Princess Charming

by Nicole Jordan

  First, however, she would have to face her stepmother, who would surely ring a peal over her head upon hearing the news of her public brawl.

  Not surprisingly, Priscilla was alone in her favorite parlor, an elegant room done in shades of rose and cream that complimented her ivory complexion, raven hair, and blue eyes. Pris looked up from her needlework when Maura entered, and as expected, her beautiful features tightened with disapproval, confirming that the ton’s network of gossips had already struck.

  “How could you, Maura?” she demanded at once. “I have had two reports from friends in the space of an hour. It is bad enough that your father left us mired in scandal. You have to go and make it even worse by humiliating a peer of the realm before all of London.”

  Maura pressed her lips together at the unfair charge against her father. It was a huge point of contention between them. She believed utterly in her father’s innocence, but her stepmother seemed to have doubts. Certainly she had never refuted Deering’s false accusations with any vehemence, as Maura had. It was almost as if she blamed Papa for leaving her to deal with the disgrace. And now, even worse, she was taking his accuser’s side.

  “Your outrageous behavior is shaming us all,” Pris continued scolding. “And honestly, can you not see that making an enemy of Lord Deering will only hurt your stepsisters? But I suppose you don’t care about Hannah and Lucy one whit.”

  “Of course I care about them,” Maura said stiffly.

  “Well, it will surely be your fault if they fail to make decent matches.”

  Maura bit her tongue to hold back her retort, not wanting to say something she would regret.

  Priscilla had no such qualms, however. “You are living under my roof. You at least owe me the courtesy of restraining your hellion ways while you are here.”

  “You are right, Priscilla,” Maura agreed with effort, refraining from pointing out that this house used to be her roof before Pris had worked her wiles on Noah Collyer. “But you needn’t fear that I will disgrace you again in the immediate future. I am returning home to Suffolk this very afternoon.”

  Her announcement clearly caught Pris by surprise.

  “You are leaving London?”

  “Yes, I would not want to inconvenience you any longer,” murmured Maura, unable to repress an edge of sarcasm in her voice. “I only came to London to try and retrieve my horse, and that has proved impossible.”

  Priscilla lowered her gaze, looking almost contrite. She understood perfectly well that she had wronged Maura by delivering Emperor to the viscount for so many pieces of gold. “I am sorry you lost your pet, my dear,” she said in a softer tone, “but I had no other choice if I hoped to provide Seasons for my daughters to improve their chances of marrying.”

  It was an apology of sorts, one that Priscilla had offered several times before, but Maura was unwilling to accept that excuse.

  “As I told you,” she rejoined, “if you had only waited three months, I could have sold the spring foals to raise the funds you needed.”

  “But I could not wait,” Priscilla argued. “Too much time has already been wasted waiting for our period of mourning to be over. It will be difficult enough to find husbands for Hannah and Lucy when they are still young, and the case will be hopeless once they reach spinsterhood as you have. And surely even you can see Lord Deering’s patronage is vital to their acceptance by the ton. Without his support, their matrimonial prospects are doomed.”

  “No, I do not see that at all.”

  Refusing to be drawn further into the familiar, futile dispute, Maura spun on her heel and left the parlor without another word. She went straight up to her bedchamber to pack, her emotions simmering.

  She was aware that losing her beloved horse had dredged up old childhood resentments against Priscilla for taking away her father and sending her away from home. But just then Maura couldn’t repress the painful reminders.

  A half hour later, however, when her stepsisters burst into her room, she had to clamp down on her memories while trying to console them, for they were visibly upset at hearing the news of her impending departure.

  “Mama says you are leaving, Maura. Please, won’t you stay?” Hannah begged. “How are we to manage without you?”

  “I wish I could remain for your sakes,” she answered honestly before shading the truth with her next comment. “Gandy needs me at home, with so many foals and yearlings to care for. And there is no point in my remaining in London any longer. Emperor is lost to me.”

