The Prince Who Loved Me (The Oxenburg Princes) (24 page)

Lady MacClinton sighed woefully. “Who knows what lies in the hearts of men?”

“Or women,” Lord MacLynd answered. “Their hearts are just as complicated and black as ours.”

—
The Black Duke
by Miss Mary Edgeworth

Two days later, Alexsey stood in the foyer with Strath, Papillon panting at their feet. As they put on their coats, a footman approached. “Pardon me, Yer Highness, bu’ Her Grace, the grand duchess, is askin’ fer ye.”

Alexsey closed his eyes, his jaw tightening.
How does she know when I’m on my way to Ackinnoull?
He wasn’t sure who was spying for her, but they were remarkably accurate and he was getting damned tired of it. “Tell Her Grace I’m on my way out for a ride with the viscount. I’ll see her when I return.”

The footman was pale, his hands shaking. “I’m sorry, Yer Highness, bu’ Her Grace ordered me na’ to take no fer an answer, an’ if’n I did—” He gulped and then whispered the words as if it might make them less powerful, “She said if I returned wit’oot ye, she’d turn me into a goat.”

Alexsey’s jaw tightened. “Did she?”

The footman nodded, his gaze wide and pleading. “Oy’ve no wish t’ be a goat.”

“I would imagine not.”

“Bloody hell!” Strath made a frustrated noise. “Your grandmother . . . I’m glad she’s not mine.”

“Most people are.” He turned to the footman. “Tell her you searched high and low and I wasn’t to be found. She won’t turn you into anything if she thinks you simply couldn’t find me.”

The footman cleared his throat. “One more thin’, Yer Highness. It seemed Her Grace was havin’ a difficult time tryin’ to breathe. She was almost panting, sort of catchin’ her breath, as it were. She looked pale, too.”

Strath instantly frowned. “That is different. Alexsey, you must go to her.”

Alexsey gave a short laugh. “Nonsense.” He looked at the footman. “Her Grace told you to say that if I balked, didn’t she?”

The footman shifted from foot to foot, his expression one of sheer misery.

“And she paid you a few pounds, too, I’ll wager.”

The footman couldn’t have looked more miserable. “Five, Yer Highness.”

“I thought so. She can wait, then. I’ve an errand to run.”
And a woman to see, one I’ve been thinking about for two days and nights now.

Strath shook his head. “Alexsey, as much as it pains me to say this, you should go to your grandmother. She’s old. What if this once she really is ill? You would never forgive yourself.”

Bloody hell.
Is everyone trying to keep me from Bronwyn?
But one look at the genuine concern on the viscount’s face made Alexsey sigh. “Damn it.” He swallowed the impulse to kick at the stairs to vent his frustration. “Fine. You go on ahead; I’ll catch up soon.”

Strath nodded unhappily. “That’s the second time in two days this has happened. I wonder what she is up to?”

“I wonder, indeed.” But Alexsey knew. He waved off the footman, who offered to take his coat. “I’ll keep the damn thing on, for I’m not staying long.” He snapped a look at Papillon and gestured to the viscount. “Go with Strath.”

Papillon sat.

Strath shook his head. “Even the dog spurns me. I feel the need for a strong glass of spirits and it’s early morning yet.”

Alexsey snapped his fingers again. “Go!”

Head hanging, Papillon went to stand with Strath.

“I’m always a second choice.” Strath tugged on his gloves. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I would wait for you, but if my uncle sees me loitering about with nothing to do, I’ll never leave the castle. He’s taken to talking about the improvements he’d like made to this wretched castle, and I can’t bear another four-hour conversation about the drainage issues caused by the slope of the roof on the south side.”

Alexsey nodded. “My apologies, Strath. I will see you shortly.” With that, he stalked off.

Since his tryst with Bronwyn in the woods two days ago, he’d been trying his damnedest to see her again, but fate and, he suspected, his grandmother were against him.

