A sexy, sparkling love story wrapped around a mystery from bestselling and award-winning historical romance author Patrica Grasso…
“A Cinderella story that is light and fast-paced and impossible to put down. The dialogue is sharp, funny…the heroine has style and spunk, the hero is to die for.”
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Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Life taught her to fend for herself.
The second daughter of an impoverished, alcoholic earl, Samantha Douglas was forced to cope with a physical impairment caused by a childhood accident. Certain that her heart’s desire—a husband and children of her own—is forever out of reach, Samantha keeps bitterness at bay and manages to retain her optimism.
Life taught him to be bitter.
Prince Rudolf Kazanov has fled his homeland to protect his English mother and young daughter. Accustomed to society’s shallow beauties, Samantha’s spirit and courage draw the prince to her side from the moment they meet. Prince Rudolf recognizes Samantha’s rare beauty that emanates from the heart.
Fate throws them together, and passion brings them closer. Will these lovers heal each other’s pain? Or will the prince’s enemies keep them from fulfilling a love neither thought possible?
5-star praise for To Charm A Prince:
“…wonderful…well written…great plot, a little bit of magic, intrigue, humor…”
“…one of the best books I’ve read this year! Highly entertaining…Prince Rudolf is a treasure…”
an excerpt from
To Charm a Prince
by Patricia Grasso
Copyright © 2014 by Patricia Grasso and published here with her permission
Prologue
London, Summer 1812
This damned limp ruins my appearance.
Eighteen-year-old Samantha Douglas watched herself in the cheval glass as she crossed the bedchamber. Her blue silk gown matched her eyes, and her aunt’s maid had dressed her ebony hair in an upswept fashion.
Samantha decided that she had never looked so pretty. No one would ever guess from her appearance that she hadn’t led a pampered life as a member of the Quality. She felt like a princess . . . until she walked.
Why was I the one run over by the carriage?Why couldn’t it have been—?
Samantha banished that uncharitable thought. She could never wish what happened to her on anyone else.
Turning away from the mirror, Samantha tried to calm her nerves by focusing on her bedchamber. This one chamber was larger than the old cottage. She’d only been in residence at the Duke of Inverary’s for two weeks and was still unused to the opulence. She could hardly believe her deceased parents and her aunt had lived almost their entire lives with this luxury.
“Are you ready to meet society?”
Samantha turned at the sound of her younger sister’s voice. “I’m not going to the ball.”
“Are you ill?” Victoria hurried across the chamber.
“My limp prevents me from walking gracefully, never mind dancing,” Samantha said, her expression glum.
Hopping Giles . . . Hopping Giles . . . Hopping Giles.
Samantha recalled the jeering name reserved for cripples that was hurled at her since the carriage accident. Like an old friend, heartache for being different swept through her. The little girl who limped was always chosen last for games with other children. There was no reason to think the young woman who limped would be anything other than a wallflower.
“No gentleman will ask a pathetic cripple to dance,” Samantha said, unable to mask the catch of emotion in her voice.
“A slight limp does not make you a cripple,” Victoria argued. “We have more to worry about than your limp. If anyone discovers we’re frauds, we’ll never find husbands.”
“We are not frauds,” called Angelica, the oldest Douglas sister, walking into the bedchamber. “Father was the Earl of Melrose, and since his passing, I am the Countess of Melrose.”
“Father lost the Douglas fortune,” Victoria reminded her.
“He didn’t lose it,” Angelica corrected her. “Charles Emerson swindled him out of it.”
“We have nothing to recommend us but our wits and the Duke of Inverary’s generosity,” Samantha said. “We are pretending to be wealthy.”
Angelica waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Everyone pretends to have more than they do.”
“Aunt Roxie said you’re going to marry the marquess and become a duchess when the duke dies.” Victoria sighed. “I wonder whom Samantha and I will marry.”
“I’m not going tonight,” Samantha said.
“Get Aunt Roxie,” Angelica ordered Victoria. Then she turned to Samantha. “Why don’t you want to go? You look beautiful. Think how much fun our first ball will be.”
Samantha leveled a skeptical look on her. “All my life I’ve listened to children calling me Hopping Giles,” she said, unable to keep the raw pain out of her voice. “I couldn’t bear for society to whisper behind their hands about me. What gentleman will ask a cripple to dance?”
“Sister, do not let a simple limitation ruin your life.”
“That’s so easy for you to say,” Samantha replied. “No one ever had a cruel word for you. You’re beautiful, talented, and intelligent. The Marquess of Argyll adores you.”
“You have gifts, too,” Angelica said, touching her sister’s shoulder. “You are exceptionally lovely and the kindest and most charitable lady I know.”
“Gentlemen do not value kindness and charity,” Samantha told her. “Gentlemen prefer beauty and talent and intelligence.” When her sister arched a brow at her, Samantha gave her a grudging smile. “All right, gentlemen do not value intelligence in a woman so much as her beauty and talent.”
The door crashed open. Auburn-haired and voluptuous, Aunt Roxie marched into the bedchamber. “What is the problem?”
“I told you,” Victoria said. “Samantha isn’t going to the ball. She—”
Aunt Roxie glared at her youngest niece, and then looked at Samantha. “Don’t sit down,” she ordered.
Samantha bolted to attention. “Why can’t I sit?”
“Your gown will wrinkle.”
“I am not attending the ball,” Samantha insisted, her expression mulish.
“What has changed your mind?” Aunt Roxie asked.
“Charles Emerson ran me over with his carriage,” Samantha said. “Should I and my deformed leg now attend a ball at his house?”
“That unfortunate accident happened long ago,” Aunt Roxie said. “He never intended to hurt you.”
“Accident or no, Emerson will pay for what he has done to the Douglases,” Angelica spoke up.
“Darling, you must put aside this ridiculous notion of being inferior,” Aunt Roxie said, ignoring her oldest niece. “You are not merely a limp. Don’t you want to meet a suitable gentleman and marry?”
“Find me a man who won’t mind that his bride is deformed,” Samantha said, “and I’ll marry him tomorrow.”
“You are not deformed,” Aunt Roxie insisted, her frustration apparent. “I have spent the inheritances from my three late husbands keeping you girls alive, and now the Duke of Inverary has opened his home to us. Both His Grace and I intend to secure advantageous marriages for each of you. Is this attitude of yours a poultice to my old age?”
“You are not old,” Samantha told her aunt, “and I do appreciate your sacrifice and His Grace’s generosity. Neither of you understands how daunting a task it is for me to go into society. I have none of Angelica’s blond beauty or Victoria’s free spirit.”
“You possess other gifts like a warm heart and a nurturing nature,” Aunt Roxie told her.