  “It is so unfair that Mama sold Emperor,” Hannah said sadly.

  “Yes,” Lucy seconded her elder sister. “We wish we could help you get him back.”

  “You know we would do anything for you, Maura,” Hannah added. “You have always been so good to us.”

  Maura was touched by their offer of help. The girls had attended the same academy for young ladies that she had, although not until a year after she had left. But she’d visited them regularly and sent them frequent packages from home to make their lives more bearable. She had also encouraged them to make friends. She hadn’t wanted them to suffer the loneliness that she had known before she’d found Katharine and Skye to share her sorrows and hopes and dreams with.

  “But what about Lord Beaufort?” Lucy asked unexpectedly.

  Maura looked up from the valise she was packing. “What about him?”

  “He seems very interested in courting you.”

  She felt a blush stain her cheeks. “You are mistaken, Lucy. He only called this morning because Katharine thought he could advise me on how to deal with Viscount Deering. But I fear I sabotaged any hope when I lost my temper in the park this morning. Now, if you don’t mind, my dears, I need to pack my belongings and write several notes of farewell before I can leave.…”

  At her strong hint, Hannah and Lucy hugged her earnestly and then trailed out of her bedchamber wearing long faces.

  Maura resumed her packing in solitude, but found her thoughts dwelling much too intently on Lord Beaufort and her deplorable weakness for him. She was exceedingly glad to be leaving London just now. If she remained, she would very likely surrender to his wicked allure. She had never met a more irresistible man, Maura admitted. His sensual charm, the laughter in his eyes, his heart-stealing smile, his boldness, his wit, all worked to devastate her defenses.

  Which was the height of foolishness.

  She knew better than to let herself be dazed by someone’s charm and good looks. Her father had been seduced by a pretty face—Priscilla’s—so Maura was doubly determined she would never fall into that particular trap. The fact that Noah Collyer had seemed content in his second marriage did not excuse Priscilla’s actions either.

  Trying to dismiss both her stepmother and the marquis from her mind, Maura spent the rest of the morning carefully preparing, then went to the kitchens to gather supplies and fill a pair of saddlebags.

  Her last order of business was to compose a farewell note for Katharine. She wanted to express her thanks and also to return the exquisite ball gown she had borrowed. However, Maura decided, she would wait until the next morning to have both the note and gown delivered. She knew better than to face Katharine directly, for she would have to lie about her intentions, and her bosom friend always knew when she was prevaricating.

  This was a secret she couldn’t share with anyone, though. And she had to act entirely alone, for what she was planning could be a hanging offense.

  Maura was particularly glad that Gandy was safely in Suffolk, so he could deny all knowledge of her scheme. Gandy had helped her devise a contingency plan for rescuing Emperor and they had worked out every minute detail, but she didn’t want him implicated in any way.

  Finally, Maura dressed carefully in a dark traveling gown and warm woolen cloak. When one o’clock arrived, she descended the stairs with her valise and saddlebags.

  Hannah and Lucy were waiting for her at the front door with embraces and kisses, although, thankfully, there was no sign of th
eir mother. Maura promised faithfully that she would write to the girls, and then went outside.

  Her one-horse gig had been delivered by the livery stables as requested, and was harnessed to Fripon, a stocky, rather ugly chestnut gelding who happened to be Emperor’s favorite equine companion. Maura had driven Frip to London two weeks ago for this very purpose in the event her cause became desperate.

  She greeted the horse fondly, then put her valise and saddlebags on the gig’s floorboard rather than handing them over to John, since she didn’t want him opening the vehicle’s boot and finding all the odd items stored there.

  A leather trunk had also been strapped to the boot, Maura saw with satisfaction. She dismissed John and the livery groom and was just about to climb into the gig’s seat when she heard the sound of carriage wheels.

  To Maura’s dismay, Katharine drove up in her dashing phaeton and pair, her young tiger perched behind.

