Princess Charming

by Nicole Jordan

  Without opening his eyes, Jack spoke upon their entrance. “Do edify us, Kate. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait till morning? You are interfering with my beauty sleep.”

  She laughed lightly. “Pardon me for disturbing your rest, but we have a crucial situation at hand.”

  Bestirring himself to sit up, Jack swung his long legs over the edge of the sofa. “Very well, but pray, make it fast. I have a curricle race early tomorrow.… In less than five hours, in fact.”

  With a glance at the sleeping Lord Cornelius, Katharine moved over to the large library table where they’d held many a Wilde family conference in the years since their parents’ tragic demise. Ash sat at one end, at the head of the table, Quinn at the other, with Kate and Skye between them. Jack joined the council but declined a chair, instead resting one hip on the tabletop itself, facing Katharine.

  All the Wilde cousins regularly came to London each Season, but they were not often together as a family anymore. Katharine still resided with Ash and their Uncle Cornelius, either at the London house in Grosvenor Square or the magnificent Beaufort family seat in Kent. Jack had his own house nearby in town, since as a bachelor he’d wanted his own abode so he could come and go as he pleased. And Quinn and Skye resided together at the Traherne mansion in Berkeley Square when they weren’t at their palatial country manor in Kent.

  Both noble estates were situated some forty miles east of London, within an easy drive of each other. Being raised in the same district had fostered a tight-knit kinship that was unusual among distant cousins, even before their households had been combined under Lord Cornelius’s guardianship.

  “So what is afoot?” Ash asked, breaking the silence.

  Katharine clasped her fingers together, looking uncharacteristically hesitant all of a sudden. “You may be wondering why I called you together.…”

  Quinn gave a chuckle. “Out with it, love. You are trying our patience.”

  “Very well. I suppose I should start by reminding you of our family lore. You know that we Wildes only marry for love—”

  “What does it matter, why we marry?” Jack interrupted.

  Katharine frowned at him. “I will tell you if you give me the chance.”

  Guessing where the conversation was headed, Ash hid a wince. In the past dozen years, Kate’s romantic notions had been a source of both amusement and discomfort for the family, particularly him, since he was often the target of her matchmaking. But he’d learned to deflect her schemes, so he was prepared to indulge her now.

  Clearing her throat, she continued. “According to family legend, we Wildes never lose our hearts readily, but when we find our one true mate, we love passionately and for life. Quite a number of our ancestors were celebrated lovers, including all of our parents. But none of us has found true love yet.”

  Ash saw her glance around the table as if expecting an objection, but no one disputed her claim. Thus far, none of the current generation of Wildes had been struck by love, despite having ample advantages and multiple opportunities.

  “And why haven’t we fallen in love?” Katharine asked rhetorically. “Because we have not met our true mates yet. The thing is, I think I have hit upon a way to solve our problem.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had a problem,” Ash said.

  “Certainly we do. Life is passing us by, Ash, and we are very likely missing our chance at happiness.”

  “Go on,” he directed noncommittally.

  “We have only to look to legendary lovers in history,” Katharine explained. “Literature is filled with classic, timeless tales of love that can lead us to find our own matches. In short, I am proposing that we attempt to follow in the footsteps of the world’s greatest lovers.”

  The silence that greeted her suggestion was accompanied by blank stares and several pairs of raised eyebrows.

  “I have researched very carefully,” Katharine went on doggedly, “and have spent countless hours quizzing Uncle Cornelius about various possibilities to fit our needs. His vast store of knowledge has proved invaluable.”

  “What classic tales are you speaking of?” Skye asked.

  Katharine answered readily. “Oh, you know—from Greek mythology, renowned authors such as Shakespeare, even fairy tales. In fact, based on my research, I believe I can identify several possible ideal matches for us right here and now.”

  In response, the differing expressions from her family members ranged from amusement to scorn. Ash felt his own mouth curl in a wry smile. Leave it to Kate to still astonish them in unexpected ways.

