Be My Prince (3 page)

The gentleman said nothing. He seemed rather taken aback, and Alexandra wanted to sink through the ground. What had she been thinking? It was unseemly to reveal such intimate details to a complete stranger in the dark when she was duty bound to be inside seducing a prince—not only to secure a better future for herself and her sisters but also to avenge her true family and embrace her destiny as the rightful sovereign of Petersbourg.

“What happened to your real mother?” the man asked, proving himself to be a very bad influence, continuing to ask such personal questions.

My real mother died tragically in exile, shortly after giving birth to me.

“The duchess died when my youngest sister was born. Our father remarried my stepmother a year later, but there were no children from that union. I am sorry, but I must go. Good night, sir.” She hurried past him to return to the ballroom.

“Wait.” He turned to follow. “Will you dance with me?”

She glanced down at his muddy boots. “You’re not dressed.”

“I can be,” he replied. “Just say yes and I will arrange a proper introduction.”

Alexandra hesitated. “I am here to dance with the prince.”

“So you’ve already said.”

A spark of heady anticipation seeped into her blood as she imagined waltzing with this man … setting her gloved hand upon his shoulder … following his movements across the floor.…

“You’re going to get in my way, aren’t you?” she asked.

“In the way of your mercenary ambitions to marry a royal?” His eyes burned into hers. “I thought you said you’d settle for a clerk or a merchant if it meant you could marry for love.”

Alexandra lifted her chin. “I did say that, but I must think of my sisters. As much as I would like to, I cannot settle for less, so please do not upset things.”

He spread his arms wide as if to profess his innocence. “A dance. That is all I ask.”

She should have taken more time to weigh the particulars, but an answer spilled past her lips before she could think it through. “Fine, but please say nothing to anyone about our conversation here. I’ve stayed too long as it is.”

The instant she reentered the ballroom, her stepmother came quickly to her side.

“Where were you, Alexandra? The Duke of Wentworth has been engaging me in conversation. I could not break away, and I was consumed with worry that you had been abducted by some imperial spy in the garden.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. I only required a bit of fresh air. That is all.”

But in all honesty she
had
been abducted—in the proverbial sense at least—by a handsome horseman in the shadows with a quiet, husky voice and a very dangerous sensual appeal.

It was not until that moment that she realized he had not told her his name.

She hoped he would not come to the ball.

It would not be wise to see him again.

Chapter Three

Later that evening, Alexandra watched the prince lead another young lady through a country dance. Dressed in his striking scarlet regalia, he was a stunningly handsome man. A skilled dancer as well. There was no denying it.

The lady upon his arm at present, moving with him through the steps of the dance, appeared to be foolish with awe and infatuation. Clearly, the prince knew it. He was aware of his effect on women. He had a way of teasing them with his eyes. Alexandra would be next, she supposed.

Though in her case there was no danger of becoming infatuated, for her wounds ran deep, as did her scorn for this seditious family of usurpers.

Alexandra watched him escort his partner off the floor and prepared herself for her own encounter with him. She would not giggle and gape at him as all the others had. She knew the part she had to play, and she would play it well.

“Who is that man?” her stepmother asked the Duchess of Pembroke, who had been very kind to them that night while many of the other women had given Alexandra cold looks of disdain for daring to enter the race on such short notice.

“That is Prince Nicholas, Randolph’s younger brother,” the duchess replied.

Like a force of magic, Alex’s gaze swept to the door at the precise instant the name passed the duchess’s lips. It was
him.

He was dressed differently now, no longer windblown from a ride in the park, no longer muddied or in need of a shave. He was now elegantly attired in a dark green silk coat, cream knee breeches, and polished shoes, and his hair was combed and styled fashionably.

Alex watched him approach his brother and speak in a manner that revealed an intimate familiarity between them.

The duchess leaned a little closer. “He is Randolph’s private secretary as well, but I’ve heard rumors that he is a terrible royal.”

