Sins of a Wicked Princess (Sinner's Trio)

by Randol, Anna

  But she wasn’t left with a choice. So when the coach stopped, she exited with her chin held high and a smile on her face.

  They were barely inside the entry hall when the duke greeted them. He bowed. “Your Highnesses. I’m pleased you decided to accept my invitation.”

  There was nothing unusual about the man. He was of average weight and average height. His white hair was thinning on top but he made no embarrassing efforts to hide the fact. His nose was a trifle large, but it didn’t ruin a face that would have been handsome otherwise.

  And yet something about him made a chill chase all the way over her scalp. She didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was only her knowledge of his plans for her and her country—but no. She hadn’t liked him before, either. Perhaps it was the way his eyes were constantly roving as if searching for something better, or the discontented lines his wrinkles had set into. Or perhaps it was his way of constantly stroking his stomach as he spoke as if it were a pet cat.

  Leucretia stepped forward. “Charles.”

  She offered her hand and Sommet placed a kiss on the back of it. “As enchanting as you were when we met so long ago.” Perhaps it was Ian’s training, but Juliana noticed the quick moue of dislike on Leucretia’s face that was gone as fast as it appeared. So quick that she doubted anyone else even saw it.

  Leucretia pulled her hand away. “Not so long ago.”

  The duke turned to Juliana. “I hope you will enjoy the entertainments I have planned for you.”

  Ian’s training again saved her, keeping the outrage from her face. He no doubt thought himself witty with his words and her none the wiser. And knowing what she did of the man, it was best he continued to think that. He had to think her foolish and weak.

  So she smiled at him and asked in a hesitant voice, “Is Prince Wilhelm here yet?”

  The duke’s expression turned patronizing. “Indeed. He arrived two days ago. Perhaps after you’ve had a chance to refresh yourself, you can join us on the lawn. I can have the pleasure of introducing you.”

  Juliana bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t overacting. “That would be lovely.”

  Leucretia eyed her a bit strangely so she must have done a touch too much, but the duke didn’t seem to notice. His mouth curved into another lips-only smile before passing them off to his servants.

  The room Juliana was escorted to could only be described as sumptuous. The immense room overflowed with mahogany furniture. Thick Turkish carpets warmed the stone floors. Vibrant tapestries covered the walls. The room had a massive stone fireplace that she could have walked inside of if she so chose.

  “I’m to be your lady’s maid while you are here, Your Highness.” A young girl stepped forward. She was dressed neatly in a gray wool dress, her long brown hair braided and wrapped into a chignon at the back of her head. But the poor, thin girl couldn’t be more than ten.

  Where had Ian hired the servants from?

  “What is your name?”

  The girl flushed so red, Juliana replayed her words in her head to make sure they weren’t harsher than she’d intended. But they hadn’t been. And she’d even smiled.

  The maid cleared her throat. “Apple, my name is Apple.”

  A footman knocked on the door, then entered bearing the first of several trunks.

  “I think the pink gown is packed in that trunk. It will work for this afternoon.” It was the least sweltering of her options.

  The young maid found the pink gown and unwrapped it. “I will go see about getting this pressed for you.”

  She scurried through the door before Juliana could ask about a bath.

  There was another knock on the door. Her heart skipped a beat for a moment, hoping it might be Ian. But the door opened to reveal her brother, Gregory. His face was sweaty and his cravat loose. “You missed a fantastic match.” He pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair, then sighed. “The duke thinks I’ve agreed to his plan.”

  “Good. Let him continue to think that. Just don’t agree to sign anything. When does he plan for you to make the claim?”

  “In three days.” For the first time, Gregory looked older than his twenty years. “I’m so sorry for all this.”

  Juliana nodded. “How was your ride here?”

  “Pleasant. We were able to get here before the heat of the day.”

  She picked at some dust on her gown. “Then the new groom seemed adequate?”

  “Yes. He seemed competent.”

  Competent? Couldn’t he give her a bit more information than that?

