Redeeming A Royal (The Royals of Aldonia Book 3) Read online

  Christopher’s heart stopped dead in his chest at the sight of her.

  His eyes raked her head to toe, taking in the gown, almost the exact shade of those enchanting eyes, that dipped just low enough to give him heart palpitations.

  Her hair – he swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat – was only half gathered at the crown of her head, leaving some of it to cascade over one shoulder like a waterfall of fire that left him feeling scorched from the inside out.

  He felt the now-familiar slam of desire upon seeing her. But alongside it was a tenderness that he’d never before experienced in his life. Especially when he saw the critical glares and outraged whispers as the ladies of his Court took in her appearance.

  His suspicion, he knew, had been correct.

  Lucy Allenwood had ruined him.

  What he didn’t know was what the hell to do about it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucy had thought a dinner party would be something she could take in her stride. After all, she’d attended so many since her Come Out in England that she’d lost count.

  She should have known, of course, that even the most elaborate dinner party she’d attended during her Seasons in London would have paled in comparison to a royal one.

  There were so many guests in attendance, so many visiting royals and dignitaries, that she found herself rather further down the table than she liked.

  Not that she cared about things like status. But she was so far away from Prince Christopher that she almost had to squint to look at him. Which wouldn’t be a problem if she could stop looking at him. Or rather, looking at the way he seemed to be lavishing the beautiful Princess Sylvie with attention.

  Her scolding to herself hadn’t done a jot of good, Lucy surmised as she sulked into her soup. Because her silly, nonsensical romantic heart had positively galloped when she’d seen the prince.

  Their eyes had met just for a moment across the room before Alice had appeared to hiss furiously in Lucy’s ear about her timing, and her hair, and probably lots of other things, too. Only Lucy didn’t hear any of them because all her focus had been on the prince.

  It still was.

  Her dinner companions tried valiantly to engage her in conversation, and she tried valiantly to let them. But it was no use.

  Every time Princess Sylvie smiled, every time the prince leaned closer to mutter something to the lady, Lucy’s heart hurt.

  And by the time the final course was served, she felt utterly miserable. What a situation she’d gotten herself into.

  Queen Anya, who was in attendance without her husband this evening, rose from the table and bade the ladies follow her to one of the drawing rooms.

  Lucy watched as Princess Sylvie rose to her feet and glided through the room to the doorway. She reminded Lucy of a swan, tall, elegant, and moving with a smoothness that didn’t seem possible.

  “Come along, Little Lucy,” Aunt Ivy whispered, and Lucy realised she’d been standing there gaping at the princess while all of the other ladies were leaving the room.

  With one final glance at Prince Christopher, Lucy prepared to leave.

  But when she looked up at him, she realised with a start that while she’d been watching Princess Sylvie, he’d been watching her.

  She felt that wretched, tell-tale heat grow in her cheeks under his scrutiny. His eyes bored into her as only his seemed to do, and her heart hammered in her chest in reaction.

  Lord, but she loved him.

  It was too soon, and foolish, and impossible. But she did.

  And now, she was stuck here for the next two weeks, standing on the side lines and watching him pick a bride.

  “I’m pleased to see you looking so well this evening, my dear. I must confess, I’ve been quite worried about you, and I should hate to see you missing out on all of the festivities.”

  Lucy turned to smile at her aunt, in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. In truth, the expression felt stiff and awkward on her face. Thankfully, Aunt Ivy didn’t seem to notice.

  “Thank you, Aunt,” she said softly. “I am feeling much more the thing now. Perhaps – perhaps the journey tired me out more than I had first thought.”

  As far as excuses went, Lucy knew it was decidedly poor. But her aunt seemed happy enough with it and when an acquaintance of hers came to speak to her, Lucy happily gave up her seat on the chaise so the ladies could talk.

  Standing awkwardly by the chaise, Lucy cast her gaze around the room. Everyone seemed in fine spirits.

