Sins of a Wicked Princess (Sinner's Trio)

by Randol, Anna

  “Sommet.” His bravado dissolved. “He kept proof linking me to it. He says he’ll reveal it to the government, if I don’t obey.”

  The English would be up in arms at a foreign royal plotting the murder of its citizens.

  “They might hang me for attempted murder.”

  Even if they didn’t, the scandal would be enormous. The regent would withdraw his support. They’d lose the house and their small stream of income.

  “And if you do what Sommet wants?”

  Gregory groaned. “I’d become king. Sommet claims he has the support to free Lenoria.”

  “Then why won’t he do it with me in control?”

  Gregory’s words were muffled by his cravat as he ducked his chin into his chest. “I may have signed away certain rights to him if he could get Lenoria back.”

  Juliana gripped her bedpost to keep from strangling him. “What, precisely?”

  “The mineral rights in the southern mountains.”

  A princess does not raise her voice. A princess does not raise her voice.

  “Those rights belong to the crown. You have no right—”

  Ah. It suddenly all made sense. “If you were king, then the documents you signed would be binding.” There was gold in those mountains, and more importantly iron, vast amounts of it if the reports were to be believed.

  “Perhaps it would be for the best if I did listen to Sommet, then at least we’d have a country, which is more than we have— Ouch!” he cried as she gripped his ear.

  “You did not just threaten to take my country from me.” The mob ten years ago hadn’t managed it; she wouldn’t allow her brother to.

  Her brother fought to get her to release him. “Ouch. Not really, I swear. That’s why I came to speak to you in the first place. I don’t know what to do.”

  The fight went out of Juliana, and suddenly she was a young girl leading her sobbing brother out of a castle burning with their parents’ bodies still inside.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I will take care of it.”

  Her brother stared up at her. “How?”

  “What documents does Sommet have?”

  “Letters. Letters to a friend where I explain my plans to reveal the identity of those spies.” He fidgeted side to side.

  Juliana frowned. “But how can he release those documents without revealing his part in all of this?”

  “I never mentioned him.” He scrubbed his face. “I may have wanted my friend to think it was all my plan.”

  “Do you have any proof that Sommet was the one who gave you the names?”

  Perhaps she could convince Sommet that he was endangering himself with those letters.

  “No. He always insisted on meeting in person. Nothing is in writing.”

  Blast. But perhaps if she went to Prinny on her knees and explained about her imbecilic younger brother—

  Gregory cleared his throat. “While in my cups, I may have also written a letter demanding we kill the prince regent for sponsoring the Trio.”

  Juliana sucked in a breath. “That is treason.” He truly would hang. She collapsed on the edge of her bed.

  “Juliana?” Gregory asked.

  She had to take three breaths before she could answer. “Where are these letters?”

  Gregory shook his head. “At his country estate, or so he claims. I’m supposed to declare the challenge at his house party next week.”

  “You know the challenge is a formality. If you contest the throne, it will go to you.”

  Gregory swallowed. “I know.”

  That explained the rather impressive list of royals and British noblemen that had been invited to the duke’s house party. There would be no going back after Gregory acted.

  “If I do as he says, he’ll give me the papers afterward.”

  Yes, and she was a dairy maid.

  “Surely there’s someone we can tell . . .” Her words faded. Who? Sommet was one of the most powerful dukes in the country. And how could she tell anyone without explaining Gregory’s part in it all? “We will go to the house party.”

  Gregory blinked. “You aren’t going to cede the crown—”

  She cut him off with a glare. “Of course not. I’m going to get the letters back so he can no longer control you.”

  “How? He won’t listen to threats. You aren’t— You aren’t going to sleep with—”

  She smacked him alongside his head. “I’m going to steal the letters back.”

  Gregory threw back his head and chortled. “You couldn’t even get past Cook to steal a tart—” He quieted. “You’re serious. Juliana, that is insane. You will be caught, and Sommet is not a man to cross.”

  “I will get them back. I swear it. And have I ever broken a promise?” She fixed a stare on her brother when he would have spoken. “Ever?”

  Slowly, he shook his head.

  “You will accept the duke’s invitation on behalf of the royal family of Lenoria and tell him you agree to his plan. You will let him think he has won.”

  A crease crossed Gregory’s forehead. “It might be dangerous. How do you intend to—”

  But Juliana already had a plan formulating in her mind.

  It would either work—or get her killed.

  Chapter Five

  The thing Ian liked about Madeline Huntford was that she always set a good table for breakfast. None of this porridge and coddled egg nonsense. No, Maddie always had the best. Bacon, sausage, cheese, jellies.

  She bounced a gurgling baby girl on her knee. Even though the little girl wasn’t quite a year old, she already promised to be a raving beauty like her mother. Raven ringlets and jade green eyes. “Pay no attention to how much Uncle Ian eats, Susie. Someday he will keel over from the amount of food he shovels into his gut.”

  He eyed her nearly full plate. “You’re one to talk.”

  Maddie grinned. “I’m still eating for two.” Her smile faded. “You have funds, do you not? I thought Clayton—”

  “I’m fine. Clayton’s investments have left me with more money than I could ever spend. I’m just hungry.” He was always hungry. He couldn’t break himself of the fear that all this bounty would simply disappear.

