Rejar (14 page)

“Lilac, wait!”

That was the Prince’s voice. And highly agitated, too. Agatha rose from her chair to see what was afoot.

“I do not want to speak to you; I do not want to hear you; and I do not want to see you ever again!”

Agatha’s cap-covered head peeked around the doorway. Lilac was balanced halfway up the stairs, glaring angrily down at the Prince. The Prince placed one booted foot on the steps.

Lilac glowered at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Agatha noted that the Prince stopped but at the same time left his foot exactly where it was. A good, strong character; she approved of that in a man.

Rejar studied Lilac reflectively. He was somewhat embarrassed; Familiars did not tend to fall into a dead sleep in the presence of females they wished to consort with. It was not considered a romantic plus. He knew he must make every attempt to appease her. “Lilac, I do apologize for this. I have never before—”

There was no sense in trying to explain that part.

He gazed up at her beseechingly. “I did not know Jackie would listen to me so ... exactingly.”

His change of subject did not escape her. Just how many times would he find himself in similar intimate situations with women? Zillions, by the look of him. She was incensed! “Do you have any idea how many times we circled that wretched park?” She stamped her foot to emphasize his faux pas.

Rejar took a deep breath. “I can imagine.”

“It was awful! That—that man you call a servant, he—he ignored me!”

“I am sorr—”

“Just refused to listen to me!” Lilac was venting spleen now—six hours of it.

“I know how—”

“And you”—she pointed the finger of outrage at him—”you, cozy as a kitten, not caring one fig how I felt about it!”

Cozy as a kitten? Rejar smiled to himself. Well, he was at that. “Please.” he held out his hand to her, giving her his most winning expression. “Forgive me?”

To her dismay, Lilac discovered she was not immune to his beguiling entreaty. Which made her all the angrier. The scapegrace. Well, he could have his own medicine back! She smiled sweetly at him.

Rejar smiled back, his other foot coming onto the second step.

Before he could take another step, she dropped the fake smile. “I don’t think I shall.” She showed him her back and flounced up the stairs.

Rejar stood there, dazed at the sudden about-face.

Stunned, he watched her strut up the stairs, dismissing him completely.

Women never did that to him.

Who did she think she was dealing with? He was a son of Krue! How dare she treat him in such a cavalier fashion! If she thought—

“Your Highness, might I have a word with you?”

Irritated, Rejar spun around to gaze down at Lady Whumples. The elderly matron stood firmly planted in the hallway below, reminding him of several grumpy Guild members he had faced in the past. A stem expression crossed her weathered features and although she had phrased it as a question, its tenor was command. What now?

When the old woman saw she had gained his full attention, she pivoted about, marching directly into the parlor.

He had no choice but to follow her; as his elder she was deserving of his respect. She stopped in front of the fireplace and faced him.

“Close those doors behind you, young man.”

Rejar did as she bid, sliding the doors shut with a snap of his wrist.

“Now you will tell me what you have been doing with my niece till this ungodly hour!”

Rejar watched her before he spoke, not entirely sure what she meant by her inquiry. “Doing? I told you my intentions earlier, Lady Whumples; I took Lilac for a ride in your Hyde Park.”

“Come, come, my boy, no one rides in the park at this hour. What were you about?” The old woman suddenly picked up a folded fan from the side table, wielding it like a small weapon.

Speechless, Rejar could only stand there and watch as she rapped him smartly on the shoulder.

“Tell me, I say!”

Rejar gaped at her.

He had no idea what she was seeking. Had he done something to offend their customs? “It was as I say—I took her to the park.”

“Then why are you returned so late? Was there a problem with the coach? Why was my niece so upset?”

A dull flush of bronze highlighted his cheekbones. “I fell asleep,” he admitted, reluctantly. If his brother ever found out about this, there would be no end to the teasing.

It was Lady Agatha’s turn to gape. “You—you fell asleep?”

A muscle ticked along his strong jaw. “Yes,” he gritted out.

Agatha hid her grin behind the fan.

“It was ... an unfortunate occurrence which I am at a loss to explain.”

“Perhaps my niece bores you, your Highness?” she shrewdly prodded.

Rejar emphatically shook his head. “On the contrary, she captivates me.”

