Princess in Love (14 page)

Leopold chuckled. “No need to risk it. I shall lead you back slowly.”

He went to collect the cherries that had spilled from her basket and brought them
back to her. She slipped one gloved hand under the wicker handle and held on to the
pommel.

“Ready?” he asked, squinting to look up at her against the radiant morning sun.

“Undeniably,” she cheerfully replied.

They made their way along the wall and back onto the lane, where they walked for a
short while without conversing. Then Lady Elise cleared her throat. “I understand
your father has been abroad in England for many months. Will he come home in time
for the coronation?”

“I believe that is his intention.”

“How wonderful. You will be pleased to be reunited with him, I am sure.”

“Yes.” Though the last time they spoke, they had argued heatedly, and Leo wasn’t entirely
sure his father was sincere in his newfound loyalty to the Sebastian dynasty. To be
honest, he wasn’t looking forward to their reunion.

“What has he been doing in England all this time?” Elise asked. “I thought most of
our diplomats would return after Bonaparte’s defeat, yet he lingers there. I suppose
he is enjoying the celebrations.”

Warm under the scorching heat of the sun, Leopold considered how best to reply. He
couldn’t very well explain that his father had been striving for months to orchestrate
Leo’s marriage to Queen Alexandra. Nor could he reveal that the duke’s London mistress
provided enough entertainment to keep him there indefinitely. So he simply lied about
it.

“He continues to act as an ambassador, and as you can imagine, there are many details
to work out now that the war has ended. It’s more important than ever to secure positive
relations with all our allies.”

“How right you are, my lord. We are fortunate to have your father acting on our behalf.
Someone from the old guard, so to speak.”

Growing suddenly uneasy, Leopold kept up a steady pace on the lane. “What do you mean?”

“He is a Royalist at heart, is he not?”

Leopold cleared his throat. “He was once a friend to King Oswald, to be sure, but
has declared himself King Randolph’s loyal subject. Now, with Alexandra as queen,
I believe any quarrels that once existed between the Royalists and the New Regime
are resolved. The old Tremaine dynasty is effectively restored.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she quickly replied. “You are quite correct. It is a wonderful
thing, and I believe the Coronation Ball will be the most spectacular social event
of the decade. You will be there, I presume?”

“Of course.”

“It is a pity you were in England when I had my debut, Lord Cavanaugh. It, too, was
a spectacular event. I hope you will make up for it by dancing with me at the Coronation
Ball.”

“Naturally, I will be honored,” he replied, as he quickened his pace to reach the
manor house, for he had much work to do and did not wish to give the young lady any
further encouragement.

Chapter Thirteen

Love was both a blessing and a curse. Rose knew this for a fact, as she’d had much
time to contemplate the matter while helping her brother and sister-in-law prepare
for their coronations.

Leopold had left town for the country and stayed away for weeks without writing a
single letter. Though it felt more like months.

She couldn’t be angry with him, for she had asked him to allow her time to consider
her feelings. He was respecting her wishes and for that she was grateful, but it left
her no further ahead in terms of a decision. She had thought her passions might cool
under the forced separation, but instead her traitorous emotions had taken root and
dug in very deep.

Now, on the night of the coronation after weeks spent alone—and not a single letter
from either Leopold or her fiancé—she found herself longing for the one man she had
never truly swept from her heart the first time.

Leopold Hunt, Marquess of Cavanaugh. Decorated war hero. Future Duke of Kaulbach.

As she stood in the crowded reception hall and looked around at all the guests who
were arriving for the ball, she weighed the fact that he would be present this evening,
unlike her fiancé who could not attend. Joseph was occupied with the arrangements
for the Vienna Congress, which was set to begin in less than a month.

She considered that fact in terms of her future marriage.

Wasn’t it better that Leopold was a citizen of her own country, not a foreigner? If
she married
him,
she would not have to leave Petersbourg and reside in Austria.

