To Charm a Prince

by Grasso, Patricia;

  “Samantha Douglas is a lovely woman,” Prince Rudolf said, breaking the silence.

  “Yes, too bad about her limp,” Robert replied.

  “Limp?” the prince echoed, glancing sidelong at the other man. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Robert gave the prince an amused smile but made no reply. He walked away for a minute and returned to hand him a dram of whiskey.

  “I would prefer vodka if you have any,” Rudolf told him.

  “I’m sorry,” Robert said with a shrug.

  “I’ll send you a supply at first opportunity.” Prince Rudolf downed the whiskey in one gulp and added, “Vodka is a man’s drink. Save the whiskey for the ladies.” He returned his attention to the young woman sitting alone in the gazebo. She appeared as lonely as he felt.

  “Samantha will be announcing her engagement to Alexander Emerson tonight,” Robert told him.

  “Wasn’t there trouble between the Douglases and the Emersons?” Rudolf asked, his gaze on the woman in the gazebo.

  “Alexander is determined to make amends for his father’s misdeeds.”

  “Samantha deserves a husband who loves her,” Rudolf said.

  “I spoke those very words to my wife this morning,” Robert agreed. “However, unless that man makes an appearance within the next few hours, both Samantha and Alexander will be bound to spouses who don’t love them.”

  Rudolf turned to meet the marquess’ dark gaze. “Samantha does not love him?”

  “I think not.”

  Turning his back on the window, Rudolf scanned the duke’s study filled with mahogany furniture and bookcases built into the walls. Though his gaze was on the study, his thoughts were on the woman sitting in the gazebo. Samantha Douglas probably despised him for not calling upon her, but what could he do? Other, more important obligations had demanded his attention. Perhaps if circumstances had been different—

  The door swung open at that moment, and the Duke of Inverary walked into the room. Magnus Campbell was an older version of his son—tall and well-built, black eyes, black hair beginning to silver at the temples.

  “Shall we get down to business?” the duke said, gesturing toward his desk.

  Prince Rudolf inclined his head and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. The marquess sat in another chair while the duke took his place behind the desk.

  “We haven’t seen you about town for several months,” Duke Magnus remarked, a polite smile appearing on his face.

  “I’ve been rusticating on my new estate,” Rudolf told him.

  “Where is that?” the marquess asked.

  “Sark Island in the Channel,” Rudolf answered. “I settled my mother and daughter there and decided to stay for a prolonged visit.”

  “You have a daughter?”

  Rudolf heard the surprise in the other man’s voice and knew he was probably thinking about his young sister-in-law. “I lost my wife.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “Your English is perfect, no trace of an accent.”

  “My mother is English,” Rudolf told the older man, watching his expression. “Elizabeth Montague. Perhaps you remember her?”

  Rudolf noted the flicker of recognition in the duke’s dark eyes. Within an instant, the older man had shuttered his expression.

  “I never had the pleasure of making her acquaintance,” Duke Magnus said, shifting his gaze away from him.

  The duke was lying. That much was obvious to Rudolf. Had his mother spoken truthfully about the Duke of Inverary? She did have many lucid moments.

  “What can we do for you, Your Highness?” Duke Magnus asked.

  “I have come to do for you.” Rudolf looked from the duke to the marquess. “I am not in accord with my brother. Last summer, my agents pirated a ship they thought belonged to Vladimir. Unfortunately, The Tempest belongs to you.”

  Rudolf reached into his jacket pocket, produced an envelope, and placed it on the desk. “I am an honorable man with more money than I could hope to spend. Here is a banknote for the money my agents stole. With interest, of course. I hope you won’t press charges.”

  Both the duke and the marquess sat in stunned silence for a long moment. Finally, Duke Magnus said, “We’ll call it a misunderstanding.”

  “I appreciate your generous spirit,” Rudolf said.

  Your brother and you play roughly with each other,” the marquess remarked.

