To Charm a Prince (27 page)

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Authors: Patricia Grasso

BOOK: To Charm a Prince
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If she wasn’t such a coward, she would pack her bag and run away. But how could she abandon Grant and Drake? They’d already had one mother abandon them.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Samantha knew who stood outside her door. The prince had come to reprimand her disrespect in front of others, not to apologize for his disrespect.

“Who is it?”

“May I come inside?”

“No.”

“I want to speak to you.”

“Then speak.”

“I cannot speak through the door,” Rudolf said. “Please.”

Samantha hesitated for a brief second but then unlocked the door. She opened it and stepped aside so he could enter.

“Leave it open.” She walked away from him.

“How do you feel?” Rudolf asked.

Samantha ignored his question. “Your Highness, what do you want?”

“I want to know how you feel.”

“Why?”

Rudolf shrugged. “For the usual reasons.”

“And those reasons would be?” she asked.

“Princess, you are carrying my child.”

“Please, Your Highness, do not remind me of my folly,” Samantha drawled, holding her hand up.

His lips quirked as if he wanted to smile. “I want to apologize for my rudeness,” Rudolf said. “I was hoping you would forgive me.”

“Forgive you for your rudeness?” Samantha asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or those balls you attended? Perhaps the opera?”

“Your sarcasm is understandable but unbecoming,” Rudolf said.

“Do yourself a favor,” she said. “Find yourself a bride who can’t read.”

“You sound like a jealous wife,” he remarked.

“I passed jealousy last week.”

“What lies beyond jealousy?”

“Dislike,” Samantha answered, unable to say the word hate. “I don’t like you.”

The man had the audacity to look hurt before he shuttered his expression. “In two weeks, you will be married to a man you dislike,” the prince told her. “Prepare yourself.” At that, he quit the chamber.

During the next two weeks, Samantha turned the tables on the prince by avoiding contact with him. The prince turned the tables on her by seeming to dog her every step. He didn’t speak to her unless she spoke to him, but his constant watching was beginning to unnerve her. She almost wished he would resume his social life.
Almost
.

Though confused by his behavior, Samantha knew one thing for certain. When the moment arrived, she could not walk down the aisle to marry a man who cared nothing for her.

 

*    *    *

 

He could not marry her unless she knew the truth. Rudolf knew that as surely as he knew his wedding day had arrived.

Early on April twenty-third, so early only the servants were up and about, Rudolf climbed the stairs to the third floor. He carried two objects for his betrothed. The first was a plate holding a piece of bread, and the other was a large velvet pouch containing the jeweled tiara his grandmother and his mother had worn on their wedding days.

Rudolf knew he loved Samantha but could never tell her. Once a woman knew a man’s tender feelings, she used them against him.

True, he hadn’t wanted to marry. Losing Olga had left him bitter. Had he ever been as idealistic about love as Samantha? If he had, he’d lost his innocence a long time ago, long before he’d even met Olga, probably when his father had his mother confined to the asylum.

Marrying Samantha under false pretenses would be unfair, Rudolf told himself as he walked down the third-floor corridor in the direction of her chamber. Poor Samantha had almost no choice about marrying him. He would give her a choice this morning, though. There was no other alternative for him because he couldn’t live with her unless she could live with the truth. He had stayed away from her this past month deliberately because he knew this moment would come.

Without bothering to knock, Rudolf opened her door and crossed the chamber to her bed to leave her bread as he’d done each morning. Only this day was different.

She was awake.

“What are you doing?”

Rudolf sat on the edge of the bed and offered her the bread. She sat up, leaned against the headboard, and lifted the bread off the plate.

“You left me the bread each morning?”

Rudolf inclined his head. “We must discuss a matter of some importance before we marry.”

Samantha set the bread aside and waited for him to speak.

“I am going to tell you something,” Rudolf said, staring into her eyes. “Afterward, I will not object if you want to cancel the wedding. My own preference is to marry and then divorce once the babe is delivered.”

He was frightening her. Was he trying to get rid of her before she even married him?

