Both boys shook their heads and kept eating as if they hadn’t had a meal in days.
“I know the alphabet,” Grant said, scooping another spoonful of hash.
“Me, too,” Drake said.
“Do you know how to cipher numbers?” Samantha asked.
Again, the boys shook their heads and shoveled food into their mouths.
“We know about money,” Grant said, his voice muffled with the amount of food inside his mouth.
“We like money,” Drake agreed, his own mouth full.
“You don’t need to put all the food into your mouth at one time.” Samantha glanced at the prince, saying, “We had better add table manners to our list of what they need to learn.”
“What’s that?” Drake asked.
Samantha placed a second helping on a plate for the dog and set it on the floor. “Table manners means how to eat properly—”
“We know how to eat,” Grant told her. “Put food into your mouth, chew it, and swallow.”
Rudolf laughed. “At the moment, you are deleting the chewing.”
“As I was explaining, you need to eat without making everyone nauseous,” Samantha told them.
“What’s nauseous?” Drake asked.
“Nauseous means sick to your stomach.”
“Oh. Like puking?”
“Yes.”
“What should we call you?” Grant asked her.
Mother, she thought, but said, “You may call me Lady Samantha. The prince is Your Highness.”
“In private, you may call me sir,” Rudolf told them.
“Lady Samantha?”
She looked down at Drake. His enormous dark eyes were deep, fathomless pools. “Yes, dear?”
“Does your leg hurt?”
“Are you referring to my limp?”
Drake nodded.
“When I was a little girl, a coach ran me over,” she told him. “One leg grew slightly shorter than the other, which makes me limp.”
“I bet that hurt,” Grant said.
“Yes, but that was a long time ago,” Samantha said. “I am fine now.”
Drake stopped eating and slipped his hand into hers. “Your leg must hurt sometimes.”
Samantha gave his hand a little squeeze. “When I tire from standing unbalanced for a long time, then my hip aches.”
“You never told me that,” Rudolf said.
“You never asked.” Samantha did not like the pity crouched in the prince’s gaze. “Besides, it really is of no significance.”
Samantha cut two pieces of gingerbread onto plates and then dropped a dollop of clotted cream on each. She passed one to Grant and placed the other in front of Drake.
“What are you doing?” she asked when the eight-year-old lifted the whole piece of gingerbread into his hand.
“I’m putting the gingerbread in my pocket to eat later,” Drake answered.
“That’s a good idea, brother,” Grant said.
Rudolf laughed and caught the boy’s wrist before he lifted the gingerbread off the plate. “If you are too full to eat it now, leave it on your plate.”
“But we’ll lose it,” Grant whined.
“If you want the gingerbread later,” Samantha told him, “you may ask for it.”
“What if that angry man won’t give it back?” Drake asked in a loud whisper.
Samantha burst out laughing and glanced at the majordomo. “You mean Durwin?”
“Shhh.” Grant put a finger across his lips and then whispered, “If he hears us talking about him, he’ll throw us out of the palace.”
“Durwin takes orders from me,” Rudolf told them.
“He does?” the boys exclaimed simultaneously.
Rudolf inclined his head.
“Tell him to stop looking at me,” Grant whined again.
“He gives me the creeps,” Drake said.
Samantha covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud and looked at the prince. He seemed to be struggling against laughter, too.
Drake looked from one to the other and then scolded, “Catching the creeps is no laughing matter.”
At that, Samantha did burst into laughter as did the prince. After the past seven months in society, the boys’ innocence was refreshing, and their banter reminded her of growing up with her sisters.
Samantha flicked a glance at the prince and wondered if he had any pleasant memories from childhood. His father’s and brother’s hatred made that unlikely.
* * *
Three tubs filled with steaming water stood in front of the hearth in the Tudor great hall. Several torches on the walls had been lit to chase away the late afternoon’s dimness, the sun having already sunk below the horizon in the west.