  Rudolf rose from his chair and looked out the window again at the woman sitting in the gazebo. Without thinking, he told them, “Vladimir wants me dead.”

  Silence greeted his revelation. Apparently, he’d shocked the Campbells again. These descendants of Highlanders thought they were strong, stalwart men but could learn real brutality from his own countrymen.

  Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “You’ll stay for tonight’s celebration, of course.”

  The last thing Rudolf wanted to witness was Samantha Douglas becoming engaged to Alexander Emerson. “I haven’t brought evening attire with me,” he said in refusal. “As a matter of fact, I rode alone from London, so I could complete the round trip in one day.”

  “Your horse needs to rest,” Robert said, rising from his chair. “We’re about the same size. You’ll borrow my clothes.”

  Rudolf flicked a glance out the window again. Like a siren’s song, the sweetness of the woman playing the violin called to him. “I accept your invitation,” he said. “Would you mind if I walked outside to offer Samantha my best wishes?”

  “I’m certain she’ll appreciate that,” the marquess replied, but his concerned expression said something else.

  Rudolf inclined his head and started to leave. The duke’s voice stopped him at the door.

  “Your Highness, may I ask how old you are?” Duke Magnus asked.

  Rudolf glanced at the marquess, who looked as surprised at the question as he felt. “I will be twenty-eight on the fifteenth day of May.”

  * * *

  Trying to clear disturbing thoughts from her mind, Samantha had stopped thinking about Alexander and had let her violin take her wherever it would. Caught up in her music, she closed her eyes and poured all of her heartache and longing into her song.

  “My Bulgarian rose.”

  Samantha opened her eyes and stared at the prince.

  Her heart lurched at the sight of his handsome face, and she couldn’t seem to find her voice.

  Was he real, or was she imagining him? Why had he come here today when she was about to announce her betrothal? Was this his idea of a joke?

  “I promised to call upon you,” Rudolf said, his voice intimately husky, “but you do not seem pleased.”

  “You are slightly tardy, Your Highness.” Samantha steeled herself against him.

  “Rudolf,” he corrected her.

  Samantha placed her violin and bow into their case. Then she slung the leather strap over her shoulder and stood, saying, “If you will excuse me, Your Highness.”

  “Sit down,” Rudolf ordered.

  “I am not one of your—”

  “Sit down, I said.”

  Samantha sat down, her cloak opening with the movement. She never felt the cold though. Her blue gaze on him glinted with anger.

  “I wish to explain why I never called upon you,” Rudolf told her.

  “An explanation is unnecessary.” Samantha forced an insincere smile onto her face.

  “Yes, I know,” Rudolf agreed. “I had an emergency.”

  “A six-month emergency?”

  “I needed to settle my mother and my daughter—”

  “You have a daughter?” Samantha interrupted, surprised by his words.

  “Interrupting is impolite,” Rudolf said.

  Samantha dropped her gaze to the gazebo’s floor and noticed the star ruby had deepened into the color of blood. Was she in danger from the prince? She couldn’t credit that. Perhaps her heart—

  “As I was saying,” Rudolf continued, running a hand through his black ha
ir in apparent frustration, “I needed to settle my mother and daughter on the estate I purchased. Several other problems surfaced then.”

  “I understand.” Samantha started to rise.

  “I have not dismissed you,” Rudolf said, his voice stern with authority.

  Samantha stared in surprise at him. Who did he think he was? The bloody King of England? And then she realized that, as a royal, no one had ever refused him anything. Apparently, the prince had led a parochial life. She would love to teach him a lesson, but she was getting engaged and had no time for games.

  “You will postpone announcing your betrothal,” the prince told her.

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “You do not love this Alexander Emerson,” Rudolf said.

  “You know nothing about me,” Samantha shot back.

  “I know you are as delicate as a Bulgarian rose and as mysterious as Asian jasmine,” Rudolf said, the hint of a smile touching his lips.

  “Are you proposing marriage?” she challenged him.