“Men don’t care about those things.” Samantha felt she was losing this battle to remain home for the evening. She should have feigned an illness.
“Darling, I know more about men than the three of you combined,” her aunt drawled. “Trust me, men flirt with blond beauty and free spirits but marry nurturing natures.”
“Why, thank you, Aunt Roxie,” Victoria said.
“You’ve made us feel so much better about going into society,” Angelica added.
Aunt Roxie ignored them. “Did I mention that your future husband will be in attendance tonight?”
“What do you mean?”
“I had one of my visions,” Aunt Roxie answered. “You will marry a man who is not quite what he seems, but a prince among men, nevertheless.”
Could Aunt Roxie be correct? Her aunt had been blessed with special, otherworldly talents and knew things before they happened. Was there a gentleman capable of looking beyond her flaw?
“If Angelica is marrying the marquess and Samantha is marrying a prince among men,” Victoria said, “whom did you see for me?”
“Nobody,” her aunt snapped. “You are going to die an old maid on the shelf.”
Samantha laughed at her sister’s horrified expression. Angelica joined in her merriment.
“You think too much,” Aunt Roxie told Samantha. “Emulate Victoria who never thinks.”
“Emulate me?” Victoria echoed.
Aunt Roxie gave her youngest niece an ambiguous smile and turned to Samantha. “Lose the worry and enjoy life, darling, for tonight you will experience the most enchanting evening of your young life.”
A short time later Samantha sat beside Victoria in the ducal coach. Magnus Campbell, the Duke of Inverary, and Aunt Roxie sat across from them. The marquess had persuaded Angelica to ride in his coach.
“Remember, my darlings, do not dance more than twice with any gentleman,” Aunt Roxie instructed, as their coach halted in front of Charles Emerson’s Grosvenor Square mansion.
“We don’t need to be so particular about that old rule,” the duke said.
“I will not take chances with my nieces’ futures.”
What future? Samantha felt her spirits sinking at the sight of the graceful, fashionably gowned women entering the Emerson mansion. Not one of them limped. No gentleman will ask me to dance, and once I’m categorized as a wallflower, no man will even look in my direction.
The Duke of Inverary stepped down from the carriage first and assisted her aunt, her sister, and then her. Angelica and the marquess waited for them at the stairs.
“Sisters, take a good look at this house,” Angelica said, staring at the mansion.” We lived here until ten years ago.”
“I don’t remember,” Victoria said.
Instead of looking at the mansion, Samantha turned to stare at the street. “Is this where the carriage ran me over?”
“Tonight is not the time to dwell on the past,” Aunt Roxie said. “Let’s go inside.”
Samantha felt her sister’s touch on her shoulder and heard her say, “This is where it happened.”
“That day eludes my memory.”
“Emerson will pay for his crimes against you and Father,” Angelica promised.
“I hate the dirty weasel,” Victoria said.
“So do I,” Angelica added.
“No one hates him more than I,” Samantha said.
“I’m so glad that’s settled,” Aunt Roxie drawled. “Can we go inside now?”
Long forgotten memories surfaced when they walked into the foyer. Samantha remembered her parents in evening dress, kissing her good night before they went out. She could almost smell the reassuring scent of her mother’s lilac fragrance.
“Do you remember any of this?” Victoria whispered.
“Vaguely, but Angelica would remember best,” Samantha answered.
Their party walked upstairs to the second-floor ballroom. Charles Emerson, his son, Alexander, and his daughter, Venetia Emerson Campbell, stood at the top of the ballroom and spoke with guests. The orchestra played at the opposite end of the room and consisted of a cornet, a piano, a cello, and two violins.
Samantha saw Angelica and Robert step onto the dance floor. The marquess and her sister seemed made for each other. Perhaps Aunt Roxie was correct that Angelica would marry Robert Campbell and, one day, become the Duchess of Inverary.
Turning to speak to her aunt, Samantha froze as the uncanny feeling of being watched, overwhelmed her senses. She looked around but detected no one paying her any particular attention. Still, the uncomfortable feeling persisted.
And then Robert Campbell stood in front of her. “May I have this dance?”
Samantha felt her face reddening and panic rising in her breast. She wished her sister hadn’t put the marquess up to this. “Would you mind terribly if I postponed our dance until later? I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by this crowd.”
The marquess nodded. “Whenever you feel ready.”
“I’ll dance with you,” Victoria spoke up.
“Tory, ladies do not invite gentlemen to dance,” Aunt Roxie scolded.
“I was just about to ask,” Robert said, holding out his hand to Victoria.
Angelica sidled up to Samantha. “Why won’t you dance?”
“I have no wish to become a spectacle.”
“I promise, you will not—”
Again, Samantha felt uneasy. Someone was definitely watching her. And then she saw him.
With his arms folded across his chest, the gentleman leaned against the wall and ignored the circle of female admirers surrounding him. Easily the handsomest man she’d ever seen, the gentleman in black evening attire stared at her with an intensity that made her feel weak-legged. He held her gaze captive for a long moment and then perused her body slowly as if savoring each curve. He lifted his gaze to hers again and inclined his head in her direction by way of a long-distance greeting.
Samantha gave him a cold stare and then turned away. A moment later, unable to control the impulse, she peeked at him.
He was still watching her. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. When he nodded at her again, Samantha inclined her head in his direction. Her lips turned up in an answering smile.
“Did you hear what I said?” Angelica asked.
Samantha focused on her sister. “I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.”
The dance ended. Robert and Victoria joined them.
“Here comes trouble,” Robert whispered, his lips quirking.
Samantha glanced in the direction he was looking. Venetia, the marquess’ widowed sister-in-law, walked in their direction. With her was the gentleman who’d been staring at her. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to dance.
“Lady Angelica, here is Prince Rudolf to renew your acquaintance,” Venetia said.
Samantha struggled to keep from laughing. Her sister was caught in an outrageous lie, having bragged to the other woman that the Russian prince had once proposed marriage to her.
“Your Highness, how good to see you again,” Angelica said, bluffing her way out of a bad situation. “You remember my sisters, Samantha and Victoria.”
Samantha nearly swooned when the prince looked at her and said, “I could never forget such beauty.”
“You haven’t danced with me, Robert,” Venetia said, feigning a pout.
“I was looking forward to our dance.” Robert held out his hand. “Shall we?”
Once they’d gone, Angelica said, “Thank you, Your Highness, for going along with my fabrication.”
“I suppose we were the closest of friends?” Prince Rudolf asked.
“In a manner of speaking.”
The prince smiled. “Did you leave me brokenhearted?”
“Absolutely devastated.”