“How do you mean?” Lucille asked.

“He has a reputation with the ladies. And no wonder. With that face, not to mention everything else from the neck down, a woman could mislay her virtue simply by
looking
at him.”

Alexandra felt as if her breath had been cut off. The mysterious stranger from the terrace was Prince Randolph’s younger brother and private secretary? And a scoundrel on top of it all?

Good God!
She had stood in the shadows and carried on an intimate conversation with him. She had allowed him to flirt with her—surely that’s what he was doing when he touched her arm and told her he liked the sound of her voice.

Had he been testing her or attempting to weed out the women who only wished to better their circumstances? A woman such as she, who believed Randolph was “not a real prince.” A woman who had sisters to think of …

How could he not have revealed his status and position? What sort of bad character would entrap a lady in such a devious manner?

This was all a game to them, she realized. Nothing more. The very thought of it infuriated her.

At that precise moment, Randolph and Nicholas turned in her direction.

Randolph laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed, as if to thank him for something, and together they moved through the crowd.

“My word, they are coming this way,” Lucille whispered. “And what a pair they make.”

Lucille was referring of course to their extraordinary good looks. Together, side by side, they were a breathtaking force of elegance and charisma no other men in the room could rival.

Though she was anything but, Alex strove to maintain an appearance of calm as they came to stand before her. Prince Randolph was the first to speak.

“Duchess.” He bowed to the Duchess of Pembroke, then addressed Lucille. “Your Grace, if you would permit me to formally present my brother, Nicholas.”

There it was. The proper introduction, as promised.

Alex’s stepmother curtsied and turned to the other royal. “We are delighted to make your acquaintance, Your Royal Highness. This is my eldest stepdaughter, Lady Alexandra Monroe.”

He bowed to her. “It is an honor, my lady.”

Alexandra curtsied as well and felt a spark of furious heat flare through her. What was he playing at? Had the brothers already discussed and deciphered every word she had spoken on the terrace? Had Nicholas repeated everything?

The orchestra began a new piece, and Randolph held out a white-gloved hand. “If I do recall, Lady Alexandra, you were kind enough to promise me a dance. Shall we proceed to the floor?”

Maintaining a cool expression of confidence, she slipped her gloved hand into his. “Indeed we shall.”

Without a single glance back at his brother, she brushed past him and focused all her attention on the man who held the key to her future. The one who would wear the crown.

*   *   *

“Nicholas tells me this is your first London Season,” the prince said as they moved through the steps of a country dance.

“That is correct, and it has been a marvelous experience thus far. Tonight especially.”

He studied her with knowing eyes. “How so? Is it the food that has met with your approval? Or the music? The adornments perhaps.”

She took three steps toward him, keeping her eyes trained intensely on his the entire time. “It is the company that has held me captivated, sir, for I have lived too long away from society.”

“Ah. You are enjoying the conversation and the pleasure of meeting new people.”

“Yes, you have captured it exactly. New people.”

They performed a number of steps to and fro as they moved through the dance.

“Anyone in particular?”

He watched her steadily. His eyes were no longer playful but serious.

“Why
you
, of course,” she flirtatiously replied.

The prince took three steps back. “What a perfect answer. You flatter me.”

She studied his expression and realized that she had gone too far. This man had women throwing themselves at him from all angles, all night long, and here she was, doing the very same thing and not feeling the slightest bit genuine about it.

They moved around each other, and she took a moment to reorganize her line of attack, for she could not blunder this, or retreat in failure.

“I apologize,” she finally said. “That is what I was instructed to say to you. You must find this very difficult. There are many women here, behaving just so, competing for your attention.”

He took her hand and supported her in a turn. “Yes, there are, but apparently none quite as honest as you. They are either falling over themselves with giddiness or blatantly seducing me with their eyes. No one has yet confessed to having been
told
what to say.”

“Would you prefer that I seduce you?”

“No. I would prefer that you be yourself.”

“Honesty is always best,” she said.