  Maura pasted a smile on her face, even though she was cursing at her ill luck. Two minutes more and she would have made her escape. Even though she had wanted witnesses to see her leave for home in Suffolk, she knew that Katharine would be much too hard to fool.

  With an inward sigh, Maura waited as her friend halted the phaeton expertly. Leaving the young lad in charge of her pair of grays, Katharine climbed down and made her way over to the gig.

  “I heard about what happened in the park, Maura,” she said in explanation, “and I was worried for you. You do mean to let my brother help you, do you not? You cannot handle the viscount all on your own.”

  “I know,” Maura replied evenly.

  “So what do you mean to do now?”

  “I will think of something. For now, however, I am going home.”

  Katharine’s raised eyebrows expressed astonishment and skepticism both. “Surely you cannot be serious. You cannot give in to that odious bully.”

  “I am not giving in. I am merely retreating to fight another day.”

  Kate’s green eyes narrowed. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Maura tried to keep her expression neutral, but evidently her pretense didn’t work.

  “Maura Collyer,” Katharine said in a warning tone. “You are plotting something, aren’t you?”

  “Whyever would you think that?”

  “Because I know you too well.” Just then Katharine’s penetrating gaze swept Maura’s traveling attire. “What is this? You were sneaking out of town without even saying good-bye?”

  “I said good-bye in a note to you—and I arranged to have your ball gown returned to you also.”

  “I don’t give a fig about the dratted gown! I care about what happens to you.” When Maura remained silent, Kate frowned. “I never thought you would keep secrets from me, of all people,” she added in an attempt to shame Maura into confessing. “I won’t tell anyone, not even Ash. You know I am utterly loyal to you.”

  “Of course you are.”

  Kate gave a huff of exasperation. “You could at least let me in on the excitement.”

  In spite of herself, Maura smiled. Leave it to Katharine to make an adventure out of a dire predicament.

  “I appreciate your concern,” she said firmly, “but you need to let me deal with this problem in my own way.”

  Oddly enough, Katharine didn’t press her further. “Oh very well. You handle Deering however you wish. But you cannot leave town just now. You will ruin all my plans.”

  It was Maura’s turn to look suspicious. “What plans?”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but you leave me no choice. Do you recall that my Uncle Cornelius is a scholar of classic literature? Well, I have developed a theory based on his expert knowledge.…”

  A confusing minute of explanation ensued regarding Lord Cornelius Wilde’s understanding of famous lovers in history. Impatient to get away, Maura heeded with only half an ear, not really caring how similar her family circumstances were to Charles Perrault’s French fairy tale of Cinderella written more than a century ago … at least not until Katharine concluded with, “So you see, Ashton could be your prince.”

  Maura blinked. “I beg your pardon? You know that I believe in solving my own problems. I don’t need to rely on a prince to save me.”

  “Of course you don’t. But that is not my point. What I meant was, Ash could be your legendary lover.”

  She stared in disbelief. “Have you gone completely daft?”

  Katharine smiled. “No, I am in full possession of all my faculties. You can scoff all you like, Maura, but there could be merit to my theory.”

  “I very much doubt that!” Grimacing, she shook her head. “And merit or not, it is mortifying that you are trying to push me on your brother. I want nothing to do with your matchmaking.”

  Turning away, she climbed into her gig and took up the reins.

  Naturally, however, Katharine would not countenance her refusal and so reached up to place a delaying hand on her arm. “You cannot pretend you are not attracted to Ash, Maura. You told me yourself that you enjoyed kissing him.”

  “That doesn’t mean I wish to marry him.” As a thought occurred to her, she gazed narrowly down at Kate. “Does your brother know about your demented theory?”

  “Yes, I told him last night.”

  “Was that why he called on me this morning?” And why he kissed me in the meadow? Maura added to herself. “Because he was interviewing me as his prospective bride?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Katharine admitted reluctantly. “Ash was just as dismissive of my theory as you are.”

