The Princess and the Pea

by Victoria Alexander

  Millicent shrugged. “It’s simply the way life has always been here. In America fortunes, especially these days, are more often the result of individual hard work as opposed to inheritance. You call them, I believe, self-made men. Why, your own father—” Millicent cast a questioning glance at Phoebe and received an encouraging nod in response—“built his substantial wealth himself. But here it’s not unusual for a family to look toward a suitable marriage to rebuild the family coffers.”

  Emily tossed her sister a smug look. “That’s what I said.”

  Millicent narrowed her eyes and pulled her brows together in a gesture of admonition. “I can see in your face, Cece, your opinion of such a match. But don’t judge Jared too harshly. He is no worse than most men in this country, perhaps in the world, and far better than a great many I could name.”

  She leaned forward and grasped Cece’s hand. “I suggest you give him a chance. You may find in spite of the fact that he needs your money, he has much to offer in return.” Millicent grinned abruptly. “I could not help but notice the definite sparks between the two of you last night.”

  “Cece!” Phoebe gasped with delight. “Is this true? Are you already taken with this young man?”

  Revealing heat rose in Cece’s face. She pulled her hand from Millicent’s grasp and sprang to her feet. “Of course not, Mother. How absurd. Why, we have only just met.”

  Emily grinned and Cece glared at her. She cast a quick glance at Lady Millicent, only to find her mother’s friend smiling with a knowing air that indicated that she had few doubts about the accuracy of her observations.

  A throat was cleared discreetly at the doorway.

  “Milady?” Lady Millicent’s butler strode to her side and offered her a small silver tray.

  Millicent picked up the card it bore, glanced at it briefly and nodded. “Show her in, Frederick.

  “How very interesting,” Millicent murmured and rose.

  “Millicent, how lovely to see you again.” A small, rounded woman swept into the room like a diminutive ship in full sail.

  “Olivia, I don’t believe you’ve met my guests,” Millicent said, inclining her head toward the girls and their mother.

  The newcomer pulled off her gloves. “Not formally; I did notice them last night, however.”

  “No doubt,” Millicent said under her breath. “May I present my dear friend Phoebe, Mrs. Henry White, and her daughters Miss Emily White and Miss Cecilia White.” A twinkle of amusement shone in her eye. “I should like to introduce you to Lady Olivia Grayson, the mother of the Earl of Graystone.”

  Cece and Emily traded swift glances. It was all Cece could do to keep her expression composed, her manner controlled. So this was the ferocious dragon that had so crushed Marybeth’s ambitions concerning Jared. She did not seem especially fierce. The woman was much shorter than Cece, full of figure but nowhere near plump, with a face the years had been especially kind to. Cece could well imagine a time when this woman was considered a great beauty.

  “Lady Grayson, what a lovely coincidence,” Phoebe said. “We were just—”

  “We were just discussing what a wonderful time we all had at last night’s ball,” Cece cut in quickly. Somehow it seemed wiser right now not to let Jared’s mother know he was responsible for turning the parlor into a greenhouse.

  “Really?” Lady Olivia turned her gaze on the girl, and Cece nearly jumped with recognition. The woman’s blue eyes were just a shade lighter, just a bit wider than her son’s, but otherwise there was no doubt as to the family resemblance. The older woman perused Cece with an assessing glance. “I should think it ended rather badly for you, my dear.”

  Cece struggled not to squirm under Lady Olivia’s studied inspection and forced a light tone to her voice. “Not at all. Accidents happen. One shouldn’t let a minor mishap color the entire evening.”

  Lady Olivia nodded approvingly. “Excellent. I too firmly believe in not allowing a single incident to cast a shadow over what was otherwise quite an instructive evening.”

  “An instructive evening?” Phoebe said quizzically.

  Lady Olivia’s gaze locked with Cece’s and she instinctively knew what her mother couldn’t possibly understand, what Lady Millicent might well suspect, what would make Emily laugh out loud: Lady Olivia was already sizing up Cece as a prospective wife for her son. The very same way she had examined and discarded Marybeth as a potential daughter-in-law.

