Princess in Love

by Julianne MacLean

  Her initial shock began to subside as he stroked a finger along her arm and managed to calm her nerves with the magic of his touch.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked. “Should I tell Randolph about us before he leaves? I feel that I must, but I don’t want to weaken his position once he reaches the conference. Now is not the time for Randolph to be insulting the son of the Austrian emperor by telling him that his fiancée no longer wishes to marry him because she has taken up with an ex-lover.”

  “Randolph may be our king,” Leo said, “but he is your brother first. I do not believe he would force you to do anything you do not wish to do.”

  “Perhaps you are right.”

  Leopold covered her hand with his, pulled it to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “Whatever hardships you must endure, know that I will be at your side. Do not despair. I lost you once before. I will not lose you again. I do not care what it takes, even if I have to wait a lifetime, I will. If you would prefer to wait until after the Congress to tell Randolph, I will honor your wishes and I will reveal nothing to anyone about what exists between us—as long as you are mine in the end.”

  Her heart warmed at this clear proof of his devotion, but she could not relax just yet. There was still so much uncertainty. “We will have to tread very carefully,” she said.

  “I always do.”

  She couldn’t bear it any longer. She had to touch him, feel closer to him. Sitting forward, she took his face in her hands. “Please kiss me. We don’t have much time before I must return.”

  At the mere mention of returning to the crowded ballroom, he pressed his lips firmly to hers.

  His hand slid down her leg and found its way under her skirts. She shivered at the pleasure of his caress as he rolled onto her and continued to kiss her passionately on the mouth, his tongue softly probing, teasing her with its sweet, sensual eroticism.

  “Oh, Leo,” she whispered on a breathless sigh of delight. She tipped her head back to offer him full access to her neck and shoulders. “I want you so badly.”

  “I want you, too.” He slid his hand to the damp center of her womanhood.

  She gasped at the shock of the intrusion, but immediately took pleasure in it as he stroked her tender folds, exploring all her secrets, sliding his finger everywhere.

  “My sweet virgin,” he whispered in her ear. “Tell me you’ll be mine.”

  “I will be,” she replied. “I am.”

  He shut his eyes, losing himself in the rapture of her words while he pleasured her gently with his hand and kissed her deeply on the mouth.

  Soon her body began to quiver and pulse with a current of sexually charged heat. She thrust her hips forward, pushing against his hand and pulling him closer.

  “It feels good,” she sighed, as a tremulous orgasm came upon her suddenly and unexpectedly. She had no power to keep it at bay and shuddered beneath him in a series of tiny spasms and moans.

  Their mouths collided as she cried out. She realized he was doing what he must to smother her cries of pleasure, in case anyone was lurking in the corridor.

  When the wave of ecstasy receded, she laid her head down and smiled. “I dreamed of a moment like this. Many of them, actually.”

  He withdrew his hand and lowered her skirts over her knees. “As have I, and I will continue to dream—now more than ever.”

  “Does this mean I am no longer a virgin?”

  He kissed her lightly on the nose. “I was very careful,” he explained. “I only touched you on the outside.”

  “Why? I told you I was yours. I want to give myself to you completely, and no one else. Not ever.”

  “That pleases me, Rose, but your maidenhead is not mine to take. Not until we are man and wife. I will not dishonor you that way, and certainly not like this, on a sofa in a back room at a ball. When I make love to you, it will be special. We will take our time. It will not be rushed.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That only makes me want you more. How will I ever survive until then?”

  “There are other things we can do,” he whispered suggestively in her ear, teasing her with his seductive appeal and ensuring her that he was committed.

  After what he’d just shown her, the probability of her marrying another man was reduced to nothing.

  “Other things … Such as?”

  With a sexually charged smile that sent her reeling, he kissed her trembling lips. “I will teach you everything, darling, but for now, we must deliver you back to the ballroom.”

  He stood and helped her to her feet, then bent to pick up her gloves. While she pulled them on and ran her hands over her hair to ensure all was in order, he pulled on his jacket and gloves.

  “How shall we proceed?” she asked. “Will you go first, or shall I?”

  “You,” he replied. “I will watch from the window as you cross the courtyard to satisfy myself that you have reached your destination safely. Then I will follow a few minutes later.”

  She kissed him fiercely. “How long will it be until we are alone again? I must see you before you leave for Vienna.”

  He took hold of her hands. “Let’s meet again when you go riding.”

  “That wouldn’t be wise. If my groom revealed that I met you a second time, it would arouse suspicion. I must be very careful. Nicholas has done enough damage to this family with his rakish ways, and if I become the root of another scandal, Randolph will be far less sympathetic toward my feelings and more likely to ship me off to Austria.”

  “You are meant to belong to me, Rose. No one else.”

  Her heart beat wildly with distress. What if none of this was possible? What if this wonderful happiness would soon come crashing down all around her?

  No, she wouldn’t let it. She would do whatever it took.

  “I will tell him as soon as possible,” she said, “but we should still be discreet until I am free.”

  She waited for Leopold to make a suggestion.

