The Accidental Princess (4 page)

Her hair had fallen loose from its pins, and the dark honey locks rested against his cheek, smelling sweetly of jasmine. He’d heard that some women suffered from headaches as excruciating as this one, but he’d never witnessed it before. Nonetheless, her unexpected illness had probably saved her from Belgrave’s unwanted attentions. It was a blessing in that sense.

The night air was cold, but Hannah’s body heat kept him warm. His neck and shoulders were stiff, but that didn’t bother him. She was no longer in pain, and he was grateful for it.

It had been a gruelling experience, one he didn’t care to repeat. He was unbearably alert, attuned to Hannah in a way he’d never expected. Against his chest, he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing.

There would be hellish consequences. And yet he wouldn’t have changed what he’d done. He’d rescued her from that bastard Belgrave and protected her innocence. She could go
into her future marriage as an untouched bride, the way she should. That is, if he could get her home without anyone realising where she’d spent the last hour or two.

He had his doubts.

Michael watched her sleeping, the strands of hair twining around her throat and spilling over the curve of her breasts. Her beauty stole his breath away.

Innocence and purity. Everything he didn’t deserve.

From his pocket, he withdrew the strand of diamonds and fastened them around her throat. Bare skin peeped from the open back of her dress where he’d loosened her corset. He wanted to kiss her, to run his mouth over that silken skin. Like forbidden fruit, she tempted him to taste.

Only a few hours ago, he’d touched her back, indulging himself in a bit of wickedness. She’d allowed him liberties he never should have taken.

Not for you,
his brain warned.

An honourable man would leave her alone to sleep, taking the reins and driving her home again. He wouldn’t run his palms over her arms, watching her skin tighten with gooseflesh. A good man would ignore the seductive glimpses of female skin and set his baser urges under control.

But he wasn’t good. He wasn’t honourable. Right now, he’d been given a few stolen moments with this woman. And he intended to take them.

Michael lowered his mouth to her shoulder blade, tracing the fragile skin up to her nape. Hannah shivered, lifting her face towards his as she awakened from sleep. He took possession of her softened mouth, not asking for permission.

Hannah awoke with her body temperature rising, as though she were suffering from a fever. The Lieutenant was kissing her, and she was sitting in his lap.

She couldn’t move from the shock of feelings coursing
through her. No man had ever kissed her before, and she trembled beneath the onslaught. It was as though he were starving for her, his mouth hot and hungry.

His tongue slid inside her mouth, caressing her intimately. Hannah had never imagined such a thing, and desire poured through her, making her skin hotter.

Push him away. Beg for him to stop.

But her mind was disconnected from her body, once again. She felt herself arching towards him, needing to be closer. His hands slipped beneath the open back of her gown, and dimly she remembered the Lieutenant unlacing her, to help her breathe easier.

The touch of his bare hands on her skin made her cry out, ‘No! Stop, please.’

The remnants of her headache pressed into her, and tears spilled out. Not because of his unexpected kiss, but because of her guilt. He’d evoked shameful feelings inside of her, arousing her. And though she wanted to lay the blame at his feet, she knew in her heart that she couldn’t. She’d allowed him to kiss her, to touch her in ways that no good girl would allow.

‘I’m not going to apologise for that.’ His voice was low and deep, a man who had seized what he’d wanted. ‘You kissed me back.’

‘I didn’t want to.’

Liar. An aching throbbed within her womb. She felt damp, restless. The touch of his hard body against her pliant flesh was almost too much to bear.

‘Yes, you did.’ The the Lieutenant broke away, his breathing harsh. He moved to the opposite side of the carriage, resting his wrists on his knees. His head hung down, dark hair shadowing his face. He looked as though he’d been in a fist fight. ‘I need to drive you home.’

‘Please.’ She tried to hold the back of her gown together,
but the edges wouldn’t hold. Exposed to him, she wanted to die of embarrassment.

‘I’ll help you get dressed,’ he said. ‘You’ll never manage by yourself.’

‘I don’t want you to touch me,’ she snapped. ‘Take me back.’

‘What do you think your father will say when he sees you like this?’