  But Cece was not Marybeth. She, above most girls of her acquaintance, was well up to the challenge that might be issued by the protective mother of an English earl. After all, she had come to En gland in part to prove Americans were equal to, if not better than, the British. And the stakes of this enterprise were far higher than originally anticipated. Now she played for the man she loved. This was one contest she would not lose.

  Cece raised her brow the barest notch. The corners of Lady Olivia’s lips twitched, as if she suppressed a quick smile. Cece wondered if anyone else in the room noticed a gauntlet had been thrown down and accepted.

  “Now then,” Lady Olivia said briskly, turning toward Phoebe and Millicent. “I was going to send the invitation, but I thought it would be so much more pleasant to deliver it in person.”

  “Invitation?” Millicent said. “Don’t tell me you are finally entertaining again?”

  “It does seem like a long time, doesn’t it?” Lady Olivia sighed. “I simply lost all desire for hosting social events after Charles—” she glanced at Phoebe—“my husband, passed away. And then my son James died just a year ago and…well, I’m certain you understand.”

  Phoebe nodded sympathetically.

  “But now,” Lady Olivia continued, in a tone that indicated bravely carrying on, “there is Jared to consider. He is the Earl of Graystone, with all the responsibilities and duties the title bears. And I have been remiss in my obligations for far too long as well.

  “I have decided to have a small house party next weekend. Nothing elaborate, you understand. Something simple. Perhaps a dozen or so people.” She addressed Phoebe. “Will your social obligations permit a few days in the country?”

  Phoebe’s brows drew together in a considering frown. “I believe so. We are extremely busy with plans for Emily’s coming out, but I should think a few days away from London would be a welcome respite. The pace here can be so exhausting.”

  “Indeed.” Lady Olivia nodded her agreement. “I believe you will enjoy Graystone Castle. It has a fascinating history and has been the family seat of the Graysons for centuries.”

  “I have always heard that castles are cold and drafty,” Emily said innocently. Cece threw her a warning glare.

  Lady Olivia laughed. “Why, my dear child, that’s virtually the definition of a castle. Even so, they are far more comfortable today than hundreds of years ago. We do try to keep up with the times, particularly in our own homes. And what ever else it may be, Graystone Castle is home.” She leaned toward Emily in a confidential manner. “Although we have noticed the various ghosts inhabiting the place don’t seem at all happy about improvements that have been made through the years.”

  Obvious concern stamped Emily’s face, and even Cece was taken aback until she noted the teasing light in Lady Olivia’s eyes.

  Lady Olivia turned to Millicent. “Naturally you and Quentin are invited to stay at the castle as well.”

  Millicent shook her head. “Oh my, no. My estate is but a short ride from yours, so we shall stay there. I cannot abide the thought of trekking to the country to stay in someone else’s home when I can enjoy the comforts of my own with a minimal amount of difficulty. However, I assure you, we shall be present every day, for every entertainment.”

  “That will do, then.” Lady Olivia moved toward the door. “I have a great number of errands to accomplish today. I shall send a servant around with further details on precisely what is planned for the weekend and look forward to seeing you all then.” Her gaze swept the gathering, lingering a fraction of a secon
d longer on Cece than on the others.

  “Lovely flowers, my dear,” she said softly.

  “Allow me to accompany you to the door,” Millicent said, stepping to the other woman’s side. The two moved away and Cece barely heard Millicent’s faint words: “Olivia, what on earth are you up to?”

  Cece strained to catch more, but the voices trailed off. Still, she didn’t need to hear the answer to Lady Millicent’s inquiry. Cece was certain she already understood all too well exactly what Lady Olivia was up to.

  Lady Olivia was not the only one to drop in unexpectedly. Through much of the afternoon a steady flow of visitors arrived, discreetly curious about Lady Millicent’s American guests. Not a small number were young men eager to further their acquaintance with Cece and Emily, to the younger girl’s obvious satisfaction. With each new male caller the floral display in the room grew, until Cece wondered wryly if the scent of flowers alone was enough to cause true suffocation, or at least a permanent ache in the back of her head.

