To Charm a Prince (4 page)

“Your horse needs to rest,” Robert said, rising from his chair. “We’re about the same size. You’ll borrow my clothes.”

Rudolf flicked a glance out the window again. Like a siren’s song, the sweetness of the woman playing the violin called to him. “I accept your invitation,” he said. “Would you mind if I walked outside to offer Samantha my best wishes?”

“I’m certain she’ll appreciate that,” the marquess replied, but his concerned expression said something else.

Rudolf inclined his head and started to leave. The duke’s voice stopped him at the door.

“Your Highness, may I ask how old you are?” Duke Magnus asked.

Rudolf glanced at the marquess, who looked as surprised at the question as he felt. “I will be twenty-eight on the fifteenth day of May.”

*    *    *

Trying to clear disturbing thoughts from her mind, Samantha had stopped thinking about Alexander and had let her violin take her wherever it would. Caught up in her music, she closed her eyes and poured all of her heartache and longing into her song.

“My Bulgarian rose.”

Samantha opened her eyes and stared at the prince.

Her heart lurched at the sight of his handsome face, and she couldn’t seem to find her voice.

Was he real, or was she imagining him? Why had he come here today when she was about to announce her betrothal? Was this his idea of a joke?

“I promised to call upon you,” Rudolf said, his voice intimately husky, “but you do not seem pleased.”

“You are slightly tardy, Your Highness.” Samantha steeled herself against him.

“Rudolf,” he corrected her.

Samantha placed her violin and bow into their case. Then she slung the leather strap over her shoulder and stood, saying, “If you will excuse me,
Your Highness
.”

“Sit down,” Rudolf ordered.

“I am not one of your—”

“Sit down, I said.”

Samantha sat down, her cloak opening with the movement. She never felt the cold though. Her blue gaze on him glinted with anger.

“I wish to explain why I never called upon you,” Rudolf told her.

“An explanation is unnecessary.” Samantha forced an insincere smile onto her face.

“Yes, I know,” Rudolf agreed. “I had an emergency.”

“A six-month emergency?”

“I needed to settle my mother and my daughter—”

“You have a daughter?” Samantha interrupted, surprised by his words.

“Interrupting is impolite,” Rudolf said.

Samantha dropped her gaze to the gazebo’s floor and noticed the star ruby had deepened into the color of blood. Was she in danger from the prince? She couldn’t credit that. Perhaps her heart—

“As I was saying,” Rudolf continued, running a hand through his black hair in apparent frustration, “I needed to settle my mother and daughter on the estate I purchased. Several other problems surfaced then.”

“I understand.” Samantha started to rise.

“I have not dismissed you,” Rudolf said, his voice stern with authority.

Samantha stared in surprise at him. Who did he think he was? The bloody King of England? And then she realized that, as a royal, no one had ever refused him anything. Apparently, the prince had led a parochial life. She would love to teach him a lesson, but she was getting engaged and had no time for games.

“You will postpone announcing your betrothal,” the prince told her.

“I will do no such thing.”

“You do not love this Alexander Emerson,” Rudolf said.

“You know nothing about me,” Samantha shot back.

“I know you are as delicate as a Bulgarian rose and as mysterious as Asian jasmine,” Rudolf said, the hint of a smile touching his lips.

“Are you proposing marriage?” she challenged him.

“I cannot offer marriage at this time,” he said. “I want to become better acquainted with you, which I cannot do if you are betrothed to another man.”

“You want me to cancel my betrothal so that you can become better acquainted with me?” Samantha echoed, arching an ebony brow at him.

Rudolf nodded. “That is correct.”

“Your Highness, have you been indulging in spirits?”

“Help. . .”

Samantha whirled around and stared at the woodland behind the gazebo. She glanced at the prince, who was also staring at the woodland.

“Help. . .”

Samantha brushed past the prince and hurried as fast as her limp would allow toward the woodland path. Prince Rudolf was two steps behind her.

“You will wait here,” he ordered, grasping her upper arm.

