The Trouble With Princesses (11 page)

“Oh, good morning,” Emma chimed in a cheery voice, taking notice of her.

Ariadne entered the room. “Good morning.”

Nick greeted her as well, but Rupert just drank more coffee, then set his china cup into its saucer.

“Look who decided to join us this morning,” Emma continued, casting a speaking glance at her brother.

Ariadne met Rupert’s gaze again, careful to keep her own expression impassive. “
Hmm
, so I see.”

Emma stirred her tea. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when he came in. How long has it been since you joined us for anything other than dinner, Rupert?”

He leaned back, taking a moment to consider. “Truly, I cannot recall. Yet somehow this morning seemed like an excellent opportunity to correct my errant behavior.”

A half smile curved his lips, his eyes gleaming in a way that reminded Ariadne of the night just past. Warmth crept over her skin and she turned away abruptly. It wouldn’t do to let Emma notice anything amiss—or at least anything
more
than she’d already noticed was amiss. Keeping this from Emma was going to be harder than she’d imagined, particularly if Rupert continued acting out of character.

Honestly, what does he think he is doing?
He was the one, after all, who was so emphatic about keeping their affair a secret. Obviously he didn’t have a proper sense of caution. Then again, maybe he’d taken a blow to the head last night, sometime between leaving the party and arriving at the breakfast table? she speculated with a bit of wry humor.

Deciding that keeping herself occupied was the best strategy for now, she crossed to the buffet and took a plate out of the warmer. She lifted the lid off the first silver chafing dish, only to quickly put it back.

Steak and kidney pie.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She detested offal of any kind—heart, liver, kidneys, pancreas—organ meats always sent her appetite scurrying away. She didn’t understand why anyone wanted to eat such things. Although she had to admit that in her youth, she’d been subjected to worse fare, such as pickled fish served in a variety of brines and sauces.

It was bad enough being subjected to such ghastly dishes in the evening, but for breakfast . . .

She gave another inward grimace.

“The blood sausage is quite delicious,” said a smooth, deep voice beside her. “May I offer you a serving?”

She startled. How had Rupert crept up on her without her being aware? She hadn’t even heard him approach.

She shot him a withering look. “No. You know I detest such fare.”

“Kippers, then?” he inquired blithely, even though she could see the evil glint in his eyes. “I am certain you’ll want two or three at the very least.”

“I don’t want any,” she said quietly, “as well you know. Are you deliberately trying to annoy me this morning?”

“I am only trying to shake you out of your nerves. You’re tense as a fox in a ring full of hounds. If you keep this up, my sister will be interrogating you until you break.”

She resisted the urge to turn around and see if Emma was indeed watching them. “Well, she’s bound to wonder regardless, since you suddenly decided to grace us with your presence this morning. What
were
you thinking?”

“Actually, I decided it would be easier in future if we are openly seen to have laid aside the old gauntlet between us. A better rapport seems wise under the circumstances, particularly since we will be spending a great deal more time in each other’s company.”

Her brows drew close and she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “I cannot see why that should be necessary. Nothing has to change between us except . . . well, you know.”

His lips twisted sardonically. “Ah, so you just want me to sneak into your room at night, have my way with you, and then leave,
hmm
?”

She held back a gasp. “Well, not precisely, but something close. We hardly need to live in each other’s pockets, I should think.”

“I’ve found that taking a lover is far more enjoyable when it’s about more than sex. Which I would be happy to teach you if you would but follow my direction.”

Before she could open her mouth to debate the point, he lifted the lid off another chafing dish. “The ham is very good,” he said in a carrying voice. “Allow me to cut you a slice.”

Aware that they had been whispering together far too long, she held out her plate and waited for him to carve.

“And a scone as well,” he suggested, indicating a cloth-covered basket nearby.

Resigned, she took a scone.

“Eggs?” he inquired, after he had laid the ham on her plate.

Her lips tightened since she knew she would never be able to eat half the food he was insisting she take.

He laughed and spooned a generous helping of golden scrambled eggs next to the rest of her meal.

