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Authors: Elise Marion

The Third Son (9 page)

BOOK: The Third Son
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Time had changed nothing, Esmeralda thought as she stuffed as much of her wild hair under the frilly, white maid’s cap as possible. A few strands hung loose around her face and neck, but it would have to do. Tatiana’s silken locks fit beneath the
bonnet
perfectly, further emphasizing the childlike glee apparent in her face. 

“I wonder what the penalty will be if we are caught,” Esmeralda whispered as they edged their way carefully toward the servant’s entrance.

“We won’t be,” Tatiana replied vehemently
and
completely confident in her plan. “Do you honestly think any of them know the faces of each and every servant working in this place? There are hundreds of maids here and we’ll blend right in. Besides, the palace is so overrun with guests for the royal wedding
no one will have the time to pay us any attention.”

“Where on earth did you get these uniforms? Lord, I don’t think I want to know.”

“I know a girl who used to be a maid here. She still had these gowns. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

Esmeralda suppressed a giggle. Tatiana’s plan seemed foolproof, yet Esmeralda was uneasy. She’d seen several guards patrolling the perimeter, and though they’d managed to reach the servant’s entrance easily enough, she still feared one of the armed guards would come around the corner at any moment and spot them. Of course
,
they would hardly seem out of place in their disguises, so Esmeralda took a deep breath and willed herself to relax.

The servant’s entrance led right into the large kitchen, which was bustling with activity. The smells of freshly baking bread and roasting meat assailed their senses, as did the noisy banging of pots being scrubbed, and the Cook shouting instructions to bustling maids. Herbs hung from the ceiling, a fire roared in the large fireplace over which a cauldron hung containing boiling water. A row of buckets filled with steaming water sat near the fireplace.

“Hurry up with those buckets,” a footman called from the door to the kitchen. “You know Prince Damien likes his bath water hot.” 

Tatiana shot Esmeralda a smug look and fell in behind the maids lifting the heavy water buckets
. G
etting to Damien would be easier than they’d thought. A stack of drying towels was shoved into her arms and she fell in step behind her cousin and the long line of maids headed to Damien’s chambers. Her heart hammered in her chest as they filed down the winding hallways, past other bustling maids moving in and out of guest rooms, preparing for guests who had not yet arrived.

Esmeralda lost count of how many turns they took, and hoped
they
would be able to find their way out. Finally, they reached the door leading to Damien’s chamber, where footmen had already dragged the largest tub Esmeralda had ever seen. Two armed sentries stood guard on either side of the door. She quickly surveyed the room finding no sign of Damien and at a loss as to what to do next. Surely
,
she could not be present while the prince was bathing and the thought caused Esmeralda’s cheeks to flush hotly.

Esmeralda placed her armful of towels on the small stand beside tub where various bottles and vials were neatly placed. She felt Tatiana’s hand tighten around her arm, and before she could blink, she’d been yanked through the connecting door to the prince’s sitting room. Tatiana put her finger over her lips, listening for the footsteps that signaled the other servants leaving the other room. Once they heard the door shut firmly, Esmeralda breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’d better get out there before he comes in and starts undressing,” Tatiana laughed, “Unless that was your intention all along.” 

Shooting her wayward cousin a glare, Esmeralda pushed the connecting door open a crack and peered inside. There was no sound or movement. “Are you going to wait in here?”

Tatiana shook her head. “Oh no, I don’t want to intrude. I’ll meet you back in the kitchen. I’ll keep posing as a maid and when you come back we’ll sneak back out the servant’s entrance.”

Esmeralda nodded, moving through the door and quickly shutting it behind her. She had been so nervous about getting caught, she hadn’t even taken the time to notice her surroundings. Damien’s room was as large as the entire bottom floor of her house, boasting a great oak bed with four massive posters stretching toward the ceiling. Chairs in brown, ivory and gold brocade matched the bedding.

The intimacy of her position was never far from Esmeralda’s mind. The tub sat near the crackling fireplace, hot and inviting, the bed curtains were pulled back and held to the posters by tasseled ropes, the bedcovers turned down.

She noticed for the first time that there were a set of glass doors open to a circular balcony. It was there she found Damien, a dashing figure in black, his hair glowing like a moonlit halo about his head. She found herself drawn toward the doors, her voice caught in her throat, her hands clenched tightly before her. He half stood, half sat, on the stone rail of the balcony.
Damien
held a strange black instrument to his eye, his head tilted upward to the midnight blue sky. 

She cleared her throat, knowing that she was still too overwhelmed by the sight of him to speak. He lowered the instrument and turned.

“Is my bath ready?” he asked, walking toward her. Her face was partially covered in shadow and she knew he was too far away to recognize her.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, waiting like the coward she was for him to discover her.

 

Damien inhaled deeply as he walked toward the maid awaiting him on the balcony. Jasmine. The fragrance was unmistakable and also slightly familiar. Damien could not determine where he’d smelled the scent before, though it called to mind all manner of erotic thoughts. 

“Esmeralda,” he said warmly, when the moonlight revealed her face. He thought he’d made such a mess of things with her the night before that she wouldn’t want to see him again. Yet here she was, standing mere inches away from him.

“I came to apologize,” she said, her hands still tightly clasped in front of her. “For my behavior last night.” 

Damien couldn’t control the upward movement of his brow, or mask his disbelief. She, apologize to him? “I’m the one who should apologize,” he said once he had recovered. “I acted like a cad and you had every right to be offended.”