‘You should be more worried about yourself,’ she countered. ‘He’ll want to kill you.’

The the Lieutenant sent her a patronising smile. ‘For saving your virtue?’

‘You’re the one who tried to attack me just now.’

‘Sweet, I’m not a man who has to attack anyone.’ He pulled his coat from the carriage door, and Hannah winced at the flash of light from one of the street lamps.

She said nothing, her thoughts drifting back and forth, trying to decide whether he was a rogue or a man of honour. Yes, he’d kissed her when he shouldn’t have. But he’d also taken care of her.

Though he should have brought her home immediately, he’d listened when she’d begged him to stop the carriage. The excruciating, jarring sensation from the horses had made each mile an unending torture.

Another man wouldn’t have done the same. He’d have ignored her needs, riding as fast as he dared, back to Rothburne House. But not the Lieutenant.

So many questions gathered up, needing to be asked. Hannah traced her swollen lips, wondering what had driven him to do such a thing.

‘You don’t need to be afraid of me,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m not going to kiss you again.’ His cravat was loosened from his collar, while he donned the ill-fitting jacket.

‘I should hope not.’

He raised his gaze to hers, and she caught a glimpse of
green eyes with flecks of brown. His cheeks held a light stubble, and for a moment, she wondered why the texture hadn’t scratched her skin.

‘You really are an innocent, aren’t you?’ He glanced over her ivory silk gown, and the remark didn’t sound like a compliment.

‘I suppose. You speak of it as though it’s a bad thing.’

He glanced outside the carriage window, as if searching for someone. ‘It’s what most men want.’

‘But not you.’

A dark laugh escaped him. ‘I’m not a good man at all.’

She didn’t entirely believe that. ‘Please take me home,’ she reminded him. ‘My family will be worried.’

‘Turn around,’ he ordered.

She knew what he needed to do, but she hesitated to let him touch her corset. It didn’t matter that he’d already done so; she’d been half out of her mind with pain. ‘No, it isn’t proper.’

The Lieutenant didn’t listen to her argument, but forced her to turn around. His hands fumbled with the stays, pulling them tight before tying them. ‘Proper or not, I won’t let your father think I ravaged you in a carriage.’

He was right. Her father would be angry enough at both of them, without him drawing the wrong conclusions.

‘How long have we been gone, do you think?’ Her stomach didn’t feel right, and her head still ached.

‘Longer than an hour. Two or three, perhaps. It isn’t dawn yet.’ His large hands struggled with the tiny buttons, and she couldn’t help but be even more aware of him. He muttered, ‘I’m better at taking these off than buttoning them up.’

Hannah didn’t doubt that at all. When he’d finished, she rested her head against the side of the carriage, waiting for him to go back to the driver’s seat.

‘Are you feeling better?’ he asked.

‘I’ll manage.’ Thank heaven, it had been one of the shorter
headaches, swift and furious. The after-effects would dwell with her for a while, but the worst was over.

‘What are you going to tell my father?’ she asked.

Michael opened the door to the carriage, leaving it slightly open. ‘The truth. Neither of us has done anything wrong.’

I have
, Hannah thought. The kiss might not mean a thing to him, but it had shaken her. The sensation of his mouth upon hers had been the most sinful thing she’d ever experienced. She’d fallen under his spell, wanting to know his touch in a way she shouldn’t.

Michael opened the carriage door the rest of the way, about to disembark, when they heard the sounds of men shouting and the rumble of another carriage approaching. Her father’s voice broke through the stillness, and within moments, he was standing in front of the door.

‘Are you all right?’ the Marquess demanded of Hannah.

Hannah gripped her hands together, cold fear icing through her. For she suspected the truth was not going to be enough to pacify her father.

‘G
et away from my daughter,’ the Marquess of Rothburne ordered.

Hannah tried to rise from her seat, but the Lieutenant motioned her back. With a horrifying clarity, she realised what her father must think. With a pleading look she insisted, ‘Papa, this isn’t what it looks like. Lieutenant Thorpe rescued me from Lord Belgrave.’

Though she tried to find the right explanation, her father looked more interested in murder than the truth.