“Take off your clothes and climb into those tubs,” Samantha ordered, sounding like a general before her troops. “There are soap and a washing cloth in each tub. Do not forget to clean behind your ears.”
The boys stripped down to nothing and climbed into the tubs. Rudolf lifted their soiled garments off the floor and passed them to the majordomo. “Tell a footman to burn these.”
With a wholly disgusted look on his face, Durwin lifted the garments out of the prince’s hand. He hurried to the hall’s entrance where he passed them off to a footman.
“Giles, get into that tub,” Rudolf ordered, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.
The dog sat at attention and wagged its tail.
“Giles doesn’t understand,” Samantha said.
“Princess, he understands.” Rudolf looked at the dog again, ordering, “Get into the tub.”
Giles lay down on the floor, rested his head on his forelegs, and whined. Samantha and the boys giggled, and the deerhound wagged its tail as if he enjoyed being their entertainment.
Rudolf pointed at the tub. “Giles, get into that tub,”
He ordered in a stern voice. “Now.”
Giles stood and leaped into the tub. Then he plopped down, splashing the prince in the movement.
“Good boy,” Rudolf praised the dog. He called over his shoulder, “Durwin, do you want to wash the dog?”
The majordomo shook his head vigorously. Behind him, the footmen smiled at their superior’s back.
Rudolf picked up the soap and started lathering the dog. Samantha giggled at the sight of a prince washing a dog.
“Do you find this amusing?” Rudolf asked.
“I never would have thought a royal would stoop to a menial task.”
“I am also a man.” With a smile playing on his lips, Rudolf dropped his gaze to her body.
Samantha blushed. If his words and his gaze on her could make her blush so easily, how would she survive sharing a chamber with him?
“Princess, hand me that bucket,” Rudolf said. “I want to rinse him.”
The prince dumped the water over the dog’s head. Giles lifted his head and howled his displeasure.
“Out,” Rudolf ordered.
Giles needed no second invitation. He leaped out of the tub and shook the excess water off, spraying Samantha.
“I’m wrinkling,” Drake called.
Samantha passed the prince a towel and then walked toward the boys, who still sat in their tubs. After checking behind their ears, she handed Grant a towel, saying, “Dry yourself.” Then she gave her attention to the eight-year-old, ordering, “Stand up, Drake.” When he did, she began to dry him.
“Shall I help the other boy?” Durwin asked, standing beside her.
Samantha glanced at the ten-year-old and noted his grimace. “Fetch those clean clothes.”
Finished with the dog, Rudolf took the towel from Grant and helped him. Then he wrapped the towel around the boy until Durwin handed him the clean clothing.
With her hands on her hips, Samantha walked around the two boys and the dog and inspected them. “Now I can see your handsome faces,” she said, making them smile. “Giles, I never would have believed you had white markings on your gray coat.”
“Come with us,” Rudolf s
aid.
Grant took hold of the prince’s hand, and Drake clutched Samantha’s. Leaving the Tudor great hall, they returned to the main house and walked up the stairs to the second floor.
“Holy water!”
“Holy hell!”
Drake and Grant stood in the middle of the enormous bedchamber and turned in a circle. They stared with open mouths at the chamber’s opulence: red walls, canopied bed, upholstered settee near the hearth.
“Kneel beside the bed,” Samantha said.
“Why?” Grant gave her a suspicious look.
“You need to thank God each night for a blessing He’s given you that day.”
“That’s easy,” Drake said, casting her a flirtatious smile, which elicited a chuckle from the prince. The eight-year-old knelt beside the bed and folded his hands in front of him, saying, “Thank You for sending us a fairy godmother.”
Samantha felt tears welling up in her eyes. The boys were the only people she’d ever met who’d been grateful for her presence. Yes, her sisters loved her, but being family required them to love her.
“Thank You for sending us the prince,” Grant added, kneeling beside his brother.
“Climb into the bed,” Samantha said. When they did, she told them, “I will be in the next chamber if you need me.”
“Lady Samantha?”