  The last admirer finally bid his farewell and Cece collapsed onto the settee with a weary sigh. She rubbed the throbbing point at the back of her neck and closed her eyes. “Goodness, Lady Millicent, do you face this constant stream of visitors every day?”

  “Dear me, no.” Millicent chuckled. “It seems you and your sister have made quite an impression.”

  Emily plopped onto the sofa beside her sister. Cece opened her eyes and slanted her a disgusted glance. Emily grinned in triumph. “We have, haven’t we? I find it all extremely exciting.”

  “I find it exhausting,” Cece muttered.

  A concerned frown furrowed Phoebe’s brow. “Are you quite all right, darling? It’s not at all like you to be so fatigued by a simple afternoon of calls.”

  “It’s not who came.” Emily smirked. “It’s who didn’t.”

  “I’m fine, Mother.” Cece glared at the younger girl, who knew her sister far too well for comfort. Most annoying of all was the simple fact that Emily was right.

  With each new arrival Cece had expected to hear Jared’s voice, see his tall, broad-shouldered figure, lose herself in the blue depths of his eyes. Disappointment stabbed her time and again through the interminably long day. It was all she could do to force herself to offer appropriately pleasant comments and idle chatter to young men whose names were forgotten a moment after their introduction.

  Frederick entered the room, stepped to Lady Millicent’s side and spoke softly into her ear. She glanced quickly at Cece and nodded to the butler. “It appears our list of guests is not yet complete.”

  “Lady Millicent.” Jared’s voice sounded from the doorway. Cece jerked upright on the sofa, weariness and aching head abruptly forgotten. She composed a pleasant smile on her face and folded her hands in her lap, hopefully presenting the perfect picture of serene disinterest. Only she could hear the thud of her heart in her chest at his approach.

  “I hope you don’t mind my unannounced visit.” Jared strode to Lady Millicent, lifted her hand and brushed his lips against the back. Millicent favored him with an amused smile. “I found I was nearby and couldn’t resist the impulse.”

  “My dear boy, you are welcome anytime.” Millicent nodded toward Phoebe. “I don’t believe you have met my friend and guest, Mrs. Henry White. Phoebe, this is Jared Grayson.” Millicent raised a brow at her friend. “The Earl of Graystone.”

  “I see,” Phoebe said thoughtfully and glanced at Cece. “I gather you are already acquainted with my daughter?”

  “Acquainted?” Emily said with a short laugh, shaking her head in exaggerated disbelief.

  Cece tossed her a quelling glance.

  “His…lordship and I have indeed met,” Cece said coolly. She had no intention of letting him see how his mere presence affected her. Rising to her feet, she offered her hand. “Lovely to see you again. And so soon.”

  Jared took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. His gaze never left hers. “Not soon enough.”

  She pulled her gaze, and her hand, from his. “Perhaps, too soon.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “Perhaps.” He turned to her mother. “Mrs. White, I wonder if I might have the plea sure of escorting your daughter on a ride through the park?”

  “Oh dear,” Phoebe said with an expression of mild dismay. “Would it be proper, Millicent?”

  “I think it would be acceptable.” Lady Millicent nodded. “It is well past five o’clock. The park will be full of people at this hour. It’s just the place to see and be seen.” She glanced pointedly at Jared. “Especially if one wants one’s intentions made clear.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “I do wish Henry was here.”

  “Where is Father?” Cece realized she hadn’t seen him since late morning.

  “I believe he had a letter of introduction to some club or other.” Phoebe frowned in annoyance. “However, the hour is growing late and I hope he returns shortly.”

  “London boasts some of the finest clubs for gentlemen in the world,” Jared said. “No doubt he’s simply enjoying himself and has lost track of time. Now then, Miss White,” his gaze pinned Cece’s, offering so much more than a mere carriage ride, “would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the park?”

  His tone was confident, his attitude assured, but there was the tiniest flicker of doubt in his dark eyes. Cece smiled sweetly. “In a carriage?”