  Alice was chattering happily with Lady Travers, Lord Travers’ mother. She seemed happy in the lady’s company and it seemed as though the feeling were mutual.

  “I think, little cousin, that you and I will be attending Alice’s wedding soon, by the looks of things.”

  Lucy turned her head slightly to see Penelope’s shrewd gaze on Alice and Lady Travers.

  “Perhaps,” she agreed weakly. “I should be delighted for her if we were.”

  “She would accept a proposal then, do you think?”

  “She seems fond of the gentleman,” Lucy answered honestly. “I’ve never seen her so taken with someone. And all signs point to the feeling being mutual.”

  “Indeed,” Penelope answered straight away. “He was positively besotted with her today at the seaside. So attentive. It was really quite sweet. Tis a shame you couldn’t be there, Little Lucy. You would have enjoyed it so.”

  The mention of the trip to the seaside made Lucy think of why she’d avoided it in the first place and how it hadn’t worked because Prince Christopher had stayed behind, too, and that inevitably led to her thinking of their stolen afternoon in the secret garden.

  “Oh, um – yes, I was sorry to miss it, too,” she answered hastily when she realised Penelope was awaiting an answer. “P-perhaps I’ll get to see it before we leave for home.”

  “Perhaps,” Penelope agreed easily. “I have been so many times before that it wasn’t overly exciting for me. Truth be told, I only went because I thought that perhaps Prince Christopher might attend.”

  At the mention of the prince, Lucy’s heart stuttered.

  Penelope, oblivious to the effect of her words, carried on airily.

  “Of course, I should have known better. Prince Christopher would never take time out of his schedule to go on a picnic to the seaside.” She laughed.

  “He wouldn’t?”

  Lucy hoped that she sounded only mildly interested, and not desperate for any snippet of information Penelope might have on the prince.

  “No indeed! Why, he is positively famous for his tendency to avoid anything that could be considered fun. My sources tell me that he spent some time with Princess Sylvie this morning, but even that was too short to be of any consequence.”

  Lucy thought back to that afternoon. To the man who’d teased and laughed and regaled her with story after story in the garden.

  He wasn’t as serious as Penelope thought.

  But then, she reasoned, she herself had noted that Prince Christopher seemed to be two entirely different people. Perhaps not many people saw past the mask. Past the crown.

  A warm feeling spread through Lucy at the thought that she might perhaps know a side of him that not many people did.

  And if that were the case, she wondered why he’d chosen to show it to her and not anyone else.

  None of this helped her when it came to leaving her silly fantasies behind, however. And that was quite a big problem.

  After all, Prince Christopher was a royal. A devilishly handsome one at that. And Lucy might be innocent, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think that he wouldn’t enjoy certain activities with ladies far more au fait with these things than she.

  He certainly kissed like he knew what he was doing.

  And while she was standing here mooning over him and remembering how her entire world had shifted when he’d kissed her, he likely wouldn’t give it a second thought.

  So, she quite simply had to stop.

  Th
e longer she spent imagining that she and Prince Christopher shared something special, the more it would hurt when he proved that they hadn’t.

  Whether that was by marrying someone else, like Princess Sylvie or Lucy’s own cousin, it would hurt just the same.

  Although if he married Penelope, Lucy would have to go to the wedding, and –

  “Lucy? Are you listening to me?”

  “Of course,” she answered Penelope, though in truth she had no idea what her cousin had said.

  “Hmm.” Penelope eyed her suspiciously for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and continuing. “I told Mama that I don’t think we need to be concerned with the duchess. She’s quite lovely, but the prince hasn’t shown any interest in her. And if today’s walk with Princess Sylvie was unsuccessful, well…” Penelope shrugged again. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

  Lucy stared at Penelope, her heart sinking to her toes.

  “Penelope – what do you mean?” she asked.