“My sentiments exactly.”

They began another set of steps that repeated the opening.

“Since we are being honest…,” he said with a curious look in his eye, “tell me something.”

“Anything.”

He supported her through a turn. “What did you think of my brother, Nicholas? Now, now, let there be no secrets between us. He mentioned he met you on the terrace earlier and neglected to reveal his identity, which doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

Alexandra chose her words carefully. “That is true. I confess I felt somewhat …
deceived
just now when I saw him at your side.”

The prince spoke candidly. “Do not fault him, Lady Alexandra. He is my most trusted ally. And it wasn’t his intention to deceive you. He was only acting on my behalf, attempting to learn something about one of the ladies with whom I was to dance this evening.”

“Are you implying it was a test?”

He chuckled. “I suppose you could call it that.”

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her through another turn. “Did I pass?”

“With flying colors.”

Alexandra shot him a flirtatious glance. “I can’t imagine why.”

He smiled. “I’d wager it was your honesty.”

Though it was meant as a compliment, it cut her to the quick, for
honest
was the very last thing she was tonight.

She resolved, however, to feel no shame. Her true family had had far worse things done to them by others. It was her turn now to begin her own private revolution, and in doing so she would take no prisoners.

The dance came to an end, and the prince escorted her back to her stepmother. “Thank you,” he said to Lucille, “for the honor of the young lady’s company. Good evening to you all.”

With that, he turned and whispered something to his brother, then strode across the room to escort another partner onto the floor.

Evidently, Alex was a mere spark in a very bright line of would-be queens, which knocked her confidence down a notch.

Then suddenly that quiet, husky voice spoke close in her ear. “You look flushed, my lady,” Prince Nicholas said. “Is there anything I can do to relieve your distress? A glass of champagne perhaps?”

A flash of heat flared in her blood while Lucille gestured frantically behind his back to remind Alex that this incredibly desirable man was the future king’s key advisor in his pursuit of a wife, and she could not afford to refuse.

*   *   *

He is not the one I want,
she reminded herself over and over as she crossed the crowded ballroom on Prince Nicholas’s arm. It did little good, however, for no amount of rationalizing seemed powerful enough to douse the flames of agitation in her blood, kindled by the mere act of touching him.

Everything about him—his looks, his voice, the intensity of his presence—ignited a full-blown battle between her frustration with him and her true purpose here.

As soon as they arrived at the dessert table, he reached for a small plate. “What may I offer you, my lady? There is much to choose from. Cherries, nuts, apples, cream…”

Alex cleared her throat. “A glass of punch please.”

He moved to pick up two crystal glasses from a shiny silver tray and handed her one.

“You do realize,” he said, watching her carefully as she sipped, “that I am Randolph’s closest advisor. His first line of defense, if you will. His protector in all ways. He trusts me with every detail of his life.”

“What is your point, sir?”

His striking blue eyes narrowed. “I only wish to inform you that if you desire access to the future king, you will have to work very hard to win my favor.”

“And how should I accomplish that?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Struggling not to appear scandalized by his suggestive tone of voice, Alex asked, “Is it true then? Is he here to seek a wife? Why not someone from his own country?”

Nicholas plucked a grape from the fruit bowl and popped it into his mouth. “He attempted such a thing in the past but was ultimately disappointed. As you can see, he has a way with women. His rank and political power attract them like moths to a flame. There was a time he was easily swayed by romanticism and believed in it with all his heart, but unfortunately, he chose the wrong woman.”

She considered how best to reply. “I did hear something about that. He was engaged once before, was he not?”

“Correct. For a full year he believed himself to be in love, but a week before the wedding he found his future bride in the arms of another man. It turned out she was in love with him, but her parents pushed her to marry Randolph regardless, in order to better their own prospects. It was nothing but a game of power to them, and she was a pawn in many ways. Not that it mattered. Randolph was deceived, and he has not yet recovered from it. I am not certain he ever
will
recover.”