To Charm a Prince (12 page)

Rudolf said, laughter tingeing his voice. “I would prefer she sit here beside me.”

“I apologize, Your Highness,” the majordomo said, escorting her back to the prince.

Beneath the majordomo’s supervision, the two footmen served them potato soup with celery for their first course. The main dish consisted of roasted goose, sage and onion stuffing, watercress garnish, and a thickened gravy.

“So, Princess, is your gown true blue or false blue?” Rudolf asked, as the footmen placed the carved goose on the table.

“This color is sky blue,” Samantha said, refusing to rise to his bait.

“I can never keep my colors straight,” Rudolf said. “We men think in terms of red, blue, and other primary colors. You women name every nuance of shading.”

“Our brains are more developed.”

Rudolf smiled. “Perhaps that is the reason God made us physically stronger.”

They finished their dinner engaged in easy conversation.

“Will you play your violin for me tonight?” he asked.

She smiled at that. “Yes.”

“And would you care to ride with me one morning?”

“I don’t know how,” she admitted.

“Then, I will teach you,” he said. “Shall we walk outside before retiring to the drawing room?”

“I’d like that.”

“Durwin, send one of the footmen for our cloaks,” Rudolf ordered, sounding every inch the prince.

“Colin, fetch their cloaks,” Durwin instructed one of the men.

Samantha leaned close to the prince. “Why didn’t you speak directly to the footman?” she whispered as the man left the room.

“A prince is required to observe the servants’ hierarchy,” Rudolf told her, lowering his voice. “The majordomo enjoys more status than the footman and would be insulted if I spoke directly to the man instead of him.”

“If Durwin is absent,” Samantha asked, her blue eyes sparkling with merriment, “do you send the footman for him and then tell him to send the footman on your errand?”

Rudolf burst out laughing. “Speaking directly to the footman is acceptable in that case.”

“The whole idea of a servants’ pecking order seems absurd to me,” Samantha said.

“Why do you not know this already?” Rudolf asked.

“We didn’t keep servants at the cottage.”

“And since then?”

“I never noticed,” she answered. “I was too busy with other important things. “

“What important things held your attention?”

“I was required to learn how to make small talk,” Samantha told him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I also needed to learn the latest dances, to hold a fan properly, and to serve tea. God forbid, I should be remiss in learning who to seat with whom at dinner parties.”

Rudolf chuckled. “Ah, yes, the empire would be endangered if you failed to learn those things.”

Samantha struggled against her laughter when the footman returned to the dining room. Instead of giving them their cloaks, he passed them to Durwin.

“Your Highness, would you like a footman to carry a lantern outside?” the majordomo asked, assisting them with their cloaks.

“No, thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I merely desire a few moments of privacy with my wife,” Rudolf said, turning away. “Actually, Durwin, I want someone to get my wife’s violin from her chamber and leave it in the small drawing room.”

Durwin snapped to attention. “I will take care of that myself.”

“I appreciate your effort.”

Leaving the dining room, Rudolf and Samantha passed through the foyer and then stepped outside. A full moon lit the night.

Samantha breathed deeply of the crisp air, scented by woodsmoke from the manor’s fireplaces. “I never thought we would arrive.”

“You weathered the journey well,” Rudolf said. “What is the significance of the boar and the lion guarding the house?”

Samantha shrugged. “My father never spoke of his boyhood here. I suppose he was bitter about losing the Douglas fortune. He found peace when the drinking finally killed him.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Rudolf said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“I am sorry for the loss of your wife,” Samantha said.

“Ah, yes, Olga.”

“Does your daughter resemble her?”

“Karl tells me that Dumfries is only eight miles from here,” Rudolf said, ignoring her question. “We will take the coach and buy you another dagger.”

His wife’s death still pained him. How could she ever compete with the cherished memory of a beloved wife?

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

“Do you think I’ll be needing a dagger?” she asked.

Rudolf flashed her a smile. “Fortune favors those who are prepared.”