“But I wasn’t offended,” she said, her voice a near whisper. Her eyelids lowered demurely. Damien had assumed when seeing her dance, that she was an experienced woman. No woman he had ever known moved with such an inborn sensuality.
I
t was plainly obvious after her response to him when he’d kissed her and her reticence here tonight that she was innocent and untouched. Damien could hardly believe the odds.

“You weren’t?” he prodded, not wanting to frighten her, but wanting to know more. She shook her head, causing the ruffled maid’s cap to slip back a little on her head. Her masses of hair were fighting for freedom
,
several tendrils had come loose just in the short time they had been speaking. Damien clamped down on his desire to snatch the cap away and send her ebony waves cascading down her back. He clasped his hands loosely behind his back.

“You caught me a little off guard,” she said, taking a tentative step toward him. “But I shouldn’t have thrown you out of my house. It was rude.”

Damien gestured toward a chaise lounge in the middle of the balcony and waited for Esmeralda to sit before sinking down beside her. “I was the one who was rude. You told me about yourself. You let down your guard to me
,
which is something I sense you don’t do for very many people.” Esmeralda nodded. Damien continued. “You gave me a chance to do the same, to share a little of myself with you and I acted like a moron.”

“Well maybe you can make it up to me,” she said, jumping at the chance to change the subject. She would not let him know how his kiss had affected her. “Tell me about that thing you were looking into earlier.”

Damien stood and grabbed the long black instrument from the balcony rail. “This? You’ve never seen a telescope before?” He smiled when she shook her head.  

“My father told me about them,” she said wistfully. “I’ve never seen one in person though.”

“Well, allow me to demonstrate how it works,” he said handing her the portable telescope an
d pointed
out various constellations. Esmeralda noticed the way his face softened and his eyes lit up as he showed her each cluster of stars and the history behind them. 

“I would not have guessed that you were interested in something as intellectual as astronomy.”

She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “I am so sorry! I did not mean to insult you.”

Damien
merely shrugged and returned the telescope to its case.

“It is not common knowledge,” he said, rejoining her on the chaise. “My less reputable hobbies are more known than my intellectual ones. I have several telescopes, of varying sizes and for different purposes, kept in the observatory in the east wing of the palace. My personal library contains several volumes on astronomy, poetry, botany, and biology.”

“The rumors I’ve heard about you make you seem so superficial,” she said. “
It is hard to believe that a man who speaks so eloquently of poetry and science could be the same drinking, gambling rakehell I’ve heard so many stories of?
How is it that no one seems to know of your many other interests?”

“That is mostly my fault,” he admitted, toying with his signet ring to keep from touching her skin. “I have kept these interests mostly to myself, though my family and servants know of them. Publicly though, I have only allowed people to see one side of me.”

Esmeralda nodded. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said sincerely. “Being a Gypsy who dances in a tavern gives people certain ideas about me all the time.”

Damien knew he was guilty having misguided thoughts of his own about her. “Yes but you are innocent, where I am not. People have the right idea about me.”

“Then why don’t you change it?” 

Damien shrugged. “Because for all the gossip that exists about me, people are more concerned with the heir to the throne than with me. Lionus will be king, Serge will be general of Cardenas’ military and I will be the third son. No one really expects much from me.”

“But surely you must want more than that? To be known as more than just the last son?”

It was like she had read his mind, Damien thought. How could she have known of his desire for a more fulfilling life? 

“Of course I want more. It is just that no one has ever expected anything of me and so I’ve never expected anything from myself.”

“But there must be something,” she prodded. 

“I have often thought of founding a university, perhaps even naming it for my father.”

Esmeralda smiled and her entire face nearly glowed. Damien felt that smile tugging at his insides, twisting at his heart. “That’s a wonderful idea!” she said, her excitement contagious, sparking something in him now that he had given voice to his dream. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t do just what you’ve said.”

Damien studied her face, illuminated by the pale moonlight. “You are a marvel,” he said softly, cupping her cheek with his hand. He had resisted long enough, the urge to touch her had finally overcome his will. “Such freshness and passion,” he murmured, reaching up to slide the white cap from her head. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders
. T
he scent of jasmine grew even stronger. She stiffened slightly when he leaned toward her, but relaxed when he pressed his face to her thick locks and inhaled. “That fragrance is intoxicating.”

“My mother makes perfumes and soaps,” she said
.
Damien brushed his lips lightly up her neck, moving up over her chin, and finding her lush mouth. The moment his lips touched hers, she was lost. 

He swept her swiftly into his arms and crushed her against him, molding her body against his from chest to hip. Though his hold on her was tight and fierce, his lips moved with surprising softness over hers. He took her mouth slowly, trying carefully not to overwhelm her with his growing ardor.
Damien
clenched a handful of her hair and tugged gently, slanting her head back to gain better access to her mouth.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding achingly over hers, arousing feelings she never thought could exist low in her belly. Heat suffused through her, spreading from her middle until she was hot all over. Her hands rested on his chest, tingling at the feel of his corded muscles beneath her fingers. He brought his hands to her waist, so slender he could nearly span the width of it with his large hands.
Damien
slid his hands slowly upward over her ribcage, his fingertips lightly brushing her breasts. She sighed into his mouth and arched her back unknowingly, her body responding before her mind could rationalize what she was doing. He lowered his head, showering her neck and shoulders with kisses, working his way steadily downward. His hand cupping one breast jolted her senses, sending her blood rushing rapidly through her veins.

Before she could lose control completely, she pushed him away, her chest heaving as she struggled to control her breathing. It took every ounce of Damien’s will to pull his hands away from her tempting curves.

BOOK: The Third Son
12.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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