Samantha studied the prince while her sister spoke with him. Prince Rudolf was as tall as the marquess, a few inches over six feet. Like the marquess, the prince was broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, and magnificent in his formal evening attire. Fathomless black eyes shone from his handsome face, accentuated by his black hair.
Prince Rudolf turned to her unexpectedly, asking, “Would you care to dance?”
His invitation surprised Samantha. How could she refuse a prince?
“Your Highness, I suffer from an old injury,” Samantha said, a high blush staining her cheeks.
Concern etched itself across his features. “Are you in pain?”
“No, I limp when I walk.”
Prince Rudolf fixed his dark gaze on hers. Samantha felt her knees go weak and knew why he’d been surrounded by so many admirers.
“Then you will dance with me,” he commanded her, holding his hand out.
Samantha dropped her gaze to his hand. Nervous indecision gripped her. More than anything else, she wanted to dance with him.
Acting on instinct, Samantha placed her hand in his. As if he knew her fear, he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze to bolster her confidence and escorted her onto the dance floor.
Samantha relaxed as soon as she stepped into his arms. The prince danced with the ease of a man who had waltzed a thousand times.
Swirling around the candlelit ballroom in his arms, Samantha felt as if she were floating on air, and became intoxicated by the music and the man. Her aunt’s prediction flitted through her mind.
“I feel as if everyone is staring at me,” Samantha said.
“They are watching me, not you,” Prince Rudolf told her. “People are always curious about royals. By the way, you dance divinely.”
“You mean, divinely for a woman who limps,” Samantha corrected him, dropping her gaze to his chest.
“Speak to me, not my chest.” When she looked up, Prince Rudolf told her, “l meant, you dance divinely.”
Samantha felt the heated blush staining her cheeks. “You dance divinely, too.”
That made him smile. “I thank you on behalf of the myriad dance masters who tutored me.”
Samantha smiled at that.
“You have a beautiful smile and should use it more often,” the prince told her.
“People who smile for no apparent reason are considered unbalanced, Your Highness,” she said.
“Unfortunately, that is true. Please, call me Rudolf.”
“Familiarity with someone of your stature would be improper,” Samantha said.
“I am a man as well as a prince,” he told her. “I want to call you Samantha and cannot do it unless you call me Rudolf.”
“Very well, Rudolf.”
“I like the sound of my name on your lips,” Prince Rudolf said, making her blush again.
The music ended, and Samantha turned to leave the dance floor with him. The prince held her arm in a firm but gentle grip and refused to budge.
“You will dance with me again.”
Her aunt had said no more than twice with any gentleman but hadn’t specified if the dances could be back to back. “Is that proper?”
“Royalty must be humored.”
Samantha inclined her head and stepped into his arms for the next waltz. She glanced in her aunt’s direction and saw the older woman nodding at her.
Circling the ballroom in the prince’s arms felt like a dream. Samantha couldn’t help thinking that her fear of dancing had been foolish.
“Speaking while waltzing is customary, Samantha.”
“I’m sorry, Rudolf.”
“What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking you speak perfect English,” she hedged.
“Your thoughts were not about my lack of an accent,” Prince Rudolf said. “However, I will admit my mother is English and tutored me herself.”
The music ended before she could reply, but again the prince refused to let her go. “I’m sorry, Rudolf,” Samantha said. “My aunt insisted that I should not dance more than twice with any gentleman.”
“Your aunt did not intend for you to offend a prince by refusing to dance with him,” Rudolf told her. “Dancing two times with the same man applies only to commoners.”
“I am the second daughter of an earl,” Samantha said. “That makes me a commoner.”
“I will compromise.” Rudolf placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her off the dance floor. “You will accompany me to the refreshment room and share a glass of champagne with me.”
Samantha didn’t know what to do. Her aunt hadn’t given her instructions about drinking champagne with a prince. She supposed that left her free to do what she wanted.
“I would like that.” In truth, Samantha didn’t want to see the prince dancing with another woman.
Together, they left the ballroom. She refused to look in her aunt’s direction lest she see disapproval stamped across the woman’s features.
“Strange, I don’t remember the ballroom, only the foyer and my mother’s fragrance,” Samantha said without thinking.
The prince gave her a curious look. “I do not understand.”
“I lived in this house until I was seven years old,” she told him.
“Your parents sold the house to Emerson?” Rudolf asked.
“The villain stole it from my father,” Samantha said, a bitter edge to her voice. In the next instant, she realized she had said too much.
The prince had stopped walking and turned to stare at her. Surprise had etched itself across his features.
“I should not have said what I did.” Samantha touched his arm. “Please, do not repeat it to anyone.”
“I would never betray a trust,” the prince assured her. “Under the circumstances, I cannot understand your parents accepting Emerson’s invitation.’
“My parents are deceased,” Samantha told him. “The gentleman you saw is the Duke of Inverary, and the lady is my Aunt Roxie.”
“The Duke of Inverary?” the prince echoed, his dark eyes gleaming with interest “I must hear this story.”
“Another time, perhaps,” she said, glancing around. “I wouldn’t wish to be overheard.”
Prince Rudolf led her to the stairs instead of the refreshment room. “We will postpone our champagne to walk in the garden while you relate this story to me.”
Samantha halted at the top of the stairs. “Is that proper?”
“You are safe with me,” the prince assured her. “I would never compromise your reputation.”
Samantha relaxed but began to have doubts as they followed several couples downstairs and headed for a stroll in the garden. She felt certain her aunt would not approve, but when she looked at the prince, she was unable to turn back and let him go. If she was going to live a lonely, miserable existence, she might as well have one evening to remember.
Rudolf and Samantha stepped into a summer’s night created for romance. Fog clung to the ground like a lover, but the sky overhead was clear, a full moon shining down on them. Torches had been lit, providing light for the couples who strolled around the garden. Mingling flower fragrances wafted through the air.
Rudolf took her hand in his and led her across the garden toward a silver birch tree. “Tell me about the Duke of Inverary.”
Heedless of her gown, Samantha leaned back against the birch tree. The solidness of its trunk comforted her.
“His Grace, an old friend of my father’s, opened his home to us and insisted on sponsoring my sisters and me,” Samantha told him.
“How generous of him.”
“Your Highness, you have been waltzing with a pauper,” Samantha whispered, merriment shining from her blue eyes and a smile on her lips. “I have nothing to recommend me.”
The prince stepped closer and, with one finger lifted her chin. “You have a great deal to recommend you,” he said, his voice seductively low.
Samantha stared into his eyes, mesmerized by their dark intensity. His handsome face inched closer. The scent of sandalwood, so arrogantly masculine, assailed her senses and made thinking impossible. His face hovered above hers for one brief, tantalizing moment. And then their lips touched.