He reached the landing and followed the footman down the wing toward his grandmother’s suite. Tata Natasha had been in rare form these last two days. The first day, while he’d still been muddled from his tryst with Bronwyn, his grandmother had pressed him into service for what was supposed to be a quick trip to a nearby village to purchase some lace.

What Tata Natasha had failed to tell him was that she’d invited Miss Carolina Acheson to join them. A wealthy debutante used to being made much of, Miss Acheson was none too pleased when Alexsey—recognizing Tata Natasha’s heavy-handed attempts at matchmaking—summarily ignored her. The young lady wasn’t shy about letting her feelings be known, and the entire trip quickly became a pain in the ass.

Worse, they found neither the lace nor the village his grandmother had described, and the snooty Miss Acheson made certain they were all aware that she was tired, hungry, and cold. Her temper didn’t fare any better when a heavy rain struck on the way home and the carriage ended up bogged down on a narrow lane, two of their four wheels sunk axle deep in mud.

After two solid hours of pushing and pulling, Alexsey and the groom had managed to get the carriage free, but it had been well after dark when they’d pulled into the lane that led to Tulloch Castle, far too late to visit Bronwyn. Adding to his already foul mood, Miss Acheson had succumbed to tears long before they reached the castle, and Tata had spoken quite sharply to her in lieu of a good-bye, leaving him to placate the nearly hysterical woman while a footman ran to fetch her doting mama.

By the time all was said and done, all Alexsey had wanted was a hot bath and to never see his grandmother—or Miss Acheson—again.

The next day had dawned, and with it his growing desire to see Bronwyn. He’d decided to join the hunting party with Strath and break off from the rest and ride to Ackinnoull.

He never made it. He’d barely sat down for breakfast when the first summons from his grandmother had come. A giggly miss named Lady Jane, who Alexsey had already decided had the intelligence of a dead squirrel, had informed him that his grandmother was ill and needed him immediately.

He’d thought it might be a ploy, but he was honor-bound to go see the old woman. He’d made his excuses to the others in the breakfast room and left for his grandmother’s, only to discover Lady Jane at his elbow, having been ordered to escort him like some sort of frill-bedecked guard with an annoying tendency to hang upon his arm as they walked.

When he’d arrived in Tata Natasha’s suite, he’d discovered her sitting up in bed looking regal and well, and it quickly became apparent that she was only sick of his independence. He’d politely made his inquiries after her health, had pretended sympathy when she’d complained of vague aches and pains that were keeping her in bed. To free himself from her for the rest of the day, he’d agreed to fetch her a bottle of “Olympian Dew” and something called “Gorland’s Lotion,” both of which she’d vowed she must have or she couldn’t rise from her bed.

Alexsey had intended on handing her task off to a footman, only to be circumvented when his grandmother had insisted that Lady Jane accompany him. Never one to mince words, Tata Natasha let Alexsey know that the giggly girl was the daughter of a wealthy earl, and that any insult could be cause for an international incident.

It was a ridiculous assertion, but Tata had said it in front of the blasted wench, who hadn’t had the sense to be insulted when she should have. Instead, the woman had looked so thrilled at the prospect of merely riding in the carriage with him that Alexsey, his sympathy stirred, had agreed to the trip, vowing to make it as short as possible.

Thus, instead of visiting Ackinnoull as he’d wished, he’d found himself dashing off a note to be delivered to Bronwyn before driving to the nearest town to fetch Tata’s potions, a prattling Lady Jane at his side. He’d discovered in short succession that Lady Jane loved fashion, the color blue, French braids, pink lemonade, small dogs, and bonnets almost as much as she hated politics, books, opera music, and museums. He’d never been so bored in all his life.

Though he’d done his best to discourage Lady Jane’s bubbly belief that she was a witty conversationalist, it had been to no avail. She’d talked from the second they’d climbed into the carriage to the second he took his leave of her in the foyer. She’d even talked as he’d walked away, noting her love of clocks.