  She wanted to ask more, but she couldn’t think of a way to do so that wouldn’t raise Gregory’s interest.

  The door opened and her maid scurried back inside. Her eyes rounded when she saw Gregory. She blushed even redder than before and backed out of the room.

  Gregory raised his eyebrow.

  “My new lady’s maid.”

  Gregory straightened. “Then my new valet should be here as well. Capital. The footman who helped me dress earlier didn’t know a thing about tying a proper mathematical.” The dimple on his cheek flashed. “I’ll just have to hope that my new valet’s tall enough to reach my cravat.”

  A few moments after he left, Apple returned. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Juliana shrugged. “It was only my brother.”

  Apple’s mouth gaped. “He was a prince?”

  Juliana had to keep from smiling. “Indeed. If you would please help me with my buttons?”

  The girl carefully laid the dress on the bed, then came to stand behind Juliana. Up close Apple was a bit older than Juliana had first suspected. Thirteen or perhaps fourteen. And she was quite pretty even with the hollows in her cheeks.

  Apple’s hands shook so badly that she struggled a bit with the buttons, but was finally able to free Juliana.

  Juliana waited for her to bring over the washbasin, but the girl simply stood there. After a moment, Juliana stood and carried it over to the dressing table by herself.

  Apple didn’t look at all surprised. Or even aware that Juliana was doing the tasks a maid normally performed. The girl had no idea what a lady’s maid did.

  Yet Juliana couldn’t bring herself to ask if the girl had any experience. She didn’t want to crush her.

  So Juliana poured her own water and washed herself, then removed her own pins from her intricately coiled hair.

  But she didn’t think she’d be able to do it back up again on her own. “Would you mind helping me with my hair?”

  The girl stared at her in horror. “I— Curse Wraith to the darkest pit in hell.” She whirled away and would have bolted for the door if Juliana hadn’t caught her arm.

  “Wait, you know Wraith?”

  The girl blinked back tears, and folded her arms tightly in front of her. “I told him I didn’t have no experience.” The smooth accent she’d used before was gone.

  “Is he . . . is he your father?”

  The girl snorted at that. “As if I has one of those.”

  But it just went to show how little she knew about Ian. He could have a dozen kids, for all she knew. They hadn’t spoken of those sorts of things. “Then how do you know him?”

  Apple shook her head, her jaw tight. “Shouldn’t have listened to him. But the man can twist near anything like a bloomin’ magician. Made it sound like I were doing him a favor. But I should be old enough not to listen to tales of spun gold. The man’s a nutter.”

  “Ian asked you to act as my maid?”

  “There’s no need to dismiss me. I’ll go.” Her small chin lifted.

  “No, if Ian asked you to be my maid, I am definitely keeping you.”

  Apple blinked, but then crossed her arms even tighter. “I can’t do them fancy hairstyles that I’ve seen the other ladies wearing.”

  “Did you do your own hair this morning?”

  The girl frowned. “Yes.”

  “Well, I think that style is perfectly adequate for me.”
<
br />   Apple unfolded her arms long enough to pat the back of her head. “This is what I wore when I was a flower seller, before—” Her eyes darkened, both sad and filled with loathing.

  “Well, I think it is lovely and perfect for an afternoon picnic.”

  The girl hesitated for several long moments, before she stepped away from the door. “Wraith said your last maid wasn’t trustworthy.”

  “Are you?”

  Apple’s gaze didn’t waver. And her accent suddenly regained its polish. “If Wraith asks me to be.”

  Juliana knew the feeling. “Then shall we figure this out together?”

  Apple nodded. After they had pulled Juliana’s dress over her head, Apple began to work, her teeth clamped lightly on her lower lip.

  “So have you seen Ian since you arrived?” Juliana asked, keeping her gaze on the table in front of her.

  Apple nodded, mumbling past the pins she held between her lips. “He stopped me when I arrived to tell me I was to keep to your rooms and gut anyone who tried to enter without permission.”

