely a cherry pie would lift the spirits of the children!’ I thought to myself
last night as I was drifting off to sleep.”

He stared at her intently. “That was very gracious of you, Lady Elise. I am sure they
will be most grateful to receive such a gift. Now let me help you to your feet.”

“Thank you, my lord. You are the most heroic of men.”

As he slid one arm under the curve of her lower back and hooked the other under her
knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled alluringly at him in the early
morning light.

He could not help but wish he was carrying quite another young woman to his horse
this morning, holding her in his arms in this way and promising to see her safely
home. To
his
home, where she belonged.

Bloody hell. Perhaps his mother was right. Perhaps it was time to consider a woman
who was not beyond his grasp—a woman who did not require him to fight another battle.

He had to marry one day. It was his duty as a future duke. Lady Elise was too young,
however, and clearly very impatient and impetuous to have broken into a run down a
steep slope.

But she had only recently had her debut, he reminded himself, and was still a child
in many ways. In time, she would mature.

He felt her soft warm breath on his cheek and the brush of her lips across his jawline.

“You are a very handsome man, my lord,” she said. “How is it possible you have not
yet taken a wife? Surely you have many admirers.”

“If I do, I should be very flattered.”

“Well, of course you do!” she exclaimed. “I feel fortunate to be in your arms this
morning, even though I am injured.”

He carried her to a low stone wall and set her down on the ground. Keeping one hand
on his shoulder, she hopped on one foot.

“Bear with me,” he said. “I shall summon my horse and deliver you to the house in
no time at all, and we will do what we must to hasten your full recovery.” He whistled
to Goliath, who came trotting over. “We shall use this wall as a mounting block. Can
you put your good foot in the stirrup?”

“With your assistance, my lord, I believe I can accomplish anything.”

“Very well, then. Up you go.” He took hold of her under the arms and hoisted her onto
the wall, then grasped the bridle to hold Goliath steady while providing support to
Lady Elise with his other arm.

Within seconds, she was sitting in the saddle, wiggling her bottom to find a comfortable
position. “I wish I had the courage to ride like a gentleman,” she said, “but I am
quite certain Mother would brain me.”