Be My Prince (24 page)

The marquess—a handsome young aristocrat with chestnut-colored hair and a muscular build—bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, allow me to present this gift to you in celebration of your recent nuptials, for which my father sends his most exultant regards.”

His servant approached from behind and opened a long, narrow box, which contained a shiny broadsword with a golden hilt and pommel, lying on a bed of crimson velvet.

Randolph immediately rose from his throne to take a closer look. “A Scottish claymore,” he said with approval, removing it from the box and testing its weight. “Well done, Leopold.”

“His Majesty knows his weapons,” the marquess replied with a friendly smile that revealed an obvious familiarity between them. “My father obtained it from the Scottish Duke of Moncrieffe when he visited the Highlands.”

Alex watched her husband move closer to the windows, where he swung the blade around. He then set it back in the box and returned to his throne.

“We will see you at the banquet this evening,” he said to the marquess. “We will plan our next hunt.”

“I shall look forward to it.”

“The banquet or the hunt?” Rand asked with a hint of mischief.

Lord Cavanaugh smiled. “Both, Your Majesty, with equal enthusiasm.”

After he was gone and before the next visitor was announced, Alexandra leaned close. “He is a friend of yours?”

“Yes. Leopold is a decorated war hero who helped defeat Napoleon. He is a brilliant strategist on the battlefield. His father is Lord President of the Privy Council and Duke of Kaulbach.”

“He is away at the moment?”

“Yes, traveling abroad.”

Alexandra leaned closer, laid her hand upon Rand’s, and stroked his knuckles with the soft pad of her middle finger. “Is the marquess a married man?”

He gave her a dubious glance. “Why do you ask?”

She leaned back in her chair and lifted an eyebrow. “I have three unmarried sisters if you will recall, and he is quite a handsome man.”

Her husband smirked. “Are you trying to make me jealous, Wife?”

“That depends. Will it inspire you to put courtly matters aside at an earlier hour this evening, and join me for a different sort of celebration?”

He chuckled softly. “I need no further inspiration than the mere knowledge of your existence. And I thought it was duty, not celebration, that required us to engage in those particular frolics you so enjoy.”

“Can it not be both?”

They leaned together for a kiss but drew back when the Lord Chamberlain cleared his throat and announced the next visitor to the throne room.

At that moment, Alexandra caught Nicholas watching from the corner of the room. He swiped a hand at the velvet curtain at the window and walked out the side door.

*   *   *

Three hundred guests attended the banquet that evening—most of them of noble blood, as well as a few well-favored musicians, poets, and senior bishops.

After a sumptuous four-course dinner that included turtle soup, roast pheasant in brandy sauce, followed by raspberry rum cakes for dessert, the guests moved into the green and gold ballroom for dancing.

Randolph, dressed in his magnificent royal scarlet regalia with tasseled epaulets at his shoulders, led Alexandra onto the floor in the center of the room for the first dance of the evening.

While she waited for the music to begin she looked up at the giant crystal chandelier over her head. It reflected the light from hundreds of flickering candles, and she wondered if she should pinch herself, for her life seemed transformed.

She had never expected any of it to turn out quite like this. Even when she learned the Prince of Petersbourg was traveling to London in search of a wife, she had not known she would succeed in winning his hand, nor had she imagined she could ever be truly happy with him—for she had long been preparing herself for a loveless marriage she would be forced to endure in the name of duty and vengeance.

Yet here she stood, wildly passionate for her husband, who had proven himself to be a magnificent lover and an honorable gentleman.

Perhaps happy endings were possible after all, she thought with a smile as the orchestra began to play and her husband led her through a lively country dance. Afterward, they were rewarded with generous applause and shouts of approval.

“You are glowing tonight,” Randolph whispered in her ear as he led her off the floor.

“For once I feel as if I belong.”

Then they walked to meet his brother, Nicholas, and that sense of belonging died a quick death.

“Truly a night to remember,” Nick said with a chivalrous bow as he turned to Alexandra. “Your Majesty, will you do me the honor of accompanying me onto the floor?”