Hannah continued talking, though she knew how unlikely it must sound. ‘Lieutenant Thorpe tried to bring me home but…I had one of my headaches. I didn’t have any laudanum, and the pain was unbearable. He obeyed me when I ordered him to stop the carriage.’

Her father gave no indication that he’d even heard her speaking, but gave a nod to one of his footmen. The large servant reached to seize hold of the Lieutenant, but Michael’s hand shot out and stopped him. With a twist to the man’s wrist, the footman had no choice but to release him.

‘Enough.’ The Lieutenant climbed down from the carriage and regarded the Marquess. ‘Instead of having this conversa
tion here in the park, I suggest we return to Rothburne House. Take Lady Hannah home with you, and see to her health. I will follow in this carriage.’

‘I should have the police drag you off to Newgate right now,’ the Marquess countered.

‘He didn’t dishonour me, Papa.’ Hannah moved forward, but when she exited the carriage, the world tipped. A rushing sound filled her ears, and Michael caught her elbow, steadying her. ‘I swear it. He protected me while I was ill.’

‘Because of him, you may be ruined.’ Her father stared at her as though she’d just run off with a chimney sweep. ‘You just spent the night with a common soldier.’

But she hadn’t. Not really. Heated tears sprung up in her eyes, for she didn’t know how to respond to her father’s accusations. Never could she have imagined he’d be this unreasonable.

A defence leapt to her lips, but Lieutenant Thorpe shook his head. ‘As I said before, this is not the place to talk. Take Lady Hannah home.’

Hannah had never heard anyone issue an order to her father before, but the Lieutenant didn’t appear intimidated by the Marquess.

‘No one knows about this,’ she whispered. ‘My reputation is still safe.’

‘Is it?’ Her father’s face was iron-cast. ‘The Baron of Belgrave knows all about what happened to you. Nonetheless, he has graciously offered to wed you.’

She’d rather die than wed Belgrave. ‘Papa, it isn’t as bad as all that. Lieutenant Thorpe did nothing wrong.’

‘Belgrave informed me that Thorpe assaulted him and took you away in a stolen carriage.’

‘That lying blackguard,’ Hannah blurted out, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Insults wouldn’t help her cause.

Horrified, she met her father’s infuriated expression, hoping he wouldn’t believe the lies. Surely he would trust her,
after all the years she’d been an obedient daughter. One mistake wouldn’t eradicate everything, would it?

Thoughts of the Lieutenant’s forbidden kiss flayed her conscience. She could have fought him off, but instead, she’d kissed him back. It had been curiosity and shock, mingled together with the first stirrings of desire. She’d wanted to know what a real kiss would be like. But not at this terrible cost.

‘Harrison, take my daughter home,’ the Marquess commanded to his footman. ‘I will accompany Lieutenant Thorpe in this carriage.’

The Lieutenant gave an abrupt nod, and Hannah tried to fathom the man’s thoughts. His hazel eyes were shielded, his face expressionless.

She prayed that they could undo the mistake that had been made. Surely they could keep matters quiet. She’d been a victim and didn’t deserve to be punished like this. If anyone deserved to be drawn and quartered, it was Lord Belgrave.

As the footman closed the carriage door, Hannah twisted her hands together. Thank goodness the Lieutenant possessed no title. Were he an earl or a viscount, no doubt her father would demand that he marry her.

As a common officer in the British Army, that would never happen. She should feel relieved, but her nerves wound tighter. Her father was so angry right now, he might do something rash.

And she didn’t know what that might be.

‘You should know that the only thing that prevents me from killing you where you stand is the fact that I don’t want your blood staining my carpet.’ The Marquess of Rothburne pointed to a wingback chair in his study. ‘Sit.’

‘I am not your dog,’ Michael responded. He was well aware that he was only tossing oil upon the fire of James Chesterfield’s rage, but he refused to behave as if he’d seduced Lady Hannah.

Kissed her, yes. But that wasn’t a crime.

Michael rested his forearms upon the back of the chair and met the Marquess’s gaze squarely. ‘I don’t regret rescuing Lady Hannah from the Baron of Belgrave. You know as well as I that the man isn’t worthy of her.’

‘And neither are you.’

