Sins of a Wicked Princess (Sinner's Trio)

by Randol, Anna

  To castigate himself more viciously.

  He hadn’t intended to let Juliana find out that way. Hell, he wasn’t even certain if he ever would have told her at all. They had only two days left.

  Now those would be lost.

  Juliana stepped aside as her aunt approached. The older woman didn’t blanch at all when she saw Gregory’s injuries.

  “What happened?” Eustace asked.

  Gregory had enough wits to guard his answer. “I was in a foolish, drunken brawl.”

  Rather than berate him, Eustace bent over the prince. Ian had known enough to check for cracked ribs. But Eustace was slow and methodical, tracing the outlines of organs, listening to his heart, and gauging swelling. “My bag,” she said to Canterbury.

  Canterbury handed her a small black bag. “Certainly, Your Highness.” That had sounded downright worshipful.

  For a moment, Ian was distracted from the rage and anguish eating his insides like starving rats.

  Had Eustace’s cheeks pinkened?

  Eustace reached in the bag and pulled out a small vial of ink, which she used to mark the contours of one bruise over Gregory’s liver.

  “I think his organs were spared, but I’ll keep an eye on this particular swelling for the next few hours.”

  “I’m most desirous to lend assistance if you wish it, Your Highness,” Canterbury said, no longer appearing as if he was going to pass out. Which was unusual. Canterbury was as squeamish as they came about injuries of any sort. Once when Ian’s mother pricked herself while sewing, Canterbury had fainted—

  No. Ian was not going to start thinking of the past.

  This was why he avoided his former butler.

  Eustace turned to Ian. “You may go now. Thank you for your assistance.” This was the second time he’d been dismissed by Juliana’s family.

  Perhaps Juliana would want him to obey this time.

  But as long as there was a threat to her, she was stuck with him.

  “He’s my minister of security,” Juliana said.

  Ian wondered if she was just remaining true to her story.

  And the rather depressing thing was that the title he invented for himself changed nothing in Eustace’s eyes. Oh, he had no doubt she’d question Juliana later, but it provided no reason for Ian to stay with the family in this room.

  He wasn’t important enough for that. He never was.

  Ian bowed and strode into the corridor. He would listen from the darkness as he always did. Apple was waiting outside the room. She was staring straight ahead, rocking back and forth from foot to foot. He put a hand on her shoulder.

  Apple shrieked, flailing and stumbling back. “Don’t touch me.” But then she buried her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes so hard Ian feared she’d damage them. But he also knew better than to try to touch her again right now.

  Juliana ran out of her brother’s room.

  Of course she did. She heard someone screaming, and rather than cowering like any sane woman would, she went to investigate.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Apple hugged her arms tightly around herself, her body trembling.

  “What—”

  But Apple needed time to recover. “Let’s get her to your room,” Ian said.

  Thankfully, Apple allowed Juliana to guide her. And Juliana remained silent until they were in her room.

  She settled Apple on the edge of the bed and tucked the blanket around the trembling girl.

  “Are you all right?”

  Apple seemed to struggle to breathe, still trapped by short, rapid pants.

  Ian knelt before her, careful to keep his distance but moving into her line of sight. “Listen to me, Apple. I need you to slow your breathing.”

  Apple’s eyes grew even more panicked.

  “I know your body seems out of control but you can do this. Breathe with me. In . . . two . . . three . . . Out . . . two . . . three.”

  After about a dozen breaths, she finally clawed her way back to control. “It was just— I saw his chest— I was back there—and stupid. I’m not—not scared of him.”

  Juliana wrapped her arms around the girl. “Bad memories?”

  Apple nodded.

  “I don’t know what yours are and I will not pry. But can I tell you what I do when I fight my own?”

  “You are a princess.” The disbelief and despair were evident in Apple’s tone.

  “When I was twelve, a mob stormed my family’s home.”

  A mob that Ian had helped to spur. A mob that was carefully controlled by a few hired mercenaries who’d been positioned to keep the townspeople out of control.

  Did Juliana truly realize the implications of who he was? How much of it he had personally done?

  “What did you do?” Apple asked, eyes shocked.

  “I was playing with my brother in the nursery when we heard the shouts. I came down to see what was amiss.” Juliana’s voice was calm, no doubt for Apple’s benefit. Then she shook her head. “You don’t want to know the details.”

  But Apple did. “Was it terrible? Were you frightened?” There was a plea in her voice. A plea to know that she wasn’t alone in her fear. That she wasn’t weak for being afraid.

  “Yes. To both. As I watched over the balcony, one of the men grabbed my mother by the hair while another man pushed a rifle into her mouth and pulled the trigger.” She spoke to Apple but her eyes burned into his, forcing him to know the full extent of the horror he’d inflicted.

  Ian’s gut rearranged itself into something unrecognizable. He’d been in enough battles to hear the screams that must have echoed. To smell the gunpowder.

  His hands curled at his sides as he imagined young Juliana peering through the balustrades on the balcony.

  Her parents were going to side with the French. He’d seen the proof with his own eyes. He’d give anything to have spared Juliana from that horror. But he’d saved countless British soldiers. If the French had gained access to the iron in those mountains, the war could have ended far differently.

