To Charm a Prince (13 page)

The portraits of the Douglases covering the walls attracted Samantha. It was the first time she was seeing the illustrious ancestors she’d heard about from her aunt.

“This is Good Sir James Douglas,” Samantha said, staring at a portrait. “He fought and died with William Wallace, Scotland’s greatest hero in the wars of independence.”

“Independence?”

“Scotland has not always been united with England.” Samantha stopped at the next portrait and read the name at the bottom. “This is Archibald the Grim, the bastard son of Good Sir James. When the legitimate Douglas line died, Archibald became the third Earl Douglas.”

“A bastard inherited?”

Samantha nodded. “His son, the fourth Earl Douglas, fought with Joan of Arc against the English.”

“Your father was not Earl Douglas,” Rudolf said.

“My father was the Earl of Melrose, a title granted at a later date to a branch of the Douglas clan,” Samantha told him, slipping her arm through his. “There’s an interesting tale about the first Earl Douglas. During the wars of independence, women in the English garrison sang a lullaby to their children, which ended with the words ‘The Black Douglas shall not get ye.’

“During the recapture of Roxburgh Castle, Black Douglas led his men silently through the dusk to the castle and found an unguarded entrance. The first person he encountered was a woman singing her child to sleep. As she sang ‘The Black Douglas shall not get ye,’ the Black Douglas laid a hand on her arm and said, ‘I am not so sure of that.’”

Prince Rudolf smiled. “So did this Black Douglas get them?”

“I don’t know,” Samantha said with a shrug. “The story always ended there.”

“You must tell me a new story every day,” Rudolf said, guiding her toward the door.

“Only if you tell me one,” she said, her eyes gleaming as she warmed to the man.

Rudolf nodded his head in agreement. “Let us surprise the staff in the kitchen.”

Rudolf and Samantha could hear the buzz of laughter and conversations as they neared the kitchen. All of this stopped the instant they walked into the room. With surprised expressions frozen on their faces, the servants snapped to attention.

Warm and inviting, the kitchen was enormous. On one side was a gigantic red brick hearth, and opposite that were dozens of pots and pans hanging from hooks on the wall. Laden with bowls and utensils, a long table with wooden chairs stood in the middle of the room.

“My compliments to you,” Rudolf spoke to the cook. “I have not eaten so well since leaving my homeland.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The cook preened beneath the prince’s praise.

Samantha glanced at the maids. Sally was staring at the prince with an expression of mingling adoration and hunger unacceptably bold.

Feeling a twinge of jealousy, Samantha touched the prince’s arm and smiled warmly when he turned to her. “Darling,” she drawled in a good imitation of her aunt, “the staff is busy with their party preparations. We should continue our walk.”

“You are correct.” Rudolf turned to the cook again, saying, “I can hardly wait for your next meal.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Do you like gingerbread?” Samantha asked, as they left the kitchen.

“I have never eaten it,” the prince answered.

“Gingerbread topped with clotted cream is a taste of heaven,” Samantha told him. “I’ll make you a batch tomorrow.”

The prince looked surprised. “You cook?”

“We didn’t keep servants at the cottage,” Samantha reminded him.

Rudolf smiled. “I will help you make this gingerbread.”

Three more chambers on the first floor awaited their inspection—the marquess’ office, the chapel, and the library. The office was located in the rear of the house and overlooked the gardens. A warm, cozy atmosphere pervaded the room—roaring fire in the hearth, sturdy oak desk, oversized chairs.

“What is that?” Samantha asked, spying the heap of papers tossed on top of the desk.

“Karl packed my business ledgers,” Rudolf answered.

“What kind of businesses?”

“Shipping, mostly.”

“My brother-in-law has shipping lines,” Samantha said.

“Yes, the marquess is part of my competition,” Rudolf told her. “I was hoping you would play your violin while I worked.”

“I would like that,” Samantha said, blushing.

Their next stop was the chapel. Samantha merely peered inside the door and then turned away.

“Would you like to go inside and thank God for something?” Rudolf teased her.