  “Of all the bird-witted notions,” Jack commented, “that takes the ultimate prize.”

  Katharine fixed a scowl on her dubious adopted brother. “I knew I would have difficulty convincing you all of my theory, especially the first time—”

  “I should say so,” he drawled.

  She held up a hand. “Just pray hear me out.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, Jack left his perch on the table and slid into an empty chair while crossing his arms over his broad chest. Quinn leaned back, observing her from under half-lowered eyelids, his skepticism obvious.

  Only Skye seemed willing to encourage Katharine’s romantic flights of fancy. “I think your theory sounds very intriguing, Kate. I should like to hear more.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a look of gratitude. “Now where was I?”

  “You said you have identified possible matches for us.”

  “Yes, based on legendary lovers.” Her gaze shifted to Ash. “I think your match is Maura Collyer.”

  After an incredulous pause, he laughed outright at that. “I suppose you mean to tell me why you specifically chose her.”

  Katharine nodded eagerly. “You are aware of Perrault’s tale of Cinderella? Well, Cinderella had a wicked stepmother and two stepsisters, just as Maura does. In truth, the moment Uncle Cornelius mentioned Perrault, I immediately thought of her. When we were at school together, I sometimes roasted Maura about her family situation. But I never thought it would prove the perfect sign of her compatibility with you.”

  “I gather that you are acting as her fairy godmother?” Ash asked sardonically, a guess that was confirmed when Kate nodded again. “At least that explains why you requested your ball under false pretenses. That was your underhanded way of contriving an encounter between me and Miss Collyer.”

  Kate had the grace to look a trifle guilty then. “Yes, but I knew better than to tell you of my plan beforehand, Ash. You would have scoffed and told me to go to the devil.”

  “Which is exactly what I mean to do now. You can’t seriously expect me to play the role of prince to her Cinderella.”

  “I only want you to keep an open mind.…”

  When he didn’t immediately respond, Kate’s tone turned imploring. “Truly, Ash, she could be your perfect mate. You know Maura is nothing at all like the young misses who drive you to distraction with their witless chatter. She has brains and beauty and spirit, and she can ride like a centaur,” Kate added, singing her friend’s praises. “She is far ahead of her time, managing a breeding stable, and independent enough that she would never chase after you for your fortune and title.”

  Nothing like other young ladies indeed, Ash thought, remembering Maura’s unconventional actions earlier tonight.

  “Moreover, she is an orphan, like we are.”

  “Is that supposed to arouse my sympathy?”

  “Yes, of course. We Wildes know how painful it is to lose our dearest loved ones.”

  In self-defense, Ash tried a different tack. “If you are so convinced of the brilliance of your theory, Kate, why don’t you go first?”

  “Because your tale presented itself first. It is staring us right in the face. Besides, you are the eldest. You have more than fulfilled your duty as head of the family, Ash. You’ve taken care of all of us for years, and it is time you looked out for yourself.”

  “I am looking out for myself.”

  “Not well enough. You hav
e never given love a chance, but you need to do so now.”

  “So says the spinster.”

  Despite being the wealthy daughter of a marquis, Katharine was considered practically on the shelf, having turned down countless offers of marriage because, she claimed, she had never found the man who could prove her match and she wouldn’t settle for anything less than true love.

  “Yes,” she countered, “but it is not for my lack of trying. I simply have never met the right candidate. And you haven’t either. I know you will never agree to look for a bride from among this Season’s crop of insipid debutantes. You would certainly never have to worry about Maura being insipid.”

  Ash glanced at the others. Quinn had relaxed upon realizing he wasn’t the immediate target of Katharine’s madcap schemes, and amusement wreathed his mouth. Jack also appeared more sanguine and seemed to be enjoying seeing his elder brother under the gun.

  Skye spoke again, giving Ash a reprieve. “You said you have tales in mind for the rest of us, Katharine. What is your legend to be?”

  Katharine made a face, followed by a self-deprecating smile. “I expect I will have to settle for Shakespeare’s comedy, The Taming of the Shrew. You know my temperament. And my name is even spelled like the Bard’s Katharine.”