  “I mean that the prince doesn’t seem to prefer any other lady. And I am, after all, of Aldonian blood. He might yet choose me.”

  Even though Lucy had been thinking the same thing only moments before, hearing it from Penelope made her feel a little sick.

  “Has he—” she could barely get the words out, but she needed to. “Has the prince shown a – a preference for you?”

  Penelope frowned slightly.

  “Truthfully, no,” she answered, and Lucy felt weak with relief. “But I’m not sure that signifies anything. He hasn’t singled any of us out. And as I said –”

  Whatever Penelope was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of the gentlemen, and Lucy was grateful for it.

  She wasn’t sure she could have stomached it.

  The gentlemen filed in, and Lucy couldn’t help but watch for the prince.

  He arrived last, of course, and accepted the curtsies as his due.

  Princess Harriet moved to his side.

  Lucy hadn’t yet had the chance to speak to the princess. Her company seemed almost as desirous as her brother’s.

  They spoke quietly for a moment or two before, to Lucy’s shock, both sets of eyes landed directly on her; the princess’s friendly, the prince’s – well, less so.

  Her stomach quivered under the attention of the royal siblings, though in truth, it was Christopher’s gaze she couldn’t look away from, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

  The sudden appearance of Alice’s beaming face solved the problem for Lucy, and she blinked rapidly to refocus herself.

  “Come, Lucy,” Alice said breathlessly. “Walter – er—that is, Lord Travers and his mother have invited us to join them for cards. Do hurry up!”

  Lucy allowed herself to be dragged over to where Alice’s beau and his mother were. Perhaps if she spent the evening being a dutiful sister and helping Alice to secure a match she’d be able to forget the prince for a while.

  “Honestly Christopher, you’ve frightened poor Lucy.”

  Christopher watched Lucy being rather forcefully dragged across the room by her sister.

  His eyes flitted back to Lady Penelope, with whom she’d been conversing.

  He didn’t know what they’d been talking about, but even from across the room, he could tell that whatever it was had distressed Lucy.

  And he found himself wanting to go over there and check that she was well. Which was when Harriet mercifully arrived and stopped him doing something so utterly insane.

  Lady Penelope eyed him shrewdly, in a way that Christopher didn’t particularly like, before she dipped a curtsy, a blatant invitation of a smile playing around her mouth.

  Christopher felt deuced uncomfortable. He knew what a look like that meant.

  But she was Lucy’s cousin. Yet she was on his list…

  “Christopher?”

  “What?” he asked his little sister, who it seemed would not be ignored.

  “Is anything the matter?”

  He looked back to where Lady Penelope had been standing, but she was gone.

  He sighed, inwardly bemoaning the fact that his life had suddenly become so untenably complicated.

  “No, nothing is the matter,” he said now.

  “Well then, as I was saying before you stopped listening to me, I am well pleased to see that darling Lady Lucia at tonight’s event. I was worried she would cry off again. And isn’t she exquisite in that shade of blue? She is truly one of the most becoming ladies I’ve ever seen. Why, I told Mother that –”

  “Hari.”

  “Yes?”

  Christopher turned to fully face down his meddling sister.

  She blinked up at him, the picture of innocence. And he wasn’t fooled for a moment.

  “Just what are you about?” he asked.

  She gasped and scoffed and acted mortally wounded for a moment, before sighing in defeat.

  “I’ve seen you with her, Christopher. You’re different when she’s around. You’re more carefree, less severe. It’s nice.”

  The truth of Harriet’s words had Christopher stiffening in response. It made him feel defensive and out of sorts knowing that Lucy’s effect on him was obvious to Harriet. And if it was obvious to Harriet, did that mean it was obvious to everyone else?

  The last thing Christopher wanted was to be fodder for gossips. Oh, he knew they spoke about him. But he’d always made sure that his conduct in the public eye was above reproach.

  But if people were talking about him and Lucy…

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Harriet continued. “And no, nobody else has noticed. Apart from Jacob, of course. There’s not a thing he doesn’t notice.”