Samantha surrendered to this new sensation. Standing within the circle of his arms and pressing her lips to his felt as natural as breathing. And then it was over.
“You are as delicate as a Bulgarian rose and more mysterious than Asian jasmine,” Rudolf whispered, his lips hovering above hers.
Dazed by his kiss, Samantha stared at him through enormous blue eyes but remained silent. Rudolf traced a finger down her cheek. “Thank you for the gift of your first kiss.”
That jerked her into awareness. How did he know she’d never kissed a man? Was her inexperience so obvious?
“How did you know?” she managed to ask.
Prince Rudolf placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. “Your skin burns with embarrassment, surely a sign of a first kiss.”
Samantha smiled with relief. Apparently, she hadn’t done anything incorrectly. “Tell me something more about yourself,” she said, looking at him from beneath the thick fringe of her sooty lashes.
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about Russia.”
“My homeland is cold.”
“You told me your mother is English,” Samantha said. ‘What about the others in your family?”
“They are Russians.”
Samantha realized he was teasing her. She cast him an unconsciously flirtatious smile. “How do princes really pass their days?”
“We issue commands to inferiors,” Rudolf told her, a smile on his lips, “while we are wearing our crowns.”
“Wearing the crown is necessary to issue commands?” Samantha asked, tilting her head back to look into his dark eyes.
“A prince should never be far from his crown,” he said, a smile flirting with his chiseled lips.
“Sometimes we princes rescue maidens like you from dragons.”
“Is that what you are doing tonight?” Samantha asked, growing serious. “I mean, rescuing me from society’s dragons?”
“Do you need rescuing, my lady?” Prince Rudolf stared into her eyes.
Samantha tore her gaze from his, feeling as if he could see into her soul and knew her deepest secrets, fears, and insecurities. Only family knew of her pain. She had too much Douglas pride to let anyone else, especially this man, see her pain.
“How do English ladies pass their days?” the prince asked, changing the subject when she remained silent.
I picked pockets until two weeks ago. Samantha looked at the prince and said, “I play the violin.”
“Will you play for me sometime?”
“I would be honored.”
“How about that glass of champagne, my Bulgarian rose?” Rudolf asked.
“I would like that very much.”
With her hand in his, Samantha walked toward the mansion. At the door, they met Angelica and the marquess on their way into the garden. Her sister appeared none too happy and cast her a look that said Aunt Roxie was displeased with her behavior.
Samantha cared not a whit. Her future loomed long and bleak in front of her. She knew the prince could never be interested in her, but he had given her an evening to remember. Perhaps more suitable gentlemen would follow the prince’s lead and become acquainted with her instead of dismissing her because of her flaw.
“Rudolf, I need to ask you a question,” Samantha said, pausing in the foyer. When he inclined his head, she dropped her gaze to his chest. “Why did you single me out tonight?”
“I love the way you look at my chest,” he said in a husky voice.
Samantha lifted her gaze to his face. He was laughing at her.
“You are a desirable woman,” Rudolf told her. “Why should I not be attracted to you?”
His answer surprised her. “But I—”
A gunshot boomed from outside the mansion. Sounds of alarm reached them.
“Stay here,” the prince ordered, heading for the door.
“I’m coming, too.” Samantha followed him outside.
They started down the street where a crowd had gathered. In the distance, Samantha saw her sister and the marquess.
“Oh,” she cried when an enormous man, dressed in black, stepped from the shadows and blocked their path.
“Good evening, Your Highness.”
“Good evening, Igor,” Rudolf said. “How is Vladimir?”
“Return Venus to her rightful owner or suffer the consequences.” With those words, the man disappeared into the night.
“What was that about?” Samantha asked.
Ignoring her question, Rudolf lifted her hands to his lips, saying, “I must take my leave now. May I call upon you?”
Her smile lit the night, and hope swelled within her breast. “Yes, Rudolf, you may.”
The prince gifted her with a devastating smile and then retraced his steps down the street. Samantha watched him disappear inside one of the coaches.
He never called upon her.
Chapter 1
Winter, 1813
“Alexander Emerson is so boring,” Victoria said. “I don’t understand why Samantha wants to marry him.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say,” Angelica scolded her youngest sister.
Samantha stood at the window of her second-floor bedchamber at the Duke of Inverary’s country estate. She stared at the curving brick drive and the courtyard’s three water terraces.
Tonight was a special night. Not only would her family celebrate the New Year but would also announce her betrothal to Alexander Emerson. Why didn’t she feel happy?
You don’t love him.
Samantha silenced that disturbing inner voice and sent it back to the suburbs of her mind. Turning away from the window, she said, “I want to marry Alexander Emerson because he is boring.”
She had passed a soul-searching week alone at the old cottage, trying to decide what to do. Her decision had been relatively easy, though, because a woman who limped wasn’t exactly the height of fashion.
“You should have gone to Sweetheart Manor instead of the cottage,” Angelica said, as if she sensed her doubts. “Robert spent a fortune restoring and renovating it, complete with staff, awaiting a visit from the Countess of Melrose and her husband.”
Samantha looked at her older sister knitting a bunting for the babe she expected in four months. “The cottage at Primrose Hill is closer than Scotland.”
“A complete change of scenery would have been good for you.”
“You may have arrived at a different decision,” Victoria said. “You don’t love Alexander.”
Her sister’s remark surprised Samantha. Was it that obvious?
“Father and Mother would never have expected you to marry a man you don’t love just so their bodies can rest on Douglas land,” Victoria added.
“Out of the mouths of babes comes wisdom,” Angelica said.
“Almost seventeen is not a child,” Victoria informed her sisters. She looked at Samantha. “Too bad Prince Rudolf never called upon you.”
Samantha kept her face expressionless, but her stomach knotted at the sound of his name. “Tory, you cannot have believed that a man of his esteem would call upon me.”
“You don’t need to marry a man you don’t love because you fear no other man will ask you,” Angelica told her.
Samantha lifted her chin a notch. “I fear nothing, especially spinsterhood.”
“Hello, my darlings,” called a voice from the doorway.
The three sisters watched their aunt cross the bedchamber. Aunt Roxie sat on the settee in front of the hearth. “Is everyone excited about tonight?”
“I can hardly wait for the midnight fireworks,” Victoria said. “His Grace certainly knows how to celebrate New Year’s.”
“Yes, he certainly knows how to celebrate,” Aunt Roxie drawled in a suggestive tone.
Samantha and Angelica exchanged smiles. Their wonderful aunt had recently made the duke her fourth husband, and the two seemed to spend a lot of time closeted within their bedchamber.
“Be careful,” Angelica teased, “or you’ll find your belly as big as mine.”
