Princess Charming (6 page)

After planting a swift kiss on Maura’s cheek, Katharine spun around and hurried off, leaving Maura shaking her head in dismay and fond exasperation. Yet she should be accustomed to Kate’s outrageous schemes by now and knew they were usually well-meant.

The fiery, passionate Wilde cousins had always proudly lived up to their name, rousing the secret envy of the ton with their adventures and exploits and derring-do. No doubt their recklessness came from being raised primarily by their uncle, Lord Cornelius Wilde, a scholarly bachelor who was much happier with his nose buried in a Greek tome than when trying to discipline his unruly nieces and nephews.

Reportedly the cousins’ vivacious, pleasure-loving parents had generated even more tales of scandal and passion during their day. The elder Wildes had lived enchanted lives, ruling the lavish, wealthy world of the British aristocracy until their ship sank crossing the Channel from France during a lull in international hostilities. The tragedy had combined the two separate branches of the noble Wilde family—the Marquises of Beaufort and the Earls of Traherne. The five orphans had moved in together under the nominal supervision of Lord Cornelius.

As they grew to adulthood, the cousins often skirted the edge of scandal, even the two girls. Lady Katharine and Lady Skye, however, were partially sheltered by rank and fortune and thus allowed much more license than other unattached young ladies. Certainly more license than plain Miss Maura Collyer, whose commoner father had died under a cloud of dishonor.

Maura couldn’t help but envy the Wildes for their freedom.
She
had to deal with a stepmother who slavishly followed the stringent rules of the
Beau Monde
.

When her borrowed carriage finally was announced, Maura gladly made her escape from the ball, although she was not eager to return to her temporary lodgings. While in London, she stayed with her stepmother on Clarges Street, in the same home that her mother had lovingly presided over so many years ago.

She hoped she wouldn’t encounter Priscilla tonight. There had always been discord in their relationship, beginning with their first encounter. Maura believed Priscilla had wed Noah Collyer mainly for his fortune, and Priscilla deplored her lack of ladylike manners and thought her a complete hoyden. Shipping Maura off to boarding school was intended to cure her of her hellion ways, as well as reduce the competition with her new young stepsisters for her doting father’s affections.

After Noah’s passing, Priscilla had distanced herself from Maura as much as possible, except to argue frequently about finances. Pris maintained that because of the scandal, her widow’s portion wasn’t nearly large enough to launch her daughters into society, and that she should receive a much larger income from the farm and breeding stables to compensate for the additional obstacles they faced.

“Seasons are enormously expensive, you know,” Priscilla had complained countless times. “But the notoriety staining our name makes it immeasurably more difficult to find suitable husbands for your stepsisters. It is only right that you help us out, Maura.”

Priscilla’s chief goal at present was to marry off her two daughters, Hannah and Lucy. Their comeouts had been postponed while they were in mourning, but more critically, the ignominy that haunted Noah Collyer’s death had severely damaged their chances of making good matches.

Maura did feel a responsibility to help her stepsisters. They were sweet girls and she loved them both, even if they were unrelated by blood and shared few interests with her. But their London Seasons ought not to have come at so exorbitant a price as her beloved stallion.

She’d had a major row with Priscilla over her deceit three weeks ago. Pris claimed she had sold Emperor not simply for the funds, but to cultivate Lord Deering’s much-needed good graces. Given that he had made the accusations of cheating against Noah Collyer in the first place, Priscilla was convinced that Deering could mitigate the scandal if he chose, perhaps even erase the blot from their family name entirely. And with his aristocratic connections and the outsized power he wielded in society, the viscount’s active support could surely smooth the path for her daughters’ matrimonial prospects.

In truth, Pris did sincerely care about her daughters’ welfare and would go to great lengths to see them properly married, including conspiring to appropriate
a celebrated racing stallion from the Collyer Stud and win Deering’s favor.

Maura would never forgive her stepmother’s betrayal, however. She stood to lose the thing she loved most in the world. Emperor was like her own child, as well as friend and pet.

After Priscilla’s defection, Maura considered her horse and her steward her only close family, other than her dear friends Katharine and Skye, who had stood by her during those horrible, dark days of grief and scandal. If not for them, she would have had to fight the world alone for the past two years. She was immensely grateful, of course, but if Kate had some reckless matchmaking scheme in mind …

Well, Maura thought as she was handed into the waiting carriage, she had no time for such foolish distractions.

It might take an immense amount of willpower, but she intended to forget the stunning kiss Lord Beaufort had given her. She was determined not to be sidetracked by a seductive marquis or his well-meaning sister from her mission to rescue her precious stallion.

To Ash’s surprise
, he did not have to search at any length for his sister. Katharine found him shortly after he returned to the ballroom.

“I cannot believe you let Maura leave,” was her preemptive comment. “You should have stopped her.”

Ash arched an eyebrow. Kate was taking
him
to task for her friend’s abrupt departure? “And just why should I have been responsible for stopping her?”

“Because someone has to save her from that villain, Lord Deering, of course. At the very least you could have asked Maura to stand up with you for a set of dances, so everyone could see that she is under our family’s protection.”

His response was interrupted when one of Katharine’s many beaus approached to claim her for the next set. Ash forestalled the gentleman with an upraised hand, then caught Kate’s arm and bent to murmur in her ear. “We have some serious issues to discuss when your ball is over, minx.”

While her partner waited politely at a distance, she
glanced boldly up at Ash. “Indeed, we do, dearest brother. In fact, I mean to call a meeting of the entire family tonight.”

The determined gleam in her green eyes sparked Ash’s suspicions even more than her announcement about an impromptu family gathering. “Why?”