  “Where is your husband this morning? Out harassing good, law-unabiding criminals?” he asked.

  Maddie untangled a lock of her hair from Susie’s fist and addressed her daughter. “Papa liked Mama’s idea that the robberies in Highgate might be linked by the locksmith that arrived to sell them new doors afterward, didn’t he?” She stood and plopped the girl-creature on Ian’s lap. “Watch her for a moment, so I can eat?”

  This wasn’t his area of expertise. The child patted his waistcoat with sticky fingers. A feeling rather akin to panic started in his chest. What if he broke her? He needed the child removed, so he smiled charmingly. “Shall I tell you the story of Buxom Betty? She was a friend of mine. She worked a brothel named— Do you know what a brothel is, little one?”

  Rather than snatch the child back as he’d hoped, Maddie glared. “Do remember I once castrated a man with butter knife.”

  Ian shrugged and started to bounce the child, then stopped. Perhaps that was too much for a little baby. But Susie cooed and giggled so he tried it again. “Adventurous like your mama? Well, when you are older you’ll have to come visit me. I will take you to all the fun areas of London your stuffy father won’t allow.”

  “What won’t Huntford allow?” a deep voice asked. “I am definitely in favor of it.”

  Ian turned as the last member of the Trio, Clayton Campbell, strode into the breakfast room, his elegant blond bride on his arm.

  Maddie smiled. “Clayton. Olivia. What brings you here this morning?”

  Olivia smiled at the other woman for a moment, but then her face creased with concern. “We were going to ask for your help finding Ian, but apparently that won’t be necessary. We found something odd in the paper this morning.”

  “You found.” The pride in Clayton’s eyes would hav
e been nauseating if Ian didn’t take complete credit for the two of them being together. They’d been rather hopeless in St. Petersburg until Ian stepped in and gave them the nudge they needed.

  But still there was only so much a man could take. Ian spoke before they could get lost in each other’s eyes or some other poetic nonsense. “What did you find?”

  Clayton spread a newspaper in front of him and pointed. “Here.”

  Ian read aloud the small advertisement. “Juliana offers information on the Trio for sale to the highest bidder. Wednesday evening. Seven o’clock. At the previous meeting place.”

  Olivia frowned. “It can’t be the Trio, can it?”

  Ian stared at it. What the devil was the woman playing at? The message had to be for him. But what did she want? He had spent all day yesterday confirming that, yes, she had been in Brighton as she’d claimed. Why was she inviting trouble back into her house?

  Into her bedroom?

  Maddie took her daughter back. “Do you understand this, Ian?

  Ian stood, the anticipation in his blood banishing the rest of the effects of another poor night’s sleep. “I believe a certain princess can’t wait to see me again.”

  Chapter Six

  Juliana paced the length of her room one more time, stopping at the window to survey the deepening shadows in the garden below. What if he hadn’t seen her message? It was a gamble—the man might not even be able to read—but it had been the only way she could think of that might reach him. She’d no other ideas.

  Well, if he didn’t come, he wasn’t the man she needed for the job regardless.

  She turned to look at her clock again and gasped.

  He was here.

  Lying in her bed.

  In his shirtsleeves. Looking like every naughty fantasy she’d never, ever admit to.

  Her eyes darted to where his coat hung over the chair.

  How had he—

  She hadn’t been looking out the window for that—

  But she had a more pressing concern. “What are you doing in my bed?”

  He lifted a lazy eyebrow, the rugged planes of his face merry with amusement. At her expense. “Isn’t this why you invited me?”

  “I—”

  “Don’t worry, most women can’t resist me. Though a princess is a first. I bedded a royal duchess once but never—”

  “Out.” This had been a foolish plan from the start. She knew nothing about him. Not even his name. If she’d gotten the impression that there was something noble lurking beneath his surface, she must have been blind. The man was a miscreant.

  “Then I must ask, why do you want me here?” He stood, but prowled closer. So close in fact that she could smell him, a hint of mint and ginger. “I must say I was thankful for all the fellows you had watching for me. I needed a good laugh. Hired extra guards for the occasion?”

  She had, actually. She backed up until the silk wallpaper was pressed against her back.

  His gaze was so intense she couldn’t remember how to breathe. “Was it a trap, Jules?”

  Why did that nickname shiver down her spine? She was a princess. She didn’t have nicknames.

  He raised his hand, caressing her throat, but somehow she knew he could strangle her before she could even scream.

  “It was a test.” He shouldn’t have been able to get in. A servant had been assigned to watch each window. She’d purposefully chosen a time when it was still light out. She had two soldiers planted in the corridor outside her room.

  “Did I pass?”

  She nodded.

  His index finger slid over her bottom lip. She wanted to slap him away. No one had ever touched her lips.

  That was a rather depressing thought, actually.

  His finger paused in the center, dragging her lip down slightly. “So what do I win?”

  His eyes mocked her, yet she couldn’t look away. She cleared her throat. “How did you get in?”

  He shook his head. “It is my turn to ask questions. What do you want, Cinderella?”