Oh, but listen to her. Perhaps she was dreaming. Perhaps Leopold would walk into this
room, pick up a glass of champagne, and there would be a horrible repeat performance
of the last time he’d jilted her.

Feeling all at once terribly agitated by that memory, she entered the banquet hall
on her brother’s arm and took her seat at the head table.

It was the first time she truly and bitterly resented her rank as a princess, for
it dictated who she must marry. Perhaps she was not as dutiful as she’d always imagined
herself to be. Perhaps instead she was a rebel at heart and it was time to start behaving
like one.

*   *   *

Randolph and Alexandra were first to dance at the ball. They waltzed around the parquet
floor in a swirl of color from Rand’s striking scarlet regalia and Alexandra’s shimmering
gold silk gown. She wore a string of pearls around her neck with earrings to match,
and long white gloves.

When the music came to an end, they stepped apart and bowed and curtsied to each other,
then did so again to acknowledge their appreciation of the applause and cheering.

As the orchestra began a new set, Randolph and Alexandra gestured for the other guests
to join them.

Rose was led onto the floor by the prime minister, Mr. Carlton, a handsome older gentleman
with a sharp wit and a brilliant ability to win most any argument in the House. He’d
been a good friend to Rose’s late father and had known her since she was a young girl.

They were just beginning to dance a minuet when she spotted Leopold not far away,
leading another young lady onto the floor. The woman—who was exceptionally fresh faced
and appeared quite young—was unfamiliar to Rose. Slender as a twig, she was blessed
with shiny dark hair and high cheekbones, full lips and delicately arched eyebrows.
She wore a sea-green gown with pearls sewn into the puffed sleeves and peacock feather
designs embroidered on the hem of the skirt.

Leopold was attentive as he danced with her, and Rose felt as if she had just been
flung back in time to the night he jilted her at a ball not unlike this one. He had
danced with every woman in the room but her, and when she confronted him at the end
of the night, he had treated her with frosty indifference.

“What is wrong?” she had asked, after taking hold of his arm and forcing him to stop
and explain himself before he left. There had been a beautiful Spanish-looking woman
on his arm. “Why did we not dance together?”

“I wasn’t aware we had made such an arrangement, Your Royal Highness. Perhaps next
time…” With a courteous bow, he escorted the lady out.

Rose had never been more angered or humiliated in her life, and would not under any
circumstance repeat such behavior tonight.

The dance ended and Mr. Carlton led her off the floor. She barely had a chance to
catch her breath before Leopold’s soft, husky voice spoke softly in her ear. “You
look beautiful tonight.”

Turning quickly to face him, she steeled herself against the urge to smile too brightly.
“Thank you, my lord. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am now.” He settled in beside her to watch the dancers. “Will you be my partner
at least once tonight? Twice if you are feeling generous?”

She lifted her chin. “I suppose.”

He regarded her with a curious frown. “Are you angry with me?”

“Not at all.”

“Yes you are. I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your voice. Is it because I was
dancing with that silly chit who has an ego the size of Portugal and a mother who
is desperate to marry her off, just to be rid of her?”

Now it was Rose’s turn to shoot him a surprised look. “I beg your pardon?”

“She is the youngest daughter of the Earl of Palmeter,” he explained, “and spoiled
rotten. Her mother brought her to Cavanaugh Manor recently, and they camped out for
a bloody fortnight. I nearly went mad, I tell you. It was all I could do to keep from
riding back to town to see you and assure myself that not all women were such selfish
creatures. I wanted to write to you, Rose, and tell you every silly word she said.”

In that moment, all of Rose’s insecurities from the past faded away as she regarded
Leopold in the golden light from the chandeliers and let herself fall into the magic
of the music. “I really wish you had.”

His eyes met hers, and time stood still. Her heart pounded like a drum. She couldn’t
escape the pull of whatever it was about him that would not let go of her heart, not
even when he was miles away in the country.