Aunt Roxie laughed. “Swallow your tongue, child.”
“You look young enough to become a mother,” Samantha said.
“Bless you, darling.” Aunt Roxie reached into her pocket and produced a necklace, a ruby pendant hanging on a gold chain. “I’ve brought you a gift.”
Samantha let her aunt place the necklace over her head and then looked down at the ruby. “Thank you, but what did I do to deserve this?”
“Darling, you deserve to be drenched in jewels for being your wonderful self,” Aunt Roxie said smoothly. She gazed into her niece’s blue eyes and told her, “This necklace possesses powerful magic.”
Samantha managed to keep her expression serious and the laughter out of her voice. “What kind of magic?”
“Legend says the star ruby will darken to the color of blood if its owner is threatened,” Aunt Roxie said.
“I will keep a guarded eye on it,” Samantha promised, a smile flirting with the corners of her lips.
“Remember, child,” Aunt Roxie said, putting her arm around her, “life doesn’t always turn out as planned.”
“Did you have another vision?” Victoria asked. “Can you tell me which gentleman will invite me to supper?”
“Tory, you are beginning to give me a headache.” Samantha said, rising from her chair.
“I need some fresh air.” She donned her hooded, fur-lined cloak over her blue dress and grabbed her special violin case with the wide leather strap that hung over her shoulder.
“Darling, have a wonderful time,” Aunt Roxie called. “Remember, your ruby will warn you if danger threatens.”
Samantha paused at the door. Her aunt sounded as if she was going on a trip instead of the gazebo to play her violin.
“I won’t forget.” Armed with her violin, Samantha walked down the corridor to the curving staircase. She paused when she reached the foyer and looked at the duke’s statuary of the Three Fates.
What did the Fates have planned? Whenever her aunt behaved mysteriously, something unexpected happened, and the unexpected was always a turn for the worse.
A crisp afternoon greeted Samantha. The sun warmed her face as she crossed the expanse of snow-dusted lawn nearest the mansion.
Samantha opened the iron gate that separated the lawn from the garden. The fine hairs on her nape prickled. Feeling like she was being watched, she paused and glanced around the area. Nothing seemed amiss.
Flicking her cloak open, Samantha looked at the placid star ruby. She shook off the uncomfortable feeling and continued on her way past the maze and across another, larger expanse of lawn.
The gazebo stood beyond the lawns at the edge of the woodland. Samantha sighed and seated herself inside. Scented with woodsmoke from the fireplaces within the mansion, the afternoon was a gem of blue sky and sunshine.
Why didn’t she feel happy and lighthearted? Alexander Emerson was intelligent and kind and possessed blond good looks. He was excellent husband material, and she intended to be the best wife ever.
The image of the Russian prince stepped from the shadows of her mind. Her heart ached for what could never be. Why had he asked to call upon her? If he’d said nothing, she would never have expected to see him again. Instead, she had waited weeks for a visit that never materialized.
Samantha told herself she should be grateful for that one enchanted evening. Many women never had that much. Opening her instrument case, Samantha lifted her violin and bow. Then she began to play a haunting melody that mirrored her feeling of loneliness.
* * *
Two pairs of eyes watched Samantha crossing the grounds. Robert Campbell and Prince Rudolf stood at the window in the duke’s study and watched the petite, ebony-haired woman walking toward the gazebo.
“Samantha Douglas is a lovely woman,” Prince Rudolf said, breaking the silence.
“Yes, too bad about her limp,” Robert replied.
“Limp?” the prince echoed, glancing sidelong at the other man. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Robert gave the prince an amused smile but made no reply. He walked away for a minute and returned to hand him a dram of whiskey.
“I would prefer vodka if you have any,” Rudolf told him.
“I’m sorry,” Robert said with a shrug.
“I’ll send you a supply at first opportunity.” Prince Rudolf downed the whiskey in one gulp and added, “Vodka is a man’s drink. Save the whiskey for the ladies.” He returned his attention to the young woman sitting alone in the gazebo. She appeared as lonely as he felt.
“Samantha will be announcing her engagement to Alexander Emerson tonight,” Robert told him.
“Wasn’t there trouble between the Douglases and the Emersons?” Rudolf asked, his gaze on the woman in the gazebo.
“Alexander is determined to make amends for his father’s misdeeds.”
“Samantha deserves a husband who loves her,” Rudolf said.
“I spoke those very words to my wife this morning,” Robert agreed. “However, unless that man makes an appearance within the next few hours, both Samantha and Alexander will be bound to spouses who don’t love them.”
Rudolf turned to meet the marquess’ dark gaze. “Samantha does not love him?”
“I think not.”
Turning his back on the window, Rudolf scanned the duke’s study filled with mahogany furniture and bookcases built into the walls. Though his gaze was on the study, his thoughts were on the woman sitting in the gazebo. Samantha Douglas probably despised him for not calling upon her, but what could he do? Other, more important obligations had demanded his attention. Perhaps if circumstances had been different—
The door swung open at that moment, and the Duke of Inverary walked into the room. Magnus Campbell was an older version of his son—tall and well-built, black eyes, black hair beginning to silver at the temples.
“Shall we get down to business?” the duke said, gesturing toward his desk.
Prince Rudolf inclined his head and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. The marquess sat in another chair while the duke took his place behind the desk.
“We haven’t seen you about town for several months,” Duke Magnus remarked, a polite smile appearing on his face.
“I’ve been rusticating on my new estate,” Rudolf told him.
“Where is that?” the marquess asked.
“Sark Island in the Channel,” Rudolf answered. “I settled my mother and daughter there and decided to stay for a prolonged visit.”
“You have a daughter?”
Rudolf heard the surprise in the other man’s voice and knew he was probably thinking about his young sister-in-law. “I lost my wife.”
“I’m sorry.”
Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “Your English is perfect, no trace of an accent.”
“My mother is English,” Rudolf told the older man, watching his expression. “Elizabeth Montague. Perhaps you remember her?”
Rudolf noted the flicker of recognition in the duke’s dark eyes. Within an instant, the older man had shuttered his expression.
“I never had the pleasure of making her acquaintance,” Duke Magnus said, shifting his gaze away from him.
The duke was lying. That much was obvious to Rudolf. Had his mother spoken truthfully about the Duke of Inverary? She did have many lucid moments.
“What can we do for you, Your Highness?” Duke Magnus asked.
“I have come to do for you.” Rudolf looked from the duke to the marquess. “I am not in accord with my brother. Last summer, my agents pirated a ship they thought belonged to Vladimir. Unfortunately, The Tempest belongs to you.”