Samantha shrugged his hand off and kept going. Twilight had already descended inside the dense woodland, and she could barely see where she was going.

“Help. . .”
The cry seemed to be coming from behind them now.

Samantha whirled around in time to see an enormous man cock a pistol at Prince Rudolf. “No,” she cried, starting toward them. Someone grabbed her from behind, but she stomped her assailant’s foot with the heel of her boot.

“Oww, she broke my toes,” a man cried.

“For Gawd’s sake, she don’t weigh more than a few ounces,” a second man said.

“She weighs enough to make me a
Hopping Giles
,” the first man replied.

“Igor.” Samantha fixed her gaze on the giant with the pistol.

The giant flicked a glance at her and said to the prince, “Your ladybird remembers me.”

“You are not easily forgotten,” Prince Rudolf said. “Release the woman before you shoot me. She has no part in my disagreement with Vladimir.”

Igor remained silent for a moment. “I cannot release her now that she has recognized me, but I will not murder a prince, either. If Vladimir wants you dead, he will need to do it himself.” He gestured to the path, ordering, “Turn around and start walking.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Samantha cried, her panic rising. “I’m announcing my betrothal tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” Prince Rudolf said, “but you are not a princess. Igor would suffer no qualms about shooting you.”

Igor pointed the pistol at her as if to emphasize the prince’s words. Samantha curled her lips at him but fell into step beside the prince.

With the two men in the lead and Igor pointing the pistol on their backs, Samantha and Rudolf walked through the woodland. Her limp slowed them down, but fifteen minutes later they emerged from the woods and saw a coach waiting on the road. The sun had set outside the woodland, and dusk was rapidly darkening into night.

One of the men opened the coach door and gestured them inside. Samantha hesitated, saying, “I really must protest—”

Igor leveled the pistol at her, and Samantha climbed into the coach. The prince climbed in and sat beside her.

Igor slammed the door. A moment later, the coach started up.

“I’m sorry for involving you in this,” Rudolf said, putting a comforting arm around her. “I promise to rescue you from death.”

Samantha looked at him. His handsome face was barely visible within the darkness of the coach. “I’m getting engaged.”

“Not tonight.” Prince Rudolf gave her a satisfied smile.

Samantha leveled a disgruntled look on him and, whirling away, fell back against him.

She felt the prince’s arms going around her and jerked herself into an upright position. After giving him a warning look, she turned away. This time she held on to the edge of the seat lest she fall on the floor or the prince’s lap.

Samantha pulled her fur-lined cloak tightly around herself. How had she managed to get herself involved in this untenable situation? More important, how would she extricate herself?

She had passed her entire eighteen years living in the shadows cast by her talented older sister, who wanted revenge, and her vibrant younger sister, who wanted fun.

Nobody ever noticed her, and she had never thought she would be fortunate enough to marry and have her own family.

Along had come Alexander Emerson, who wanted to make amends for his father’s crimes against her family. Alexander didn’t love her, but he would have made a good husband.

And now? Even if she survived this, her reputation would be ruined. No man would marry her after she had disappeared with a Russian prince, not even Alexander Emerson. To think her dream had been within her grasp, and now it was slipping through her fingers . . .

Samantha lost control of her emotions. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and then a sob escaped her throat.

“I am sorry,” Prince Rudolf whispered against her ear.

Samantha felt his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. His breath was warm on the side of her cheek, and his sandalwood scent teased her senses. She turned toward him and saw the handkerchief he was holding out to her.

Regaining control of herself, Samantha lifted the handkerchief out of his hand. “I apologize for crying. Weeping never solved a problem.”

“Tears purge the soul of negative humors,” the prince said. “I know you are frightened, but we will have an opportunity to escape.”

“I fear nothing, Your Highness, not even Igor,” Samantha told him, feigning courage. “I have no intention of waiting for an opportunity to escape. Douglases make their own luck.” Even in the darkness, she saw the white of his teeth when he smiled at her bravado.

“What shall we do?” the prince asked. “Leap out of a moving coach? We would only kill ourselves.”

“We’re going to die anyway,” she reminded him.