  She said gut with far too much relish. “Have you had much opportunity to gut people in the past?”

  Apple’s face fell slightly. “No, but I could do it. Or he said I could report anyone suspicious to him, and he’d do it.” She placed the last two pins. “And he would do it, too. I heard that one night he snuck into a rival rookery and killed the lot of them in their sleep. Seventeen of them there were. In the morning, he held a coronation party and named himself the Gutter Rat King. He controlled the western half of London after that.”

  Juliana stared at Apple in the mirror. “When was this?”

  Apple shrugged. “I’m not sure. Long time ago. Perhaps a dozen years?”

  “How do you know of this? You would have been too young to remember.”

  Apple tugged a few wisps of hair loose by Juliana’s face. “Well, he’s a legend. There are a hundred more stories like that. Criminals we have lots of in London, but blokes with flair like that? There’s just Wraith.”

  Juliana tapped an extra pin against the edge of the table. Then how much of this was story and how much of it was truth? “Are any of the stories more recent?”

  Apple smiled slowly. “Now there are even more stories.”

  “Like the one you just told me?”

  Apple smiled. “No. The new ones are far better.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Juliana wanted nothing more than one of the triangle sandwiches from the table to her right. But she knew if she tried, Leucretia would snatch it out of her hand with the speed of a crazed nursemaid. She’d never forgiven Juliana for the time she’d dropped a raspberry tart down the front of her white lace gown at the regent’s Christmas soiree.

  Apparently, she couldn’t be trusted with food unless she was seated.

  Ian would tease her for her hesitance. In fact, if he were here, he would have already slipped an entire tray’s worth into his pockets.

  And found a way to pass her three or four.

  No. She wouldn’t think of Ian.

  She freshened the smile on her face, startling Lord Neromy, who launched into another story about his hounds’ propensity for getting distracted by gooseberry bushes.

  Gregory moved to her side. “If I might steal my sister away for a moment?” He freed her without waiting for a response. “Wilhelm is here.”

  Juliana kept her gaze trained on her brother despite her sudden compulsion to whirl about and look for the other prince. She’d given up on seeing Wilhelm before dinner. Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to leave a piece of music he was composing.

  “What does he look like?”

  Gregory scowled at her. “Like a man? I’m about to introduce you to him. You can form your own opinion.”

  Juliana’s legs wouldn’t move. Which was foolish since Wilhelm was one of the main reasons she’d come. Yet she suddenly had no desire to see him. As soon as she turned, she’d have to pursue him. No matter his appearance. No matter nearly everything. She’d have to do her best to marry this man.

  “Juliana?” Gregory asked.

  Juliana cleared her throat. “My heel was stuck in the grass.”

  She turned.

  And there was Ian. A half smile lifted his lips. Her heart hammered so fast that it took her a moment to notice the impeccably dressed man beside him. He stood several inches taller than Ian. The only hint to his true age was touch of gray at his temples. His jaw was square and his nose straight. His shoulders were broad.

  The man she needed to try to convince to marry her was very handsome.

  And although he tried to hide it, he was incredibly annoyed.

  Ian winked at her, then disappeared back into the crowd.

  Gregory led her to Wilhelm’s side. “Princess Juliana, may I introduce Prince Wilhelm of Prussia?”

  Juliana could feel the gazes of all three of her aunts burning between her shoulder blades. “A pleasure, Your Highness.” She lowered her lashes and tried to look seductive.

  The prince’s pale blue eyes swept past her. He sketched her the briefest of bows. “I was told that Sir Henry wished to speak to me.” He glanced around the tent. “But I do not see him.” His English was excellent with only a hint of a Germanic accent.

  “Do you see me?” Juliana asked.

  Sweet heavens, what was wrong with her? That was not how she planned to woo him.

  Both Gregory and Wilhelm straightened at that.

  After sending her an exasperated glance, Gregory tried to fill the awkward silence she’d created. “I hear you’re working on a new symphony.”