  She rolled her eyes, and Christopher wondered if she was thinking back to how she and Jacob had met, how he’d kept her safe without her even knowing it.

  “But let me just say again that I think she’s wonderful, Christopher. And I think she’s exactly what you need.”

  Christopher couldn’t quite believe that he and Harriet were even having this conversation. Though they’d grown somewhat closer after her kidnapping and subsequent rescue, they’d never had the sort of relationship where they discussed such things. They especially didn’t have the sort of relationship where Harriet gave her unsolicited opinions on his personal life.

  But Harriet was stubborn to a fault, and Christopher knew she wouldn’t let the matter drop. He could command or beg. It wouldn’t make a difference.

  And bizarrely enough, he found he wanted to talk about it. His thoughts about the lady had been driving him mad. Perhaps it would be good to get some of them out.

  “How can you say that?” he whispered furiously, darting his eyes around to ensure nobody was listening. “I’m the Crown Prince, Hari. You know I can’t just choose a wife who will make me happy. I don’t have that luxury. I never have.”

  The pity in his sister’s eyes made Christopher uncomfortable enough to wish they’d never started this damned discussion.

  But it was done now.

  She studied him for what felt like a lifetime before surprising him by reaching out and squeezing his hand, dropping it after only seconds.

  “You know, when we were growing up I only ever thought of how distant you were. Alex always played with me. You never bothered. At least, that’s what I thought. Now, I know that you were never allowed to. You were never allowed to just be my brother. Or Alex’s. You were never allowed to just be Christopher. You always had to be the heir.”

  Her words affected Christopher more than he could have said.

  He’d always secretly lamented that fact. But he didn’t think anyone else had ever really noticed.

  Anyone but Lucy. She’d seen it in him within days of their meeting.

  And now Harriet, the sister he’d never had the opportunity to be anything other than a prince to.

  “Even now, with talk of wives and queens, you act as though you don’t have a choice. But Christopher—” she leaned closer, her fac
e as serious as he’d ever seen it “—You do have a choice. One day, you will be king. You will be a ruler, and a magnificent one at that. You already are,” she said. “But you are also a man. A good and kind man. And you deserve a wife who knows and loves the man that you are, not just the king you will be.”

  Her words made him think of what Jacob had said to him the day of his guests’ arrival. The day he’d met Lucia Allenwood and his world had begun to turn upside down.

  Christopher had insisted that he needed a wife to whom he felt no connection. A wife on whom he could lavish jewels and tiaras, and then largely ignore.

  A good woman, a caring woman, won’t want that life, no matter how many jewels are attached to it.

  Jacob was right, Christopher knew now.

  Lucy would never want a life like that. She didn’t deserve a life like that. Yet, Christopher didn’t know if he was ready to give her what she deserved.

  He didn’t even know if he wanted to.

  “You know, I cannot think in such foolish romantic terms, Harriet,” he bit out, his own riotous emotions sharpening his tongue. “I need to choose a queen. And I can’t base a decision like that on anything other than what is practical and right for Aldonia.”

  Her eyes dulled, and damned if she didn’t look disappointed in him. Another feeling he wasn’t used to, and another he didn’t relish.

  “Well then take care, brother.” Her voice was tinged with regret. “It’s not only your heart that concerns me in all of this.”

  He glanced toward Lucy before he sensed Harriet turning and walking away.

  But his attention was riveted on his red-haired temptress.

  Was Harriet right? Had Lucy given her heart to him? He was too afraid of the answer to think on it overly long.

  Yet as the evening wore on, he couldn’t deny the thrill of pleasure he felt at the idea. But what that meant for him, for them, he didn’t know.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sitting with her knees against her chest and likely ruining her sky-blue walking dress, Lucy stared into one of the ponds and watched the fish swim happily, not a care in the world, not a broken heart among them.