  “I should think he would be,” Maura said with feeling. “What sort of man would marry only to fulfill a fictional legend? He would have to be an idiot, and whatever your brother may be, he is not lacking in wits. He would never consider me for his bride.”

  Katharine’s expression turned earnest. “But, Maura, what if Ash were truly serious about marriage? He has to wed sometime to carry on the title. Why shouldn’t it be you?”

  “Why should it be me?” she countered. “No, Kate, the notion of us being legendary lovers is simply ludicrous.”

  “Don’t you want to marry someday?”

  The question gave Maura pause. She did indeed want to marry. She had always wanted a family … husband, children, love. But given the dishonor staining the Collyer name, her chance for marriage had likely passed her by. No self-respecting gentleman would want a wife whose late father was thought to be a cheat. Even without the scandal, her own unconventional occupation would frighten off any normal suitor, not to mention her advanced age and her distaste for the confining rules of gentility. So despite her profound regrets, Maura had determinedly pushed her yearnings for a husband aside.

  “Perhaps I might like to marry someday,” she replied, “but if I ever did, it would only be for love. Your brother certainly would never fall in love with me.”

  “It isn’t inconceivable.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Maura was willing to concede that with his dazzling allure, the dashing Marquis of Beaufort could easily fit the fairy-tale role of Cinderella’s wealthy, handsome prince. But in her opinion, all the Wildes were pleasure-seekers—most especially rakehell Ashton—and completely unserious about love. She couldn’t imagine any circumstance where she would want him for her husband, despite the beguiling possibility of finding a legendary love.

  When she saw Maura wasn’t swayed, Katharine’s mouth curved downward into a pout. “After all we have meant to each other, my ungrateful friend, you could at least consider indulging me.”

  Maura raised her eyes to the gig’s roof, striving for forbearance. Katharine was not above using coercion to gain her way, but that couldn’t be allowed to matter just now. She had a much more dire problem to attend to at the moment.

  “Dearest Kate, pray forgive me, but I don’t have time to discuss my matrimonial aspirations with you just now. I need to be on my way if I am to make it home before midnight.”

  “Oh, very well, but I am gra
vely disappointed in you, Maura.”

  Katharine stepped back, clearing room for the gig to pass.

  Hastily, Maura clucked at Frip and snapped the reins at his rump, sending him forward into a brisk trot. She would not be made to feel guilty simply because Katharine had rocks in her head and was bent on testing her nonsensical romantic fantasies on her elder brother.

  Maura drove down the street, feeling her friend’s green gaze following her until she was out of sight. Relieved to be away, she shook her head once more in disbelief. Escaping Kate’s machinations was another excellent reason to leave London.

  But the chief reason had nothing to do with matchmaking and everything to do with rescuing Emperor. And just now, Maura reminded herself, she needed to focus her mind and give all her attention to that vital task.

  She had intended her contingency plan to be used only as a last resort, in the event she couldn’t convince the viscount to sell.

  But the odds had always been stacked against her success, and now she had utterly burned her bridges with him. And since Deering was a wealthy, powerful, conniving adversary, she was unlikely to win against him by challenging him overtly. Therefore, she had only one course left open to her.

  She would simply have to steal her stallion back.

  The waiting was the hardest part.

  Maura knew she couldn’t enact her plan to rescue Emperor from the viscount’s stables until the dead of the night, when his grooms and coachmen would be sleeping. Therefore, she drove to the public livery nearest to Deering’s grand Mayfair mansion, where she had already arranged stabling for Frip and storage for her gig.

  She had also paid handsomely for the use of a small room above the livery and so settled there for the interim. For the next thirteen hours, she alternately struggled with impatience and nerves.

  When darkness fell over London, Maura forced herself to snatch a few hours of sleep, knowing she had a long night ahead of her. She also made herself eat. Even though she had packed provisions enough for a journey of several days, she wanted to keep up her strength for what might be a grueling test of endurance.