Authors: Julianne MacLean
She turned her attention to Randolph, who was waltzing around the room. In her eyes, he looked quite adequately recovered, but she was not about to say so.
“Then why does he wish to wed again so soon?”
“He requires an heir. Or rather, the country requires one. There are still far too many Royalists in Petersbourg who long for that sort of tradition.”
It had occurred to her more than once to simply reveal herself to Randolph and suggest a political marriage to restore her family’s bloodline to the throne—alongside of his—but her benefactor had warned against it, for Randolph wanted to marry for love.
Besides, her safety could not be assured. Not while Randolph’s father still lived. King Frederick was the one who had led the revolution against her family’s rule in the first place. Her identity must, at all costs, remain secret until her place on the throne was secure.
Nicholas picked up a glass of champagne from a passing footman and downed it in a single gulp.
“I thought the people of Petersbourg adored the new royal family,” she said cynically, then spoke under her breath: “They must have, or they wouldn’t have stuck a crown on the head of a soldier.”
Nicholas caught her remark and chuckled. “Randolph was right. You
are
daring, aren’t you?”
Oh, heaven help her. She really needed to learn how to control her tongue. Yet she found it a challenge in this man’s presence. “My apologies. I spoke out of turn.”
“Not at all. I find it refreshing, as does Randolph. You see, we meet so many young women who fumble to say all the right things. They are like shallow pools of rainwater that will disappear when the sun comes out. You, however, seem to have some depth and spirit. At least that’s what Randolph thinks after a very brief first impression. Which was why he asked me to escort you to the dessert table.”
“To interrogate me further?” she demanded.
“Yes. Later, he will ask my opinion of you.”
“And what will you tell him?”
“I’m not sure. I have not yet made up my mind.”
She breathed deeply. “Will you interrogate many other women this evening?”
Alex resisted the urge to look up at him, for she was experiencing a heated flash of displeasure at the idea of him escorting other ladies to the dessert table and doing what he must to draw them out of their shells. Would he whisper close in their ears and make them think they stood a chance with his brother if they behaved a certain way?
Not that it mattered. It did not. She would not let it. He could do whatever he damn well pleased with those other women.
“Only a few,” he replied. “Though I haven’t spotted any other potential queens yet. None have caught Randolph’s eye as you have.”
She should have felt triumphant in that moment but felt something else entirely. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it resembled anger, which made no sense.
Perhaps it was frustration. She felt rather powerless at the moment and did not like the sensation. “I am flattered, sir.” And her heart was thrashing about like a wild thing in her chest. “I must admit, however, that I was concerned after our encounter on the terrace. I feared you might strike me off his list.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you about my unfortunate circumstances—that I was here to improve upon them, which is exactly what the prince does not want in a wife. He desires true love, is that not correct?”
Nicholas faced her squarely. “Isn’t that what you want, too, Lady Alexandra?”
His voice was soft and intimate, and his eyes burned into hers.
“Perhaps,” she replied, “but there were other things I revealed to you as well—things I would not have said if I had known you were Randolph’s guardian. Now I am completely at your mercy. I hope you will not use any of that against me, as you could easily do.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “I suppose I do have you at a disadvantage, but neither you, nor I, can do anything about it now, so we must make the best of it.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
He held out a gloved hand. “Prove that your word can be trusted by honoring me with a dance, as you promised on the terrace.”
Alexandra hesitated briefly, then set down her glass, for she had no choice in the matter. If she wanted access to the future King of Petersbourg, she was going to have to dance with the devil.
And his name was Prince Nicholas.
Chapter Four
On the way home from the ball, Lucille questioned Alexandra tirelessly. “Did Prince Nicholas indicate when his brother might be available for another social engagement? Will we be forced to wait until the ball at Almack’s, or do you think he was taken with you? Is there any chance he might pay a call?”
“I don’t know, Mama.”