  “I want to hire you.”

  “Hire me? For what? Do you need help getting to a ball?”

  “Among other things.”

  His brows drew together at that. “Pardon? That was intended as a joke.”

  “There will probably be a ball at the house party. I haven’t checked. But I need to retrieve something from someone.”

  He stepped back, and she could suddenly breathe. “You want me to steal something.”

  “No, I want you to teach me how to do it.” She’d thought hard about it and she couldn’t risk someone else getting ahold of the letters. Then they’d be no better off than they’d been with Sommet.

  “My skills are a bit more complex than Latin conjugations. They aren’t something you can pick up in a few hours.”

  He was going to refuse her.

  She couldn’t allow that. “I can learn.”

  He plucked at a bit of lace on her bodice, then flicked at a pearl bob on her ear. “I can see you’re made for a life of crime.”

  “Do not mock me.”

  He grinned. “Or what? You’ll embroider me to death? I seem to recall that your punches were ineffective.”

  “If you agree to help me, I will give you the name of the man who betrayed your friends.”

  That silenced him. A cold gleam lit his eye. It obliterated his humor so completely she had to wonder which was his true self.

  “You told me you didn’t know.”

  She was a princess. She would not quake. “I didn’t then. I do now.”

  “Then perhaps I’ll go find the answer myself.”

  She couldn’t let him learn about Gregory. “I can show you the one truly responsible, not the misguided, confused imbecile that might be connected to my household.”

  “And why do you think I won’t just carve the answers from you?”

  That was a very, very good question. A flicker of apprehension licked up her spine. But she lifted her chin. “Because a business deal is far less messy for the both of us.”

  “Messy?” That brought a quirk back to his lips. “If there’s one thing that describes me, it’s fastidious. One of the main characteristics of the gutters. What do you want of me?”

  “I have two requirements.”

  “Oh, do tell.” He waved his hand in an exaggerated motion for her to proceed.

  She clenched her teeth together. “First, you will teach me how to retrieve certain documents without being seen. Second, you’ll agree not to harm the person responsible in my household. You will only pursue the true culprit.”

  “So I let your . . .” He studied her for a moment, then lifted his brow. “Your brother. Your brother, the debauched and foppish Prince Gregory, go unpunished.”

  “He isn’t debauched—”

  “Ah, so it was him. I think I’ll pay him a visit.”

  How could she be such a blind fool? He’d been leading her on. And she’d fallen for it.

  His head tilted as he watched her. “Don’t feel bad for telling me. I’m a professional.” He strode toward her bedroom door, but she lunged in front of him.

  “He isn’t here.”

  “Do you really think it will prove difficult for me to find him?”

  He brushed past her.

  “There are guards in the corridor.” She hated that her voice was so desperate.

  “Really?” He opened the door and stuck his head out. “Hello? Soldiers?”

  “What did you do to them?”

  He shrugged.

  “If you have hurt them—”

  His gaze swept her again, surprised, and she felt utterly naked. Vulnerable. “They are unharmed.”

  Her breath escaped in a rush, but she still couldn’t let him leave. Not if she wanted Gregory to go the night without a knife in his back.

  “Good-bye, Jules.”

  She grabbed him around the waist and yanked him back into the room with all her strength. She must have caught him off guard because he
stumbled back, falling on top of her.

  She couldn’t help the small eep of pain that escaped; neither could she breathe. She struggled to pull in air. She would not suffocate on the floor of her bedroom. That wasn’t a dignified death for a princess.

  He rolled off her. “What the devil was that?” He scowled. “Are you hurt?” He swore and lifted her into his arms as if she was nothing more than a child. He laid her gently on her bed, the mattress creaking as he sat on the edge next to her. He ran his hands over her ribs, then leaned back. “You’re fine. Slowly suck air in. Slow. You’ve just had the wind knocked out of you.”

  She wasn’t so sure he hadn’t broken all her ribs, but she obeyed and, finally, managed a lungful of air. Who would have known he could weigh so much? But then remembering his hard muscles, she shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Hell’s bells but you’re batty.” His handsome face seemed pained. But she couldn’t have hurt him that much, after all he landed on top of her.

  “You cannot go. I need you.”

  His finger traced the edge of her bodice, his lids hooding his eyes. “Darling, many women do.”

  “Argh!” she screeched at him. Actually screeched. It was the most unladylike sound she’d ever made. And why was her skin on fire where he’d touched? “If you help me, I can give you the man responsible for betraying your friends. In a week, I can get you into his house.”

  Her spy’s finger dipped into the hollow above her collarbone. “I can get into any house I desire. And why are you still breathing so hard, Princess?”

  He had to be the most arrogant, insufferable beast she’d ever met. She caught his hand as it wandered again toward her bodice and sat up despite her aching ribs. “I can get you there without any skulking. You can walk in openly and have as much time as you need.” She shouldn’t have sat up. Now her lips were inches from his. Heavens, but he had beautiful lips.

  When they weren’t smirking. Which was basically never.

  “Fine. You’ve won me over. Now tell me who it is.”

  “No.” She wasn’t a complete fool. “I will tell you after you train me.”

  “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”