Be My Prince (15 page)

He was looking down at her, clearly overcome by his own desires. A film of perspiration shone on his forehead and he breathed heavily, pushing into her faster and more vigorously. Then he shuddered and convulsed and pulled out of her quickly, rising up onto his hands and knees.

“God,” he groaned, taking hold of himself and convulsing again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, for she had no knowledge of these things.

He glanced down. “I’m not sure I was quick enough to withdraw. I didn’t want to.” His eyes met hers. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ll be married soon.”

A glow of happiness smoldered within her, and she grabbed hold of his neckcloth to pull him close for another kiss. Their tongues collided and meshed, and her heart raced with excitement.

“Oh, Randolph, I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“You must call me Rand,” he replied. “It’s what my friends and family call me.”

“And which am I?”

He returned her smile with a mischievous grin that touched her all over again. “You will soon be both, but you are also something more.”

“And what is that? Or am I fishing for compliments?” She coquettishly arched her back and hung on to his lapels.

He chuckled as he fastened his trousers. “You shall never be in need of compliments from me, darling, for I will worship you until the day I die.”

After he helped her lower her skirts, she snuggled close to him on the sofa. They lay together for a long while in the quiet drawing room, listening to the fire crackling in the hearth, stroking each other gently, kissing dreamily.

Alex cleared her throat. “Rand,” she said. “There is something I must tell you.” Dread vibrated down her spine at the thought of it and she wished she had told him sooner, but she had become so distracted by the pleasures he offered.

“What is it?” he asked.

She leaned up on an elbow to meet his gaze, and he regarded her with affection. It gave her the strength she needed to continue.

“There is something you don’t know about me, but before I confess it, I must assure you that everything that has happened between us has been real, and what I feel for you is genuine. I adored you even before I knew you were the future king. Will you remember that above all else?”

He shifted uncomfortably beside her, then leaned up on an elbow to hear the rest.

Chapter Sixteen

“I was not born in England,” Alexandra told him.

Randolph inclined his head curiously.

“And I am not the true daughter of the Duke of St. George,” she continued. “I was born in Switzerland, but was smuggled out of that country when I was only three days old and adopted by the duke.” She paused while a gust of wind howled down the chimney and attacked the flames in the hearth. “I knew nothing of this until the duke died six years ago. That is when Mr. Carmichael came to my door.”

“Switzerland…” The color drained from Randolph’s face. He sat up on the sofa.

She, too, sat up beside him and adjusted her skirts while he retied his neckcloth.

“I suspect that has some significance to you,” she said.

He nodded but did not explain what he knew of it. “Continue.”

Her stomach churned sickeningly, but she maintained her composure. “My real father was Oswald Tremaine, King of Petersbourg, who was deposed by the military during the Revolution, which occurred under your father’s command.”

She kept her eyes fixed upon his while he stared at her with shock. “Is this a joke?” he asked.

“No, it is the truth, and I am quite sure it was not the least bit amusing to my mother when her husband died in a foreign country and she was left alone to give birth to me. And it was certainly no laughing matter when she died holding me in her arms.”

His eyes darkened with fury and he stood quickly, as if she had just poured a bucket of ice water on him.

“Perhaps I didn’t express that very well,” she added.

“Is there any better way to express it?” He began to pace back and forth in front of her. “Good God, Alex! What does this mean? Are you telling me you are a Tremaine princess? A legitimate heir to the Petersbourg throne? To my
father’s
throne?”

She held out her hands to calm him. “Yes, that is correct, but it is not my intention to take it away from you.”

“Then what
is
your intention?” he asked, looking utterly appalled. “What were you plotting when you came to Carlton House that first night? You kept your identity secret, even from the regent.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Unless he knows. Does he?”

“No, of course not. No one knew, except for my stepmother and Mr. Carmichael. We were afraid for my safety.”

“Your safety? What in God’s name are you hinting at?”

Alexandra stood up. “Surely you must know the answer to that. My parents were forcibly removed from the palace, and they are now lying cold in their graves. I could not be sure of anything.”

“I was there the night they were ‘forcibly removed,’” he told her. “I witnessed everything. No harm came to them. They were put into the protection of my father’s military commanders.”

“But what happened after that?” she asked. “How could you possibly know? You were only a boy.”

He cupped his forehead in a hand and continued to pace. “Are you suggesting they were assassinated? Or that
you
might be in danger of such an end? That is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” she replied. “There are those who maintain that my father was murdered.”

He swung around to face her. “Who says this? I demand that you name them!”

“I cannot. To do so would be to sign their death warrants for high treason. Besides … I don’t know their names.”

For a long moment he stared at her. “Good God, Alexandra. What are you playing at?”

“Nothing!” she shouted in protest. “But I have read the reports. I know that my father was taken to a remote location in Switzerland with very few witnesses. The military denied any wrongdoing of course, but there are those who have heard rumors. You may not believe it, but you are a Sebastian. You are your father’s son.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know where your loyalty lies.”

He crossed to the side table and poured himself a glass of brandy, which he quickly swallowed. He poured another, which he handed to her.

“Make your point,” he said. “What do you want?”

She accepted the glass and held on to it without bringing it to her lips. “I just want
you,
” she replied. “That is all. Nothing more.”

His voice was ice-cold. “How am I to believe that? You have been lying to me from the outset.”

“Might I remind you that you have been lying to me as well?”

“But I told you the truth
before…”
He stopped himself and gestured toward the sofa. “How can I not think this was a trap? Because I assure you, I am not in the habit of making love to virgins.”

She set the glass of brandy down on a table. “Nor am I in the habit of offering my virtue to every man who sends me love letters. Not that very many have. You are the only one. In fact, what happened between us tonight had nothing to do with politics or crowns. I told you my feelings were real, and I would have married you even if you were nothing but a clerk or a merchant. The only reason I did not run away with you this morning was because of what I read in the paper.”

