How to Propose to a Prince (18 page)

“Elizabeth,” he said, in such a low tone her ears barely registered the sound. “There is something I must tell you. But I cannot do it here. Not now.”

“I do not know what you might tell me that has not already been said by the Princess of Wales.” Her words sounded reed thin and just as brittle.

“I have much to say. Much to confess.”

Elizabeth shifted uneasily from one slippered foot to the other. She did not much care for the term “confess.” It implied deliberate wrongdoing.

She turned her gaze up and looked into his gray eyes. In the sunlight, the ring of blue around them was as bright and vibrant as the cerulean sky above the garden. She could deny him nothing. “When then shall we speak?”

“In two days’ time.” He appeared quite earnest. “At sunset. You know where.”

“Will you truly come?” Elizabeth had not meant to say the words aloud. They had simply slipped from her lips unbidden.

Sumner appeared hurt by that comment. “I will come.” He lowered the tone of his voice
again and leaned close so only she could hear him. “I swear it on my love for you.”

Her heart thumped double time, and she felt the sudden urge to turn her face up to him, wishing he would kiss her. To make her know, truly know, that swearing on their love would make it so. No matter the circumstances.

A group of curious ladies sauntered near, and it was evident they were trying to hear what the prince had to say to the outrageous miss from Cornwall. “In two days’ time,” she repeated softly, not knowing what else to say.

“It was wonderful to see you again, Miss Royle. And I do thank you for your prompt attention at the theatre.” It was apparent that he felt the presence of the gaggle of gossipers behind him, but his movements gave no hint he was aware of them. He looked steadily, passionately, into Elizabeth’s eyes, and all the while made appropriate conversation. “I might not have survived had you not acted so quickly and secured a physician to tend to my wound. You are to be commended, my good lady.”

Elizabeth bowed her head demurely and dropped a low curtsy.

Sumner bowed to her, then glanced over his shoulder to where Charlotte and his cousin danced on the lawn.

“Good day, Miss Royle. Please send Lady Upperton my well wishes,” he said.

“I shall, Your Royal Highness.”
Sumner
.

As he turned, he touched his lips and cast a secret kiss to her once more.

Elizabeth didn’t know what she was feeling at that moment. His eyes told her that nothing had changed. That he loved her as she did him. But his mention of needing to confess something petrified her.

At that moment, she realized she was looking blindly through crowd. Focusing her attention, and trying the best she could to pen her emotions, Elizabeth looked about until she saw Lady Upperton standing on the tips of her toes to see what delicacies might be found toward the back of a bountifully stocked table.

Elizabeth plotted a path through the undulating crowd to meet her sponsor. Every step was an effort, for it was moving farther away from her prince, but it would not be forever, she told herself.

She’d be with him again.

In two days’ time.

Berkeley Square

T
he front door flew open with such force that it nearly broke from its hinges. “Elizabeth, where are you?” Anne shouted down the passage.

Elizabeth leapt up from the table in the kitchen, where she had been sitting, reviewing Mrs. Polkshank’s list for the butcher. She whipped her head around and looked at the staircase through the kitchen doorway. “Anne?” she called back. “Is something amiss?”

All at once it sounded like a herd of oxen were being driven down the stair treads and into the kitchen. She was greatly relieved when she saw it was only Anne.

“Lizzy, have you read the newspaper this day?” Anne was gasping for breath, shoving a copy of the
Times
toward her. Had Elizabeth not known better, she would have thought her sister had run all the way from Cockspur Street to Berkeley Square to hand it to her.

“I have not had a spare moment all morning.” Elizabeth took the newspaper from Anne, then gave Mrs. Polkshank a confused glance.

Cook shrugged her shoulders, appearing as clueless as to the reason for Anne’s surprise visit as she.

Elizabeth sat down at the table and unfolded the newspaper.

Anne grabbed it from her hands, slapped it to the table, and ran her index finger down the front page. “There. Read this.”

Elizabeth picked up the newspaper and raised the article to her eyes. Again Anne grabbed the
Times
from her hands.

“Oh, I cannot wait for you to read the
entire
article.” She drew in a deep breath then shook her hands as though drying them in the air. “He is leaving for Paris—
today!
”

“Who is, miss?” Mrs. Polkshank asked.

Anne turned her head at Cook, then back at Elizabeth. “Prince Leopold. Today. Did you hear me? He is leaving for Paris today.”

Elizabeth was bewildered. “No, that cannot be. I just spoke with him yesterday.”

Anne poked her finger at the newspaper. “It says as much right there. Read it.”

Elizabeth bent her head and looked at the article, but Anne slammed her palm upon it.

“No, don’t read it,” her sister cried out with frustration. “You do not have time!”

“I am sure I do have time. Prince Leopold is not going anywhere. We are to meet tomorrow evening at the—” Elizabeth caught herself. “At…the…well, I am not at liberty to say. Safety precautions, you know.”