A woman’s wedding day was one of life’s milestones and should be one of her happiest memories. Apparently, that was not to be. Heartache and anguish, two of her oldest acquaintances, had walked into the room with the prince. She should have known this moment would come. He hadn’t wanted to marry her.

Samantha watched the prince stand and cross the chamber to gaze out the window. He couldn’t even look at her as he let her down.

Rudolf turned around. “I am not the man you think l am.”

“You aren’t Prince Rudolf Kazanov?”

“I meant, I am not my father’s son,” Rudolf explained. “I am a bastard.”

Samantha closed her eyes against the pain etched across his face as a soft moan escaped her lips. His startling revelation explained many puzzling things. Now she knew why the prospect of fathering a bastard had upset him, why his brother wanted the Kazanov Venus, why his mother had been locked in an insane asylum.

Opening her eyes to look at him, Samantha felt her heart breaking. The prince had turned his back on her and stood facing the window. Pride made him keep his head held high and his shoulders squared, but he seemed so alone.

“Which will it be, Samantha?” Rudolf asked, without looking at her. “Shall we cancel the wedding, or divorce after you deliver the babe?” When she remained silent, he continued, “If you cancel the wedding, I will support you and the child for as long as you live. Money is no problem.”

Samantha knew she needed to choose her words carefully. Her prince was in pain but needed to be soothed with no trace of pity. She slid out of the bed and padded on bare feet across the chamber.

Samantha prayed for the correct words. If he thought she pitied him, their marriage would be over before it began.

“Well, Samantha? Has my bastardy shocked you into silence?”

“No, Your Highness,” Samantha said, standing directly behind him. “What has shocked me is your
stupidity
.”

Rudolf whirled around. They stood mere inches apart, and she could see how tense he was. “I beg your pardon?”

With her open hand, Samantha slapped him hard. “I hope that knocks some sense into you.”

“I understand your anger,” Rudolf said, narrowing his gaze on her. “You have not answered my question.”

“You understand nothing.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Neither of your choices appeals to me,” Samantha said. “Is there a third?”

She saw his jaw and facial muscles relax. When he spoke, his voice sounded less strained. “The third choice is to marry until death us do part.”

“That’s the one I want,” she told him.

He wasn’t ready to believe her. She saw that right away.

Rudolf searched her eyes for the truth. “Are you being kind to me?”

“Why should I be kind to a man who hasn’t been kind to me?” Samantha countered.

“Do you feel sorry for me?”

“Why should I feel sorry for you?” she asked, sounding annoyed. “I’m the cripple who was forced to pick pockets in order to eat. I’d trade my limp for your bastardy any day of the week.”

He believed her. She could see it in his eyes.

With a groan of relief, Rudolf yanked her into his arms. He lowered his head to kiss her, but she held up her hand.

“Your lack of trust offends me,” Samantha told him.

“Forgive my lapse in judgment,” Rudolf said, a smile touching his lips. “How can I make it up to you?”

Love me.
“Stop attending balls and operas without me.”

Rudolf laughed. His mouth covered hers, pouring all of his need into that soul-stealing kiss.

“I love you,” Samantha told him.

Rudolf held her tightly, his arms encircling her, as if he would never let her go. “I do not deserve your love.”

Samantha felt her heart breaking. She needed to hear those words from him.

Resting her head against his chest, Samantha said, “That was why your father preferred Vladimir.”

“Yes.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Let’s toss Venus into the Thames.”

“I could never do that,” Rudolf said. “Perhaps I should give it to Vladimir.”

“If you give it to him,” Samantha said, “I won’t marry you.”

Amusement lit his dark eyes. “Why?”

“Vladimir is unworthy of such a gift,” Samantha answered. “Besides, if the medallion is true to legend, think of all the little Vladimirs we will be setting loose on an unsuspecting world.”

Rudolf smiled but then grew serious. “There is another matter.”

Samantha gazed into his dark eyes and waited. Nothing could shock her now.

“I know the identity of my natural father,” he told her.

“And?”

“The Duke of Inverary sired me.”

Samantha swayed dizzyingly on her feet but managed to fight off a swoon. “Does he know?”

