Samantha prayed for the correct words. If he thought she pitied him, their marriage would be over before it began.
“Well, Samantha? Has my bastardy shocked you into silence?”
“No, Your Highness,” Samantha said, standing directly behind him. “What has shocked me is your stupidity.”
Rudolf whirled around. They stood mere inches apart, and she could see how tense he was. “I beg your pardon?”
With her open hand, Samantha slapped him hard. “I hope that knocks some sense into you.”
“I understand your anger,” Rudolf said, narrowing his gaze on her. “You have not answered my question.”
“You understand nothing.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Neither of your choices appeals to me,” Samantha said. “Is there a third?”
She saw his jaw and facial muscles relax. When he spoke, his voice sounded less strained. “The third choice is to marry until death us do part.”
“That’s the one I want,” she told him.
He wasn’t ready to believe her. She saw that right away.
Rudolf searched her eyes for the truth. “Are you being kind to me?”
“Why should I be kind to a man who hasn’t been kind to me?” Samantha countered.
“Do you feel sorry for me?”
“Why should I feel sorry for you?” she asked, sounding annoyed. “I’m the cripple who was forced to pick pockets in order to eat. I’d trade my limp for your bastardy any day of the week.”
He believed her. She could see it in his eyes.
With a groan of relief, Rudolf yanked her into his arms. He lowered his head to kiss her, but she held up her hand.
“Your lack of trust offends me,” Samantha told him.
“Forgive my lapse in judgment,” Rudolf said, a smile touching his lips. “How can I make it up to you?”
Love me. “Stop attending balls and operas without me.”
Rudolf laughed. His mouth covered hers, pouring all of his need into that soul-stealing kiss.
“I love you,” Samantha told him.
Rudolf held her tightly, his arms encircling her, as if he would never let her go. “I do not deserve your love.”
Samantha felt her heart breaking. She needed to hear those words from him.
Resting her head against his chest, Samantha said, “That was why your father preferred Vladimir.”
“Yes.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Let’s toss Venus into the Thames.”
“I could never do that,” Rudolf said. “Perhaps I should give it to Vladimir.”
“If you give it to him,” Samantha said, “I won’t marry you.”
Amusement lit his dark eyes. “Why?”
“Vladimir is unworthy of such a gift,” Samantha answered. “Besides, if the medallion is true to legend, think of all the little Vladimirs we will be setting loose on an unsuspecting world.”
Rudolf smiled but then grew serious. “There is another matter.”
Samantha gazed into his dark eyes and waited. Nothing could shock her now.
“I know the identity of my natural father,” he told her.
“And?”
“The Duke of Inverary sired me.”
Samantha swayed dizzyingly on her feet but managed to fight off a swoon. “Does he know?”
“Yes, but I prefer to keep it a secret because”—he dropped his hand to her belly— “because of my children.”
“No wonder he refused to cancel the wedding when I asked,” Samantha said. “His Grace wanted wonderful me to marry his son.”
“You are wonderful.” His lips touched hers.
The door swung open, admitting Aunt Roxie, who cried, “Your Highness, what are you doing here? Seeing the bride before the ceremony is bad luck in the extreme.”
“I have a feeling that my bad luck days are gone forever.” Rudolf looked at her aunt, adding, “I brought my bride something I want her to wear today.”
Putting his arm around her, Rudolf drew her across the chamber. Lifting the velvet pouch off the bed, he produced a jeweled tiara, encrusted with diamonds, sapphires, and other precious gems.
“My grandmother and my mother wore this tiara when they married,” Rudolf said. “Will you wear this as your headdress?”
“You know I will.”
Rudolf raised her hands to his lips. “I will see you at the church.”
* * *
At ten o’clock that morning, Samantha stood in the nave of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. With her were her aunt and the duke. The sounds of violins playing wafted through the air to her.
Samantha wore her mother’s wedding gown of white silk, embroidered with seed pearls. Its bodice had a squared neckline and long, flowing sleeves. On her head was the jewel-encrusted tiara, and in her badly shaking hands, a bouquet of orange blossoms.
“Aunt Roxie, does my belly stick out?” Samantha asked. “I wouldn’t want anyone to guess the reason for this hasty marriage.”
“You look radiant, my darling,” her aunt gushed. “Oh, I cannot believe my sweet Samantha will be a princess.”
“Well, my dear, she won’t be a princess if you don’t take your seat,” Duke Magnus said.
Her aunt left, and the duke escorted Samantha to the head of the aisle. Hundreds of guests filled the cathedral, lit by thousands of candles.
Samantha stared down the aisle. It seemed a great distance to traverse with all of those guests, mostly strangers, watching her.
“Are you ready, my dear?” Duke Magnus asked.
Samantha shook her head. She looked at him with anguished eyes. “I can’t go down that aisle.”
“Samantha, I know you love Rudolf and want to marry him,” the duke said in a soothing voice.
“I do love him, Your Grace, but walking down that aisle in front of all those people terrifies me.”
“My dear, the only way to reach the prince is down that aisle.”
Samantha shifted her gaze from the duke to the aisle. Then she nodded and placed her hand in his.