  Jack leaned over and pulled a lock of her flame-dark hair from her elegant coiffure. “And whom do I get for my match?”

  “Oh, I have the perfect candidate in mind for you, mon frère, Jacques. But you probably won’t like it,” Katharine warned.

  “I expect I won’t. I know you too well. But enlighten me anyway.”

  “Well, then, it is Romeo and Juliet.”

  “The devil I will,” Jack responded roundly. “I’m not playing the role of the tragic lover who dies.”

  Katharine gave a short laugh. “Of course you won’t die in your ending. What kind of ideal romance would that be? But trust me on this, Jack, you will reconsider once you meet your Juliet. She is quite beautiful.”

  “Who is it?”

  “No, I am not telling you. Not when you are so mulishly determined to be closed-minded.”

  “What about me, Katharine?” Skye asked curiously.

  Kate looked to her cousin. “I haven’t determined your tale yet, Skye, but I am working on it. But Quinn, I think you will have Pygmalion and Galatea. You know, the Greek myth depicted in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, where a sculptor comes to love his ivory creation so deeply that the gods take pity on him and bring her to life.”

  Quinn inclined his head while eyeing her narrowly. “I know the tale, but you have gone stark raving mad if you think I will fall in love with a statue.”

  While Ash chuckled, Jack chimed in. “Yes, it’s clear our dear Kate is suffering from a brain fever. I hope it isn’t catching.”

  “I cannot believe my own flesh and blood is so craven,” Kate retorted. “You are not behaving like Wildes at all. You know that we prefer to take fate into our own hands rather than have it act upon us. It is up to us to shape our own destinies. I am willing to help, but I can only do so much. For my theory to work, you each have to be responsible for meeting your match and making your particular tale come true.”

  When no one replied to her suggestion, she gave a huff of exasperation. “What do you have to lose? Treat my mad idea as a game, if you like. Or a challenge. You have always relished a challenge, Ash. All I am asking is that each of you have one significant encounter with your possible match. Then you can decide whether to pursue your legend further.”

  Ash wouldn’t mention that he’d already had a significant encounter with Maura this evening … one that had led to a heated embrace and roused his primal male instincts with a vengeance. He’d unwittingly played right into Kate’s hands, and he wasn’t inclined to continue any further, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else.

  Before he could refuse, however, Quinn claimed Katharine’s attention by rising and planting a light kiss on her temple. “If we are quite done … I shall leave it to Ash to be your test subject. Like Jack, I have an early morning.”

  Jack also got to his feet, but he patted Kate’s shoulder in an avuncular way meant to provoke her. “If you expect me to play along, sweet shrew, you will have to come up with a better tale for me.” He looked to Ash. “Let us know what you discover, brother.”

  The two men excused themselves, with Quinn striding out purposefully and Jack strolling more slowly while shaking his head in disbelief.

  Skye sent Kate an apologetic smile. “I, for one, am very curious to see if your theory works.” True to form, Skye was the only one who was remotely interested in following Kate’s lead.

  Across the library, Lord Cornelius gave a sudden snort and stirred, then settled back down in his chair.

  “Uncle Cornelius needs to go to bed,” Skye said softly.

  Skye was most tenderhearted of all the Wilde cousins, although more than capable of stirring up her own lively brand of mischief. She rose and crossed to the hearth, where she gently woke their slumbering relative.

  Cornelius sat up, blinking and fumbling for his spectacles. Now over sixty, with thinning hair that was turning silver, he had the tall, refined build and high-boned features of an aristocrat, but a vague, unfocused air that belied the fact that he was actually a brilliant scholar.

  Cornelius was the only one of the Wildes in his generation who had never known a passionate love, as his cousins and brothers and only sister—Jack’s mother, Lady Clara—had done. It was ironic that even though Cornelius had never married, he had wound up raising their five orphaned children.