“Yes, Drake.”
“Do fairy godmothers kiss little boys good night?”
Samantha kissed each boy’s forehead, thinking that this was how family life should be. Perhaps she wasn’t destined to enjoy life as she’d wished, but sometimes a person needed to make do.
Turning away from the bed, Samantha walked toward the connecting door where the prince waited. She paused when Drake called out to her.
“Lady Samantha?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you weeping?”
“My tears are happy, not sad,” she told him, heading for the connecting door.
“I told you girls were stupid,” Grant whispered to his brother.
“She’s a lady, not a girl,” Drake whispered back.
“Ladies are big girls,” Grant told him, “and being stupid has no cure.”
Rudolf turned to Samantha as soon as the door closed behind them. “You probably want to rest.” He gestured to the enormous bed, saying, “Make yourself comfortable. I will awaken you to dress for dinner.”
Samantha removed her riding habit and hanged it neatly in the dressing room. With a soft smile on her lips, she stared at the prince’s clothing hanging beside hers. There were few things more intimate than sharing a closet, and a tidal wave of love surged through her.
If only he wasn’t a prince . . . if only Aunt Roxie was here to guide her, she would know how to win the prince’s love . . . if only the impossible was possible.
Though she knew God would disapprove, Samantha decided to grab a few weeks of happiness for herself. She would pretend the prince was her husband.
Samantha knelt beside the bed. Though it wasn’t bedtime, sometimes thank-you couldn’t wait.
Covering her face with her hands, Samantha whispered a prayer to the empty room, “Thank You, Lord, for sending Grant and Drake to me. I promise I will love and care for them to the best of my ability. Giles was an unexpected but nice touch, too.”
While Samantha knelt beside the bed in prayer, Rudolf sat alone in the library and sipped brandy. He tried to concentrate on how to get Vladimir out of his life without having to kill his own brother, but the image of Samantha lying in his bed kept intruding on his thoughts.
Thirty minutes is time enough to take care of her private needs. Rudolf rose from the chair but then sat down again. Now that he had her where he wanted, Rudolf was reluctant to take her.
Samantha Douglas was everything he wanted in a woman—loyal, sensitive, nurturing. Though blessed with an inner strength, she had an aura of vulnerability that made him want to protect her. She was everything he had foolishly believed Olga was. Loving her had brought him only pain.
And Zara, he corrected himself. His daughter was worth all the pain he had suffered.
Rudolf sipped his brandy and stretched his long legs out. Though he had offered to marry Samantha to save her reputation, he’d been relieved when she refused him. He couldn’t chance making another mistake. He wanted never to marry again, especially to a woman he loved.
He loved her.
Rudolf bolted up in his chair. Yes, he loved her but intended to keep his own counsel. Love led to misery and pain. Always.
Again, the image of Samantha lying in his bed paraded across his mind’s eye, beckoning him to return upstairs. He set the snifter of brandy down on the table and rose from the chair.
Who knew what misfortune tomorrow could bring? He would grab a few weeks of happiness and pretend she was his wife.
With his mind made up, Rudolf left the library in a hurry. He took the stairs two at a time, pausing to calm himself when he stood before his bedchamber door.
Rudolf hesitated. What if she rejected his advances? She had offered to share his bed because she wanted the boys to sleep in her chamber.
Stepping inside the bedchamber, Rudolf looked toward the bed. Wearing only a silk and lace chemise, she had fallen asleep on top of the coverlet.
Rudolf sat on the settee in front of the hearth and removed his boots. Next came his shirt. Then he unfastened his breeches, letting them drop to the floor.
After donning his red silk bedrobe, Rudolf advanced on the bed. He stood there for a long moment and perused her from the ebony mane of hair to alluring curves and delicately boned feet.
Rudolf knelt beside the bed and covered his face with his hands. She must be a good influence, he thought. Because of her, he’d begun speaking to God again.
“Are you asking or thanking?”
He dropped his hands. She was smiling at him.