  But Wilhelm’s gaze found Juliana’s for the first time. “For my daughter’s sixth birthday next month.”

  “She wanted a symphony?” Juliana asked.

  For the barest moment, Wilhelm’s stern expression softened. “A kitten, actually. I’m sorry, who are you again?”

  “Princess Juliana Castanova, my sister,” Gregory supplied.

  She curtsied, but she kept it as quick as his bow had been.

  He offered her his arm. “Would you care to accompany me while I look for Sir Henry?”

  “I’d love to.” She kept it simple so she didn’t sound catty again.

  Wilhelm’s eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not. Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely certain herself.

  But she accepted his arm with a polite smile.

  Wilhelm cleared his throat as he led her away. “Sir Henry has a violin in his possession that I’m anxious to obtain. Sommet swore he’s arrived, but I have yet to see him. A groom informed me Sir Henry was ready to meet, but I must have missed him.”

  Ian had lured him down here? “What is so special about this violin?”

  Wilhelm gave a deep sigh. “It is a Stradivarius. Crafted in 1692 by Antonio himself. The tone alone—” He cut off, his face flushing. “It is said to be a particularly fine instrument.”

  They circled the edge of the tent.

  “So is your daughter going to get a kitten?”

  Wilhelm frowned. “A symphony is a far more meaningful gift.”

  She was no expert on children, but she suspected a six-year-old wouldn’t see it that way. “Having been a six-year-old girl once, might I suggest you give her both?”

  He looked as if she’d asked him to cut off his right hand. “Do you think that is necessary?”

  “No. But it would make her happy.”

  Wilhelm’s brows drew together. “Now, I will have to get the cat.”

  They came to a stop by the refreshment table.

  “Would you care for punch?” Wilhelm asked.

  “No, but one of those sandwiches would be divine.” If the prince gave her one to eat, her aunts wouldn’t dare intervene.

  Ian would be proud of her maneuverings.

  Confound it. She wouldn’t think about him now.

  She made sure to brush the inside of Wilhelm’s elbow as she released his arm to accept the small chin
a plate.

  Wilhelm cleared his throat again. “Princess Juliana, I must be frank with you. I fear I’m not skilled in the art of flirtation. I can barely craft a civil compliment. I find little time for anything but my music, but if you’re interested, you may join me in the music room this evening. I will be working with musicians on the first movement of the symphony.”

  Elbow touches were apparently far more powerful than Juliana had given them credit for. “I would enjoy that.”

  Wilhelm bowed over her hand. “I believe I might as well.”

  Then he strode back toward the house.

  Leucretia slid into the gap at Juliana’s side. “That appeared to go well.” She lifted the plate out of Juliana’s grasp and handed it to a footman.

  Juliana let it go without protest, her appetite suddenly gone. It had gone well. And that was the worst part. Wilhelm was handsome and polite. And even if he was lacking in some social graces, he cared deeply for his daughter and was passionate about his music.

  The only thing wrong with Wilhelm was that he was far too possible.

  And he wasn’t Ian.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  He deserved to be sainted.

  Yet Ian gave up that possibility in order to swear freely in every language he knew.

  He should be skulking about the castle, not trying to glean every little detail he could about the prince he’d just delivered to Juliana.

  And he could find nothing wrong with the man. All his servants adored him. The only complaint by some of the other aristos was that he ignored invitations to social events to stay home with his daughter.

  Ian’s only negative was that the prince hadn’t dashed to Juliana’s side as soon as she arrived. What type of red-blooded male could resist her?

  Ian stopped by the stables and checked on Juliana’s horses. Thankfully, his tasks as a visiting groom were minimal. The duke’s grooms already saw to the basics of the stable itself, leaving Ian and three other grooms to tend to ten horses.

  Later, he would be assigned to help take down the tents and move the tables, but for the next few hours, he was free.

  And now it was time to focus on the real reason he was there.