  His brow rose slightly. “What else?”

  Hers quirked in an answering response. The man was as good at issuing challenges as his mother, although meeting Lady Olivia’s would, no doubt, be the more difficult. Cece could never expose Jared’s passion for invention to the world, although privately she thought his reluctance nonsensical. Still, it did no harm for him not to know that he already had won her firm loyalty.

  She shrugged with false innocence. “One always likes to be certain,” she said for his ears alone, then turned to Phoebe. “Mother?”

  “Do have a pleasant time, dear.” Phoebe smiled brightly.

  The amazingly efficient Frederick stood by the door bearing Cece’s hat and parasol. She accepted the ribbon and floral concoction and deftly secured it to her dark curls, ignoring Jared’s barely suppressed smile of amusement. She adored hats that were just a touch outrageous and he would simply have to learn to like them as well, or at least tolerate them. Frederick handed her the parasol and Jared offered his arm. With a genuine smile she received one, with a curt nod accepted the other, and she and Jared were on their way.

  A fashionable phaeton stood in the street, drawn by a perfectly matched pair of dappled grays.

  “Very nice,” she said, a note of appreciation in her voice. Lady Millicent was right: The British nobility definitely knew how to keep up appearances.

  Jared handed her into the carriage, seated himself by her side and took up the reins. She steeled herself to pay no attention to the beckoning heat of his body next to hers, to disregard his close proximity in the intimate seating of the rig.

  “What?” she chided. “No driver in full livery? I’m surprised, Jared. I should think you would think that such a gesture would surely impress an American like myself.”

  Jared shrugged nonchalantly. “I simply preferred not to have an eavesdropping servant along. I believe there are a few things you and I need to settle. Alone.

  “I hardly expected you to object, given our previous encounters.” He guided the horses into the flow of traffic. “Do you?”

  “Not at all,” she said lightly. “In fact, I quite appreciate the opportunity for a frank discussion.”

  “You do?” His eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion. “I must say I’m somewhat surprised by your attitude. I expected you to be—”

  “Annoyed? Upset? Livid?” she said pleasantly.

  “At the very least.” His tone was wry. “The way we parted last night, I assumed you would refuse to see me.”

  “Not at all.” They pulled into Hyde Park and she glanced around curiously at the crowded flow of carriages an
d riders on horse back promenading through the lane. “Is it always this busy here?”

  Jared expertly maneuvered the carriage into the slow-moving procession and nodded politely at a passerby. “Always at this hour. Hyde Park is the place to see and be seen.”

  “Oh?” Realization struck her abruptly. “That’s what Lady Millicent meant with her comment about making one’s intentions clear.”

  He slanted her a meaningful glance. “I don’t wish there to be any doubts as to my intentions.”

  She raised a brow. “And they are?”

  A startled expression crossed his face. “I thought I had made that perfectly clear. I want to marry you.”

  She adjusted her parasol and adopted a cool tone. “I don’t seem to recall you asking. Nor do I remember you speaking to my father about the matter.”

  “Nonetheless…” His brows drew together in a frown of confusion. “I love you. And you said you loved me.”

  “Love,” she said calmly, “has very little to do with it.”

  His eyes darkened. “Love has everything to do with it.”

  “No, Jared.” She directed him a steady gaze. “That may well have been true when you were…a penniless inventor.” She shrugged. “But now all has changed.”

  “Oh?” Skepticism colored his tone. He leaned closer and tipped her chin to face him, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. His voice was low and intense. “Precisely how has everything changed?”

  Cece widened her eyes and longing rushed through her. Still…she struggled to gather her wits about her. She was determined to carry this through with a cool, serene demeanor in spite of the way she quivered inside at his touch, the way his voice sapped the will from her resolve, the way his eyes plumbed hers with an untold intensity that melted something at her very core. She drew back from his skillful touch.

  “I am beginning to understand that life here is much different than at home. In En gland there is apparently nothing wrong with marrying for financial benefit. In fact, it seems to be encouraged.”