The Accidental Princess

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘I don’t blame you for it.’ She stifled a yawn, leaning her head against his chest. ‘I’m just glad you found me.’

  ‘Hannah, I was angry, and I said things I didn’t mean.’ His fingers traced the line of her jaw. ‘I love you, and I’m offering you a choice. I want you to marry me, whether you want to be a Princess or merely a lieutenant’s wife.’

  She stood up on tiptoes, lifting her mouth to his. ‘I love you, Michael. And wherever you go, I will go.’

  ‘Even if it means having to endure this life, with all the trappings of royalty?’

  She sent him a mysterious smile. ‘Oh, I don’t intend for it to be a trap. Not any more.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Three days later

  ‘Lady Hannah, you simply must wear white,’ her maid Estelle argued, holding up one of her mother’s lists. ‘Lady Rothburne specifically listed this gown in her instructions, should you attend a formal occasion.’

  ‘No, I disagree. White would make her brown hair stand out too much,’ Lady Schmertach argued. ‘She needs something softer, more feminine.’

  The two ladies were battling between an embroidered ivory silk gown and a pale sea-green gown trimmed with antique lace. Tonight, the King was planning to formally acknowledge Michael as the Crown Prince to the people of Vermisten. In turn, Michael intended to announce their betrothal. The entire palace was buzzing with the news.

  Hannah ignored the two bickering ladies and opened the door to her wardrobe. Staring at her choices, she selected a crimson silk gown trimmed with ribbons and pearls. It would bare her shoulders, with only slight wisps of fabric as sleeves on her upper arms. With long white gloves, the gown would be vibrant, commanding everyone’s attention.

  ‘I will wear this.’

  Both women gaped at her. ‘But, Lady Hannah, that colour is too scandalous,’ Estelle burst in.

  ‘It’s the sort of dress a courtesan would wear,’ Lady Schmertach interjected. ‘Not a Princess.’

  No, it wasn’t at all the dress a Princess would wear. At least, not a Princess who would be subservient to the wishes of those around her. Not a Princess who would hide behind lists and rules, wondering if she was behaving like a proper lady.

  No, it was the gown that a confident woman would wear. A woman who was making her own rules.

  Hannah’s smile was serene. ‘I have made my decision.’

  ‘But, my lady, you can’t possibly—’

  ‘You will abide by my wishes, or you will both find yourselves in another post.’ Hannah sent them a cool, commanding look, and her message was clear. After exchanging looks, both women dropped into curtsies.

  My goodness, that felt good. Liberating, actually. She’d never given orders before, always letting others dictate her decisions.

  ‘Do you…wish to wear the diamonds or the rubies, my lady?’ Estelle ventured.

  ‘The rubies,’ Hannah pronounced.

  She held out her arms, waiting for them to finish dressing her. Estelle clamped her mouth shut and obeyed. Though Lady Schmertach appeared horrified, she, too, assisted the maid. When they had finished, a soft knock resounded at the door.

  Lady Schmertach answered it at Hannah’s bidding, and a footman came forth with a message. ‘The King has requested your presence, Lady Hannah. He wishes to speak with you about your betrothal.’ The servant bowed and stepped back into the hall, waiting to escort her. She couldn’t exactly keep the King waiting, so she followed the footman, with Lady Schmertach trailing as a silent chaperone.

  Hannah felt more than conspicuous in her red gown, particularly for a royal summons. It was one thing to wear a shocking dress for a court ball; it was another to wear such a garment in front of a dying king.

  The footman led her into the King’s chambers, where she saw the monarch seated in a high-backed, upholstered chair.

  Hannah fell into a deep curtsy. ‘Your Majesty, I received your summons.’ It was the first time she had ever been in the presence of a king. Her nerves grew rattled, and she was afraid of somehow saying the wrong thing.

  The King was not old, but illness had drawn away his strength. His grey hair hung at his shoulders, deep wrinkles set within his eyes. Yet she sensed a ruthless air of authority. His gaze passed over her gown with disapproval. ‘I understand that my son wishes to marry you. And that you are the daughter of an English Marquess.’