Holding her hand in a firm grip, Duke Magnus gently forced her forward. If she wanted to stop, she would need to struggle.
Samantha felt dizzy. Fright and the babe made her feel queasy. Ignoring the sea of faces turned toward her, she kept her gaze on Rudolf standing at the altar with the Bishop of London.
He was watching her. Though the prince wouldn’t give voice to the words, Samantha saw the love shining at her from his eyes.
Startling her and everyone else in the cathedral, Prince Rudolf took the unprecedented action of walking ten paces down the aisle to meet her. He raised her hand to his lips and smiled. “Hello, Princess. Are you ready to become my wife?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Samantha returned his smile, a high blush staining her cheeks.
The cathedral resounded with a collective sigh from those ladies within hearing distance. The groom and the bride ignored them, as if they were the only two people in the world.
When the bishop cleared his throat, Rudolf escorted Samantha to the altar. The Bishop of London smiled at her and opened his prayer book.
“Dearly beloved,” the bishop began, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, to join together this man and this woman . . .
“. . . therefore if any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”
“I can show just cause,” called a voice from somewhere behind them.
Rudolf and Samantha whirled around. Samantha saw a strikingly beautiful blonde, richly dressed, advancing down the aisle. She walked with grace and confidence.
“Who are you?” the bishop asked.
“I am Prince Rudolf’s wife,” the blonde answered. “I believe that is just cause.”
Samantha stepped back two paces as if she’d been struck. She heard her aunt’s and her sisters’ gasps, mutterings from the duke and the marquess, and the excited murmurings of
several hundred guests.
The prince’s wife was alive and standing here. Samantha wished she could swoon to escape her humiliation and loss.
“Olga,” Rudolf said.
“Really, Rudolf, you always had such discriminating taste in women,” the princess said, flicking a glance at Samantha. “Are you so desperate you would marry a pathetic cripple?”
Samantha stared at the blonde. An entire lifetime of pain, disappointment, and humiliation was nothing compared to this.
Please, God, send me a swoon. I cannot bear the pain.
She tried to yank her hand out of the prince’s, but he wouldn’t let her go. “This isn’t what you think,” Rudolf said. “Olga and I—”
Instead of the prince’s voice, Samantha heard the sound of ocean waves crashing in her ears. The floor rushed up to meet her as God blessed her with a swoon.
Chapter 15
“Is Samantha dead?”
“No, she’s breathing.”
“That swoon has lasted much too long.”
Surfacing from the depths of unconsciousness, Samantha heard her aunt’s and her sisters’ voices as if from a great distance. There was something she didn’t want to remember.
Moaning softly, Samantha opened her eyes and recognized her own bedchamber. What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she with her husband? And then she remembered. Harsh reality rushed back to her in a tidal wave of pain. The blond woman had said she was the prince’s wife.
“Welcome back, darling,” Aunt Roxie said. “You gave us a fright.”
Samantha looked at her aunt and sisters. Concern mingled with relief shone from their expressions. They pitied her.
A pathetic cripple. That’s what Rudolf’s wife had called her in front of six hundred aristocrats.
“Why couldn’t you just let me die?”
“Darling, you have everything to live for,” her aunt told her.
Samantha rolled away and closed her eyes. She had nothing to live for. She wished she could go home to the cottage and live out her days there. Each time her dream was within her grasp, it slipped from her fingers. It was time to let go of the dream. Permanently.
“Listen to me,” Aunt Roxie said. “The prince loves you and intends to make you his wife. Grant and Drake and Zara adore you. Within the year, you will deliver your own baby. What else could a woman want except gowns, furs, and jewels?”
A ghost of a smile touched Samantha’s lips. She could always depend on her aunt to put a practical spin on an outrageous situation.
“Thank you for trying to cheer me.” Samantha sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Rudolf is married to another woman, and the children do not belong to me.”
“Their hearts belong to you,” Aunt Roxie said. “Let’s get you undressed. Victoria, fetch your sister’s nightshift.”
Samantha stood up slowly, so they could help her remove the wedding gown. Her aunt pulled the nightshift over her head and then helped her into bed again.
“Rudolf is beside himself with worry,” Aunt Roxie told her.
Samantha said nothing. Hot tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back.
“Your prince insists he has documents to prove he is divorced,” Aunt Roxie added. “Without corroborating evidence, he needs to wait for his brothers to arrive in England to bear witness to the documents’ validity.”
“I don’t care,” Samantha said, and then sighed heavily. “I’m not going to marry him.”
“Of course you’ll marry,” her aunt said, holding her hands. “You are expecting his child.”
“I don’t want to marry the prince,” Samantha cried, losing control. “I can’t trust him. He led me to believe his wife was dead.”
“Listen to me,” Aunt Roxie said, irritation tingeing her voice. “Whether you trust him or not, you will marry him.”
“You can’t force me to the altar.”
Victoria leaped to her sister’s defense. “Samantha is correct, Aunt—”
“Keep those lips closed,” her aunt snapped. “Go to the kitchen and tell Cook your sister needs soup, toast, and tea.”
“Why do I always need to—”
“I’ll go with you.” Angelica slipped her arm through her sister’s.
