“Because you think you deserve her, is that it?”
Beatrice saw a flash of panic cross Henry’s vivid blue eyes. He too must sense a trap. “No, ma’am. Because I believe I can be a good and proper husband to her. I don’t suppose I shall ever truly deserve such a wonderful woman.”
The queen observed him, her head tipped to one side, eyes narrowed as though to better peer into those cerulean mirrors of his soul. Then she turned to Beatrice. Without smiling.
Beatrice recognized the wily glimmer in her mother’s eyes. She knew that look only too well, having seen it from across a card table, time and again. It warned that the queen was about to play a game-winning card.
Beatrice swallowed over the jagged lump in her throat. “Mama, please, I beg you not to—”
“Hush, Beatrice. I shall have my say.” The queen turned back to Henry and settled her plump figure more firmly into the brocade cushions. “I have developed a fond and admiring opinion of you, young sir. I will allow my consent for you to marry my girl, but only on two conditions.”
Beatrice struggled to breathe. Ohmygod-ohmygod! Was her mother actually saying ‘yes’? But her next thought was—Conditions? What conditions? Perhaps Victoria was only toying with them, demanding impossible concessions from Henry. If he refused, all would be lost. If he accepted, he might resent his surrender and, for the rest of his life, blame Beatrice.
Beatrice was certain she would die right here and now in this room.
Henry retained his equanimity. “And they are, ma’am?”
“First, you must renounce your German citizenship. Secondly, if you become my son-in-law, you and my daughter will live wherever I live and travel with me whenever I travel, until I am no longer of this world.”
Too much, too much! a voice screamed in Beatrice’s head. How could her mother expect Henry to forfeit his country, his family and friends, his commission in the Prussian military, everything he held dear—for her?
“Agreed,” he said, standing to attention before the queen.
Beatrice stared up at him in shock, certain she hadn’t heard him right. Her imagination must have supplied that precious, hoped-for word.
But he turned to look steadily down at her, his eyes fixing on hers. “Agreed,” he repeated. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my Beatrice. Nothing.”
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She reached out for his hand, pulled herself to her feet then clutched his arm for support as she took two steps to stand beside him. She didn’t know what to say. Dared not open her mouth for fear she’d start crying. She was so very, very happy.
Victoria reached for her needlework. “Would you please send my ladies back to me? I’m sure the two of you have much to discuss, plans to make. You’ll let me know when you’ve carried out my requests, Henry?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Of course.” He bowed from the waist then, tucking a supportive arm around her waist, swept Beatrice along with him and out of the room.
Henry glanced at Beatrice as they walked, arm in arm, along hall leading away from the public rooms at Osborne. “That’s a most mysterious smile, my dear,” he said. “I hope it means you’re as happy as I am.”
“I am.” But she couldn’t help laughing. “Henry, do you not realize what has just happened?”
“We’ve been given the queen’s blessing.” He winced, as if he’d felt a sudden twinge of doubt. “Haven’t we?”
Through her joyful delirium, Beatrice had understood the deeper meaning behind her mother’s acceptance of their union.
She looked around, aware of servants and ladies of the Court moving past them. Here wasn’t the place to discuss anything that might fuel gossip. “Come, Henry. I’ll explain, in a more private place.”
She led him back through the high-ceilinged passageways, through corridors lined with portraits and landscapes by the masters, until he squeezed her hand and pulled her to a stop. “Dearest, do you think this is wise? This is the way to your room, is it not?”
“Yes,” she said.
“There must be other places of privacy to talk.”
“None that will do as well,” she said, feeling excited to be so close to him. She wanted to feel his arms around her, longed for his kisses, and for more. So much more.
“As you wish,” he said with an amused laugh.
Her maids must have heard her coming, for they had the door open by the time she and Henry reached it. She gave each of the girls a look then drew a line with her eyes toward the doorway. They ducked out immediately, closing the door after them. She thought she heard the titter of a laugh from the hallway.
Then all was silent. And she was alone with Henry Battenberg. Her prince. Her love.
He looked around the room, a bit uneasily she thought. “Well? What did I miss during that auspicious audience?”
Beatrice moved to stand in front of him, took his hand and guided his arm around her. She snuggled her head to his chest in utter contentment. “The queen, my mother, is a gifted negotiator.”
“Yes, I expect so.” But his tone remained puzzled.
“Having foreseen our determination to wed, she first tried sending you away. When that didn’t work, she waited us out. And when we still refused to be dissuaded, she cut herself the best possible deal.”
Henry leaned back and looked down at her. “The consummate politician?”
“Oh yes,” Beatrice assured him. “Now, not only has she succeeded in even more firmly tying her youngest daughter to her side, she has captured a new male for her family and Court. She fully expects you to provide her with companionship and security through her waning years.”
“Ah,” he said, light dawning in his beautiful eyes. He grinned. “So now I’m a prisoner as well?”
Beatrice took a deep breath. “Are you having second thoughts? Are you still willing to make the sacrifice? You won’t hold it against me, will you, Henry?”
He wrapped his long arms around her. “I’ll say it again, no sacrifice is too great if it means we will be together, my love.”
She couldn’t contain her smile, couldn’t hold all of the happiness in. It was spilling out of her, lighting the room, brightening her world. She moved even closer into his embrace and felt him react to their bodies’ closeness.
He moved back from her, taking her hands in his and kissing them, then setting her away by three paces. “I must go, before I…before we…” He was blushing, his eyes alive with passion.
“No,” she said.
“No?” He laughed. “Bea, if I stay alone with you in this room one minute longer, I’ll…well, not to be indelicate, but I’ll ruin a perfectly good pair of trousers in my excitement.”
She smiled at him, feeling just wicked enough to be pleased with herself. “So remove them,” she said.
“Take off my trousers?” He coughed, then choked. “You’re asking me to take them off, woman?”
“I am. And your jacket. And waistcoat. I’m not at all sure what else may be under there, but they’d best come off too. Don’t you think?”
He stared at her, blinked, shook his head, mussing his hair and making her want to comb her fingers through it. “If I strip off my clothes I absolutely won’t be able to contain my ardor for—”
“I know.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. I want you, Henry. I want you now.”
He still hesitated.
“Consider it a royal command.” She fought the smile that tugged at her lips, but failed to keep a straight face. She couldn’t resist the ecstasy she anticipated in his arms. In her bed. Shared with him. “Make love to me Henry. I’m twenty-seven years old, and I’ve waited long enough.”
He opened his arms to her. “My darling, it will be an honor.”
More from Mary Hart Perry
If you enjoyed this Victorian thriller by Mary Hart Perry, you may also like her other award-winning books, including: The Wild Princess: A Novel of Qu
een Victoria’s Defiant Daughter. Or journey back to Shakespearean times in The Gentleman Poet, written as Kathryn Johnson.
Mary Hart Perry (aka Kathryn Johnson) lives in the Washington, DC area with her husband and two cats. She would love to hear from you and welcomes your reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. You can visit her website, www.WriteByYou.com, for writer’s tips, book groups and historical information, or reach her in one of the following ways:
[email protected]
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@Mary_Hart_Perry or @KathrynKJohnson
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Seducing the Princess Page 32