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’

  ‘Why would you believe that you could possibly understand the role of a Princess? Do you think yourself capable of ruling at his side?’

  No, she didn’t know anything about ruling a country, any more than Michael did. But beneath his pointed questions, she saw a man who was trying to intimidate her.

  Be polite, she warned herself. ‘I can learn what I need to know.’

  The King regarded her with dismissal. ‘You haven’t any idea what the life of a Princess is like. I suppose you believe that Princesses sit around all day wearing diamonds and choosing new gowns.’

  His callous remark sent all of her years of good manners and training up in flames. Hannah counted silently to five, then ten.

  ‘No, that’s not what I believe at all.’

  ‘You want to marry my son because you want to become royalty, isn’t that right?’

  ‘I am going to marry Michael Thorpe,’ she said firmly. ‘Not a Prince or Fürst, or whatever else you want to call him. I am going to marry the man I love, not his title.’

  Before the King could add another sardonic remark, she plunged forward. ‘And, yes, I know exactly what the life of a Princess is like. She has rules to obey, expectations to live up to and countless advisers telling her what she should and shouldn’t do.’

  Hannah picked up her skirts and stood directly in front of the King. ‘And I would likely be the worst sort of Princess you’d ever have. Do you want to know why?’

  The King shook his head, but she spied a gleam in his eyes.

  ‘Because I refuse to live like that. I don’t care at all whether I should be wearing a white gown or pearls or a crown. Or whether I should host a garden party or an evening soirée.’ Her hands clenched into fists at her side.

  ‘I care about whether the man I love is safe at night. I care about a widowed woman, Mrs Turner, who risked her own life to save his. And I care about a man who is about to lose not only his kingdom tonight, but his own father. Just because he was born on the wrong side of the sheets.’

  When she was finished, her lungs were burning. But Hannah met the King’s enigmatic gaze with no regrets.

  ‘You’re wrong, Lady Hannah,’ the King said. ‘You wouldn’t be at all the worst sort of Princess. You’d be the kind of Princess I would want my son to marry.’

  The King reached out for her hand, and smiled. ‘After the ceremony, I have no doubt you will tell me all the changes I need to make to my kingdom.’ He coughed, signalling to a servant for his medicine. Then he leaned back against the chair to rest.

  Hannah’s face turned the same shade as her dress. ‘My mother would be appalled at what I’ve just said to you.’

  ‘I prefer a woman who speaks her mind. And—’ the King’s smile turned wicked ‘—that is a fetching gown, I must say.’

  For the ceremony, Michael had ordered thirty guards to surround them, with more men disguised as townspeople to infiltrate the crowds for the greatest protection.

  ‘We don’t need an army,’ Hannah protested, taking his hand in hers. ‘It’s only a ceremony and a blessing. The King will acknowledge you as his son, and there will be a ball tonight. You’re behaving as though we’re about to go to war.’

  ‘I’m going to keep you safe.’ Michael studied every angle of the men, ensuring that each one was in his place. Stealing a glance toward Hannah, he added, ‘As beautiful as you look tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else tried to take you away from me. And I’d rather not murder a man in the midst of the ceremony, all things considered.’

  ‘I’m so glad you dec
ided to take your place as Prince.’ Hannah leaned in and pressed a kiss upon his cheek. The diamond-and-aquamarine ring sparkled upon her hand. Though the Queen had tried to get her to wear an heirloom betrothal ring that belonged to one of his great-grandmothers, Hannah had refused.

  ‘I don’t have a choice,’ Michael admitted, ‘but it’s the right thing to do.’

  Though he had not been raised to a life of privilege, he could use his past experience to help the people. He could be a better Prince, precisely because he understood their hardships and could relate to them. The guardsmen, in particular, had already begun treating him as their ruler. Word had spread about how he had led them against Lady Brentford’s men and saved their lives.

  ‘You should consider Karl as one of your advisers,’ Hannah suggested, with a smile. ‘I’ve never met a man so devoted to his country.’