“You will marry the prince even if His Grace and I need to drag you, kicking and screaming, down the aisle,” Aunt Roxie told her. “You will not embarrass His Grace and me by bearing a child out of wedlock. If you want to live apart from the prince after you’re married, that’s your business.”
“I don’t want to live separate lives,” Samantha murmured. “I want him to love me.”
“He does love you.” Aunt Roxie rose from the edge of the bed.
“I don’t want to speak to him.”
“When did you become so infuriatingly stubborn?” Aunt Roxie asked. “I would expect this recalcitrant behavior from Victoria, but never from you. Listen to what the prince has to say. You owe him that much.”
“I owe him nothing,” Samantha said. “Why can’t you leave me alone in my misery?”
Samantha rolled onto her side, tears streaming down her cheeks. First the balls, then the opera, and now a wife. How could she show her face in society?
* * *
Downstairs, Prince Rudolf sat in the study with the Duke of Inverary and the Marquess of Argyll. Drinking whiskey, the three men sat in silence while awaiting the duchess’s return from Samantha’s bedchamber.
“We should call a physician,” Rudolf said. “A swoon doesn’t last this long. Something could be wrong with the baby.”
“Women and babies are stronger than we men believe,” Duke Magnus said.
“Samantha has had a shock,” Robert said. “She’s not in any hurry to wake up.”
“The poor child was so nervous,” the duke remarked. “I had the devil of a time getting her down the aisle.”
Rudolf snapped his gaze to the duke’s. “She didn’t want to marry me?”
“Oh, she wanted to marry you all right,” Duke Magnus answered, “but didn’t want to limp in front of six hundred people. Finally, I told her the only way to reach you was down that aisle. She moved fast enough after that.”
Rudolf smiled at that and relaxed.
“Her hand shook like the palsy,” the duke told him, “but she desperately wanted to get to you.”
The three men fell silent again.
Though young and vulnerable, Samantha had an iron backbone. Because she loved him, she had faced her worst fear by walking down the aisle in front of six hundred wedding guests. This was how her bravery was rewarded. He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to do it again.
“Why would Olga do what she did?” Robert asked.
“Vladimir wants the Kazanov Venus that I took when I left Russia.” Seeing their puzzled expressions, Rudolf explained, “The Kazanov Venus is a gold medallion engraved with Venus holding her son’s hand. This has been in the Kazanov family for five hundred years and is always passed from father to firstborn son, which Vladimir contends should be his.”
“What is so important about this medallion?” Robert asked.
“Legend says that who possesses the medallion is blessed with prosperity and fertility,” Rudolf told him.
“Do you actually believe that?”
Rudolf shrugged. “What I believe is unimportant. Apparently, my brother believes the legend and is desperate to retrieve it.”
Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “I do believe my wife desires a union between Victoria and Alexander Emerson.”
Rudolf snapped his gaze to the duke’s. “Is she disappointed to get me as a husband for Samantha?”
“Victoria needs a man strong enough to control her,” Duke Magnus said. “As a matter of fact, Roxie never thought Alexander and Samantha would suit. She wanted Alexander for Victoria.”
As if speaking her name had conjured her, Roxie opened the door without knocking. Without saying a word, the duchess marched to her husband’s desk and grabbed his glass. She pour
ed a splash of whiskey into the glass and gulped it down. Then she poured herself another.
“Problems, my dear?” Duke Magnus asked, laughter lurking in his voice.
“My nieces will be the death of me,” Roxie answered. “All three are determined to put me in an early grave.”
“How is she?” Rudolf asked.
“Samantha has regained consciousness,” Roxie answered. “And I wish to hell she had stayed swooned.”
The prince rose from his chair. “I must speak with her.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned him.
“Is she angry?” Samantha had every right to be angry. He should have told her he was divorced instead of letting her think death had claimed his first wife.
“I don’t know what the twit is,” Roxie said. “This whole day has upset her to the point where she doesn’t know what she wants. Cook is preparing a tray for her, but I cannot guarantee what your reception in her chamber will be like. You have your work cut out for you.”
Rudolf left the study. A few minutes later, he stood outside her chamber. He carried a tray with a bowl of broth, two slices of toast, and tea. Without knocking, Rudolf opened the door and stepped inside. Samantha was lying in bed with her back to the door.
Rudolf paused, his heart breaking, when he realized she was sobbing dryly. Her tears had been spent, but she couldn’t stop her involuntary sobs.
“Leave it on the table,” Samantha whispered on a sob. “I’ll eat later.” Another sob.
Feeling helpless, Rudolf set the tray on the table. He stood beside the bed and stared down at her. How could he possibly comfort her when she was so consumed by pain? What words would soothe her?
“Princess, let me help you.” Rudolf sat on the edge of the bed. “Your unhappiness will sicken the baby.” Over her protests, he gathered her into his arms and held her tight against his chest. “I wish I could take away your pain.”
Rudolf tilted her face up and winced at the sight of her swollen eyes. “Olga and I divorced when she learned that I am a bastard,” he told her. “Because of my origins, she has never taken an interest in Zara.”
To Charm a Prince Page 22