Excellent, Agatha thought. All she had to do now was find a way to keep it going. “You realize Lilac is very put out with you.”

“I believe so.” Rejar exhaled, purposely putting a forlorn expression on his face. He did not know why, but he sensed the old woman might be willing to aid him in the hunt.

“Show some spirit, boy!” She whacked him with the fan again. “Are you prepared to give up?”

Rejar looked down at her, his white teeth glinting in a steady smile.

“I didn’t think so. You have your work cut out for you; presently, she won’t be very accommodating toward you.”

“I can overcome such feelings.” His bold statement held all of the cockiness years of successful dealings with women had brought to him.

In the past. Lilac had proven most resistant to any unfortunate young blood who came to call. The Prince’s positive attitude gave Agatha cause to examine him more closely through her pince-nez. Demme, but the buck was an out and outer.

“I do believe you can, your Highness.” She met his eyes. “My niece has often expressed a desire to view Week’s Mechanical Museum in Haymarket. I think tomorrow would be a good day for such an outing for the two of us. If you should happen to be there the same time—say, two o’clock—well, t’would be fate, wouldn’t it?”

Rejar grinned; she was going to help him. “It would indeed, madam.”

Lady Agatha grinned back.

Neither suspected that when it came to Lilac Devere they each had very different things in mind.

* * *

He returned to her room within the hour.

Lilac was already in her night garment, sitting on the edge of her bed staring out into space.

She is probably thinking of new ways to torment me, he acknowledged ruefully.

He jumped onto the bed beside her.

“Rejar! Have you come to comfort me? What a good cat you are!” Lilac petted his head, scratching behind his left ear.

Purring, Rejar stretched towards her, rubbing his face along her jawline in a sweet feline caress.

Won over, she kissed the top of his head. “I won’t think about him anymore.” She spoke to the cat as if he knew exactly what was on her mind.

Which he did.

“Come to bed now.” Lilac scooted under the covers.

Rejar padded over to her, lying against her exactly the way she liked. Lilac snuggled her face into the soft fur and instantly fell asleep.

If sometime during the night she had a crazy dream that it wasn’t fur she rested against but the naked skin of a male chest, she was able to dismiss the nonsense from her mind in the clear light of day.

However, the exotic cinnamon-bayberry scent, which seemed to be all over her person, truly puzzled her.

Chapter Seven

The skin on the back of her neck prickled.

No, it must be her imagination. They had just walked into Week’s Mechanical Museum, an outing Lilac had been looking forward to for some time.

It was quite crowded that day. Several of the ton had apparently had the same idea as her aunt. There was one exhibit in particular which—

There it was again ...

That odd feeling on the back of her neck.

Lilac looked over her right shoulder. Her green eyes momentarily widened, then took on the light of fury. “I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed in an angry undertone.

“What is it, my dear?” Auntie said distractedly; she was already peering at the first exhibit through her lorgnette.

“It’s that awful Prince—he’s here! Of all the rotten luck!”

“Prince Azov is here?” Auntie dropped her lorgnette, whipping around to survey the room. “Why, yes, there he is.” Lilac stood helplessly by, watching as her aunt waved her fan in the Prince’s direction. “Prince Azov, over here!”

“Why did you do that?” Lilac hissed.

“Don’t be foolish, my dear; he is a friend of ours.”

“Since when?” Auntie wasn’t listening to her, she was too busy attracting the Prince’s attention. Blast it!

“Lady Agatha, Lilac.” Rejar cordially greeted the two women; one looked supremely happy to see him, while the other looked supremely furious. Purposely, he let his eyes gleam with the flash of victory simply to annoy Lilac. A roguish smile spread across his face when she promptly turned her back on him. He so loved to play with her.

“Why, Prince Azov, what a nice coincidence.” Agatha winked conspiratorially at him. “Do join us as we tour the museum.”

Dismayed, Lilac spun back around. “Auntie!”

“Thank you. Lady Agatha.” Rejar watched Lilac from under heavily lashed eyes; it appeared his blue-and-gold regard was unnerving her. “I believe I shall do just that.”

“Excellent! We’ve just begun.” Agatha pointed out the first exhibit. “Now this, I believe, is a reenactment of the Battle of Alexandria.”