“Lizzy, the prince is leaving Carlton House at noon today.” Anne waited for a response, but continued when Elizabeth merely sat and listened. “A mole, inside court, has it on good authority that the Prince of Wales has asked Prince Leopold to confer with his Coburg family about the desirability of a marriage between their two families. Once he has received confirmation that the Coburg family supports such a union, he will give consent—if his daughter is still unmarried at that time.”

Elizabeth crinkled her brow. “And so…”

“So the prince is returning to Paris, to resume his military duties, while sending urgent
dispatches to his brother and family. Or, so claims this source.” Anne frantically shook her hands again.

No
. It wasn’t true. She had seen the look in Sumner’s eyes. He loved her and would be at the Serpentine tomorrow at sunset. She was as certain of it as she was that the sun would rise in the morning.

“Come with me. If we leave now, you may be able to speak with him.” Anne caught Elizabeth’s wrist and tugged at her.

“Why don’t you go, Miss Elizabeth,” Mrs. Polkshank said. “Prove that mouse in Carlton House wrong.” Cook folded her arms over her ample chest and gave her head a firm nod.

“It was a mole,” Anne snapped. “Not a mouse.”

“I don’t care what sort of vermin it is,” Mrs. Polkshank replied smartly. “I learned a long time ago that you can’t trust a rat no matter what he calls himself.”

Elizabeth pushed up from the table. “I agree with Cook, and I shall accompany you for the reason she suggested. No other. For I do not believe for one instant that the prince is leaving England today.”

Carlton House

Anne bade her carriage driver to hand them down at the far end of the gateway to Carlton House, then return to her home on Cockspur Street to wait.

“That way, if Prince Leopold spies us, from a window above or…possibly from a carriage…” Anne paused as she stepped to the street. “…we can claim we were returning from shopping on Pall Mall and walking to my home.”

“Aren’t you the clever one? You have thought of everything.” Elizabeth sighed as the footman handed her down from the town carriage to join her sister.

“There is no need to be angry with me. I did not pen the article in the
Times!
” Anne’s spine seemed to stiffen to such an extent that Elizabeth wondered how she managed to walk.

“I am not angry with you, dear, I am furious with myself for coming to Carlton House at noon.” Elizabeth glanced at the high windows just below the rooftop. Once, she had looked up at these very same windows wondering if the Prince of Wales, her natural father in all possibility, was looking down at her at the same moment. Now she wondered if her prince, her future husband, was gazing through one of
those many windows. How a few weeks made such a difference.

She sighed. She should not have come.

It was only a waste of time.

A transgression against trust.

In the distance, a clock sounded the noon hour. Without meaning to, Elizabeth held her breath and waited for the bell tower to strike twelve times.

Eight…nine…ten, and still no carriage passed through the gates.

Eleven…twelve.

Nothing.

She released her pent breath and smirked at her sister as they neared the guarded gate. “I told you, Anne, he is not leaving London.”

“Must you always take everything so literally?” Anne stopped beside the gates and pretended to fish for something inside her reticule. “When a person says ‘noon’ they are referring to sometime
around
twelve of the clock. Not exactly twelve.”

Elizabeth leaned against the gate while Anne prattled on, quite obviously stalling for time to prove the rat inside Carlton House had the right of it all along.

Suddenly, the gate began to rumble and she leapt away from it.

“Stand aside, miss!” the guard yelled. “Stand aside.”

Anne rushed up and stood beside Elizabeth as the Prince of Wales’s glittering closed carriage rolled to a halt at the guard stand. As the team of six pranced in place, Elizabeth ignored the guard’s warning and took a step forward to look inside the carriage. She could not help herself. She had to be sure.

A chill as cold and biting as ice ran up her spine and through her heart. There, inside the carriage, was Princess Charlotte, and across from her the prince and his cousin.

“Step aside, miss!”

The warning call of the guardsman drew the notice of those inside. The prince’s eyes grew large and round as he saw Elizabeth standing there.

Ruefully, she touched her fingers to her lips and then opened her hand fully and released her kiss.

Princess Charlotte looked from Elizabeth to the prince and said something. The prince nodded once in Elizabeth’s direction and then the carriage drove through the gates and down Pall Mall.

Elizabeth’s heart pounded like a kettle drum in her ears and her skin became cold and damp.

“Lizzy?” Anne took her arm. She pressed her mouth to Elizabeth’s ear. “Stay on your feet, sister. Dignity, remember? Just a minute more, that’s all, and he will be gone from sight.”

Elizabeth wavered as she numbly watched the carriage move down the street until it turned and disappeared onto St. James.

“Take me home, Anne.”

“Too far. We’ll go to my home.” Anne slipped her arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “It’s just around the corner. Not far. Just a short walk…” Anne was clearly worried about her. She always chattered when she was tired or her nerves were stressed.

“I can manage.” Elizabeth pulled away from her sister’s arm and concentrated fully on walking. “I am perfectly fine.”

He will come back
.

He will
.

Berkeley Square
The next day

Great-aunt Prudence did not leave her room that morning. Instead she sat before the small writing desk in her bedchamber scribbling notes and drawing pictures that she refused to allow anyone, except Cherie, to see.