“I think not.”

“If I wasn’t with you,” Samantha asked, “what would you do?”

Rudolf smiled at her. “I would leap out the door.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“The violin will injure you in the leap,” Rudolf told her. “You will need to leave it behind.”

Accustomed to the darkness now, Samantha looked him straight in the eye. “Your Highness, I and my violin are going out that door. With any luck, I can make it back to the duke’s residence in time to save my reputation and my betrothal.”

“Very well, but I will carry the violin,” Rudolf acquiesced. “Listen carefully to my directions. When I open the door, you must jump at an angle away from the direction the coach is traveling. Tuck in your head, arms, and legs so you will not be run over. Roll away from the road when you hit the ground. Do you understand?”

Samantha made no reply. His words “so you will not be run over” echoed within her mind. The memory of excruciating pain flittered through her mind. Panic and dread paralyzed her resolve to escape the coach.

“Do you understand?” the prince asked again, yanking her free of her memory.

Samantha nodded and repeated his directions. “Jump away from the coach, tucking my extremities, and roll when I hit the ground.”

“I will jump immediately after you.” Rudolf reached for the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. He looked at her and shrugged. “Igor locked it.”

“Let me try,” Samantha said, reaching across his body.

“Do you think you have more strength than I?” the prince asked.

Samantha dropped her hand to her lap and sat back against the seat. “Do you have any ideas?”

“None at the moment.” Prince Rudolf gave her a devastating smile.

“How can you be so cheerful in the face of death?” His smile irritated her.

“I am actually relieved,” the prince admitted. “The locked door precludes injury.”

“I am not as delicate as you think,” she said.

“I was considering the chance of injury to myself,” he told her.

Samantha felt the heated blush rising on her cheeks and was thankful for the darkness inside the coach. Dropping her gaze to his mouth, she recalled how his lips felt covering hers. What a fool she’d been to believe that a prince would call upon her. She would never give her imagination free rein again. However handsome the prince was, he was not the man for her.

“Our continued good health does not concern me,” Rudolf told her. “The star inside your ruby is formed by three benign spirits—faith, hope, and destiny.”

“Destiny’s spirit doesn’t seem benign to me tonight,” Samantha said, a rueful tone in her voice.

“Your destiny lies not with Alexander Emerson,” the prince said.

“Apparently, my destiny is to die with you,” Samantha said. “By the way, why does this Vladimir want you dead?”

“That is none of your business.”

Samantha couldn’t believe she was going to her grave without knowing the reason. She had the right to know her murderer’s motive.

“Did Alexander—” The prince hesitated for a moment. “Did Alexander give you the ruby?”

“That is none of your business,” Samantha said, tossing his words back at him.

“Refrain from disrespect, young lady.”

Lifting her nose into the air, Samantha moved to sit on the seat opposite him. The prince moved when she did, joining her there. When she started to switch to her original seat, Rudolf put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her back against his body.

“You cannot escape me, my love,” Rudolf whispered against her ear.

Love?
His choice of words wounded her. Was this a cruel joke? Or was he trying to make a doomed woman feel better?

“I apologize for failing to call upon you,” Rudolf said. “Family obligations prevented me from doing what my heart desired.”

Samantha heard the regret in his voice against him. “You owe me no apology or explanation.”

“When I met you, I sensed that you understood great pain,” Prince Rudolf said, his hand on her shoulder beginning a slow caress. “I have suffered pain in my life, too.”

Samantha sighed. “I suppose no one lives without pain, even princes.”

“Especially princes.”

“We may as well become acquainted while we wait to die,” Samantha said. “Tell me about your family.”

“I moved my English mother and my daughter to England after losing my wife,” Rudolf told her. “Upon her brother’s passing, I had inherited Montague House.”

“Losing your wife must have been difficult,” Samantha said. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“I have four younger brothers,” Rudolf told her. “Vladimir and Viktor are twins. Then comes Mikhail and Stepan.”

So this Vladimir is his brother.
“What about your father?” she asked. “Is he deceased?”