“What are the two of you talking about over there?” Emma called. “Something interesting, I hope.”

Ariadne sent him a stare from under her lashes that clearly said,
Yes, what is it we are discussing, oh great teacher?

But the look he returned was easy and unconcerned.

Replacing a last lid, his own plate replenished, he turned and strolled back to the table. “I was just agreeing to give Ariadne some instruction.”

Only long practice enabled her to hide her shock. What on earth was he saying? Surely he wasn’t about to reveal their affair to Emma and Nick?

But he resumed his seat at the table as if his remark was nothing out of the ordinary. Biting the inside of her lip, she slid into the chair across from him.

“Instruction?” Emma asked. “And whatever might you be planning to teach our Ariadne?”

“Yes,” Nick said, joining the conversation. “I find I’m most intrigued to hear as well.”

Rupert’s gaze met Ariadne’s as he calmly chewed, then swallowed, a forkful of eggs and blood sausage. He wiped his mouth on his napkin, clearly in no hurry to answer.

She frowned as subtly as she could and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head, warning him to remain silent.

He smiled serenely back. “She told me she’s been dying to learn to drive a carriage, so I’ve decided to give her a few lessons.”

Driving lessons? Was that supposed to be the big secret?

If her foot could have reached, she would have kicked him underneath the table for putting her through so much unnecessary anxiety. But as far as stories went, she had to admit, he’d thought of a good one.

Emma turned to her. “I didn’t realize you were interested in learning to drive. Why did you never mention it before?”

And why,
said Emma’s look,
did you decide to mention it to Rupert, of all people?

“Oh, it’s a recent development,” she said in a breezy tone. Picking up the scone on her plate, she broke it in two, delaying. “You remember when Mr. Elliston took me for a spin in his high perch phaeton. I had a magnificent time and have been toying ever since with the idea of learning to take up the ribbons myself.”

Emma smiled. “Well, that does sound like something that would appeal to your sense of daring and adventure.”

“Yes,” Ariadne agreed, warming to the theme. “I shall cut quite a dashing figure driving my own equipage, do you not agree?”

“Indeed.” Emma turned toward her brother. “But how did you come to be involved in this undertaking, Rupert?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness, do tell Emma and Nick all the details,” Ariadne urged.

Rupert pinned her with a look that promised retribution at some later date.

Now who wanted to kick the other person underneath the table?

He raised his cup to his mouth and took a long, deep swallow. “It’s quite simple. I chanced upon Ariadne at a party where she was discussing the idea with a few of her suitors. She was debating which gentleman to accept, despite her obvious lack of knowledge as to whether the gentlemen in question were nothing but a bunch of ham-fisted dolts.”

Quietly, he replaced his cup on its saucer. “Ordinarily I would have left matters as they were, but I feared she would choose unwisely and land herself on the scandal pages. Rather than letting the situation get out of hand, which it was sure to do with Ariadne involved, I offered to provide her instruction. She quite wisely said yes.”

Ariadne’s eyes narrowed. “Although it’s not too late to change my mind.”

“But you won’t,” he said confidently. “You want this too badly.”

Her pulse kicked into a faster rhythm.

Fearing that she might give herself away, she looked down at her plate.

“Well, I for one think it an excellent notion that you learn to drive, Ariadne,” Nick stated from his end of the table. “More women ought to have at least a rudimentary understanding of how to handle a carriage. Who knows when an emergency might arise and leave a lady in need of such an ability?”

Ariadne looked up, surprised, and a bit chagrined, to have Nick’s support.

“Really?” Emma piped. “You’ve never said so before. Does this mean, then, that you would teach me, should I wish to learn?”

Nick smiled indulgently across at his wife. “Of course. It would be my distinct pleasure.”

Emma clapped her hands together. “Oh, what a grand idea. And all thanks to Arie.” She sent a beaming smile Ariadne’s way.

She could do nothing but smile back.

How on earth had this all become so complicated? She supposed now she really would have to take driving lessons from Rupert. Although the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. It would be lovely to have her own carriage and to be able to handle the ribbons with as much skill and confidence as any man. Perhaps she would even buy herself a high perch phaeton, just as she’d claimed.