  “I cannot offer marriage at this time,” he said. “I want to become better acquainted with you, which I cannot do if you are betrothed to another man.”

  “You want me to cancel my betrothal so that you can become better acquainted with me?” Samantha echoed, arching an ebony brow at him.

  Rudolf nodded. “That is correct.”

  “Your Highness, have you been indulging in spirits?”

  “Help. . .”

  Samantha whirled around and stared at the woodland behind the gazebo. She glanced at the prince, who was also staring at the woodland.

  “Help. . .”

  Samantha brushed past the prince and hurried as fast as her limp would allow toward the woodland path. Prince Rudolf was two steps behind her.

  “You will wait here,” he ordered, grasping her upper arm.

  Samantha shrugged his hand off and kept going. Twilight had already descended inside the dense woodland, and she could barely see where she was going.

  “Help. . .” The cry seemed to be coming from behind them now.

  Samantha whirled around in time to see an enormous man cock a pistol at Prince Rudolf. “No,” she cried, starting toward them. Someone grabbed her from behind, but she stomped her assailant’s foot with the heel of her boot.

  “Oww, she broke my toes,” a man cried.

  “For Gawd’s sake, she don’t weigh more than a few ounces,” a second man said.

  “She weighs enough to make me a Hopping Giles,” the first man replied.

  “Igor.” Samantha fixed her gaze on the giant with the pistol.

  The giant flicked a glance at her and said to the prince, “Your ladybird remembers me.”

  “You are not easily forgotten,” Prince Rudolf said. “Release the woman before you shoot me. She has no part in my disagreement with Vladimir.”

  Igor remained silent for a moment. “I cannot release her now that she has recognized me, but I will not murder a prince, either. If Vladimir wants you dead, he will need to do it himself.” He gestured to the path, ordering, “Turn around and start walking.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Samantha cried, her panic rising. “I’m announcing my betrothal tonight.”

  “I’m sorry,” Prince Rudolf said, “but you are not a princess. Igor would suffer no qualms about shooting you.”

  Igor pointed the pistol at her as if to emphasize the prince’s words. Samantha curled her lips at him but fell into step beside the prince.

  With the two men in the lead and Igor pointing the pistol on their backs, Samantha and Rudolf walked through the woodland. Her limp slowed them down, but fifteen minutes later they emerged from the woods and saw a coach waiting on the road. The sun had set outside the woodland, and dusk was rapidly darkening into night.

  One of the men opened the coach door and gestured them inside. Samantha hesitated, saying, “I really must protest—”

  Igor leveled the pistol at her, and Samantha climbed into the coach. The prince climbed in and sat beside her.

  Igor slammed the door. A moment later, the coach started up.

  “I’m sorry for involving you in this,” Rudolf said, putting a comforting arm around her. “I promise to rescue you from death.”

  Samantha looked at him. His handsome face was barely visible within the darkness of the coach. “I’m getting engaged.”

  “Not tonight.” Prince Rudolf gave her a satisfied smile.

  Samantha leveled a disgruntled look on him and, whirling away, fell back against him.

  She felt the prince’s arms going around her and jerked herself into an upright position. After giving him a warning look, she turned away. This time she held on to the edge of the seat lest she fall on the floor or the prince’s lap.

  Samantha pulled her fur-lined cloak tightly around herself. How had she managed to get herself involved in this untenable situation? More important, how would she extricate herself?

  She had passed her entire eighteen years living in the shadows cast by her talented older sister, who wanted revenge, and her vibrant younger sister, who wanted fun.

  Nobody ever noticed her, and she had never thought she would be fortunate enough to marry and have her own family.

  Along had come Alexander Emerson, who wanted to make amends for his father’s crimes against her family. Alexander didn’t love her, but he would have made a good husband.

  And now? Even if she survived this, her reputation would be ruined. No man would marry her after she had disappeared with a Russian prince, not even Alexander Emerson. To think her dream had been within her grasp, and now it was slipping through her fingers . . .