“I’ve heard he will be visiting the park. If we knew exactly when, we could arrange to be there at the same time, driving or strolling. What is his schedule?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You don’t know? Why did you not think to ask? Mr. Carmichael has been very generous in supporting us for the Season. He has provided us with this fine coach and a prestigious address, and a stunning set of gowns for you, not to mention wielding his influence to obtain our subscriptions to Almack’s. We cannot disappoint him. He is a very powerful man.”
“Not as powerful as Prince Randolph or his father,” Alexandra reminded her, “who is the current reigning monarch of Petersbourg. Mr. Carmichael has not held a position of power there for many years. For the duration of my life, to be exact. We are nowhere yet.”
Lucille gathered her cloak more snugly around her shoulders. “Nevertheless, he has been most patient, biding his time until you came of age. You should be grateful to him. You
were
a few days ago, but tonight you seem hesitant. Have you lost your courage?”
Alexandra regarded her stepmother steadily in the dim lamplight inside the coach. “No. I am weary, that is all.”
They were both quiet while the coach wheels clattered over the cobblestones.
“Do you think you made a satisfactory impression?” Lucille asked.
“Upon whom?” Alexandra replied.
“Upon the future king, of course! Who else matters?”
Alexandra slowly removed her gloves. “I believe you are forgetting his brother, Nicholas, who told me quite plainly that anyone who desires access to Randolph must gain
his
approval first. So I must insist that you leave it to
me
to secure my throne. Do not tell me how to behave or how to strategize, and certainly do not make me feel beholden to Mr. Carmichael, for he has his own ambitions.”
Lucille regarded Alex with some concern. “That may be true, but we cannot secure the throne without his support. He has maintained many connections with the old monarchists, and you may discover you require their help when you arrive. If King Frederick discovers who you are, he may not permit Randolph to marry you and we may have to seek an alternate route to the throne.”
Alexandra shook her head. “The king will not discover the truth. Not until after I provide an heir.”
“You seem very confident about winning a proposal from Randolph,” Lucille said. “I am impressed.”
Alexandra watched the dark city pass by outside the window. “I am confident because I learned a great deal about him tonight, thanks to Nicholas. I know what he needs.”
“And what is that?”
She leaned back in the seat. “Randolph is looking for true love. Something rather rare for a man in his position. I am quite sure I can satisfy his needs.”
Lucille scoffed. “Well. Do not be surprised if every other young lady in London is declaring the very same thing tonight while driving home from the ball.”
“But they don’t know what I know,” Alexandra insisted. “And besides, I have Nicholas in my corner.”
“You are certain?”
“Yes,” she replied, but was she really? Based on her body’s response to him earlier in the evening, veering around him could prove to be a very tricky maneuver. Nevertheless, she maintained an air of confidence. “I saw it in his eyes tonight. I believe I can win his full endorsement.”
Alexandra returned her attention to the view outside the window and remembered those first moments on the terrace when he approached her from the shadows. She recalled how her body had flared with heat when he touched her.
“You will need to be very cunning if you intend to manipulate that man,” Lucille said. “From what I hear, he has considerable experience with a certain type of woman, and he may not be easily manipulated.”
Alexandra looked down at her hands on her lap and felt a renewed rush of heat in her belly. “Don’t worry, Mama. I will waste no time in establishing how best to influence him.”
* * *
The following day, Alexandra’s eyes lifted at the sound of a coach pulling up in front of the house. Rising from her chair in the drawing room, she crossed to the window and looked down at the street below.
“Who is it?” Lucille asked with an anxious little gasp. “Anyone of consequence?”
Since their noteworthy entrance into London society, they’d had no shortage of afternoon callers and invitations, mostly due to the fact that Mr. Carmichael had spread news far and wide about Alexandra’s unparalleled beauty and tragic circumstances. She had become somewhat of a novelty.
“I cannot make anyone out,” she replied, “but it is an impressive vehicle with four horses and a postilion. Wait … someone is getting out.…”
Would it be Prince Randolph?
Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest.
No, it was Nicholas.
He stepped out of the coach and looked up at the front of the house.
“It is only the brother,” she casually mentioned, hiding the fact that her body was reeling with alarm, for she had lain awake all night thinking about Nicholas’s flirtatious manner and impossible good looks and had grown increasingly worried about the general impediment of his position as his brother’s gatekeeper. In the coach, she had assured her stepmother that she knew exactly how to handle him, but suddenly she was not the least bit sure of it.
“Is Randolph with him?” Lucille asked, leaping from her chair and practically tripping over the tea table in order to reach the window.
“No, I do not believe so,” Alexandra replied. “He appears to be alone. Perhaps he is conveying a message.”
She truly hoped he was, and that he would deliver it without coming inside.
They heard the door open and close below. He did not return to his coach. The butler must have let him in.
Lucille tapped Alex on the shoulder. “Quickly now, go back to your seat and try to look surprised when he is announced!”
They returned to their chairs and waited while the clock ticked sternly on the mantelpiece.
A moment later, footsteps tapped up the stairs and the butler announced their gentleman caller. With unshakable confidence, the prince strode into the room and bowed.
Alexandra and Lucille greeted him with polite courtesies.
“Your Royal Highness, what a pleasure to see you again,” Lucille said. “Please … sit down, and welcome. May I pour you some tea?”
With ragged nerves, Alexandra watched him take a seat. Today he wore a dark blue double-breasted tailcoat and fawn breeches with shiny black boots. The collar points of his clean white shirt stood high against his cheeks, and his cravat was tied immaculately at his throat. He looked undeniably handsome, and she had to force herself to look away to avoid staring, for her heart was suddenly racing like a mad monster in her chest, and she despised herself for reacting this way to him.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” he replied as he chose a spot on the sofa directly across from Alexandra. Lucille offered him tea and a selection of sweetbreads.
The usual light drawing room conversation ensued while Nicholas spoke to them about his impressions of London since his arrival and described the crossing from Petersbourg, which he declared a smooth and pleasant journey.
He was the epitome of politeness and gentlemanly behavior, and Alexandra had to remind herself a number of times that he was here to protect Randolph from ambitious social climbers like herself. She realized she must therefore straddle a fine line between her obvious attraction to this infuriating younger brother and her plans to marry the future King of Petersbourg.
“Will you and Prince Randolph attend the theater while you are visiting London?” Lucille asked, and he revealed their plans to attend a play at Covent Garden the following Tuesday.
Alex sipped her tea and wondered how easy it would be for Mr. Carmichael to obtain tickets to that performance.
“I hope you will not deem it too forward of me,” Nicholas said as he set his cup and saucer down on the table, “if I extend an invitation to you both to dine with us at St. James’s Palace this evening. Randolph is aware it is brief notice, but he would welcome your attendance if you are not previously engaged. If you do have other plans, however, he has instructed me to extend the invitation to tomorrow evening, or the evening after that.”
Lucille nodded enthusiastically. “We would be most honored to join you this evening.”
He then turned his charming gaze toward Alexandra, and her body flushed with heat. While her heart beat traitorously in her breast, she realized that securing a proposal from the future king was going to be much more complicated than she had initially imagined, for each time she locked eyes with this man she seemed to forget all about her vengeance, which had been a strong driving force in her life in recent months.
“Randolph will be most pleased.” He rose to his feet. “A coach will be sent to fetch you at eight o’clock. Following dinner, an informal musicale has been arranged. Do you enjoy Mozart, Lady Alexandra?”
She nearly stumbled at the direct question but quickly gathered her aplomb. “Very much so.”
“Excellent. Then I will look forward to seeing you both later this evening.” With that, he walked out of the drawing room.
“There, you see?” Lucille said. “Randolph
was
taken with you!”
Alexandra crossed to the window and watched Nicholas leave the house and return to his coach.