Be My Prince (20 page)

“You and I are fortunate, then, to have been blessed with good sea legs.”

“And strong stomachs,” Alexandra agreed.

They stared at each other intensely. It was clearly not an occasion for relaxed and friendly conversation, so Alex steeled her nerves for battle.

Rose gestured for her to sit down on one of two chairs at a small, round table. “I would like to speak plainly if you do not object.”

“Speak as plainly as you wish.”

Rose hesitated a moment, then removed her gloves and sat down. “My brother has explained the situation to Nicholas and me. We both know who you are, and that you came to London with the sole purpose of winning a proposal of marriage from my brother in order to take back the throne.”

Alexandra also removed her gloves and tossed them onto the table. “That is correct, Rose, for my ancestors occupied the Petersbourg throne for more than three hundred years before yours. Did Rand also explain that I, too, was tricked by his dishonest but clever scheme to switch places with his brother, and that I fell so deeply in love, I was prepared to throw away all my political ambitions in order to elope with him to Scotland?”

Rose sat back in her chair, looking more than a little skeptical. “Yes, he did explain that, and I am not sure if you are aware, but that clever scheme to which you are referring was
my
idea.”

Surprised by this information, Alex leaned forward slightly.
“You.”

“Yes,” Rose replied. “I knew he would never allow himself to feel any true affection for a woman if he believed she only wanted him for his crown, and I wanted him to find true love.”

“But you neglected to consider the feelings of the woman. I did not like being lied to.”

“But you fell in love, did you not? Or so you claim.” She sighed heavily in defeat. “It was a test in many ways for both of you, and I am disappointed that it did not achieve its purpose. But know this: Nick and I are very loyal to our brother. He is a good man, but when he loves he loves deeply. It is his Achilles’ heel. We will not stand by to see him hurt.”

“I have no intention of hurting your brother, and I rather wish I had someone looking out for me in such a way, for surely you can see that I am at great risk of being hurt, for Rand does not trust me, and I am about to enter a new country and I have no idea if I will be welcomed or imprisoned upon arrival.”

“I don’t know either,” Rose flatly said, “for the Revolution is still fresh in the hearts and minds of our people.” She sat forward. “This is no fairy tale, Alexandra. You will not find it easy. My father, for one, will not be pleased to learn that a Tremaine will again sit on the throne, when he worked so hard to put an end to your father’s dictatorship and create a democratic government.”

Alexandra drew back in surprise. “First of all, let me assure you that I am not operating under the false impression that this is a fairy tale. I wish only for an opportunity to sit beside your brother, and perhaps in time win back the esteem of the people. I do not intend to change the government. In fact, I believe a constitutional monarchy is the best way to give a voice to the people and yet to maintain a strong sense of tradition and identity at the same time. It is what I have grown up with, after all, as a citizen of England.”

Rose’s eyes narrowed dubiously. “I am pleased to hear it. I hope you will make your intentions known to my father. If, God willing, he is well enough to hear them when we arrive.”

Alexandra tried to envision herself entering King Frederick’s bedchamber and curtsying before him, perhaps even kissing the ring on his finger that once belonged to her own father.

How many nights had she lain awake dreaming of the day she would see the former general’s body entombed and revel in the fact that she would be the mother of the future king, and her own father’s death would be avenged in this way?

Even now, a part of her hoped King Frederick would already be dead when she arrived so that she would not be forced to bow down before him or struggle with conflicting loyalties—for he was her husband’s father.

She could not say any of these things to Rose, of course, nor could she voice such thoughts to her husband. She must keep them to herself, for not only were they immoral, they were treasonous.

“I hope your father will be feeling better when we arrive,” she said.

Rose nodded. “I say a prayer every night for such a blessing.” She was quiet for a moment; then she lifted her chin and regarded Alexandra earnestly. “But that is enough talk of politics and illness. Now that we have laid our cards on the table, let us talk about something else.”

They stared at each other questioningly.