  His eyes glimmered with renewed purpose. “Can you slip out of the palace after dark? Borrow a dress from your maid and a hooded cloak. If you could reach the outer gates, I will meet you there and pick you up in my curricle. We can spend the night together at my town house. I would have you back before dawn.”

  “What about your servants?”

  He paused. “A hotel, then.”

  She shook her head. “No, that is too risky. Can we not sit out under the stars somewhere?”

  His determined expression remained unchanged. “When? I leave for Vienna the day after Randolph.”

  “Then we could meet that final night, after he is gone. One o’clock in the morning. I will exit through the south door and take the path along the tall cedar hedge. It’s dark there. No one will see me. Now I must go.”

  With that, she hurried back to the ballroom feeling certain that her life was at last on the right path to happiness, for she was in love. She was in wonderful, magical love, and nothing—nothing—was going to keep her from the man who was surely destined to be her husband.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following evening after dinner, Rose sat with Alexandra in the drawing room while Randolph and Nicholas enjoyed brandies in the library.

  “Do you remember that sweltering afternoon on the archery range,” Rose said, “when we talked about my marriage?”

  Alexandra set her glass of sherry down on the table. “Of course.”

  “I have been thinking about it a great deal, and I feel I must speak to Randolph about it.”

  The lamp beside Rose sputtered and hissed as if expressing its disapproval.

  Alexandra, however, inclined her head with understanding. “You do not wish to marry Joseph?”

  There was such finality in the honest answer to that question. Rose was not entirely comfortable with it, but could see no way around it. It was time to bring her feelings out into the open and make her decision.

  “No, I do not.”

  “You do not love him?”

>   Rose shook her head.

  “Is there any chance you might grow to love him in time?” Alexandra asked.

  Rose took a deep breath. Oh, how she hated this. “I do not believe so, for I have never felt anything but friendship toward him, and lately the idea of becoming his wife has caused me a most regrettable distress. In addition to that, I do not wish to leave Petersbourg. This is my home.”

  Alexandra laid a hand on her knee. “Then you must speak to Randolph. I am certain he would not wish you to be unhappy.”

  “That is what I believe as well, but I fear it is dreadfully ill-timed with the Vienna Congress only a week away. I do not wish to be the cause of poor international relations. I cannot imagine a worse time to jilt a fiancé—when we are about to negotiate a historic peace treaty with all the great allied powers.”

  Alexandra considered it. “Yes, the timing is most unfortunate. That is why you must speak to Randolph right away. You must give him time to consider the options.”

  Rose’s heart began to pound. “Do you think he would be willing to hear me out this evening?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  At that moment, both her brothers entered the room, and Alexandra gave Rose an encouraging nod.

  * * *

  “What is it?” Randolph asked. “You look white as a sheet.”

  Rose followed him across the library to the settee where she had lain with Leopold the night before. Her brother handed her a small glass of brandy and urged her to sit down.

  Perhaps this was a poor choice of locations in which to have this conversation, but it was too late now. She must complete what she had begun.

  “I apologize in advance for what I am about to say to you,” she said, “for I know it will not be welcome news, especially now when you are preparing to leave for Vienna.”

  Her hands were trembling when she raised the glass to her lips, but she welcomed the strong flavor of the brandy as it slid down her throat.

  Her brother—her king—sat down at the foot of the settee. “What is wrong? You must tell me.”

  With a deep breath to summon courage, she raised her chin and spoke frankly. “I am not in love with Archduke Joseph. I don’t love him. I never did.”

  Randolph stared at her for a long time, unblinking, then frowned in the suddenly hellish-looking firelight.

  “Please speak to me,” Rose said. “I cannot bear to think I am a disappointment to you. I do not wish to be, but we have always been honest with each other, so I must confess my true feelings.”

  “What are they exactly?” he asked. “You tell me you do not love the man you agreed to marry. Is there more to it than that? Do you not wish to marry him?”

  She set the crystal glass down on a bookshelf behind her and steeled her nerves for what was to come, for she could not back down now.

  “No, I do not wish to be his wife. I have only feelings of friendship toward him, and I am hoping with all my heart that you of all people will understand, for not so long ago you left Petersbourg and masqueraded as Nicholas in order to find a bride who would love you for yourself. You went to great lengths to avoid a political marriage. Yet now you ask me to carry that burden, when all I really want is to have a husband who loves me passionately, as you love Alexandra. I do not believe Joseph is that man.”

  “But he is an honorable gentleman and would never treat you unkindly. I would not have encouraged the match otherwise. Do you not find him handsome enough? Is that the problem?”

  “No, he is very good-looking, and I agree that he is a decent and kindhearted man. I know it in my head, but it is my heart that desires a different sort of love.” She stood up. “I want what you have. I want passion and devotion. I want to marry a man who would lay down his life for me.”

  “Perhaps Joseph would, if you gave him a chance.”

  She moved to the window and looked out at the moon, which was bright and full in the incredible star-speckled night sky. All she wanted to do was dash out of the palace this very instant and find Leopold waiting for her in his curricle beyond the cedar hedge, but it was not to be. At least not tonight.