Her happy mood darkened further, for she had no choice but to accept. Placing her gloved hand in his, she allowed him to escort her to three couples waiting to perform a quadrille.

As the music began, the head couple moved through the figures, and Alexandra soon followed with Nicholas. As they finished their part he kept his eyes on the others while leaning close to speak to her.

“It seems you have bewitched my brother,” he said. “He is completely besotted.”

“As am I,” she replied. “Should that not always be the case with newlyweds?”

A group of men on the edges of the room burst into a chorus of laughter. Growing increasingly uneasy, Alexandra glanced over her shoulder at them.

“You have certainly kept him preoccupied,” Nicholas said.

She shot him a look. “Let us not be cryptic. What are you insinuating?”

They stepped apart and crossed over to the opposite dancers, changed partners, and came around to each other again.

“I am not insinuating anything,” he replied.

“I think you are. And if you believe any of what that unfortunate underbutler was gossiping about, I will question your intelligence, sir, for I am in love with the king and I wish only to be a dutiful queen. So I beg of you, do not spoil his happiness, or mine, for that matter, with your unfounded suspicions.”

They turned to opposite partners and stepped forward into the center.

“I am only taking care of his best interests,” Nicholas replied. “As is my duty.”

“Perhaps you should make it your duty to look out for
my
best interests as well,” she suggested. They moved around the circle together. “Because I am not unconscious of the fact that I have enemies in this country. I know how my father was despised in the final months of his reign, so do not assume, sir, that I mean to repeat his mistakes. I am your brother’s queen and loyal to the end. Take me at my word on that.”

The dance came to an end, but they remained in the center of the floor while the other dancers cleared away.

“How can I,” he asked, “when you have achieved your position through deceit?”

She scoffed. “Is that not the pot calling the kettle black? If I do recall, the night I met you, you were wearing your brother’s clothing.”

Other new couples began to crowd onto the floor, so he escorted her back to her stepmother. With a courtly bow, he turned and walked away.

“He doesn’t like me,” Alex said to Lucille.

The duchess watched him leave with a haughty note of disdain. “Well, I do not like him either,” she replied. “He is too confident in his good looks, and seems hell-bent on assuming that anyone new who enters this court is an enemy of the king. You should have heard how he questioned Nigel tonight.”

“Mr. Carmichael is here?” Alex asked, surprised.

She blushed. “Yes. Randolph was very generous and extended an invitation to him, and I dearly hope that later this evening we may have an announcement to make.”

“What sort of announcement?”

Lucille’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction. “The very best sort a woman can hope for, of course.”

“You intend to marry him?” Alex had not expected this.

Lucille turned to her with dismay. “Surely you cannot be surprised, nor could you possibly object. You owe him a great debt, Alexandra. If not for him, you would not even be here. We would both still be back in that putrid little cottage in Wales, huddled around the fire while our tapers burned down to nothing.”

“Of course I am grateful,” she replied, “but I have learned many things since we arrived here, and I am quite certain that much of what Mr. Carmichael told us about the Revolution was not entirely true.”

Lucille regarded her with incredulity. “How so?”

“He made me believe that my father was a saint, and that he was removed from power by warmongers—I believe he once used the word ‘barbarians’—who wished only to seize my family’s wealth and position.”

“They were revolutionaries!” Lucille argued in his defense. “Are you forgetting what happened in Paris? The Reign of Terror? Would you wish that on King George, mad though he may be?”

“Of course not,” Alex replied. “But I am not certain that the people of Petersbourg were not somewhat justified in their grievances. They wanted change and progress, and my father was…”

Still with the same horror-stricken expression, Lucille pushed her to complete the thought: “He was
what
?”

“Stubborn,” Alex replied. “Perhaps also blind to what was happening beyond these palace walls—in the streets and in the private parlors of the common man. I can almost understand it. I have felt quite far removed from the world these past few weeks. You cannot deny that it is a fairy tale sort of existence here.”