“Because we have a matter of great importance to consider—something that could affect all of us. We should meet in the library. I suspect Uncle Cornelius has already taken refuge there, given that I’ve seen nothing of him since the receiving line disbanded.”

She started to break away, but Ash tightened his hold. “You fabricated your need for this ball, didn’t you, love?”

“Only slightly,” Katharine admitted with no remorse whatsoever.

Annoyance speared through him. Although he considered balls the most boring of entertainments, he had spared no expense for Katharine’s grand evening. He would do anything for his family. Yet he disliked being duped, even by his endearing spitfire of a sister.

“Did you ever intend to search for a husband as you claimed?” Ash demanded.

Katharine smiled sweetly. “Well, yes, some day I will. Just not at this precise moment. I am more concerned about rescuing Maura. She is far too proud to ask for help, and arranging a ball was the best I could do on short notice.”

His audibly muttered oath held irritation but also a telltale hint of exasperated amusement.

Surprisingly, though, Kate’s expression turned intent to the point of graveness. “You
must
help her, Ash.”

He raised a hand. “Oh, no, sweetheart, you won’t fish me into your intrigues. I’ve done my duty by hosting your damned ball.”

“But I need you.
Maura
needs you. You cannot say no until you hear me out.
Please
.…”

Just then the music began anew, and Katharine turned away to join her partner while calling over her shoulder, “I will explain everything later in the library, Ash, I promise.”

“Yes, you will, dear sister,” he said under his breath as his troublesome youngest sibling fled his proximity for the relative safety of the ballroom floor.

Admittedly, Ash’s curiosity was piqued, however.

At the conclusion of the ball, when the last of the carriages had rumbled away from his Grosvenor Square mansion, and his household staff had begun clearing the remnants of the late supper and extinguishing the flames in the crystal chandeliers overhead, Ash escorted a cheerfully secretive Katharine to the library.

It was three o’clock in the morning, and not surprisingly, they found their Uncle Cornelius in his favorite haunt, slumped in a stuffed-leather armchair near the hearth fire, sound asleep and snoring softly, his spectacles sliding down his nose. The elderly gentleman loathed social gatherings, especially balls, and always hid in the library as soon as he could politely escape.

The other Wilde family members were waiting with various degrees of anticipation. Skye, with her deep blue eyes and pale gold hair, looked bright and fresh as a rose, as if she hadn’t just spent the entire night wearing out her dancing slippers.

Her elder brother Quinn, the Earl of Traherne, was also blue-eyed and fair-haired, but of a darker gold hue. Quinn’s appearance of a bored, jaded aristocrat was highly deceptive, since in addition to being the most adventurous of the five cousins, he had the sharpest mind and a wicked wit that could slice opponents to ribbons.

Currently Quinn lounged in an armchair, looking slightly amused but willing to tolerate a family gathering for curiosity’s sake, if nothing else.

Lord Jack Wilde, Ash’s raven-haired first cousin and adopted brother—who was not quite thirty years of age—was sprawled irreverently on the sofa, his eyes closed.

Without opening his eyes, Jack spoke upon their entrance. “Do edify us, Kate. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait till morning? You are interfering with my beauty sleep.”

She laughed lightly. “Pardon me for disturbing your rest, but we have a crucial situation at hand.”

Bestirring himself to sit up, Jack swung his long legs over the edge of the sofa. “Very well, but pray, make it fast. I have a curricle race early tomorrow.… In less than five hours, in fact.”

With a glance at the sleeping Lord Cornelius, Katharine moved over to the large library table where they’d held many a Wilde family conference in the years since their parents’ tragic demise. Ash sat at one end, at the head of the table, Quinn at the other, with Kate and Skye between them. Jack joined the council but declined a chair, instead resting one hip on the tabletop itself, facing Katharine.

All the Wilde cousins regularly came to London each Season, but they were not often together as a family anymore. Katharine still resided with Ash and their Uncle Cornelius, either at the London house in Grosvenor Square or the magnificent Beaufort family seat in Kent. Jack had his own house nearby in town, since as a bachelor he’d wanted his own abode so he could come and go as he pleased. And Quinn and Skye resided together at the Traherne mansion in Berkeley Square when they weren’t at their palatial country manor in Kent.

Both noble estates were situated some forty miles east of London, within an easy drive of each other. Being raised in the same district had fostered a tight-knit kinship that was unusual among distant cousins, even before their households had been combined under Lord Cornelius’s guardianship.

“So what is afoot?” Ash asked, breaking the silence.

Katharine clasped her fingers together, looking uncharacteristically hesitant all of a sudden. “You may be wondering why I called you together.…”

Quinn gave a chuckle. “Out with it, love. You are trying our patience.”

“Very well. I suppose I should start by reminding you of our family lore. You know that we Wildes only marry for love—”

“What does it matter, why we marry?” Jack interrupted.

Katharine frowned at him. “I will tell you if you give me the chance.”

Guessing where the conversation was headed, Ash hid a wince. In the past dozen years, Kate’s romantic
notions had been a source of both amusement and discomfort for the family, particularly him, since he was often the target of her matchmaking. But he’d learned to deflect her schemes, so he was prepared to indulge her now.

Clearing her throat, she continued. “According to family legend, we Wildes never lose our hearts readily, but when we find our one true mate, we love passionately and for life. Quite a number of our ancestors were celebrated lovers, including all of our parents. But none of
us
has found true love yet.”

Ash saw her glance around the table as if expecting an objection, but no one disputed her claim. Thus far, none of the current generation of Wildes had been struck by love, despite having ample advantages and multiple opportunities.