“What would you like to talk about?” Alex asked.

Rose drummed her fingers on the table. “Oh, for pity’s sake. Tell me about your sisters, so I can plan for their arrival in Petersbourg. When will they join you?”

More than a little surprised by this unexpected turn in the conversation, Alexandra described the looks and temperaments of her three siblings, starting with the youngest, who was uncommonly pretty but enjoyed catching bugs and frogs.…

“They will join us next spring.”

An hour later Alex walked out of Rose’s cabin feeling slightly more relaxed about their encounter, for they did not mention politics or thrones again after they began to discuss other things.

Alex was surprised to learn that Rose was already betrothed to marry an Austrian archduke whom she had met only once. Rose admitted it was an arranged marriage but insisted that the gentleman was extremely handsome and she was overjoyed to do what she must to foster a strong political alliance with Austria.

This from the woman who had concocted a plan for her brothers to switch places in order to find true love …

A short while later Alex returned to her own cabin, but was startled to discover another person occupying the space, pacing back and forth impatiently.

She walked in and closed the door behind her.

Chapter Twenty-two

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Alex asked. “As if I have been colluding with enemies and sharing state secrets.”

Her husband’s accusing eyes raked down the length of her body. “Where were you?” he asked. “I’ve been waiting here for a quarter of an hour, and was about to go searching the ship.”

“I do beg your pardon,” she replied. “I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Where were you?”

“If you must know, I was with Rose discussing fabrics and gowns for my sisters for their presentation at court. Does that suffice? If you don’t believe me, go and ask her. She will confirm my whereabouts, and you will be able to sleep soundly tonight, knowing I am not plotting a
coup d’état.
”

He ripped his jacket off and angrily began to unbutton his waistcoat. “I don’t want to sleep. All I want to do is make love to you.”

A burst of heat flared through her blood at the sight of her husband’s impressive arousal.

“And what if I am offended by your demands?” she replied as she quickly toed off her slippers, lifted her skirts, and rolled her stockings down her legs. “What if I think you are behaving in a tyrannical fashion?”

“Then I will remind you that you are my wife and you quite enjoy the benefits of my tyrannical demands, since most of them result in you feeling exceptionally well pleasured.”

He removed his waistcoat, tossed it onto the floor, untied his cravat, and ripped his shirt off over his head.

She stood before him, desperate for his touch and angry with him at the same time, speechless and short of breath as she admired the smooth contours of his chest and the broad muscles at his shoulders.

“Do you need assistance with your gown?” he asked in a demanding voice that sent her passions into a wild frenzy.

“Yes.” She furiously turned her back on him, as if it were his fault the gown fastenings were so complex, and he was quick to take up the task.

Her heart raced feverishly at the sensation of his hands moving slower now, delaying the pleasure she knew awaited her. It was enough to drive her mad with yearning.

When the gown came loose, he slid the delicate satin and crepe fabric off her shoulders and brushed his lips across the sensitive flesh at her nape.

Gooseflesh tingled across her skin, and she sucked in a breath of eager anticipation as the gown fell lightly to the floor and she stepped out of it, while turning slowly to face him.

The waters were calm tonight, she noticed suddenly. The floor was steady beneath her feet.

His gaze dipped to her breasts, crushed tight beneath her corset. She shivered with arousal and glanced down at his breeches.

“You’ll need to take those off,” she said in an impatient rush of desire.

“Why don’t you do that for me,” he suggested, “so that I can put my hands to better use.”

More than willing to oblige, she reached out to work the fastenings while he untied the laces of her corset. They undressed each other with impressive efficiency and indulgence.

Soon they stood naked in the cabin, saying nothing in the flickering glow of the lamplight.

“All day long, I thought of nothing but bedding you,” he irritably confessed. “You have cast some sort of spell on me, and I don’t know what to make of it.”