  ‘I don’t entirely trust him.’ Michael still felt a lingering resentment that Karl had found Hannah first. And despite her claims that the Fürst had been honourable, Michael couldn’t believe the man’s motives were selfless.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I asked a guardsman to check on Lady Brentford,’ Hannah said. ‘Even though the King sent away the Viscount and his daughter, I have a bad feeling about her imprisonment.’

  ‘There were three men guarding her,’ Michael insisted. What he didn’t tell her was that he, too, had gone to ensure Lady Brentford remained imprisoned. The Viscountess had laughed at him again, swearing that he would never become king.

  ‘Nothing will happen,’ Michael promised.

  ‘I hope not.’

  They could not engage in further conversation, because it was time to join the King and Queen on the dais. Hours of political speeches preceded the King’s formal announcement. Though König Sweyn had to lean upon his servants to stand before the people, his proclamation was clear and undeniable. Michael was his true son and would inherit the throne.

  Michael hardly heard a word of the King’s speech. His gaze studied each and every member of the crowd, for fear of someone threatening Hannah. But when the archbishop approached to give the blessing, Michael had no choice but to leave her side.

  A flicker of motion caught his attention. He saw Karl, standing amid the crowd, only a few feet away. There was a look of determination in the former Prince’s eyes, just as he raised his revolver.

  Michael threw himself towards Hannah and the gun exploded.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A servant who’d been close to Michael dropped forward upon the dais, a knife clenched in his hands. Blood pooled from his chest, and Hannah recognised him as one of Reischor’s footmen. He’d been sent to assassinate Michael.

  She covered her mouth with her hands, while Michael pulled her tightly to him. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t let go.

  Chaos erupted below them in the crowd, guards surrounding Karl. But Hannah couldn’t dwell upon it, for her mind was centred on the danger. Michael could have been killed just now, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, gripping him tightly.

  Michael shook his head. ‘Stay here with the guards. I need to speak with Karl.’

  ‘He saved your life, Michael,’ she reminded him. Though the shot had been risky, if Karl hadn’t taken it just now, Michael would be dead. Hannah shuddered to think of it.

  He touched her cheek. ‘I won’t let him be harmed.’

  Michael walked back on the dais, shielded by the King’s men. Karl held his ground, meeting Michael’s gaze with a steadfast look of his own. It was the look of a man satisfied with the outcome.

  The crowd studied the two men, both sons of the King. Murmurs of the Changeling legend were whispered. Every last citizen of Vermisten stared at the pair, shocked and fascinated by the mirrored faces.

  Karl attempted a bow, but Michael stopped him. Instead, he crossed forward and offered his hand to his half-brother. In doing so, he acknowledged Karl as an equal, granting him the highest honour.

  ‘It seems I owe you my thanks a second time,’ Michael said, his voice loud enough for all to hear. ‘Brother.’

  One month later

  ‘You aren’t supposed to be here,’ Hannah chided, when Michael slipped inside her chamber. ‘If my mother finds you, she’ll beat you across the head with her parasol.’

  ‘I doubt it. She’s too eager to have you marry into royalty.’ He lifted her hand, where the diamond-and-aquamarine engagement ring sparkled.

  ‘She’s going to send me into an asylum,’ Hannah groaned, just thinking of her mother’s excitement over the past few weeks.

  ‘Don’t worry. Mrs Turner will keep your mother occupied.’

  Hannah ventured a smile. Abigail Turner had been granted a full pardon by the King and Queen, and had rejoined the Queen’s ladies. The castle staff was aware of her condition, and Mrs Turner had a servant of her own to tend her, when necessary.

  The remainder of the time, she was under the care of her husband, Sebastian, who had escaped his captors and had hidden in Denmark the past twenty-three years. Hannah still smiled to think of their reunion, the elderly couple embracing as though it was their wedding day.

  Michael kissed her deeply, and a secret thrill heated her blood. She couldn’t believe this man was going to be her husband tomorrow.

  When he pulled back, he offered, ‘I spoke to Karl this morning. He seemed surprised at the estates and land I granted to him. But I thought it was only fitting, since he is to be an adviser.’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault that he was caught in the middle of this,’ Hannah said.