“I don’t need chapels or clergy to speak to God,” she told him. “He hears me no matter where I am.”

The two-storied, loft-style library was their final destination in the Georgian section of the manor, the third level being servants’ quarters. The library was as big as any ballroom Samantha had ever seen.

A large fireplace heated the first section of the room, and the walls sported built-in bookcases from floor to ceiling. In the middle of the room perched a gigantic globe of the world in a wooden stand.

A double archway served as the entrance to an attached reading room with its own marble hearth. Comfortable-looking upholstered and leather seating arrangements filled the room.

“I never saw so many books,” Samantha said, turning in a circle. “My sister Victoria would hate this chamber.”

“She does not like books?”

His tone of voice told her he couldn’t imagine anyone not liking books. She felt the same way but understood her sister’s taste in activities.

“Tory has difficulty reading and ciphering numbers,” Samantha told him. “I think something is wrong with her eyesight. She sees
p
’s instead of
q
’s and
nines
instead of
sixes
.”

“How frustrating that must be.” Rudolf turned to the stairway leading to the second level. “Let us go upstairs.”

The loft-style second level had upholstered and leather benches and chaises against the walls. Sconces and portraits hung above them.

When they turned to retrace their steps downstairs, Rudolf flashed her a charmingly boyish smile. “Watch this.”

Rudolf perched on the well-polished railing and slid to the first level, leaping off at the bottom. Samantha burst out laughing.

“You try now,” Rudolf called.

Samantha shook her head. “I’m afraid.”

“I will catch you.”

Samantha perched sideways on the railing as the prince had done. Laughing all the way, she slid down the banister.

True to his word, Rudolf grabbed her by the waist before she could fall. He lost his balance in the movement and fell, shielding her from hitting the oak floor as they went down.

Samantha lay on top of the prince and laughed. Keeping her within his embrace, Rudolf joined in her merriment.

Without warning, Rudolf placed a hand behind her head to keep her steady and kissed her. Caught up in the moment, Samantha surrendered to her tender feelings for him and returned his kiss in kind. It was the prince who broke their kiss.

“You take my breath away,” he said. “Literally.”

Samantha laughed again and rose slowly from the floor. She held out a hand to help him up. When he seemed to be pulling her down again, she cried, “Don’t you dare.”

Samantha broke free from his grasp and, laughing all the way, ran out of the library as fast as her limp would allow. Rudolf leaped off the floor and bolted after her. Catching her in the corridor, he threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against the side of his body.

“Small moments like this have been missing from my life for a long time,” Rudolf said, planting a kiss on her temple. “Thank you, Princess.”

Samantha responded to the warmth in his voice. She gave him a jaunty smile. “You are welcome, your Highness.”

The second section of Sweetheart Manor had been built during the reign of William and Mary. The upper level served as servants’ quarters, and the first floor had been renovated into a spectacular ballroom. The hardwood floors had been left bare for dancing, and a gigantic crystal chandelier hung over the center of the ballroom. On the far side of the room stood a grand piano.

Rudolf and Samantha crossed the ballroom on their way to the Tudor section of the manor. When they reached the middle of the ballroom and stood beneath the chandelier, Rudolf paused and turned to her.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” Rudolf asked, holding out his hand, mirroring the night they met.

Falling in with his playful mood, Samantha flashed him a smile. “Are your intentions honorable, Your Highness?”

“No.”

“In that case . . .”

Smiling into the prince’s dark eyes, Samantha placed her hand in his and stepped into his arms. With the prince humming a waltz, they swirled around and around the ballroom. How she wished returning to London was not in their immediate future.

“A passing cloud is casting a shadow over your smile,” Rudolf said. “What are you thinking?”

Samantha blushed but said nothing.

“You have a thought you do not wish to share?”

Samantha inclined her head.

“I will demonstrate how I dance with Zara,” Rudolf said. “That will bring the sunshine back to your smile.”

“Zara?”

“My daughter is Zara,” Rudolf told her. “Remove your shoes.”

Samantha gave him a puzzled smile but removed her slippers.

“Stand on my boots,” he instructed her.