Rudolf returned her smile. “I was thanking Him for sending you back to my bed. I was wishing . . .”
And then Samantha did the unexpected. She opened her arms in invitation, welcoming him into the bed.
With a groan of mingling relief and desire, Rudolf climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. One hand cupped the back of her head to hold her steady; the other imprisoned her against the hard, muscular planes of his body. His lips captured hers in a slow, smoldering, soul-stealing kiss . . . a kiss filled with the budding love he refused to express in words. She returned his kiss in kind, pouring all of her love and need into it, pressing the softness of her body against him, instinctively trying to become one with him.
“Let me love you,” Rudolf whispered.
“Yes,” Samantha breathed against his lips, swept away on the waves of his passion.
Rudolf rolled her onto her back and leaned over her. Dipping his head, he captured her mouth again and flicked his tongue across the crease in her lips, seeking and gaining entrance to the sweetness beyond, possessing her mouth even as his body would soon fill hers, feeling her tremble with desire.
Without relinquishing her lips, Rudolf caressed her soft cheek, her slender throat, her delicate shoulders. Breaking their kiss, he gazed into her incredibly blue eyes. “So soft, so sweet.”
Rudolf felt her arms slide up his chest and hook around his neck. She pulled his face closer until his mouth covered hers again. When she flicked her tongue across the crease of his lips, Rudolf groaned and gave her entrance to his mouth, reveling in the sensation of her wanting to explore him.
Hearing her sigh of satisfaction, Rudolf took control again. His mouth left hers; he sprinkled dozens of feathery light kisses on her eyelids, temples, throat.
Rudolf rose from the bed, smiling when she moaned in protest, and ordered, “Open your eyes.”
When Samantha obeyed, Rudolf shrugged out of his bedrobe. He recognized the gleam of desire in her eyes as she slid her gaze down the length of his body. Then he leaned close and drew her chemise down her body and tossed it aside, exposing her naked beauty. He worsh
ipped her with his eyes before reaching with one hand to caress her from throat to feet.
Samantha held out her arms again in invitation. Rudolf knelt on the foot of the bed. Lifting her legs, he kissed the bottoms of her feet and flicked his tongue teasingly across her insteps.
Keeping her gaze captive, Rudolf kissed each of her toes. From there, his lips slid to her ankles, her legs, her thighs, her belly, her throat, and her lips. He turned her over and kissed her from the nape of her neck to her ankles.
“Roll over.”
When she did, Rudolf lay on top of her, his muscular hardness covering her softness completely. His kiss was demanding, his hands reaching down to capture her wrists and drawing her arms over her head.
Holding her immobile with one hand, Rudolf slipped his free hand to her breasts and caressed each in turn, flicking a finger across her passion-darkened nipples, already hardened with her arousal.
“Let me touch you,” Samantha whispered.
Rudolf wasn’t ready to relinquish control yet. “And you will touch me,” he said, staring down at her. “You will touch me when I allow it.” He lowered his head to her breasts and tormented her nipples with his tongue.
When she moaned and squirmed, Rudolf captured a nipple with his mouth and suckled leisurely upon it. Then he lavished the same attention on her other breast driving her wild with need.
Rudolf slipped a hand to the crevice between her legs to caress her there. “You are wet for me.” He knelt, one leg on each side of her body, and gazed down at her, saying, “Look at me.”
When Samantha opened her eyes, he told her, ‘“Touch me now.”
Samantha reached out to caress his chest. He closed his eyes and let her hands wander wherever they would. Rudolf groaned when she slid her fingers, like threads of silk, across his nipples as he’d done to her.
Feeling himself losing control, Rudolf grabbed her hands and spread her legs. He caressed her with the tip of his manhood and then thrust forward inside her. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and met each of his thrusts with her own.
Samantha gasped and melted against him, flooding him with her juices. Rudolf lost control, plunging deep inside her. He groaned and shuddered and spilled his seed.
To Charm a Prince Page 13