  When he caught sight of Katharine, he offered sheepishly, “Forgive me for sleeping through your ball, my dear, but I know you and Ashton had it well in hand.”

  “You are forgiven, Uncle,” she said sweetly. “Especially since you were the inspiration behind my plan to find our perfect matches. I was just telling Ash about his legendary tale.”

  “Well … yes, very good …” Cornelius said awkwardly, looking around for the nearest door. He might have provided the literary framework for Kate’s plotting, but he clearly wanted no part of the execution.

  “Good night, my dears,” he mumbled, climbing to his feet and eagerly escorting Skye from the room.

  Ash realized he would not be so lucky as to escape, though. The entire time, Katharine had been studying him, and as soon as they were alone, she resumed her argument. “You have always told us that we should make our own destinies, Ash. Well, you need to go out and make yours. Maura Collyer could be your destiny, if only you will claim her.”

  Ash cut her off just as quickly. “I can’t imagine that she is willing to go along with your mad scheme,” he stated bluntly.

  Katharine paused. “Not quite yet. I suspect she will require some persuading. Maura isn’t interested in love or romance or balls or anything so mundane. She is still grieving her father’s loss, and now she is fighting to save her stallion.”

  “Which is a prime reason to forget all about your absurd plot.”

  To his surprise, Katharine threw up her hands and sank back in her chair with an aggrieved sigh. “Very well, forget all about my idea. But even if you won’t consider courting Maura, the very least you could do is use your power and influence to help her reclaim her rightful property from Viscount Deering. Her circumstances have become rather desperate.”

  With that exhortation, Ash felt on more solid ground. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help her. In fact, I already offered my assistance earlier this evening, and she refused.”

  “I told you she is proud,” Katharine replied, making a face. “She won’t like playing the role of damsel in distress. Maura is accustomed to being the rescuer, not the other way around. You should have seen her at school. She always stood up to the girls who tried to bully and torment the younger ones. But Lord Deering is too powerful for her. You simply have to make her accept our help, Ash.”

  At his silence, Katharine played her final trump card. “If you do this for me—if
you agree to help Maura—I promise I will do my utmost to find my own match next.”

  He eyed her skeptically.

  “I mean it,” Katharine insisted. “I want to prove to you all that my theory works.”

  “I intend to hold you to that promise, love. I am eager to get you off my hands.”

  She responded to his teasing declaration with a faint laugh. “So you will help Maura?” she asked more earnestly.

  “Yes, on one condition. That I never hear another word from you about Cinderella or princes or wicked stepmothers.”

  “You have a deal.” Her profound relief evident in her brilliant smile, Kate stood and threw her arms around his neck. “I knew I could count on you, dearest Ashton.”

  He suffered her embrace in ill-humored silence, but could tell that her quick mind was already racing ahead.

  “We have no time to waste, Ash. You must call on Maura first thing in the morning, before eight o’clock if you hope to catch her before she leaves the house. She rides early whenever she gets the chance—”

  “Why don’t you leave the tactics to me?” he warned.

  “As you wish. I am just thankful that you mean to help her. And who knows? You may find some merit in my theory after all. This could be the chance of a lifetime—”

  When he held up a hand to ward off any more arguments, Katharine grinned in understanding. “Very well, I won’t press. But I can hope, can’t I?”

  With that lighthearted shot, she exited the library, leaving Ash alone to contemplate what he had just agreed to.

  He had to give his sister credit. Her proposal that the Wilde cousins imitate classic lovers in literature was her most novel invention to date. One argument of Katharine’s, however, had decisively captured his attention: It is up to us to shape our own destinies.

  Admittedly, the power to shape his destiny held a strong appeal for Ash. After fate had dealt his family such a devastating blow, he’d felt driven to control his future and that of his clan.

  He would never forget the moment he learned the terrible news: Seeing Uncle Cornelius’s face drain of blood at the letter of notification … reading the letter for himself. The shock and anguish as comprehension sank in. The days and weeks afterward when he’d railed impotently at life’s cruelties.