“So when is your first lesson?” Emma asked, looking from Ariadne to Rupert.

Rupert finished the last of his meal, then laid his fork and knife neatly across his plate. “This afternoon. I see no point in delaying.”

Ariadne fidgeted. Was it really driving lessons they would be undertaking or the start of the other lessons he’d promised to give her? Now that they’d told Nick and Emma she was having driving lessons, though, they would have to leave the house.

So driving lessons it was.

For today anyway.

As for tonight . . .

A delicious little shiver chased through her.

“You’ve barely touched your plate,” Rupert remarked, nodding toward her untouched meal. “Eat. It won’t do for you to take to the roads hungry.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she would eat or not as she chose. She didn’t like taking orders from anyone, particularly Rupert. But she had willingly agreed to this clandestine affair of theirs, so she guessed she would have to get used to his dictatorial ways.

For a while anyway.

“I suppose I will need my strength,” she said, picking up her fork. “If for no other reason than to deal with you.”

She waited for a scowl to crease his golden brows.

Instead, he laughed. “More coffee,” he called to a waiting footman. “I can tell I am going to need my strength too.”

•   •   •

“Arie,” Emma said nearly half an hour later when it was just the two of them left at the table. “I just wanted to say how pleased I am that you and Rupert are getting along better. You’ve always been so much at odds. I never imagined a day when the two of you would be voluntarily participating in an activity together.”

Ariadne kept her face impassive. If only Emma knew the real activity in which she and her brother were planning to participate.

Should I tell her after all?

But much as she hated keeping secrets from Emma, she knew this was one thing she could not possibly share with her.

She forced a wry smile and rolled her eyes with exaggerated derision. “Well, I wouldn’t get too excited about my truce with Rupert. I suspect it will be of a temporary duration at best.”

Emma shook her head. “No, I suppose a permanent truce would be asking too much, wouldn’t it? I am just glad the two of you are finding a way to be more than politely civil. Who knows, maybe you’ll surprise yourselves and end up friends.”

Friends? With Rupert? Now that would be something.

But friendship with Rupert was no more likely than the chance that their affair would last longer than a few fleeting weeks.

Once she’d satisfied her sexual curiosity and he felt reasonably assured she wouldn’t do anything too extreme to disgrace herself or his family, they would go their separate ways. Naturally, Rupert would need to return to Rosewald to resume his official duties, while she would leave for Scotland to spend time with Mercedes and Daniel before the winter closed in. Whether she and Rupert parted as friends, who could predict?

But until then, she had the rest of the Season in which to explore and enjoy.

And, oh, do I plan to enjoy.

She blinked, only then realizing that she’d fallen silent and that Emma was gazing at her with a speculative expression on her face.

“Is there anything else I should know about this new . . . peace accord—for want of a better term—between you and Rupert?” Emma asked.

Oh, bother it all.
If she weren’t more careful, Emma would figure out what was going on without Ariadne saying a single word. Emma was an intelligent woman and if she became suspicious, well, she would make it her mission to learn the truth.

Ariadne gave a nonchalant shrug. “What else could there be? Other than the fact that he will likely irritate me to the point of violence within five minutes of our first driving lesson. I shall have to take care to leave my dress pins and penknife at home.”

A laugh rippled from Emma’s lips. “No, please do not wound him—at least not much. You know how men fuss when they are unwell.”

“Indeed, even royal ones. Or maybe I should say, especially a royal one.”

They both chuckled again, in complete agreement.

Ariadne breathed a sigh of relief.

Chapter Ten

L
ater that afternoon, Rupert stood on the pavement outside Lyndhurst House and watched Ariadne descend the front steps. She looked lovely in an afternoon dress of striped yellow and white muslin, a wide-brimmed bonnet on her soft, shining hair that appeared more red than gold in the sunlight. Rather than slippers, she’d worn a pair of sensible half boots of supple brown leather and on her hands a pair of thin driving gloves in an outrageously bold shade of cerise.