  ‘I agree. Queen Astri isn’t pleased, but the King is acknowledging him as his illegitimate son and granting him an honorary title.’

  Michael’s hands moved down the silk of her gown, and he nipped at her chin. ‘Do you want to be late for dinner tonight?’

  Before she could answer, the door burst open. Lady Rothburne clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Hannah! What on earth are you thinking, being alone with a man in your room?’

  ‘Michael is going to be my husband tomorrow,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Well, he isn’t right now.’ Lady Rothburne made a shooing motion with her hands. ‘And I’m certain that His Royal Highness can wait.’

  Michael sent her a secret wink, nodding to the women as he made his exit. His palace guards followed him, once he was in the hallway.

  Lady Rothburne began discussing the wedding flowers and decorations, arguing in favour of roses instead of lilies. Hannah ignored the conversation, for she didn’t really care what kind of flowers there were at the ceremony.

  ‘And, Hannah, you really should change the gown you’re wearing. That amethyst colour…why, it’s scandalous. No decent woman would wear such a thing to dinner.’

  Hannah simply ignored her mother’s chiding. She had livened up the colours of her wardrobe, after Michael had sent her shopping for her wedding trousseau. Afterwards, many of the ladies of the court had followed her example. ‘This particular gown was a gift from the Queen, Mother,’ Hannah added, enjoying the look of astonishment on her mother’s face.

  ‘Well. I suppose it must be perfectly appropriate, then.’ Lady Rothburne touched her heart and gave a happy sigh. ‘I can hardly believe that my little girl is going to be a Princess. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of.’

  Hannah would have wed Michael if he were a beggar, but didn’t say so.

  ‘And your cousins, Dietrich and Ingeborg, were surprised beyond belief to hear about your engagement. I cannot believe you never once visited their estate in Germany.’ Her mother fanned herself, her cheeks flaming. ‘Oh, the scandals you’ve caused.’

  ‘It was never my intention to worry anyone, Mother.’ She hadn’t revealed any of the attempts on their lives, not wanting to make her mother any more agitated than she already was. ‘And everything is going to be fine. No one cares about the past.’ Particularly herself.

  ‘I must admit, this is
all so unfamiliar to me,’ Christine blustered. ‘I hardly speak the language well enough, and the customs are so different. Why, I’m not even certain how I should behave at the simplest of society functions!’

  Hannah drew her mother into an embrace, hiding her laugh. ‘Don’t worry, Mother,’ she said, drawing back with a broad smile. ‘I’ll make you a list.’

  ‘You were meant to be a Princess,’ Michael said, as he knelt before Hannah, gently massaging her sore feet. ‘Queen Astri was quite proud of you.’

  Hannah’s ladies-in-waiting had helped her to remove the wedding finery, and his new wife wore a simple nightgown trimmed with lace. He didn’t intend for Hannah to wear it much longer.

  Their wedding day had been nothing short of a fairy tale, with a horse-drawn carriage, the ceremony itself held inside St Mark’s Cathedral in Vermisten. He’d been spellbound at the sight of Hannah in her cream silk wedding gown and the diamond crown the Queen had insisted that she wear.

  Around her neck, Hannah had worn the diamond necklace from that night at the ball, so many months ago. Just seeing it nestled against her throat brought back so many memories of the time when he had rescued her from Belgrave. And he understood that she’d worn it as a reminder of that night when they’d spent hours together.

  ‘Are you disappointed not to be a soldier any more?’ she asked, helping him to remove his shirt.

  ‘I can help the troops more as a Prince,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve arranged to send fifty men from Lohenberg, to deliver supplies to the front. The general was most grateful, even if he did grant me an honourable discharge from the British Army.’

  Hannah’s palms slid over his bare skin, and he leaned in to kiss her throat. The heady fragrance of jasmine swept over him. ‘What about you?’ he murmured, lifting the hem of her nightgown, sliding the silk up her thighs. ‘I’ve imprisoned you in this life, as my Princess. Any regrets?’