“I warned you not to announce that we were married,” Samantha said, changing the subject.

“There are worse things in life than being your husband,” Rudolf said, tilting her chin up, to gaze into her eyes.

“Thank you, I think.”

“Let us return inside,” Rudolf said. “I want to listen to your violin.”

Arm-in-arm, Rudolf and Samantha returned inside the manor. As soon as they entered the foyer, Durwin rushed forward and helped them with their cloaks.

“I also left you a bottle of brandy in the small drawing room,” the majordomo told the prince.

“Thank you, Durwin,” Rudolf said. “If you should ever consider leaving the marquess’ employ, you will find a place in my household.”

They left the majordomo preening with the prince’s compliment and walked upstairs to the drawing room. As promised, her violin awaited her there.

The small drawing room was warm and inviting. The walls had been painted a yellow ochre, their shade matching the gold, red, and blue carpet. The upholstered chairs and settees were covered in a mix of jewel-like colors.

Samantha reached for her violin case as Rudolf poured himself a brandy. He looked over his shoulder at her and asked, “Would you care for one?”

“I never indulge in spirits.”

“No one is watching.”

Samantha shook her head. “I have learned difficult lessons from my father’s troubles.”

“I understand.” Rudolf sat in a high-backed chair.

Samantha rested the violin between her head and shoulder, keeping it in place against her neck. She held the bow in her right hand.

Closing her eyes, she began her song, conjuring the lonely moorlands and mysterious mist, light and darkness, and all the shades of shadows in between. The haunting melody gradually increased in tempo like a swirling spiral until it became almost jaunty before fading away to conjure winter’s slumber, spring’s growth, summer’s song, and autumn’s rustling.

Samantha opened her eyes and stared at the prince. He sat with his eyes closed as if letting her song lead him wherever it wanted.

When she ended her song, Rudolf opened his eyes and then stood. “Thank you for the concert, princess,” he said. “You play exceedingly well.”

His compliment pleased her immensely. Samantha returned the violin and the bow to the case and then set it aside. She rose from the settee and accepted his offered hand.

Together, they walked down the corridor to their chambers. Without an invitation, the prince followed her into her bedchamber.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I will unfasten your buttons,” he told her.

With the task completed in mere seconds, Rudolf kissed the side of her neck. Samantha turned around to face him but stepped back a pace.

“Good night, Princess.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “May your dreams be pleasant.”

Samantha watched him walk through the connecting door into his chamber. She stood there for a long moment, wishing circumstances had been different, wishing they were two average people, wishing he wasn’t a prince and she wasn’t a pickpocket.

Giving herself a mental shake, Samantha changed into a nightshift and bedrobe. She gave the door a troubled look and knelt beside the bed.

“Thank You, Lord, for getting us here safely,” Samantha murmured, covering her face with her hands. “Thank You for having the marquess renovate Sweetheart Manor”—she spread her fingers and stared at the dresser—”and thank You for giving me the idea to block the door.”

Rising from the floor, Samantha crossed the room on bare feet and slowly pushed the dresser toward the connecting door. The prince was an honorable man, but he was a man, nevertheless, and might decide to visit her during the night, catching her in a weakened state.

With her door safely blocked, Samantha climbed into the bed and pulled the coverlet up. She looked at the door and wondered what he was doing.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Samantha?”

She stared at the door in silence. Pretending sleep seemed the best course of action.

“Samantha, are you awake?” Rudolf asked. “What was that noise?”

She heard him trying to open the door. Several muttered words in Russian followed that.

A moment later, the corridor door burst open, and Samantha bolted up in the bed. Looking none too happy, the prince marched across the chamber and then pushed the dresser to its original place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Samantha demanded.

“If a maid walked into this room and saw that door blocked,” Rudolf said, his voice stern with anger, “both of us would be disgraced. They would doubt who we are and send a message to the marquess. That could bring Vladimir to us.”

“I don’t believe that would happen,” she argued.

“Would I lie?”

“Yes.”