Samantha giggled. “You want me to—?”

“Step on top of my boots and hold on to me.”

When she did as instructed, the prince pulled her close. Slowly, much too slowly for a real waltz, he began to dance around the ballroom.

Samantha burst out laughing. Unable to control her mirth, she fell off the top of his boots.

“How odd, Zara has the same reaction when I dance with her,” Rudolf remarked, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile.

Samantha stared at him through blue eyes that shone with love. The prince enjoyed his daughter and was a good father. He was the type of man with whom she had hoped to share a family.

Samantha retrieved her slippers, and they continued their tour. Stepping into the Tudor great hall was like traveling back in time. The floors were wood with no carpeting, and several pieces of furniture had been pushed against the walls in preparation for the servants’ Twelfth Night celebration. A huge fireplace ran along one wall, and unlit torches adorned the walls.

Rudolf removed his waistcoat and settled it over her shoulders. “Let us step into the garden for a few minutes,” he said, taking her hand in his.

Though the garden was winter barren, Samantha could see that it would be lovely the other three seasons. There was a carved semicircular stone seat with winged lion end supports. On the other side of the pond, five Doric columns supported a stone gazebo with wrought-iron cupola. Stone lions stood guard with a sundial on the near side of the pond.

“This must be paradise in summer,” Samantha said.

“My estate on Sark Island is heaven on earth,” Rudolf said. “You must visit me there.”

Samantha forced herself to smile. She didn’t want to think of their lives outside the manor. When the danger had passed, they would return to London and go their separate ways. She would never see Sark Island.

Samantha pointed across the pond. “Look over there.”

A few yards back from the opposite shore of the pond stood an enormous playhouse. Near that, an ancient oak held a treehouse in its branches.

“The marquess must be planning a large family,” Samantha said.

“I always wanted a dozen sons and daughters,” Rudolf said, regret in his voice.

“Your wish may still be granted,” she teased him. “You do possess the Kazanov Venus.”

“I doubt I will marry again,” the prince said, his expression grim. “The pain was too great.”

Returning the way they had come, Rudolf paused near the piano. “You must bring your violin down here and play a duet with me.”

“Do you play the piano?” Samantha asked in surprise.

Rudolf shrugged. “I can carry a tune.”

“Play something for me.”

Rudolf inclined his head and sat on the bench. He flexed his long fingers a few times, which reminded Samantha of how those fingers had played upon her naked flesh.

The prince’s playing combined great strength with gentleness and delicacy. His tune held an irresistibly jaunty air, reminiscent of springtime songbirds and dancing wildflowers.

Samantha leaned against the piano and closed her eyes. She let his melody transport her to another happier place. His energetic playing lightened her spirit and brought a soft smile to her lips. Lord, but she wished for her violin.

Opening her eyes when the music stopped, Samantha saw him smiling at her. “You play divinely, Your Highness.”

Rudolf gave her a devastating smile. “I am certain we will make beautiful music together.”

Samantha was certain of one thing only. She had fallen hopelessly in love with a prince who wore a red silk bedrobe, played the piano divinely, and waltzed with his five-year-old daughter.

An hour later, Samantha sat inside the first-floor office and watched the prince. Rudolf sat at the desk and muttered unhappily in Russian as he tried to bring order to the mountain of papers and ledgers that Karl had dumped there.

“Excuse my impatience,” Rudolf said with a sheepish smile, turning to look at her. “At the moment, I could choke the life from Karl and never feel a twinge of guilt.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Then I would need to train a new driver,” he said. “Fortunately, your soothing presence makes my task easier.”

“You are an incorrigible flatterer,” Samantha said. “Now I know why all those ladies were hovering around you at the Emerson ball.”

Rudolf gave her a boyish smile. “I am guilty as charged.”

Samantha returned her attention to the book on her lap,
The History of the Douglas Family.
She opened the book and began to read.

“What is so interesting, Princess?”

Samantha looked up. The prince had put the mountain of papers into order and sat with one of the ledger books in front of him.

“I am reading about Sweetheart Abbey, from which my family named the manor,” she told him.