Rejar knew a museum was a house of artifacts. The concept did not greatly excite him. He meant to briefly glance at the scene, then turn his full attention onto Lilac, but what he saw made him look twice.

Tiny metal soldiers were moving about a small battlefield!

This was sorcery!

He quickly looked around, viewing the room for the possible culprit. No one appeared suspicious. He examined the walls—nothing there except some old metal swords and a few banners. Where was the source? Surely, this was the mark of a powerful wizard! Instinctively, he edged closer to the two women to protect them.

“Why do they move?” On guard, he spoke in a low voice behind Lady Agatha. “Are they spellbound?”

Agatha tittered. “How amusing, your Highness. One would almost think so, they look so lifelike.”

Rejar was captivated by the scene before him; he curiously watched as the tiny warriors marched about the mock battlefield. The universe he came from was based on the Laws of Magic, but the mechanical men completely mystified him. “I do not understand this,” he murmured abstractedly.

“Quelle surprise.” Lilac dripped sarcasm.

At her condescending tone, Rejar shifted his sights from the strange exhibit to return her contemptuous look with one that plainly said, I am not amused.

I’m trembling, her answering look said. She batted her eyelashes at him, pasting a superior little smile on her face.

He quirked his eyebrow, this expression saying, I will be tolerant for now, but there will come a time...

So, the tone was set for the rest of the tour.

Agatha was delighted; Rejar was baffled by the moving figures, patiently tolerant of Lilac’s mood, and Lilac was suffering the Prince’s presence, but not in silence. She made it a point to toss verbal insults his Highness’s way whenever the opportunity presented itself. This occurred often, since, as far as she was concerned, the Prince made a wonderful fool.

In fact, Lilac was having such a good time making mincemeat out of the Prince, she almost didn’t mind his company.

Almost.

The only thing that worried her the teensiest bit was that every time she lambasted him with one of her jibes, he gave her the smile.

The one that said, You may play all you like but I will win the game.

The one that said, We shall see.

She absolutely hated that smile.

“Prince Azov, I was just thinking of you! What a coincidence!” The three of them turned at the wispy sound of a woman’s voice directly behind them. By her gasps for breath, it sounded as if she had run a race to catch up with them.

Rejar stared down into the covetous face of Lady Harcorte and felt annoyance begin to overshadow his pleasant mood. This was a complication he did not need. “Lady Harcorte,” he cooly replied.

“Here to see our famous museum? And with our lovely Lilac Devere.” Leona Harcorte gave Lilac a brilliant smile, completely winning the younger woman over. Agatha, being older and wiser in the ways of the world, stuck her Whumples nose in the air and sniffed haughtily.

“Agatha.” Leona purposely used the grand dame’s first name to irritate her. “You do look marvelous today—for your age.”

Agatha, never one to be outdone, immediately retorted, “I was just thinking the same of you, Leona.”

Only the slight blink of Lady Harcorte’s right eye let Agatha know she had hit her mark. It was well known that the Cyprian was impossibly vain and consumed with the fear of loosing her looks. Although, Agatha grudgingly admitted to herself, the woman had no real concerns in that area—she was truly a beauty. A hungry beauty.

Agatha shrewdly edged herself between Rejar and Leona, placing a proprietary hand on the Prince’s arm. “Come, your Highness, let us view this exhibit.” She wisely left Lilac and Lady Harcorte to follow.

Leona resigned herself to enjoying the view. She eyed Rejar’s backside appreciatively. “He is really the most stunning man.” Lady Harcorte spoke to Lilac as if they were the best of friends sharing confidences.

Lilac had no idea what Lady Harcorte found so interesting. She raised an eyebrow, carefully examining what Leona appeared to be examining. Mmm. It was rather nicely shaped. She cocked her head to one side—firm-looking yet round and tight. “You really think so?”

“Oh, yes. Let me give you a clue, my darling; the more he reveals, the better he gets.”

The meaning behind Lady Harcorte’s scandalous words registered abruptly. Lilac’s face flamed. “You don’t mean—”

“Of course I do. He’s quite gorgeous in a bathtub, nearly took my breath away. We met at Byron’s country estate; need I say more?”