He sank down into a chair and slouched back, stretching his long legs out in front of him and cupping his forehead in a hand. “How will I ever know if that is true? How can I be sure you didn’t know who I was all along, and have orchestrated all of this?”

Alex laughed bitterly. “Do you really think I am a powerful puppet master who can manipulate events to my liking? I was heartbroken this morning when I learned about the lady at the Hanover Hotel, and I have never felt more powerless. All I wanted was you, yet I was told you were a shameless seducer of women.” Now it was her turn to pace. “And tonight I arrived here, determined to ignore my broken heart and negotiate openly with your brother, but then you revealed a shocking truth—that you are a complete impostor. You proceeded to make love to me, which was no small distraction, and I am still reeling from it. So please, Randolph, do not assume I am manipulating things to my liking, for my whole world has just turned upside down. I have no idea what will happen next, and all I want to do is go back in time to the moment you took me in your arms and promised that I could tell you anything and it would be all right.”

His dark brows drew together with uncertainty; then he practically sprang out of the chair.

Alex backed up in fear.

“If you are lying to me,” he growled as he took hold of her arm.

“I’m not. I swear on my life! I told you everything.” She pulled away from him. “I have confessed my feelings, and I have given myself to you, body and soul. I was a fool for you tonight, and I did not mean for it to go as far as it did. It all happened so quickly.”

He turned away from her and walked to the window, where he looked out at the blackness of the night.

“I am still uncertain of my destiny,” she continued, “and my desires. I don’t know what I am meant for. The only thing that was clear to me tonight was the pleasure I felt in your arms, and the fact that you said you loved me. That was all that mattered, and all that matters to me now is that you forgive me for keeping the truth from you, as I have forgiven you for the same. What matters is our future together.”

He turned to face her. “You have put me in a difficult position, Alexandra. Because, you see, I was fooled once before by a woman who told me she loved me. She played the part very well, but she was merely ambitious, not to mention in love with another man. Love can be blinding that way.”

Alexandra’s heart pounded heavily. She could barely get air into her lungs.

“Earlier tonight, you told me I was not blind,” she said. “You believed I saw the truth because I loved you even when I didn’t know your real name. I am asking you now to see the same sort of truth. I am not that woman who betrayed you, and it shouldn’t matter where I was born or who my father was. Nor should it matter that I kept something from you, because you did the same to me. Does that mean you do not love me? You have already stated and shown me otherwise, and I still believe you. All I ask is the same in return.”

The firelight reflected in his eyes while he stood before her, contemplating all that she had said. “Are you really Oswald’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“And your family is all gone.”

“Yes.”

He paused. “What about your benefactor downstairs? Who is he? What are his ambitions?”

Taking a deep breath, Alexandra spoke truthfully. “He was my father’s secretary and a loyal servant for many years. He is a Royalist, of course, and wants to see the House of Tremaine restored to the throne.”

Randolph regarded her with a mixture of mistrust and pity. “You are very naïve, Alexandra, if you believe that is all he wants.” He turned and moved closer to the fire. “In any case, my father will know everything there is to know about him if he was your father’s secretary during the Revolution. They would have known each other all those years ago.” He turned to face her. “Has he spoken of my father to you? Has he uttered any words of treason?”

She moved closer. “You wish to know if he means to inspire a civil war and depose your family?”

“Yes.” When she did not reply straightaway, he prodded further. “Well? What are his intentions? And I warn you, Alex, if you lie to me, you will be committing treason as well.”

She swallowed uneasily and bit back the resentment she felt at such a threat. “He has never revealed such a plan to me, though he has spoken many times of the turmoil in your country—how the people are divided between the Royalists and the supporters of the New Regime. I believe it is his intention to bring peace by uniting our two bloodlines, and that is my intention as well. So do not accuse me of treason. It offends me greatly.”

He picked up a log from the iron canister and tossed it onto the grate. A flurry of bright sparks flew up the chimney.

For a long moment, he watched the log begin to burn; then he turned to face her.

“I have proposed to you,” he said, “and I have made love to you. As a gentleman, that leaves me little choice about the future. You could be carrying my child, and I am therefore trapped.” He strode closer. “But make no mistake about it, Alexandra. Remember that I am no ordinary gentleman. I am a future king, and I will not bring enemies into my father’s court.”

“I am not your enemy,” she insisted. “I want what is best for Petersbourg, but more importantly, I want you. Do not forget that I said I would marry you before I knew who you were. There is love between us, Randolph, and you know it.”

His eyes narrowed. “There are many who say a king has no business marrying for love, and I am beginning to think they are right. Perhaps it is time I accepted that.” He looked away for a moment. “You must leave me now. Go home. I will need to consult with Nicholas.”

The ice in his tone chilled her heart, but she had said all she could. He knew the facts, and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel as if she were tightening the trap.

“I understand,” she said. “There is much to consider. What shall I say to Mr. Carmichael?”

Rand pulled the bell rope, then walked to the door and held it open for her. “Tell him that I am Prince Randolph, and that I am considering your proposition. You will have your answer in the morning. Spencer will see you out.”

Slowly, Alex made her way to the door, but hesitated before leaving. “I will not tell Mr. Carmichael what happened between us tonight,” she said. “That is private between you and me, and I give you my word that I will not hold you responsible for it. The intimacies that occurred between us were never meant to be a trap. I did not plan it that way.”

He regarded her with cool, callous eyes, then simply nodded to acknowledge her pledge.

Alexandra curtsied and turned to the butler, who was just coming up the stairs.

“Our guests will be leaving now,” Randolph said.

“Very good, sir,” the man replied.