  “One of the men set a torch to the drapes. That is when I ran back for my brother and escaped.”

  “But you still have those memories?” Apple asked. “They don’t go away?”

  Ian eased away; both females had forgotten his existence for the moment.

  “No, but when they come back, I remind myself that I have already survived them. That I could have died with my parents, but I was stronger than that. And I suspect if you’re here, then you were stronger than something and someone, too.”

  Apple’s lips firmed as she latched on to the thought.

  Hell, Juliana needed to be more than the queen of Lenoria, she needed to be in charge of the entire world.

  Apple smiled up at her, her body now quivering only slightly. When Juliana covered the girl’s hands with her own, his heart flopped like a fish just pulled from the barrel.

  Damn it all to bloody, blasted, bedeviled hell.

  He loved her.

  Ian walked to the door, catching Juliana’s eye and nodding before fleeing outside.

  He was a bloody, bloody halfwit to fall in love with a woman who didn’t want him. How could she?

  But as worthless as he might be, he was more than a match for Sommet. And he’d keep Juliana safe from him.

  Gregory had reminded him just how dangerous the duke could be. Even to Juliana. Time for a slow revenge was over. He needed Sommet obliterated.

  Ian would get Juliana as far away from this mess as possible so she wouldn’t be contaminated by his actions.

  And then Ian would deal with Sommet in the best way he knew how.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Juliana finally calmed Apple. She’d tried to get her to agree to rest for the remainder of the day, but Apple had refused.

  So Juliana sat while Apple arranged her hair.

  Leucretia. Juliana held on to that thought as a million thoughts buffeted about her mind. She refused to give in to the despair that whi
rled about her, tugging at her, shoving, pulling.

  Ian.

  She didn’t know how to feel. Part of her was shattered in small fragments too fragile to examine.

  Yet part of her understood. She knew what it was to make decisions that ended in death.

  She exhaled and focused again on her aunt. Leucretia was the key to this puzzle or at least part of it.

  Her aunt was hiding something, and while Juliana had no power over the duke, she did have some power over her aunt.

  Her tumult over what Ian had revealed only reinforced her original thoughts—this was something she had to do on her own. She couldn’t rely on anyone else. She had to be strong enough to manage. After all, if she couldn’t keep her country, then she wasn’t fit to rule it.

  Besides, Leucretia was her responsibility and if she was involved, Juliana wanted to take care of it privately. The situation with Lenoria was precarious. She didn’t want to show her enemies just how divided the royal house might be.

  So when Constantina burst into the room, her cheeks flushed, to tell Juliana that Wilhelm was in the breakfast room, Juliana coaxed her to sit down for a moment before returning.

  Juliana did her best to smile conspiratorially—Constantina loved a good intrigue. “I saw Sommet heading toward Leucretia’s room last night.” Juliana disliked being duplicitous to gain information about her own aunt.

  But for Lenoria she’d do anything.

  Constantina sucked in a heaving breath, her ample bosoms threatening to jiggle out of her gown. “Was she? I thought she was finished with him.”

  “So she did have a relationship with him before?”

  “Yes, but long ago. Back in Lenoria.”

  “Why was the duke in Lenoria?”

  Constantina shrugged. “The war with Napoleon was getting nasty. Lenoria would have provided a fine ore for the French.”

  “But my father planned to side with the British. We discussed it many times.”

  Constantina frowned, confused, and Juliana was reminded that this aunt might not prove the most useful. “Then I don’t know what else happened. The duke was angry about something when he left. Or was that the French ambassador? Although Leucretia already seemed to know the duke when he arrived. So perhaps earlier than that? Well, either way you had better hurry if you want to catch Wilhelm.” Constantina stood and held out her hand. “Did he kiss you last night?”

  “No.” But another man had. A man who was responsible for what happened to her parents. A man who’d calmed a terrified girl without hesitation. A man who’d rushed to tend the injuries of a man he hated.

  She’d thought this new revelation about Ian would allow her to free herself from him. How could she care for the man who’d been behind all the horrible things that had happened to her?

  But she still did.

  Apparently her heart did not know the meaning of a lost cause.

  Juliana smoothed a hand down her blue silk frock. A dress she’d changed into because Apple had reported that Wilhelm—the man she should wed—was going to wear blue.

  She gripped Constantina’s hand, and her aunt patted her on her arm. “He’ll come around soon. If not, your brother could always become king.”

  “What?” Juliana froze.

  “Gregory would make a dashing king, wouldn’t he?”

  Juliana advanced a step. “Why do you think my brother might become king?”

  “Brothers have done it before. And I heard Leucretia arguing with the duke about it this morning.”

  Leucretia had been arguing over it? A small weight lifted from her heart. Then perhaps her loyalties weren’t as divided as Juliana had feared.

  “Come, come. As I said, you must hurry if you are going to catch Wilhelm before he leaves.”

  “Wait, leaves? The breakfast parlor?”

  “No, the castle. He said something about a violin.”

  Juliana let go of Constantina’s hand and hurried ahead. She reached the breakfast parlor just as the prince was exiting.

