Three Weeks with a Princess

by Vanessa Kelly

  Because he wouldn’t have put it past Anne to call on Lia directly under the guise of making an apology, he’d finally agreed to allow her to come with him today. By being close by, he could ameliorate whatever damage resulted from the confrontation as best he could.

  His sister was a kind and tolerant woman, but she was also fiercely loyal to their mother and understood better than anyone how fraught all their lives would become if Jack took Lia as his bride. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet come up with any good way to placate his mother. Strictly speaking, there were no benefits to marrying Lia—at least of a material or social nature.

  No, the benefits were more ephemeral but even more valuable. Lia’s calm, clear-eyed understanding and her cheerful support for the challenges that faced him were blessings probably only he could see.

  As for telling his mother that he desired Lia with a passion that now kept him awake at night . . . well, the old girl would be more inclined to take down a set of hunting pistols from the wall and shoot him if he dared make that argument.

  When he reached them, the ladies glanced up, surprised. They’d been so engrossed that they’d failed to note his approach.

  He directed a brief scowl at his sister, then sat in the empty chair beside Lia and took her hand. “I hope my annoying little sister hasn’t been too much of a bother, sweetheart.”

  Lia’s eyes went wide. He’d clearly startled her, but he didn’t see the point in pretending there was nothing between them.

  “Um, no,” she said, “everything’s fine.” When she tugged her hand, Jack reluctantly let go.

  Anne gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ve just been chatting, that’s all.”

  “About the weather? Or Lady Peckworth’s decorating skills?” he asked sarcastically.

  His sister had the grace to blush. “All right, we’ve been talking about the family, but I swear I haven’t said anything to scare her off.”

  “I should hope not or you’ll have to answer to me,” Jack said.

  “How utterly terrifying,” Anne said with a cheeky little grin. “I’m shaking in my boots, I am.”

  “You are an unrepentant brat. Now, would you please go away so I can talk to Lia? Besides, Lady Peckworth wants to see you—she’s practically quivering with anticipation at the thought of taking you through the house.”

  “Ah, very well.” Anne stood and brushed a few stray leaves from the skirts of her gown. She smiled at Lia. “Thank you for speaking with me. I hope we have a chance to talk again soon.”

  Lia came to her feet as well. “Thank you, my lady. Again, I appreciate your honesty.”

  Alarm bells started clanging in his head.

  When Anne gave Lia a quick hug, it surprised the hell out of Jack—and, from her expression, Lia, too. His sister briefly pressed his arm and then headed across the lawn to meet Lady Peckworth.

  “Don’t forget to ask her ladyship to show you the kitchens,” Lia called after her. “Especially the new range.”

  Anne waved a hand and was soon out of earshot.

  “She upset you, didn’t she?” Jack said. After her illness, Lia had yet to recover her healthy country glow, and today she was looking even paler than usual. “I swear I’ll throw her into the Thames myself, even if she is my only sibling.”

  A gleam of humor sparked in her eyes. “Your sister is a very nice woman. In fact, she told me she regretted we were never able to be friends. She also said she’d been jealous of me, if you can believe it.”

  “Actually, I can. Our mother relied on Anne for support from an early age, and it placed too great a burden on her.”

  “So she said. I’m so sorry, Jack.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry for everything.”

  He wrapped his hand around her much smaller one. Still, there was strength and sturdiness in her grip, the sign of a girl not afraid to work. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, love. You’ve never hurt anyone in your life.”

  “Yes, but my family hurt your family very much. I feel awful about that.”

  “Most of the blame rests with the men in my family, not the women in yours,” he said dryly. “Given the workings of the world, your mother and grandmother had far fewer choices in life. They did what they had to do to survive and protect their children.”

  When Lia withdrew her hand and took a step back, it felt as if she’d put a hundred yards between them.

  “There were some choices they could have chosen not to make,” she said in a voice that held a low vibration of sorrow.

  “Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me all about it,” he said gently.

  She looked around, almost as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. “I think I’d rather walk. Do you mind? The gardens are quite extensive, and I’ve hardly seen any of them.”

  Even better. Jack had already discovered a few very private spots, and if conclusions were drawn about their absence, that would fit nicely into his plans.

  “I’m already familiar with Lord Peckworth’s gardens,” he said. “I can show you the finest spots. Let’s start with a stroll along the river.”

  He offered an arm and she took it without hesitation, tucking herself neatly against his side. They set off along a graveled path, Lia easily matching his pace. The fact that she never dawdled was just another thing he loved about her.

  Once they were out of sight, she untied the ribbons of her bonnet and pulled it from her head. A few pins came loose and glossy streamers of hair fluttered around her neck and shoulders. She briefly raised her face to the sun and let out a sigh. As attuned as Jack was to her, he knew it was not one of contentment or relief. While her profile presented an enchanting picture, the set of her mouth was tight and unhappy.

  “I’m glad we’re friends again,” he said, testing the waters.