Elizabeth worried about her elderly great-aunt when Prudence did not come down to join her for their noon meal. And so she waited, since noon, according to Anne, was not a precise time.

But at half past the hour, worried that something was wrong with her aged great-aunt, she started up the stairs to inquire how Prudence was feeling.

Cherie was just leaving Prudence’s bedchamber and gestured to Elizabeth that her great-aunt was sleeping.

“Is she well? Shall I call for a physician?” Elizabeth asked.

Cherie shook her head vigorously, then waved off her concerns with a silly smile.

“You will call for me if you have any concerns about her, won’t you, Cherie?” She was not leaving the passage until she had some assurance from the silent maid.

Cherie nodded, then turned Elizabeth around and gave her a good-natured push down the passage.

“All right, all right.” Elizabeth grinned, and as she descended the stairs realized that it was the first time she’d smiled since yesterday noon.

She had purposely kept herself busy all
morning, and had even attempted to join Mrs. Polkshank as she departed for the butcher—although Cook told her that assistance was not necessary. Then Mrs. Polkshank added that if she did not trust her to purchase the beef, maybe she ought to haul the butcher home with her to review the price per pound of flesh with Miss Can’t-trust-anyone. It was then that Elizabeth decided to stay at home.

Now, however, she was running low on ways to engage her mind and hands until sunset. Already the small house staff was growing quite exasperated with her and she could not seem to occupy herself with reading or writing letters. And resorting to sleep to pass her time was not an option. “To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub.” She should have listened to Shakespeare, too, for a dream had cursed her with a heart rent in two.

Rounding the newel post at the bottom of the staircase, Elizabeth had just turned for the parlor when the brass hammer came down upon the front door.

Instead of waiting for MacTavish, who was no doubt hiding from his annoying mistress in the kitchen with Mrs. Polkshank, Elizabeth went to the door and opened it.

Her knees were suddenly transformed to
melted beeswax and she found herself sitting upon the floor—looking up at the prince.

Sumner stared at Elizabeth, who was sitting on the entryway floor, her arm still raised, her hand tightly holding the door handle.

He bent and scooped her up, but she made no move to settle her feet on the floor and stand. She said nothing, but stared up at him, her mouth fully agape.

“I could not wait until sunset to see you,” he said to her as he reached down and removed her hand from the door handle, then kicked the door closed behind him.

Elizabeth lifted her finger and pointed, mutely, to the parlor.

“This way?” he asked.

She nodded, and so he carried her into the parlor, settled her gently upon the settee, and then returned to close the door opening to the passage. He turned the key in the lock. “I cannot afford another interruption, if you do not mind.”

Finally she found her voice. “I can’t believe you are here.” Her eyes welled suddenly. “I thought—the newspaper reported that you departed for Paris yesterday.”

“I promised I would come back for you.”

He sat beside her, unconsciously tapping his
pocket where a small emerald ring lay in wait.

“Elizabeth, I told you that there was something I must I confess, and I must do so now.”

She raised her hand feebly. “I do not know that I can bear a confession this day. Seeing you standing at my front door, after I had watched you leave Carlton House for what I thought was…forever, is about the limit of surprise I can manage in one day.”

Sumner bowed his head. He was wicked to allow her to suffer the way she had. But Leopold had safely departed London and was on his way to Paris.

Now was the time to admit everything to Elizabeth.

He opened his mouth to begin, but at once she was in his arms, her lips pressed against his.
No
. No, he had to tell her. He pulled back. “Elizabeth, please. I must confess.”

“I can’t hear it. Not now. Just let me pretend for a little while longer. Please.” She reached out for him, but he caught her wrists and held them.

“Pretend?” Sumner lowered his head. “There is no need to pretend. I am not going to marry Princess Charlotte.” He could see she did not believe him, and after what had come to pass, he did not fault her.

“Princess Charlotte said her father would consent.” Elizabeth tugged against him, visibly needing an end to any talk of this subject that pained her so. “The
Times
reported that you were returning to Paris to resume your duty and to petition your family for support of a union.”

The tears battered the wall of her lashes, threatening to spill. She struggled feebly to pull away from him, but Sumner knew that if he released her, she would run, and he would face another delay to admitting what he must to end her pain.

“You have to hear me, Elizabeth. I need so much for you to understand.”

“I cannot.” Her emerald eyes flashed and she threw her weight forward to break his grip, but he held fast and they both tumbled onto the thick rug.

She tried to roll away, but he threw her onto her back and leaned his body against hers, holding her prisoner to his coming words.

“I never meant to deceive you, Elizabeth. I never meant to hurt you, or cause any pain.” He lifted a heavy copper curl from her shoulder as he leaned close and kissed her calmingly. “But before I say what I must, know that I love you, and I want nothing more than to be with you.”

A tear slipped from the corner of her eyes and trickled over her temple, where it disappeared into her long, thick hair. “Please, do not linger. Tell me what you must and then let me grieve.”