  He stopped and bowed. “Juliana. I was about to come request an audience. I’m afraid I must take my leave. Sir Henry informed me that I’d be able to purchase the violin, but that he’d neglected to bring it with him as I’d thought. We ride to his estate this morning. We’ll return on Friday evening.”

  “Can’t the violin wait?” Juliana kept her voice light.

  Wilhelm’s expression turned a bit sheepish. “I’ve tried to purchase this violin from Sir Henry before, only to have him change his mind. I won’t risk that again.”

  Another idea snaked into her thoughts. “When did Sir Henry tell you of his decision?”

  “Only this morning. It was rather sudden or I would have warned you of my departure last night.”

  Most likely Sommet had decided not to take chances with Juliana’s marital options.

  “But may I be so bold as to ask you to save me a dance at the ball on Friday?” Wilhelm asked, a hint of uncertainty on his face.

  Might she be so bold as to beg him to stay? To propose now and end all this? What if she explained the situation to him? Would he agree to marry her to help her?

  But to do so would place him in danger of Sommet’s wrath, and she couldn’t do that to him. Not when he had a daughter to care for.

  And as soon as she committed herself to Wilhelm, she’d have to sever her ties with Ian completely. And she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. She had two days with him.

  And despite everything, she wasn’t going to waste them.

  Those two days were going to last her a lifetime.

  So she nodded. “I look forward to it.” She bid good-bye to Prince Wilhelm, then entered the breakfast room.

  Sommet was there, sitting at the head of the table speaking to some young girl who couldn’t have been more than seventeen. Sommet looked up at Juliana as she entered, his smile like a dagger digging under her ribs.

  So she smiled back and helped herself to a plate of food she’d never be able to eat. Abington appeared at her side. He looked a trifle poorly, his eyes bloodshot. And when someone replaced a lid with too much force, he winced.

  “I’m surprised to see you this early.” That was tactful at least.

  “I wouldn’t be here if our mutual friend hadn’t ordered me to move my blooming arse down to the breakfast room to watch over the only person who kept him from burning down the house. In a rather foul mood this morning, he is.”

  Abington knew Ian? How?

  But Sommet stood and tapped his spoon on the side of his cup. “My dearest guests, I’m pleased to inform you of an exciting addition to our ball tomorrow night. The ambassadors of Spain and France have agreed to join us. You can thank Princess Juliana for their willingness to attend.”

  The countries that wanted rip to hers in two.

  The ten or so other guests in the room applauded politely and smiled at her.

  Juliana debated whether she could throw her fork hard enough to stab Sommet in the eye. He lifted his glass to her in the slightest of mock toasts.

  “Don’t give him anything,” Abington murmured. “And your friend wants to meet with us in my rooms as soon as we leave here.”

  Juliana nodded, but laughed as if Abington had said something witty. “I look forward to it.”

  A hint of admiration entered Abington’s eyes before he wandered over to chat with the Marchioness of Lionsbury.

  “What do you look forward to?” Sommet asked. He took her plate from her and led her to the table.

  “The hunt later today.”

  “You are a bloodthirsty type of female then?”

  “When necessary. It’s strange that the ambassadors will be making the trip solely for a ball.”

  Sommet lifted his brows. “Ah, but they have told me how eager they are to have things resolved.”

  “Then tell them to leave my country alone.”

  “They’re willing to.”

  “What?” She was too shocked to hide her reaction.

  “
They have told me they’re willing to support a strong king.”

  Oh, the bastard. Gregory had said Sommet had some way to force the other countries to comply, but she’d thought it was another one of the duke’s lies.

  Was it the truth then?

  Uncertainty clawed at her thoughts. If this was true, perhaps it was better to let Gregory have the crown. If Lenoria could be free, even if she wasn’t the one on the throne, she could return and help the people.

  “It’s better this way, little princess. Isn’t having your country free of foreign influence more important than your desire for power? Think of it. By Friday night, Lenoria could be free and independent once again. No bloodshed. No lost territory.”

  She wanted to press her hands over her ears and stop his words entering her mind. From tempting her.

  But the man was far too good at this. And he knew it.

  “You can still help your people even if you were not their sovereign. Your brother would need your counsel.”

  But what would Sommet ask in return? What had he already bargained for? “Would my brother also have your counsel?”

  “I have no interest in running your country. I only need my contracts. Contracts that will enrich the country and the royal coffers.”

  The man had a gilded tongue and the subtlety of a snake in the garden. She had a new sympathy for her brother. Perhaps she should have had a little more understanding for his weakness.

  The brother who was lying upstairs because this duke had arranged his beating.

  She would not let the duke sway her.

  Sommet leaned closer. “You carry too many burdens on your shoulders. Imagine if you could let them all go.”

  “What do you want in those mountains? The gold?”

  He chuckled. “Hardly. Gold is near worthless compared to the mountain’s other riches.”

  She stared at his smug expression. “The iron.”

  He shrugged.

  “People have lived there for centuries. I won’t let them be displaced for the sake of your mines.”

  He had the audacity to reach over and cut the ham on her plate like she was an infant in the nursery. “Sorry, my dear. But there haven’t been people in those mountains in over a decade.”