Rudolf reached into his jacket pocket, produced an envelope, and placed it on the desk. “I am an honorable man with more money than I could hope to spend. Here is a banknote for the money my agents stole. With interest, of course. I hope you won’t press charges.”
Both the duke and the marquess sat in stunned silence for a long moment. Finally, Duke Magnus said, “We’ll call it a misunderstanding.”
“I appreciate your generous spirit,” Rudolf said.
Your brother and you play roughly with each other,” the marquess remarked.
Rudolf rose from his chair and looked out the window again at the woman sitting in the gazebo. Without thinking, he told them, “Vladimir wants me dead.”
Silence greeted his revelation. Apparently, he’d shocked the Campbells again. These descendants of Highlanders thought they were strong, stalwart men but could learn real brutality from his own countrymen.
Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “You’ll stay for tonight’s celebration, of course.”
The last thing Rudolf wanted to witness was Samantha Douglas becoming engaged to Alexander Emerson. “I haven’t brought evening attire with me,” he said in refusal. “As a matter of fact, I rode alone from London, so I could complete the round trip in one day.”
“Your horse needs to rest,” Robert said, rising from his chair. “We’re about the same size. You’ll borrow my clothes.”
Rudolf flicked a glance out the window again. Like a siren’s song, the sweetness of the woman playing the violin called to him. “I accept your invitation,” he said. “Would you mind if I walked outside to offer Samantha my best wishes?”
“I’m certain she’ll appreciate that,” the marquess replied, but his concerned expression said something else.
Rudolf inclined his head and started to leave. The duke’s voice stopped him at the door.
“Your Highness, may I ask how old you are?” Duke Magnus asked.
Rudolf glanced at the marquess, who looked as surprised at the question as he felt. “I will be twenty-eight on the fifteenth day of May.”
* * *
Trying to clear disturbing thoughts from her mind, Samantha had stopped thinking about Alexander and had let her violin take her wherever it would. Caught up in her music, she closed her eyes and poured all of her heartache and longing into her song.
“My Bulgarian rose.”
Samantha opened her eyes and stared at the prince.
Her heart lurched at the sight of his handsome face, and she couldn’t seem to find her voice.
Was he real, or was she imagining him? Why had he come here today when she was about to announce her betrothal? Was this his idea of a joke?
“I promised to call upon you,” Rudolf said, his voice intimately husky, “but you do not seem pleased.”
“You are slightly tardy, Your Highness.” Samantha steeled herself against him.
“Rudolf,” he corrected her.
Samantha placed her violin and bow into their case. Then she slung the leather strap over her shoulder and stood, saying, “If you will excuse me, Your Highness.”
“Sit down,” Rudolf ordered.
“I am not one of your—”
“Sit down, I said.”
Samantha sat down, her cloak opening with the movement. She never felt the cold though. Her blue gaze on him glinted with anger.
“I wish to explain why I never called upon you,” Rudolf told her.
“An explanation is unnecessary.” Samantha forced an insincere smile onto her face.
“Yes, I know,” Rudolf agreed. “I had an emergency.”
“A six-month emergency?”
“I needed to settle my mother and my daughter—”
“You have a daughter?” Samantha interrupted, surprised by his words.
“Interrupting is impolite,” Rudolf said.
Samantha dropped her gaze to the gazebo’s floor and noticed the star ruby had deepened into the color of blood. Was she in danger from the prince? She couldn’t credit that. Perhaps her heart—
“As I was saying,” Rudolf continued, running a hand through his black hair in apparent frustration, “I needed to settle my mother and daughter on the estate I purchased. Several other problems surfaced then.”
“I understand.” Samantha started to rise.
“I have not dismissed you,” Rudolf said, his voice stern with authority.
Samantha stared in surprise at him. Who did he think he was? The bloody King of England? And then she realized that, as a royal, no one had ever refused him anything. Apparently, the prince had led a parochial life. She would love to teach him a lesson, but she was getting engaged and had no time for games.
“You will postpone announcing your betrothal,” the prince told her.
“I will do no such thing.”
“You do not love this Alexander Emerson,” Rudolf said.
“You know nothing about me,” Samantha shot back.
“I know you are as delicate as a Bulgarian rose and as mysterious as Asian jasmine,” Rudolf said, the hint of a smile touching his lips.
“Are you proposing marriage?” she challenged him.
“I cannot offer marriage at this time,” he said. “I want to become better acquainted with you, which I cannot do if you are betrothed to another man.”
“You want me to cancel my betrothal so that you can become better acquainted with me?” Samantha echoed, arching an ebony brow at him.
Rudolf nodded. “That is correct.”
“Your Highness, have you been indulging in spirits?”
“Help. . .”
Samantha whirled around and stared at the woodland behind the gazebo. She glanced at the prince, who was also staring at the woodland.
“Help. . .”
Samantha brushed past the prince and hurried as fast as her limp would allow toward the woodland path. Prince Rudolf was two steps behind her.
“You will wait here,” he ordered, grasping her upper arm.
Samantha shrugged his hand off and kept going. Twilight had already descended inside the dense woodland, and she could barely see where she was going.
“Help. . .” The cry seemed to be coming from behind them now.
Samantha whirled around in time to see an enormous man cock a pistol at Prince Rudolf. “No,” she cried, starting toward them. Someone grabbed her from behind, but she stomped her assailant’s foot with the heel of her boot.
“Oww, she broke my toes,” a man cried.
“For Gawd’s sake, she don’t weigh more than a few ounces,” a second man said.
“She weighs enough to make me a Hopping Giles,” the first man replied.
“Igor.” Samantha fixed her gaze on the giant with the pistol.
The giant flicked a glance at her and said to the prince, “Your ladybird remembers me.”
“You are not easily forgotten,” Prince Rudolf said. “Release the woman before you shoot me. She has no part in my disagreement with Vladimir.”
Igor remained silent for a moment. “I cannot release her now that she has recognized me, but I will not murder a prince, either. If Vladimir wants you dead, he will need to do it himself.” He gestured to the path, ordering, “Turn around and start walking.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Samantha cried, her panic rising. “I’m announcing my betrothal tonight.”
“I’m sorry,” Prince Rudolf said, “but you are not a princess. Igor would suffer no qualms about shooting you.”
Igor pointed the pistol at her as if to emphasize the prince’s words. Samantha curled her lips at him but fell into step beside the prince.
With the two men in the lead and Igor pointing the pistol on their backs, Samantha and Rudolf walked through the woodland. Her limp slowed them down, but fifteen minutes later they emerged from the woods and saw a coach waiting on the road. The sun had set outside the woodland, and dusk was rapidly darkening into night.