  Samantha lost control of her emotions. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and then a sob escaped her throat.

  “I am sorry,” Prince Rudolf whispered against her ear.

  Samantha felt his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. His breath was warm on the side of her cheek, and his sandalwood scent teased her senses. She turned toward him and saw the handkerchief he was holding out to her.

  Regaining control of herself, Samantha lifted the handkerchief out of his hand. “I apologize for crying. Weeping never solved a problem.”

  “Tears purge the soul of negative humors,” the prince said. “I know you are frightened, but we will have an opportunity to escape.”

  “I fear nothing, Your Highness, not even Igor,” Samantha told him, feigning courage. “I have no intention of waiting for an opportunity to escape. Douglases make their own luck.” Even in the darkness, she saw the white of his teeth when he smiled at her bravado.

  “What shall we do?” the prince asked. “Leap out of a moving coach? We would only kill ourselves.”

  “We’re going to die anyway,” she reminded him.

  “I think not.”

  “If I wasn’t with you,” Samantha asked, “what would you do?”

  Rudolf smiled at her. “I would leap out the door.”

  “Let’s do it, then.”

  “The violin will injure you in the leap,” Rudolf told her. “You will need to leave it behind.”

  Accustomed to the darkness now, Samantha looked him straight in the eye. “Your Highness, I and my violin are going out that door. With any luck, I can make it back to the duke’s residence in time to save my reputation and my betrothal.”

  “Very well, but I will carry the violin,” Rudolf acquiesced. “Listen carefully to my directions. When I open the door, you must jump at an angle away from the direction the coach is traveling. Tuck in your head, arms, and legs so you will not be run over. Roll away from the road when you hit the ground. Do you understand?”

  Samantha made no reply. His words “so you will not be run over” echoed within her mind. The memory of excruciating pain flittered through her mind. Panic and dread paralyzed her resolve to escape the coach.

  “Do you understand?” the prince asked again, yanking her free of her memory.

  Samantha nodded and repeated his directions. “Ju
mp away from the coach, tucking my extremities, and roll when I hit the ground.”

  “I will jump immediately after you.” Rudolf reached for the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. He looked at her and shrugged. “Igor locked it.”

  “Let me try,” Samantha said, reaching across his body.

  “Do you think you have more strength than I?” the prince asked.

  Samantha dropped her hand to her lap and sat back against the seat. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “None at the moment.” Prince Rudolf gave her a devastating smile.

  “How can you be so cheerful in the face of death?” His smile irritated her.

  “I am actually relieved,” the prince admitted. “The locked door precludes injury.”

  “I am not as delicate as you think,” she said.

  “I was considering the chance of injury to myself,” he told her.

  Samantha felt the heated blush rising on her cheeks and was thankful for the darkness inside the coach. Dropping her gaze to his mouth, she recalled how his lips felt covering hers. What a fool she’d been to believe that a prince would call upon her. She would never give her imagination free rein again. However handsome the prince was, he was not the man for her.

  “Our continued good health does not concern me,” Rudolf told her. “The star inside your ruby is formed by three benign spirits—faith, hope, and destiny.”

  “Destiny’s spirit doesn’t seem benign to me tonight,” Samantha said, a rueful tone in her voice.

  “Your destiny lies not with Alexander Emerson,” the prince said.

  “Apparently, my destiny is to die with you,” Samantha said. “By the way, why does this Vladimir want you dead?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  Samantha couldn’t believe she was going to her grave without knowing the reason. She had the right to know her murderer’s motive.

  “Did Alexander—” The prince hesitated for a moment. “Did Alexander give you the ruby?”

  “That is none of your business,” Samantha said, tossing his words back at him.

  “Refrain from disrespect, young lady.”

  Lifting her nose into the air, Samantha moved to sit on the seat opposite him. The prince moved when she did, joining her there. When she started to switch to her original seat, Rudolf put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her back against his body.