The Accidental Prince. Michelle Willingham
of her future plans. Instead, she’d been taken to this place with a man she hardly knew.
The prince gave orders for Samuel and Bernard to light the fireplaces within the dining room and to prepare two chambers. While they departed, he turned to face her. ‘It was never my intention to bring you to a place so unprepared for our arrival.’
‘Then what was your intent?’ Her voice came out with a tremble that revealed her fear. It wasn’t so much the poor conditions of the house, but more, that she didn’t know this stranger standing before her. Her betrothed husband was staring with a look that reached deep inside, as if he were taking her measure.
‘I’ve already given you that answer.’
To become better acquainted. But what did he mean? Was he intending to seduce her? It felt as if she’d run from one set of problems, only to encounter something worse.
‘Stay away from me, Fürst Karl,’ she warned. She wanted to run far away from him, to hide herself. But she knew she couldn’t escape. The fear inside mingled with another unfamiliar sensation. The blood rushed to her face, while her body grew colder from the chill of her damp clothing.
‘You’re afraid of me.’ His voice resonated in the stillness, his breath clouded in the air. He reached for her gloved hand, but when she tried to pull it back, he held it captive.
‘I don’t know you.’ Her voice came out in a slight whisper, revealing every bit of her fear.
In response, his grasp upon her hand softened. His thumb slipped beneath one of her glove buttons, stroking her skin. She jerked her hand away, shocked that he would take such a liberty.
‘You will,’ he said quietly, releasing her hand.
What if I don’t want to? she thought. Everything about the prince made her uncomfortable, from his demanding presence to his rigid expression. She couldn’t deny her sister’s admission, that Karl was indeed handsome. His dark hair framed a strong, lean face. When she looked into his hazel eyes, flecks of green and brown mingled with hints of gold. And his firm mouth hadn’t smiled at all.
He reminded her of a highwayman, who had stolen her away to his private residence. Beneath her cloak, she gripped her arms, terrified of what would happen to her now.
Inside the house, the prince guided her through a series of sitting rooms until at last they reached the dining room. He pulled a chair beside the fire his footman had built. ‘Sit down and warm yourself.’
Serena sank gratefully into the chair, waiting for the tiny blaze to grow larger. The fürst left her side for a moment to give the footman another order for food and hot tea. Though she ought to be hungry, her stomach twisted at the thought of food. Right now, she wanted to be away from the prince, alone in a room where she could collect her thoughts. So much had changed so fast, she couldn’t quite grasp what to do.
‘I’m too tired to eat,’ she protested when the fürst returned. ‘Really, once I get warm, I’ll just go to my room and sleep.’ If she rested her head against the back of the Chippendale chair for even a moment, she thought she might fade into a dreamless exhaustion.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, but there was no satisfaction at having made her escape. Instead, she envisioned countless guards, searching every pathway, every road.
Her heart pulsed within her chest, though she tried to blot out the fear. She tried to comfort herself by imagining a steaming hot bath, a clean nightgown and a soft bed. There would be time to make plans in the morning after a good night’s rest.
A horrifying thought occurred to her. Without a staff here, she had no one to help her undress. Even worse … had Karl brought her trunk from the other coach? Did she have anything at all to wear?
‘I will need a ladies’ maid to attend me,’ she informed him. ‘Please send Bernard to find someone.’
‘It’s after midnight. I’ll send him to the village, first thing in the morning.’
‘No, not in the morning,’ she corrected. ‘Now.’
He sent her an annoyed look. ‘I’m certain you’ll survive one night without a lady-in-waiting to tuck you in or brush your hair for you.’
She sent him a look of disbelief. The prince didn’t understand what she was saying. There was no possible way for her to sleep unless someone helped her out of her corset and petticoats. But her alternative was to ask him for help. And that was most definitely not going to happen.
‘What about my trunk of clothing?’ she asked. ‘Did your footman bring it?’
His face showed no reaction at all. All he would say was, ‘There may be clothes that were left here by the governor’s wife.’
Then she truly had nothing at all to wear. Serena didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Nothing at all had gone right with her escape from the palace. The only thing that would make it worse would be if the guards caught up to her this night and forced her to return to the palace.
The sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted them. When Serena looked up, the footman Bernard looked embarrassed. He held a wooden tray containing a teapot, two cups, a covered plate and a jar of preserves. ‘Your Royal Highnesses, I must apologise. There was very little food in the house. I found some eggs in the hen house and prepared what I could.’ He bowed and set the tray upon the dining-room table, apologising as he left.
Serena lifted the cover and winced at the sight of the overcooked scrambled eggs. They were badly burned on one side, while the rest was runny. ‘I suppose he did try to cook for us.’
‘You wanted to know how ordinary people lived,’ the fürst pointed out.
She didn’t want to eat, but it would be rude to ignore the footman’s valiant effort. When she ventured a taste of the overcooked eggs, it surprised her to realise how starved she was. When she offered the plate to Karl, he shook his head. ‘I’m waiting to see if you survive.’
There was a hint of roguery in his voice, and she raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you want me to be poisoned?’
‘Not at all. I’ve no wish to be a widower before I’m a bridegroom.’ He poured her a cup of tea. Serena took it from him, but the drink was weak and tea leaves floated on the surface.
She stared down at the watery brew and wondered if she ought to tell him that she was ending their betrothal. ‘How long are you planning to keep me here?’
‘How long were you planning to spend your holiday?’ he countered.
She could feel his gaze upon her, though she didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I was going to stay three days at my grandfather’s lodge.’ After that, she’d intended to leave again, perhaps taking a train somewhere far from Germany or Badenstein.
He ate his own eggs, but all the while, his eyes were studying the room. ‘Your father’s men will come after you.’
‘I know it.’ A cold chill spread over her skin, and she pushed her plate aside, walking to stand by the fire. ‘They’ll try to force me to return.’
‘The king will be angry with you for taking such a risk.’
She said nothing, though her hands had begun to tremble. It was easy to hide her fear behind the guise of cold.
The prince left his own plate and came to stand before her. ‘Marry me here, on the island,’ he commanded. ‘And when we return, I’ll shoulder any trouble that arises.’
She shook her head slowly. Not only did she have no intention of marrying him or anyone else, but she wasn’t going to return.
‘You’d prefer to wait until the summer?’ he mused. ‘After being here with me, I don’t know if the king would allow it.’ He took her hands and drew her to stand. ‘We’ll wed tomorrow.’ Within his voice, she heard the commanding air, the expectation that she would do his bidding.