One of the men opened the coach door and gestured them inside. Samantha hesitated, saying, “I really must protest—”
Igor leveled the pistol at her, and Samantha climbed into the coach. The prince climbed in and sat beside her.
Igor slammed the door. A moment later, the coach started up.
“I’m sorry for involving you in this,” Rudolf said, putting a comforting arm around her. “I promise to rescue you from death.”
Samantha looked at him. His handsome face was barely visible within the darkness of the coach. “I’m getting engaged.”
“Not tonight.” Prince Rudolf gave her a satisfied smile.
Samantha leveled a disgruntled look on him and, whirling away, fell back against him.
She felt the prince’s arms going around her and jerked herself into an upright position. After giving him a warning look, she turned away. This time she held on to the edge of the seat lest she fall on the floor or the prince’s lap.
Samantha pulled her fur-lined cloak tightly around herself. How had she managed to get herself involved in this untenable situation? More important, how would she extricate herself?
She had passed her entire eighteen years living in the shadows cast by her talented older sister, who wanted revenge, and her vibrant younger sister, who wanted fun.
Nobody ever noticed her, and she had never thought she would be fortunate enough to marry and have her own family.
Along had come Alexander Emerson, who wanted to make amends for his father’s crimes against her family. Alexander didn’t love her, but he would have made a good husband.
And now? Even if she survived this, her reputation would be ruined. No man would marry her after she had disappeared with a Russian prince, not even Alexander Emerson. To think her dream had been within her grasp, and now it was slipping through her fingers . . .
Samantha lost control of her emotions. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and then a sob escaped her throat.
“I am sorry,” Prince Rudolf whispered against her ear.
Samantha felt his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. His breath was warm on the side of her cheek, and his sandalwood scent teased her senses. She turned toward him and saw the handkerchief he was holding out to her.
Regaining control of herself, Samantha lifted the handkerchief out of his hand. “I apologize for crying. Weeping never solved a problem.”
“Tears purge the soul of negative humors,” the prince said. “I know you are frightened, but we will have an opportunity to escape.”
“I fear nothing, Your Highness, not even Igor,” Samantha told him, feigning courage. “I have no intention of waiting for an opportunity to escape. Douglases make their own luck.” Even in the darkness, she saw the white of his teeth when he smiled at her bravado.
“What shall we do?” the prince asked. “Leap out of a moving coach? We would only kill ourselves.”
“We’re going to die anyway,” she reminded him.
“I think not.”
“If I wasn’t with you,” Samantha asked, “what would you do?”
Rudolf smiled at her. “I would leap out the door.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
“The violin will injure you in the leap,” Rudolf told her. “You will need to leave it behind.”
Accustomed to the darkness now, Samantha looked him straight in the eye. “Your Highness, I and my violin are going out that door. With any luck, I can make it back to the duke’s residence in time to save my reputation and my betrothal.”
“Very well, but I will carry the violin,” Rudolf acquiesced. “Listen carefully to my directions. When I open the door, you must jump at an angle away from the direction the coach is traveling. Tuck in your head, arms, and legs so you will not be run over. Roll away from the road when you hit the ground. Do you understand?”
Samantha made no reply. His words “so you will not be run over” echoed within her mind. The memory of excruciating pain flittered through her mind. Panic and dread paralyzed her resolve to escape the coach.
“Do you understand?” the prince asked again, yanking her free of her memory.
Samantha nodded and repeated his directions. “Jump away from the coach, tucking my extremities, and roll when I hit the ground.”
“I will jump immediately after you.” Rudolf reached for the handle, but the door wouldn’t open. He looked at her and shrugged. “Igor locked it.”
“Let me try,” Samantha said, reaching across his body.
“Do you think you have more strength than I?” the prince asked.
Samantha dropped her hand to her lap and sat back against the seat. “Do you have any ideas?”
“None at the moment.” Prince Rudolf gave her a devastating smile.
“How can you be so cheerful in the face of death?” His smile irritated her.
“I am actually relieved,” the prince admitted. “The locked door precludes injury.”
“I am not as delicate as you think,” she said.
“I was considering the chance of injury to myself,” he told her.
Samantha felt the heated blush rising on her cheeks and was thankful for the darkness inside the coach. Dropping her gaze to his mouth, she recalled how his lips felt covering hers. What a fool she’d been to believe that a prince would call upon her. She would never give her imagination free rein again. However handsome the prince was, he was not the man for her.
“Our continued good health does not concern me,” Rudolf told her. “The star inside your ruby is formed by three benign spirits—faith, hope, and destiny.”
“Destiny’s spirit doesn’t seem benign to me tonight,” Samantha said, a rueful tone in her voice.
“Your destiny lies not with Alexander Emerson,” the prince said.
“Apparently, my destiny is to die with you,” Samantha said. “By the way, why does this Vladimir want you dead?”
“That is none of your business.”
Samantha couldn’t believe she was going to her grave without knowing the reason. She had the right to know her murderer’s motive.
“Did Alexander—” The prince hesitated for a moment. “Did Alexander give you the ruby?”
“That is none of your business,” Samantha said, tossing his words back at him.
“Refrain from disrespect, young lady.”
Lifting her nose into the air, Samantha moved to sit on the seat opposite him. The prince moved when she did, joining her there. When she started to switch to her original seat, Rudolf put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her back against his body.
“You cannot escape me, my love,” Rudolf whispered against her ear.
Love? His choice of words wounded her. Was this a cruel joke? Or was he trying to make a doomed woman feel better?
“I apologize for failing to call upon you,” Rudolf said. “Family obligations prevented me from doing what my heart desired.”
Samantha heard the regret in his voice against him. “You owe me no apology or explanation.”
“When I met you, I sensed that you understood great pain,” Prince Rudolf said, his hand on her shoulder beginning a slow caress. “I have suffered pain in my life, too.”
Samantha sighed. “I suppose no one lives without pain, even princes.”
“Especially princes.”
“We may as well become acquainted while we wait to die,” Samantha said. “Tell me about your family.”
“I moved my English mother and my daughter to England after losing my wife,” Rudolf told her. “Upon her brother’s passing, I had inherited Montague House.”
“Losing your wife must have been difficult,” Samantha said. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“I have four younger brothers,” Rudolf told her. “Vladimir and Viktor are twins. Then comes Mikhail and Stepan.”
So this Vladimir is his brother. “What about your father?” she asked. “Is he deceased?”
“I prefer not to discuss my father,” the prince said, his voice cold. He softened his tone when he said, “Tell me about yourself, little one.”
“I am a pauper,” Samantha said. “I haven’t a penny to my name.”
“I measure people by the size of their hearts, not their purses.” Rudolf tightened his embrace, brushing his lips against her temple.