  She flashed him a quick, quizzical smile. “Of course we’re friends. We’ll always be friends. At least I hope so,” she added.

  “I hope for rather more than that, Lia,” he said.

  She threw him a veiled, even wary look. “Really? Have you decided to become my protector, after all?”

  He brought her to a halt. “We’ve already discussed this. I am not turning you into a whore.” He deliberately used the ugly term, hoping to shock her into awareness.

  “No? Are you a magician? Can you turn me into something more to your own liking?” She snapped her fingers. “Perhaps a fairy-tale princess? That would be nice, and very apt.”

  “Very funny,” he said. “What I would like to turn you in to, as you should know with thundering clarity, is a wife. My wife, to be precise.”

  She started walking at a fast enough clip that it took a few strides to catch up to her.

  “Jack, you know that’s not possible and it’s time you accepted that,” she said.

  He steered her in the direction of a beech tree bordering the riverbank. A lovely wrought-iron bench in the shade of the leafy, overhanging limbs offered a sheltered spot far enough away from the house and the main gardens that they should be undisturbed.

  “I don’t accept anything of the sort.” He gave her shoulder a little push and she plunked down on the seat with what he could only describe as an adorable scowl.

  Her glare was sharp enough to slice him into slivers, and yet all he could think about was how enchanting she looked even when she was mad at him. He wanted nothing more than to take her down into the soft grass, slowly divest her of her clothing, and devour her gorgeous, naked body from tip to toe. He burned with the need to be inside her, plunging deep, feeling her clench around him until he found his blessed release.

  She was truly going to send him straight to the madhouse—or cripple him with thwarted lust.

  He propped one booted foot up on the bench and rested an arm on his thigh. “What did my sister tell you that put you off marrying me?”

  “You are an utter booby,” she said with exasperation. “It seems to have slipped your mind that I have not, in fact, agreed to marry you. Quite the opposite.”


  “After the events at the Cyprians’ ball, I would beg to differ.”

  “If you mention that blasted ball one more time, I’m going to have to do something desperate.”

  “Which would be?”

  She eyed him with disfavor. “I’m thinking I might shoot you. At least then you’ll stop nagging me.”

  When he laughed, her mouth curled up into a reluctant grin. She settled her bonnet on her lap and let her gaze drift to the river.

  Jack was content to hold his fire and allow the scene to work its quiet magic. A gentle breeze set the tall reeds to rustling and dragonflies darted in erratic zigzags across the surface of the water. With only a few smaller boats sailing by, it was the kind of peaceful, bucolic setting that usually bored him. But this time it made him think of Stonefell and wonder how life there was proceeding in his absence. He almost missed it, which was a new sensation. The old estate had always been more of a burden than anything else. Sometimes, it had felt like a millstone around his neck, strangling him.

  But now, another feeling was slowly supplanting his resentment, slipping inside so quietly he’d almost missed its arrival. It was a sense of pride in Stonefell, and recognition that it was a beautiful and noble old place very much worth saving. He couldn’t help but think that its rescue would be more honor than burden.

  Lia’s features had now settled into lines of lovely serenity. The country was where she belonged, and when he thought about taking her home to Stonefell as his bride, eagerness surged within him, along with an optimism he hadn’t felt in a long time. With her by his side, to help him and to love him, what had previously felt like a burden seemed no sacrifice at all.

  “I’m looking forward to going back,” he said. “To Stonefell.”

  It took her a moment to catch up. When she did, her gaze narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Of course not. I’m simply telling you that I’ll be happy to return home, especially with you. As my bride,” he added with pointed emphasis.

  “If you take me back to Stonefell as your bride, it will be more along the order of a forced retreat because we’ll be fleeing your mother.”

  “She’ll come around.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Lia—” he began impatiently.

  “Very well,” she said, cutting him off. “Does this mean you’ve decided to accept Dominic and Leverton as investors in the mining scheme?”

  “Who told you about that?”

  “Gillian. She said they’re quite keen on it but that you’re dragging your heels.”

  He cursed under his breath, wanting to throttle Gillian, along with his sister and mother for good measure. They were all making what should be a simple situation needlessly difficult.

  “While I’m grateful for their support,” he said, “it’s not yet clear that the mine will yield enough profit to justify their investments. As you can imagine, I do not wish to find myself deeper in debt if it does not.”

  “Gillian seems to think the mining venture is viable.”

  “She doesn’t know everything,” he said.

  “I thought she was being too optimistic,” she said with grim satisfaction.

  Confound it. He’d backed right into that one. “It will likely be very profitable at some point, but these things take time. That’s all I’m saying.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Time Stonefell does not have, as we both know. You can’t possibly afford to marry me, Jack, and what you said just proves it. You need a rich wife and you need one soon.”

  The determination in her voice raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “It’s truly not that bad,” he said firmly.

  “It is that bad and you know it. We all know it. Marrying me will simply make the situation worse. And I refuse to be the cause of Stonefell’s ruin.”