‘You’re right.’ There was no reason to take offence at the truth. He possessed enough to live comfortably on his army salary, but it wasn’t enough to support a Marquess’s daughter. He didn’t want a wife, or any family who would rely upon him.

‘Because of you, her reputation is destroyed.’

‘No.’ Michael drew closer to the desk, resting his hands upon the carved wood. ‘Because of Belgrave. Were it not for him, she’d never have been taken from Rothburne House.’

‘You should have brought her home immediately!’ The Marquess’s face was purple with wrath.

He knew it. But she’d been in such pain, he hadn’t wanted to make it worse. At the time, he’d thought it would only be for a short while—not hours. Perhaps he should have driven her home, despite the agony she would have endured. Still, it did no good to dwell upon events he couldn’t change.

‘She’s had headaches like that one before, hasn’t she?’ Michael said softly. ‘She told me she keeps laudanum in her reticule.’

‘That is beside the point.’

‘Is it? I presume you’ve seen how much she suffers? That any form of light or sound gives her pain beyond all understanding? I’ve seen men take a bullet through their shoulder and suffer less than what I saw her endure.’

He didn’t add that there were moments when he’d wondered if she was going to die. She’d been so pale, in such agony.

‘Even if what you say is true, it doesn’t change the fact that you stayed with her alone for hours.’ James reached out for a letter opener, running his finger along the edge. ‘She is my only daughter. My youngest child.’

‘This wasn’t her fault.’ Yet, Michael didn’t see a clear solution. It wasn’t fair for Hannah to endure the sly gossip of the society matrons, nor to be shunned if word got out.

‘No, it’s yours.’ The Marquess folded his arms, adding, ‘Don’t think that I would allow a man like you to wed her. You won’t touch a penny of her inheritance.’

Michael stepped back, his anger barely controlled. Keeping his voice steady, he said, ‘I don’t want anything from either of you. She was in trouble, and I went to help her. Nothing more.’

The Marquess set his pen down. ‘I want you to leave England. I don’t want her to ever set eyes upon you again.’ Picking up his pen, he began writing. ‘I am going to ask your commanding officer to see to it. I’ll contribute enough funds to the Army to make sure you stay far away from London.’

Michael didn’t doubt that the Marquess’s money would accomplish anything the man wanted. ‘And what will happen to Lady Hannah?’

The Marquess set down his pen. ‘Belgrave has offered to wed her.’

‘No. Not him.’ Michael clenched his fist. ‘You would offer her up to a man like that?’

‘There is nothing wrong with Belgrave. He’s going to keep Hannah’s reputation safe.’

‘You mean he’s going to reveal the scandal to everyone if she doesn’t wed him,’ Michael guessed.

The Marquess didn’t deny it. ‘I won’t let my daughter be hurt. Not if I can prevent it from happening.’

Hannah had seen her mother cry before, but never like this. Usually Christine Chesterfield used her tears to dramatic effect, whenever her husband wouldn’t let her opinion sway him.

This time, Christine simply covered her mouth with her hand while the tears ran down her cheeks. Hannah sat across from her, while two cups of tea went cold. The grandfather
clock in the parlour chimed eight o’clock. Eight hours was all it had taken to change her life completely.

‘I promise you, Mother, I am fine,’ Hannah murmured. ‘Neither of them compromised me.’ She refused to cry, for the shock was still with her. ‘I don’t know what else to say, when you won’t accept the truth.’

‘This isn’t about truth.’ Christine dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘It’s about appearances.’

‘It will be all right,’ Hannah insisted. ‘My friends will believe me, if they hear rumours. They know ‘I would never do anything of that nature.’ She stood up, pacing across the carpet. ‘I don’t see why we cannot simply tell everyone what happened.’

Christine blew her nose. ‘You are far too naïve, my dear. We can’t risk any of this scandal leaking to anyone.’

‘I am not ruined.’

‘You are. Your only hope of salvaging what’s left of your honour is to marry Lord Belgrave and to do so quickly.’

‘I will not marry that horrid man. He’s the reason all of this happened!’ Hannah arranged her skirts, tucking her feet beneath them. ‘He kidnapped me from my own home, Mother! Why won’t you believe me?’