  She heard Randolph rise and pour himself a drink from the crystal decanter on the drinks tray. “You haven’t seen your fiancé in months,” he said. “How could you possibly know how you feel about him?”

  Rose whirled around to face her brother. “I know my heart,” she told him. “I am not a child any longer. I am a woman. I know what I feel, and I do not appreciate your condescending tone.”

  Randolph regarded her with astonishment and set down his glass.

  “Do you realize what you are asking me to do? You want me to break off your engagement to the eldest son of the Austrian emperor? Francis is hosting the Congress, for pity’s sake! Austria is one of the greatest nations in Europe. Have you no care for the future of your country?”

  “You are a fine one to talk,” she argued. “When you married Alexandra, you had no idea how the people would respond to her. You even did so without Father’s permission or blessing because you were mad for her. You would have eloped to Scotland if you had to, so I beg of you, Randolph, to understand that I cannot sacrifice my happiness by marrying out of duty. I want more than that. I want to choose for myself.”

  He returned to the settee, sank down onto it, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He bowed his head and raked a hand through his hair.

  “Christ, what a mess this is going to be.” He looked up suddenly and frowned. “Is there someone else, Rose? By God, if any man has dared to encourage your affections while you were engaged to another, I will strangle him with my bare hands.”

  More than a little taken aback, Rose swallowed uneasily. “No, of course there is no one.” The lie slid over her lips before she had a chance to fully comprehend the fact that she had lied not only to her brother, but to her king. But she could not reveal the truth to him when he was in such a mood. God knows what he would do to Leopold. All hope would be lost.

  No, she must be released from her engagement first. Then, and only then, could she present Leopold as a possible husband.

  Moving closer to sit down beside her brother, she cautiously asked, “What are you going to do? Will you tell Joseph when you arrive in Vienna? Or should I come with you and speak to him myself?”

  Randolph laid his hand on hers. “No, it would be best if you wrote him a letter, which I will deliver to him personally.”

  “But I would prefer to come.”

  “No, Rose. I need you to stay here with Alexandra. She is still so new to the country. She needs the company of those who care about her. I don’t know how long I will be gone. The Congress could last weeks, even months, if there is conflict between the nations.”

  “Really? That long?” Her thoughts flew instantly—as they always did—to Leopold. It seemed as if she had been waiting forever to be with him, and now it could drag on even longer.

  “Are you sure about this?” Randolph asked. “Because if it is what you truly want, I will respect your wishes, but perhaps if you give it some time, you might grow to love Joseph.”

  “No,” she firmly said. “There is someone else out there for me. Someone who will love me the way you and Alexandra love each other. That is what I want, and I won’t change my mind.”

  She pulled the engagement ring from her finger, took one last look at how it sparkled in the candlelight, and handed to her brother.

  He slipped it into his pocket, then put his arm around her, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “What do you think Father would say if he were here? Would he have talked you into staying the course?”

  She almost laughed out loud. “No. He always let me get away with murder. He spoiled me rotten, and if he were here now, he would have said exactly what you just did. He would be holding me in his arms, and he would tell me that everything is going to be all right.”

  Randolph squeezed her shoulders. “Then I will say that as well. Everything will be fine, Rose
. I promise … because we Sebastians know how to look out for each other.”

  “Indeed,” she replied, “for there are always enemies lurking about, aren’t there? Skulking about in the shadows … plotting to dethrone us…”

  She spoke in jest of course, but felt a cold shiver of unease run down her spine as the words passed her lips. She wasn’t sure why, and felt compelled to sweep the sensation away as quickly as she could.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was a cloudy day, uncomfortably muggy and damp, when the Petersbourg Palace coach, followed by an envoy of vehicles carrying servants, secretaries, and a number of court ministers to advise on the negotiations, drove through the cobblestone streets of the city on its way to the peace conference in Vienna.

  Crowds of onlookers gathered along the city walls to bid farewell to the procession as it passed by in all its glorious pomp and ceremony.

  When at last they crossed the bridge and rolled onto the old coach road that would take them through endless meadows and forests, Randolph removed his hat and tipped his head back on the upholstered seat.

  “This is going to be a difficult conference,” he said. “When do you suggest I deliver the letter to Joseph? As soon as we arrive, I suppose. It wouldn’t do to put it off. I cannot very well behave as if all is well. Heaven forbid he should wish to discuss wedding plans.”

  “That would be awkward indeed,” Nicholas agreed. “But are you certain about this? You don’t think it is simply a case of cold feet on Rose’s part?”

  Rand shook his head. “You know our sister. She’s always known what she wants and will settle for nothing less. I cannot bring myself to force her into matrimony. I wouldn’t want to, and to be completely honest, a part of me is relieved. I was dreading the day when we’d have to pack her off to another country. It’s so bloody far away, and besides that, I was having some trouble with the notion of her marrying into the same family that offered one of their own daughters as a wife to Napoleon. Could you ever imagine Father doing such a thing to Rose?”

  “No, but those days are over,” Nicholas reminded him. “Austria is no longer at the mercy of that tyrant. Francis regained his honor at Leipzig.”