  He plunked his foot to the ground. Looming over her, he mustered up his most forbidding scowl. “Because you are no longer on the stage, I would remind you that such dramatic utterances are no longer necessary.”

  She snorted. “I’ll determine what’s necessary when it comes to my life, Jack. You cannot force me to marry you. And I feel quite confident that your mother and your sister will support me in my decision.”

  “Lia—”

  “There are only two options here. You either take me as your mistress or you agree to help me find a protector. If you fail to choose either, I will simply proceed as planned and find my own protector.”

  She’d very ably cornered him again. Lia had always wanted the best for him, and if that meant sacrificing her own happiness, she would do it. She loved him and she also loved Stonefell, possibly more than she loved him. It was a thought he chose not to dwell on at the moment.

  In her mind, she’d made the entirely rational decision that marriage wouldn’t solve any of his problems. But when it came to Lia, Jack felt anything but rational. She was his. She’d always been his, he realized, as he’d always been hers. The notion of not having her in his life was simply unthinkable.

  As for taking her as his mistress, that was no option at all. He wasn’t his father or his uncle. To take her in that way would dishonor and eventually destroy them both.

  So play along and buy some time.

  “Very well,” he said. “Let’s say I agree to your mad scheme. What would that entail exactly?”

  Her mouth sagged slightly open. “Uh, are you saying you might actually take me as your mistress?”

  “We’ll see.” He could draw a hard line, too. “I need to know your terms first. And I need time to make a decision. This isn’t something a man should rush in to blindly.”

  “Perhaps, but don’t think I’ll let you drag this out forever, Jack Easton,” she said suspiciously. “I won’t let you manage me.”

  “I wouldn’t even try. Now, your terms?”

  She eyed him warily before holding up three fingers. “You have three weeks. If you have not made a decision in that time, I will proceed on my own.”

  It was more than enough time for him, but it was an odd qualification. “What’s so special about three weeks?”

  She blushed, shifting on her seat. “It’s just a nice, round number, that’s all,” she said.

  He decided to let it pass for now. “Very well, I accept that condition. What else?”

  “If you decide not to become my protector, I want you to help me devise some tests.”

  His mind went blank. “Tests.”

  “Yes, tests,” she said defiantly. “For potential protectors.”

  “What sort of tests?”

  She waved a vague hand. “You know.”

  “I bloody well do not know. Perhaps you could try being more precise.”

  The gentle blush of a few moments before had now deepened to a blazing rose. “Um, well, a kissing test, for one.”

  He stared at her, his brain finding it hard to function. “What would be the purpose of such a test?”

  “I’m going to have to kiss my protector, obviously, so I want to make sure I’m doing it right. That and other things,” she added.

  He couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Sweetheart, you had no trouble with kissing the other night, I assure you.”

  “That was different.”

  “Why?” He was almost beginning to enjoy himself. Almost.

  “Because it was you,” she snapped.

  Ah.

  “I see.” He stroked his chin, as if deep in thought. “And did you enjoy kissing me?”

  She regarded him with an expression of acute dislike. “You know, I think you’re simply too annoying to be my protector. Are you going to help me or aren’t you?”

  He had to swallow his smile. “Perhaps I’m not clear on the purpose of the kissing test.”

  “I would assume that one could determine quite a bit from the way a gentleman kisses a woman, correct? Such as whether he’s someone who would treat his mistress with consideration and respect.” She twirled a hand. “So . . . what sort of kissing behavior sho
uld I be alerted to? What would suggest that a man might not be a good candidate for the role of protector?”

  “If he tries to force himself on you, as Sir Nathan did, I’d say that might be a fairly good indication,” Jack said sarcastically.

  She bolted to her feet. “If you’re not going to take this seriously—”

  “Forgive me, pet,” he said, mustering a soothing tone as he gently pressed her back down. “I take this very seriously indeed.”

  There was no way on God’s earth he would ever let another man kiss her, unless it was a friendly peck on the cheek from a relative or friend.

  She subsided with a grumble. “Then please get on with it, Jack. My backside is beginning to feel numb from sitting on all these iron seats.”

  He had to wrestle his mind off the image of her naked backside, preferably underneath his naked front side. “Very well. Number one—if a man tries to take liberties with you, you must put a stop to it immediately.”

  Lia frowned. “But he’s already taking liberties, because I’m allowing him to kiss me.”

  “I mean further liberties, of course. Such as if he attempts to insert his tongue into your mouth.”

  She winced. “Right. But eventually he’ll wish to do that, will he not?”

  Jack gave her a gentle smile. “He’ll insist on it. I know I would.”

  She fidgeted with the satin ribbons of her bonnet. “I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it, then. Although perhaps I could institute a rule that he can only use his tongue when I give him permission.”

  “That’s ridiculous. No man in his right mind would agree to a rule like that from his mistress.”

  “Oh blast,” she muttered. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “He’ll want to do lots of other things, too,” he said.

  She began to look slightly alarmed. “What sort of things?”

  “Like the sort of things we did the other night.”