“You have cast a similar spell on me,” she replied as she laid her open palms on the firm muscles of his chest. “I feel drunk with desire most of the time at the mere sight of you. All I want to do is touch you, and I fear it will be my undoing.”

He ran a hand from her bare shoulder down to her breast; then at last he covered her mouth with his own—a deep soul-reaching kiss of uncompromising possession. For a moment she felt as if she were floating, then realized that she was indeed floating—in the middle of the North Sea—but that was something different. It wouldn’t matter where she stood. Whenever he put his hands on her body, she was instantly cast adrift into an erotic sea of surrender, and there was no escaping it.

Leading her to the bed, he eased her onto her back, then came down upon her.

“What would you like tonight, Wife?” he asked. “Fast or slow? Rough or gentle?”

“Slow and gentle,” she replied. “Let us make it last.”

His eyes clouded over with uncertainty. “I must know that you will be faithful to me,” he said.

Surprised at this unexpected plea, she nodded. “Of course I will be. If ever you doubt it, think only of that day in your carriage when I believed you had no claim to the throne, yet I wanted you regardless with more passion than I ever dreamed possible. Imagine us escaping to Scotland together. Married by a blacksmith.”

He slid into her body then, and she threw her head back in rapture at the intense sensation that flooded through her veins.

They made love twice that night, then slept soundly together in the darkness until dawn, when they woke to the sound of the ship’s bell ringing up on deck.

Again they made love and spoke nothing of the future, or what would happen when they reached the coast. It was a subject they chose to avoid.

All that mattered was the passion they shared as they found pleasure in the darkness. Alexandra even began to believe that one day her husband might begin to understand who she truly was, and a mutual trust would eventually find its way into their marriage.

When he stood up to leave her cabin later that morning, she felt surprisingly sated and optimistic about their future and began to wonder if the throne of Petersbourg was not her destiny after all.

Perhaps this
man
was her destiny, and she might very well have been born to be his queen. It was a lovely thought that filled her with inconceivable pleasure.

*   *   *

Meanwhile, somewhere along the rugged coast of northern England, another ship set sail for Petersbourg but remained a full day behind the
Abigail
so as not to be seen. It was unfortunate that Alexandra knew nothing of the plots that were taking shape on that particular ship, for if she had known, she may have been able to do something about it, or at least she could have warned her husband of the danger that awaited them at the palace.

All she knew, however, was a nightly passion so intense, she was completely blinded by it.

Chapter Twenty-three

The wind blew sure and true for the remainder of the journey, and the Royal Party reached the Petersbourg coast a half day sooner than expected. Standing at the rail, Alexandra laid a gloved hand on top of her bonnet to keep it from flying off in the fierce coastal winds and, with great fascination, took in the awe-inspiring sight of her homeland.

“Is it what you were expecting?” Rose asked as she approached, shouting over the thunderous roar of the sea and the wind in the sails.

Alexandra tried to make sense of what she was feeling. “I am not sure. A part of me is eager to reach the dock and set foot on Petersbourg soil. I want to see the city and the palace that was home to my parents, yet another part of me feels anxious. What if I am not welcome here? What if the people don’t want me as their queen?”

Rose laid a gloved hand on top of her arm. “Think no more of that. You will do fine. I am certain you will capture everyone’s hearts—especially when they learn about Randolph’s clever switch of identities. Nicholas has already composed the announcement for the
Petersbourg Chronicle
. He will present your marriage as a great love match and the stuff of fairy tales. What are the odds, after all, that a secret prince could unwittingly fall in love with a secret princess? And vice versa?”

“It sounds very romantic when you put it that way,” Alexandra replied, “but as you know, it has not been entirely without obstacles.”

There was compassion in Rose’s voice. “Perhaps you will overcome them in time, as long as you are truthful and open from this day forward.”

Alexandra wondered how long it would take to earn her husband’s trust. “I give you my word that I will never again keep anything from your brother.”

Except for her dread about curtsying before his father and her shame at having wished, on countless occasions in the past, for the king’s early demise.