Her mother only shook her head sadly. ‘I believe you, Hannah. But the greater problem is that you spent hours alone in a carriage with a soldier. Lord Belgrave is right: nothing will cover up that scandal, if it gets out.’

But no one knew about it, except…

‘He’s threatening you,’ Hannah predicted, suddenly realising the truth. ‘Belgrave plans to tell everyone about the scandal unless I wed him. Is that it?’

Her mother’s face turned scarlet. ‘We won’t let that happen.’

Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her parents were allowing themselves to be manipulated for her sake.

Christine avoided looking at her. ‘You have nothing to fear from the baron, Hannah. I believe him when he says he has
nothing but remorse for his actions. He wants to start again, and I think you should give him a second chance.’

‘I’d rather kiss a toad.’

‘He is coming to pay a call on you tomorrow. And you
will
see him and listen to what he has to say.’

Without meeting Hannah’s incredulous gaze, Christine retrieved a sheet of paper from a writing desk and chose a pen. Hannah clenched her fingers together, for she knew her mother was composing another list.

‘Mother, no,’ she pleaded. ‘There has to be another way. Perhaps I could go to Falkirk with Stephen and Emily.’ Her brother would offer her the sanctuary of his home without question.

‘They have already left, early this morning,’ her mother said. ‘And your brother has enough to worry about with Emily due to give birth in a few weeks. He doesn’t know what happened last night, and we are not going to tell him until it’s all sorted out.’

Her mother handed her the list, and walked her to the door. ‘Now. Go to your room and rest until eleven o’clock. When you rise, wear your rose silk gown with the high neck and pagoda sleeves. We will discuss your future over luncheon. The baron will come to call upon you tomorrow to discuss the arrangements.’

‘I don’t want to see that man again, much less marry him,’ Hannah insisted.

‘You no longer have a choice. You’d best get used to the idea, for your father is making the arrangements now. You’ll be married within a week.’

After her mother’s door closed, Hannah stormed down the stairs, her shawl falling loose from her shoulders. There was no hope of finding sleep, not now.

With a brief glance at the list, she saw her mother’s orders.

1. Rest until eleven o’clock.
   
2. Wear the rose silk gown.
   
3. Drink a cup of tea with cream, no sugar, to calm your nerves.
   

Hannah read the list three times, her hands shaking. Her entire life, she’d done everything her parents had asked. She had studied her lessons, listened to her governesses and done everything she could to please her family.

It made her stomach twist to see them turn against her this way. Her parents no longer cared about her future happiness—only their reputations.

Though she was supposed to return to her room, she kept moving towards the gardens. Tears of rage burned down her cheeks. All her years of being good meant nothing if she had to wed a man like Belgrave.

The list no longer held the familiarity of a mother’s love, helping her to remember the tasks at hand. Instead, it was a chain, tightening around her neck.

Hannah crumpled up the paper and threw it into the shrubbery. Rules, rules and more rules. Once, she’d thought that, by obeying the rules, her reward would come.

Did her mother truly expect her to wed the man who had caused her such misery? She’d sooner drown herself in the Thames than marry Belgrave.

She stumbled through the garden, the remnants of her headache rising up again. Why? Why did this have to happen to her? Only yesterday, she’d had so many choices before her. Now, she had nothing at all.

Hannah wrapped her arms around her waist, as if holding the pieces of herself together. With each step forward, she released the sobs, letting herself have a good cry. She wandered down the gravel pathway, to the place where she had lost her necklace last night.

Unexpectedly, her hand rose to her throat. The diamonds were there. The Lieutenant must have returned the necklace to her early this morning. She didn’t remember him wrapping the strand around her neck, for most of the night had been a blur of pain.

After she’d been abducted, the baron had grown flustered at her illness, demanding that she cease her tears. He’d cursed at her, but she’d been unable to stop weeping.

Then the Lieutenant had rescued her. He’d covered up all light, keeping her warm. Not speaking a sound. Holding her in the darkness.

Hannah pulled her shawl around her shoulders. She didn’t know what to think of him. One minute, he’d been her saving grace, and the next, he’d stolen a kiss.