He gazed at her with heated desire. A muscle flicked at his jaw. “Is there somewhere
we can go?” he asked in a dangerously persuasive voice.

She understood his meaning. He wanted to be alone with her. She understood because
she wanted the same thing. She could not possibly deny it.

Glancing over her shoulder, she swallowed over the fear that someone would take one
look at them and recognize their secret passion. Surely someone would know that she
was not thinking of her fiancé. She was thinking only of how wonderful it would feel
to fall into Lord Cavanaugh’s arms and know the sultry caress of his hands on her
body and the tantalizing allure of his kiss.

“Meet me in the library in the Van Eden wing at midnight,” she said without looking
at him. “Do you know how to find it? You must exit into the center courtyard and reenter
the palace through the double doors behind the white rose arbor. I will make sure
they are not locked, and you must ensure that no one follows. Can I trust you with
this?”

“Of course,” he replied, also without meeting her gaze.

“I will wait only so long,” she told him. “Now I must go.”

“But will you dance with me?” he asked before she walked away.

“Yes,” she replied, “but only once, and please do not look at me as you are looking
at me now. No one must know what exists between us.”

“But they
will
know,” he whispered in her ear, “for I want you as my wife, Rose, and I warn you
now, I will never give you up.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly took her leave.

Chapter Fourteen

Rose stood in the dark with only the bluish glow of the moonlight shining in through
the window when the library door began to open.

She had been waiting nearly ten minutes. She’d tried three times to sit down and relax
on the upholstered settee in front of the bookcase, but could not sit still. After
only a few seconds, she stood and paced back and forth in front of the window.

Now, as the door finally creaked open, she felt almost dizzy with fear and excitement.

Fear that her secret rendezvous with her ex-lover had been discovered …

Excitement that he had come at last and would take her into his arms and again whisper
sweet promises in her ear. Passionate promises that he would love her forever and
never stop fighting for her.

She realized in that blazing moment of anticipation that she could not exist any other
way. She could not marry a man she did not love. Her passion for Leopold was undeniable,
and he had declared his wish to marry her. To choose another man and another future
would force her to live a lie, and she could not do that, not even for the good of
her country. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but if it was, so be it.

With bated breath, she stood motionless while Leopold entered the room and closed
the door. She stared at him in the moonlight and quivered with desire.

He felt it, too. There was no doubt in her mind that they were utterly together in
this madness.

“You’re here,” he softly said as he slid his hands behind his back and turned the
key in the lock.
Click
 …

They were truly alone now. No one else could enter.

Her senses ignited with heat and her body melted like butter at the sight of him pushing
away from the door, crossing over the plush Persian carpet, and circling around the
desk to reach her at the window.

As they stood face-to-face, she felt as if she were sitting on a cloud, floating in
a thick haze of rapture.

“We must move away from the window,” he said. His fingers weaved through hers, and
she wished they were not wearing gloves, for she wanted to feel the heat of his skin.

Slowly, with a deliciously erotic note of command, he led her to the settee and whispered,
“Sit down.”

She sank onto the soft cushions and reclined back against the head rest while he shrugged
out of his jacket. He turned to lay it on a nearby chair, then removed his gloves
and set them down as well.

He sat on the edge of the settee and laid one hand on the curve of her hip, while
the other cupped her chin. The soft pad of his thumb feathered lightly across her
lips.

With careful movements, as if he feared she might spook and bolt if he moved too quickly,
he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. The tips of his fingers feathered down
the side of her neck, sending a ray of gooseflesh across her body. His tongue mingled
with hers, and the pleasure ached between her legs where a deliciously sweltering
heat began to fill her senses. All this, from just a kiss …

As he came away and let his gaze roam over all the details of her face, she tugged
at the fingertips of each glove and slowly pulled them off. The delicate fabric slid
across her skin, arousing her to a heightened state of desire that knew no bounds.