“Commoners always watch royals and then gossip about them,” Rudolf said, running a hand through his black hair in obvious frustration. “Do you want that?”

Samantha felt a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“There is no need to block the door,” Rudolf assured her. “You are safe with me.”

“I wasn’t safe last night,” she reminded him. “I lost my virtue.”

“Virginity has nothing to do with virtue,” Rudolf told her, turning to leave.

Samantha had no idea what he meant. She dropped her gaze to his flaming red silk bedrobe. Of all the colors in the universe, she would never have expected the prince to wear a red bedrobe.

“Your Highness?” Her lips twitched with the urge to laugh.

“What is it now?”

“Is that true red or false red?” she asked.

“Red is red,” he growled. “Purple is purple.” At that, the prince disappeared through the connecting door into his chamber.

Samantha lay back on the bed and stared at the door. She felt relieved that the matter of his sneaking in here was settled. And yet the bed seemed lonely without him. She’d grown accustomed to his body beside hers.

She missed him.

Chapter 6

“I missed you beside me last night.”

Seated at the dining table the next morning, Samantha glanced at the prince but said nothing. What could she say? She wasn’t about to tell him how much she missed him. That would lead to his crawling into bed with her.

Samantha resumed eating her oatmeal porridge. “I adore melted butter,” she said, reaching for a hot scone. “How is your trout?”

“The trout is baked to perfection,” Rudolf said, his smile telling her he knew she was changing the subject.

“You look very pretty in your white gown. I like the contrasting black shawl.”

“Why are we sitting at the far end of the table?” Samantha asked.

“Since we will be in residence for several weeks, I thought we could amuse ourselves by sitting in a different seat each meal,” Rudolf said, his smile charming. “Changing position does wonders for a person’s point of view. One begins to understand how someone else thinks.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you change your point of view,” he told her, “the world becomes a different place.”

Samantha arched a brow at him. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“You might think differently about us if you saw the situation through my eyes,” Rudolf told her.

“There is no us,” Samantha insisted, leaning close to whisper. “What’s wrong with my point of view? Why don’t you try to see the situation through my eyes?”

The prince caught the majordomo’s eye and, with a flick of his wrist, sent Durwin and a footman out of the room. The majordomo closed the door, leaving them alone.

“How did you do that?” Samantha asked, watching the men leave.

“Practice. The damage to your reputation has been done. Why not relax and enjoy yourself?”

“I told you last night—”

“Lie about your virginity,” Rudolf interrupted, a bitter edge in his voice. “Others do.”

“That would be too dishonest,” she said.

Rudolf burst out laughing. “Princess, until recently, you picked money out of gentlemen’s pockets.”

“Circumstances forced me to do that,” Samantha defended herself. “My family needed to eat,”

“I am not criticizing your behavior,” Rudolf said. “I am merely—never mind.” He stopped talking, apparently deciding to drop the subject. “Finish your porridge. Then we will tour the manor.”

When they emerged from the dining room a short time later, Durwin was waiting just outside the door.

Rudolf turned to the majordomo and said, “Give my compliments to the cook.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. “

“I would like you to seat us in a different place at the table for each meal,” Rudolf instructed the man.

Durwin looked puzzled by the request. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

“We are starting our grand tour of Sweetheart Manor,” Rudolf told him. “The large drawing room is that way?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Shall I escort you around the manor?”

“My bride and I wish to explore the house alone.” He turned to his bride.” Are you ready, my dear?”

Samantha smiled at the prince for the majordomo’s benefit and slipped her arm through his. She would have preferred that Durwin accompany them, but the man would become suspicious if she didn’t want to be alone with her husband.

The large drawing room was formal yet comfortable. The walls sported burnished golden oak from dado to floor as did the mantel above the white marble hearth. The walls above the dado had been papered a deep gold. A red, white, and blue Persian carpet covered the oak floor. Couches, love seats, and settees had been upholstered in various fabrics, the predominate color being a taffeta cream. Tables were positioned here and there, accompanied by wooden chairs with upholstered cushions.