“But I enjoy fairy tales,” Lucille argued. “Isn’t that what we all want? Is that not why you are so happy tonight?”

Alexandra flicked open her fan and waved it briskly in front of her face. “I do not deny that I feel very blessed, but it has nothing to do with dreams or fairy stories. My feet are planted quite firmly on the ground.”

They were interrupted in that moment by the Marquess of Cavanaugh, the handsome young aristocrat who had presented Randolph with a sword earlier in the day. He bowed elegantly to her. “Your Majesty, I trust you are enjoying yourself this evening.”

“Yes, my lord. And you?”

“Very much indeed.”

They watched the dancing for a moment; then she turned to the marquess. “Thank you for the wedding gift. It was most generous.”

“It was an item I knew the king would appreciate, but I fear it is not something for the queen to enjoy.”

She chuckled lightly. “One never knows. Perhaps I will have a use for it one day. Nevertheless, it will look very handsome on display in the Privy Council Chamber.”

They continued to watch the dancing; then Lucille noticed Mr. Carmichael enter the room and excused herself to go and greet him.

As soon as she was gone, Lord Cavanaugh turned to Alex. “If you will permit me, madam, I would like to offer another gift, again on behalf of my father.”

“What is it?” she asked. “And why did you not bring it to the throne room?”

“I did not feel it would be appropriate,” he replied, “for it is a portrait of your parents, in happier times.”

The air sailed out of her lungs, but she recovered quickly.

“I am not sure what your intentions are, my lord, but I do hope this is not a secret gift, for I cannot keep secrets from my husband.”

His blue eyes warmed. “Rest assured that I have already spoken to the king about the portrait and he suggested I handle it with…”—he paused—“
discretion,
for there are some who may not approve of such a gift. The country wishes to embrace the future, not the past, and the king is aware of that.”

She glanced toward her husband. “I see. Well then, I must apologize for suggesting otherwise. May I ask how you came into possession of the portrait?”

He led her away from others who might be listening. “My father and your father were close friends since early childhood. The portrait was a gift to my parents on their wedding day, and has been kept safely hidden at my father’s country estate all these years. But now that you have come home, we believe its rightful place is with you.”

She reached out to touch Lord Cavanaugh’s arm. “Thank you, my lord. I will treasure it always.”

He bowed to her. “I am pleased to hear it, and have already taken the liberty of having it delivered to your chamber. It will be waiting for you when you retire this evening.”

The marquess turned to go, but she stopped him. “Wait. My husband said your father is chief officer of the Privy Council, and has held that position for many years.”

Cavanaugh spoke in a hushed tone. “Yes, and it wasn’t always easy for him after what happened to your family. But we put all that behind us and placed duty above all. We pledged an oath to King Frederick and are loyal subjects.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But know this, madam. Despite appearances, you have many friends here at court, even among the New Regime. In our hearts, a great number of us are celebrating your return.”

She nodded at him. “Thank you.”

She would endeavor to remember that. Especially when her husband’s brother was accusing her of seduction and deceit.

With a great show of respect, Lord Cavanaugh bowed and backed away.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Alexandra closed her bedchamber door behind her and stared at the gift leaning against the side of her bed—a large package half the size of the mattress and wrapped in fine white linen, tied up in a blue satin ribbon.

Having already dismissed her ladies-in-waiting—for she wished to be alone to unveil the portrait—she moved closer to the bed and took a deep breath. With hands that trembled slightly, she pulled the delicate ribbon free and unfolded the fabric away from the canvas.

The fire crackled and sparked in the hearth while she beheld the handsome couple before her. Her mother was young and vibrant, not much older than Alexandra was today. She was seated in a gilded ceremonial chair and wore a heavy brocade gown and powdered wig. On her finger she wore the ruby ring.

Alex’s father was a fine-looking man, also in a powdered wig. He stood behind the queen and stared dreamily into space, while the queen kept her eyes fixed on the artist with an expression of bold confidence.

Or perhaps it was a look of warning?

A knock sounded at the door just then. Startled almost out of her wits, Alexandra swung around. “Who is it?”