Even more frustrating than Lady Jane’s prattle was the massive storm that had gathered while he’d been on his mission. It broke a few moments after his return, with thunder so strong that the guests were agog to note how they could feel it even when deep inside the castle walls. Risking a horse in such weather was pure folly, so his visit to Ackinnoull had to be postponed yet again. Thus, another opportunity to visit Bronwyn was lost. As the storm crashed over the castle, he wondered what Bronwyn was thinking. He could only hope she didn’t believe his absence was in any way connected to the consummation of their relationship.

So this morning, in a supreme effort, he’d decided to leave the castle before Tata Natasha was awake. He and Strath had arisen at an ungodly hour before the sun was even up. Sadly, it appeared he’d underestimated her conniving.

He stalked grimly through the hallways. He would not be put off another day.
She knows I wish to see Bronwyn, though I don’t know how. That’s the only explanation for these ceaseless tasks.

When he reached her suite, he dismissed the footman and knocked on the great oaken door. A faint call to enter followed.

Tata was sitting up in her bed, dressed in an elaborate bed coat trimmed with bows and frills, a lacy cap perched atop her perfectly coiffed curls. On the bed before her sat a tray; her maid was just pouring the tea.

“Humph. There you are.” Tata flashed a look at the maid. “Leave. I will speak with my grandson now.”

The maid curtsied and, taking the covers from the plates, left.

As soon as the door closed, Tata said, “It took you long enough to come.”

“I came the second I was informed you wished to see me.”

Tata’s brows rose.

“Correction, I came the second I heard you might be dying, even though I didn’t believe it in the least.”

A smug expression rested on her face. “I thought that might do it.”

“You’ll cry wolf one time too many and—”

“You won’t come? Please. You have your father’s quixotic propensities. All of his sons do. You can’t help yourself.”

He gritted his teeth. “What do you want, Tata?”

“Where were you when the footman delivered my message?“

“In the foyer. In another two minutes, I’d have made good my escape.”

Her brows rose. “Escape? It’s come to that, has it?”

“
Da
. Again, what do you want, Tata?”

She took a sip of tea. “First, I seem to have lost my dog. Again.”

“Papillon is with Strath, who should be riding the south trail by now.”

“She gets filthy when you take her to the fields.”

He shrugged. “She needs exercise.”

Tata didn’t look happy. “Bring her back when you return, but have her washed first.”

“I shall. Now, what hugely important duties do you have for me today? Not more Olympian Dew or Gorland’s Lotion, I hope? I purchased all they had at the village apothecary’s yesterday.”

“No, no. I have plenty now.” She pressed a hand to her heart and sighed. “It has been a great help already.”

“Indeed. Last night at dinner I sat beside Miss MacInvers, who has some experience with medicines as her mother is quite elderly. I asked her what she thought of your two potions.”

Tata Natasha dropped her hand from her chest, her gaze suddenly evasive.

“She said she preferred Olympian Dew, as it made her skin the softest, while Gorland’s was better for those with freckles.”

Tata took a hurried bite of ham.

“You told me you needed those.
Needed
them, Tata.”

She swallowed. “I do need them.”

“You led me to believe your health was involved, that they were medicinal. They are not.”

“At my age, beauty lotion
is
medicinal,” she replied crossly.

He sighed. “Tata, for the last two days, you’ve kept me busy running errands. I’ve allowed it, but not today. Today, I will do as
I
wish to.”

“And what is it that you wish to do that’s so important?”

And there it is.
“As I said, I’ll return Papillon to you this evening.”

“Pah! Keep the dog. She prefers you, anyway.” She poured herself some tea and then regarded him over the rim of her cup, her dark eyes narrowed. “You are making a mistake, you know.”

He’d turned toward the door, but at this, he sighed and turned back.

She clacked her cup down on the saucer. “I am old, not stupid. I know what you’re doing, and I worry. Of all your brothers, you are the most restless.”

“Me? What of Grisha? He hasn’t been in Oxenburg more than three days in a row for the last four years.”

“He’s a soldier-prince. He must train the army.”

“Even when the army is home, he finds reasons to stay gone. Don’t tell me Papa and Mama have not mentioned it; I know they have.”