“How rare for a prince to possess magnanimous integrity,” Samantha said, a smile in her voice.
The scent of woodsmoke wafted through the air into their coach. Both Rudolf and Samantha looked out the window. In spite of the hour and the cold, many people filled the narrow street.
“We are in London,” Prince Rudolf said.
He reached out to stroke her cheek and then turned her face toward his. She knew he was going to kiss her and closed her eyes as the exotic scent of sandalwood filled her senses.
His lips touched hers, claiming her mouth in a lingering kiss. It melted into another and then another. Only the coach jerking to an abrupt halt broke them apart.
“Stay alert for any avenue of escape,” Rudolf whispered.
“Why am I going to die?” Samantha asked in a quavering voice.
“My brother hates me,” Rudolf told her. “Vladimir takes after our father.”
His admission surprised Samantha, but she had no time to consider his statement. The coach’s door swung open.
“Get out,” Igor ordered.
Rudolf climbed down first and turned to assist her. Looping the instrument case’s leather strap over her shoulder, Samantha steadied herself by grasping the door handle.
No lock, registered in her mind. Samantha snapped her gaze toward the prince.
Rudolf smiled like a boy caught in a prank, earning himself a black scowl. “I saved you from yourself,” he whispered.
“Follow my companions into the house,” Igor ordered, pointing his pistol at them.
Carrying lanterns, the two accomplices led the way into the alley door of the house. Rudolf walked in front of Samantha, who was followed by Igor.
Once inside, Samantha saw that the hallway led into the kitchen. Instead of entering the kitchen, the men with the lanterns opened a door and turned to start down a flight of stairs.
“Owww,” Samantha cried, losing her balance. She pushed the prince out of the way and fell into one of the villains.
“Damned Hopping Giles,” the man cursed, shoving her back.
The force of his shove sent her careening into Igor. Rudolf grabbed and steadied her.
“Touch her again, and you will die,” Rudolf threatened the man.
“I’m shakin’, yer lordship,” he shot back.
The prince growled and moved to grab the man.
“Please, Rudolf, I am uninjured,” Samantha said, placing a restraining hand on the prince’s arm. “If they kill you, I will be alone.”
Chapter 2
The cellar smelled like a dead skunk. Darkness lay beyond the circle of light cast by the lanterns. Samantha didn’t even want to think about what hid in the cellar’s corners.
“You cannot leave us here,” Rudolf said, turning to the giant. “This room is unhealthy.”
“You won’t live long enough to get sick,” one of the men said.
“You’ll be dead in the morning,” his friend agreed.
Samantha didn’t want to die. She especially didn’t want to die in this cellar.
Rudolf drew her against his body and turned to Igor. “For the lady’s sake, leave us the lantern.”
The big Russian gestured one of his thugs to leave the lantern. Then he reached into his pocket and muttered, “Where are those damned keys?” He looked at his minions and ordered, “You get the spare keys. And you bring vodka, cheese, and bread.”
“You’re gonna feed them?” the second man asked. “That’s a waste of food and drink.”
Igor growled like a bear and stepped toward the man, who dashed up the stairs. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he said to the prince. “Vladimir will arrive in a day or two. Ah, here is your supper.”
“No caviar?”
“My apologies, Your Highness.”
“I always liked you,” Rudolf told Igor. “If you ever leave my brother’s employ, you are welcome to join my household.”
Before the big Russian could reply, one of the villains said, “Dead men don’t keep households.” The man reached for the violin case, adding, “We’ll get a few coins for this.”
“Over my dead body,” Samantha cried holding tight to the violin case, refusing to relinquish it.
Rudolf hit the man’s arm, forcing him to release it. At the same moment, Igor grabbed the man’s throat, lifted him into the air and tossed him toward the stairs.
Choking and wheezing, the man scurried up the stairs just as his friend appeared in the doorway, calling, “I found the keys.”
“Enjoy the vodka, Your Highness.” The big Russian climbed the stairs, closed the door, and locked it.
Samantha watched the prince lift the lantern high and turn in a circle as if scanning the cellar for an escape route. Finding none, he set the lantern down on the floor and looked at her.
“In a day or two, you will experience the dubious pleasure of meeting my brother,” Rudolf said. “I am sorry you have become involved in our quarrel.”
Regardless of the filth, Samantha sat down on the bottom stair. “I cannot believe I am sitting here instead of becoming betrothed,” she complained. “Alexander will never marry me now.”
“You do not love the man,” the prince said. “From what I have heard, he does not love you.”
“Love has nothing to do with marriage,” Samantha told him. “That is a luxury reserved for a fortunate few like wealthy, handsome princes.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” Rudolf said, inclining his head, “but you deserve a husband who loves you.”
“You lied about the coach door,” Samantha said, ignoring his remark.
Now the prince ignored her remark, asking, “What is Hopping Giles?”
Samantha sighed. “Saint Giles is the patron saint of cripples, and Hopping Giles is a derogatory name given to cripples.”
“You are no cripple.”
“Are you blind?” Samantha asked in irritation. “I walk with a limp.”
“Assume a respectful tone of voice when you address me,” Rudolf ordered her. “I am a prince of Russia.”
“You are a royal pain in my arse,” Samantha snapped, and then unleashed the full fury of her anger. “Where do you get the gall to correct my behavior? You disappeared for six months and then barged into my life, upsetting my plans and getting me abducted.”
“I have apologized for that,” the prince said stiffly.
“I haven’t forgiven you.”
Sitting on the stair beside her, Rudolf gave her a confused look, asking, “Isn’t one required to accept an apology?”
Surprised by his question, Samantha turned her head to stare at him. “Your Highness, have you ever apologized to anyone?”
“Not that I can remember.” Rudolf took a swig of the vodka and offered her the bottle.
“I do not indulge in spirits,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “Why does your brother want you dead?”
“Vladimir has always harbored an intense jealousy toward me,” Rudolf answered. “He wants something I have and, apparently, is willing to kill for it.”
Samantha couldn’t understand what was so important that one brother would murder another. After all, the English throne was not at stake. “What do you have?”
“I possess the Kazanov Venus,” he answered.
“. . . Return Venus to her rightful owner or suffer the consequences.” Samantha recalled Igor’s words to the prince on the night of the Emerson ball.
“The Kazanov Venus is a medallion of gold engraved with the goddess Venus holding the hand of her son, Cupid,” Rudolf told her, his pride apparent in his voice. “The piece has belonged to my family for five hundred years, always passed down from father to eldest son. Whoever possesses the Kazanov Venus enjoys prosperity and fertility.”
“Why don’t you let Vladimir borrow it?” Samantha asked.
“My brother has already stolen several of my possessio