“Yes, but I prefer to keep it a secret because”—he dropped his hand to her belly— “because of my children.”

“No wonder he refused to cancel the wedding when I asked,” Samantha said. “His Grace wanted wonderful me to marry his son.”

“You are wonderful.” His lips touched hers.

The door swung open, admitting Aunt Roxie, who cried, “Your Highness, what are you doing here? Seeing the bride before the ceremony is bad luck in the extreme.”

“I have a feeling that my bad luck days are gone forever.” Rudolf looked at her aunt, adding, “I brought my bride something I want her to wear today.”

Putting his arm around her, Rudolf drew her across the chamber. Lifting the velvet pouch off the bed, he produced a jeweled tiara, encrusted with diamonds, sapphires, and other precious gems.

“My grandmother and my mother wore this tiara when they married,” Rudolf said. “Will you wear this as your headdress?”

“You know I will.”

Rudolf raised her hands to his lips. “I will see you at the church.”

 

*    *    *

 

At ten o’clock that morning, Samantha stood in the nave of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. With her were her aunt and the duke. The sounds of violins playing wafted through the air to her.

Samantha wore her mother’s wedding gown of white silk, embroidered with seed pearls. Its bodice had a squared neckline and long, flowing sleeves. On her head was the jewel-encrusted tiara, and in her badly shaking hands, a bouquet of orange blossoms.

“Aunt Roxie, does my belly stick out?” Samantha asked. “I wouldn’t want anyone to guess the reason for this hasty marriage.”

“You look radiant, my darling,” her aunt gushed. “Oh, I cannot believe my sweet Samantha will be a princess.”

“Well, my dear, she won’t be a princess if you don’t take your seat,” Duke Magnus said.

Her aunt left, and the duke escorted Samantha to the head of the aisle. Hundreds of guests filled the cathedral, lit by thousands of candles.

Samantha stared down the aisle. It seemed a great distance to traverse with all of those guests, mostly strangers, watching her.

“Are you ready, my dear?” Duke Magnus asked.

Samantha shook her head. She looked at him with anguished eyes. “I can’t go down that aisle.”

“Samantha, I know you love Rudolf and want to marry him,” the duke said in a soothing voice.

“I do love him, Your Grace, but walking down that aisle in front of all those people terrifies me.”

“My dear, the only way to reach the prince is down that aisle.”

Samantha shifted her gaze from the duke to the aisle. Then she nodded and placed her hand in his.

Holding her hand in a firm grip, Duke Magnus gently forced her forward. If she wanted to stop, she would need to struggle.

Samantha felt dizzy. Fright and the babe made her feel queasy. Ignoring the sea of faces turned toward her, she kept her gaze on Rudolf standing at the altar with the Bishop of London.

He was watching her. Though the prince wouldn’t give voice to the words, Samantha saw the love shining at her from his eyes.

Startling her and everyone else in the cathedral, Prince Rudolf took the unprecedented action of walking ten paces down the aisle to meet her. He raised her hand to his lips and smiled. “Hello, Princess. Are you ready to become my wife?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Samantha returned his smile, a high blush staining her cheeks.

The cathedral resounded with a collective sigh from those ladies within hearing distance. The groom and the bride ignored them, as if they were the only two people in the world.

When the bishop cleared his throat, Rudolf escorted Samantha to the altar. The Bishop of London smiled at her and opened his prayer book.

“Dearly beloved,” the bishop began, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, to join together this man and this woman . . .

“. . . therefore if any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

“I can show just cause,” called a voice from somewhere behind them.

Rudolf and Samantha whirled around. Samantha saw a strikingly beautiful blonde, richly dressed, advancing down the aisle. She walked with grace and confidence.

“Who are you?” the bishop asked.

“I am Prince Rudolf’s wife,” the blonde answered. “I believe that is just cause.”

Samantha stepped back two paces as if she’d been struck. She heard her aunt’s and her sisters’ gasps, mutterings from the duke and the marquess, and the excited murmurings of several hundred guests.

The prince’s wife was alive and standing here. Samantha wished she could swoon to escape her humiliation and loss.

“Olga,” Rudolf said.

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