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

  The girl spun back around, her eyes round as saucers.

  She looked terrified, Christopher noticed with a grimace.

  But then, he reasoned, he never addressed the household staff. He wasn’t usually around to do so, in any case.

  “Y-yes, Your Highness?” she stammered.

  Christopher held out the flowers.

  “Take these,” he said distractedly.

  The girl fairly convulsed so much was she shaking as she reached out and took the flowers before scurrying away.

  “Christopher, what on earth are you doing?”

  Harriet frowned up at him, and he frowned right back.

  “Nothing.” He didn’t like how defensive he sounded. “What are you doing?”

  Harriet stared at him as though he’d sprouted another head.

  “I’m going to tea with Mother. The Countess Bonne has arrived with her party.”

  “Ah,” Christopher said for want of anything else to say.

  Countess Bonne. Her daughter, Penelope, was on his list.

  A sudden uneasiness stirred inside him as he began to guess at who the beautiful thief in the blue dress was.

  “You’re never in this part of the palace,” Harriet continued. “And you’re certainly never standing around holding flowers. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” he said brusquely. “I just – I needed something. But now, I don’t.”

  He was rambling like a lunatic, he knew. And his excuses were as flimsy as his real reason for being here.

  But he was hardly going to admit to Harriet that he’d come here because of her. The lady in the blue dress. The thief. The madwoman!

  “Hmm.”

  There was a wealth of things unsaid in that noise, but Christopher knew better than to hang around and allow Harriet to interrogate him. She had an uncanny ability to get the truth out of people.

  “Well, I have a country to run,” Christopher said. “Enjoy your tea.”

  He turned to run back up the stairs and to the sanctuary of his private rooms. Hopefully, he’d find his missing sanity on the way.

  But before he’d gone more than a few steps, he stopped and turned back around.

  “Harri.”

  His sister stopped on her way down the corridor and turned to raise an enquiring brow.

  “The Countess Bonne,” he started. “Who does she have with her?”

  Harriet narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, but he had long been adept at keeping a stoic expression in the face of information seekers. That was the lot of a politician, and a prince.

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to give anything away, Harriet shrugged.

  “Her daughter, Lady Penelope, of course,” she answered. “And her nieces from England. A Lady Alice and her younger sister, Lady Lucia. They are the daughters of an earl.”

  Lady Lucia.

  That meant the other lady was her sister, Lady Alice.

  That also meant that she was the cousin of one of his potential brides.

  And even though that shouldn’t be a problem, it felt like one.

  Chapter Five

  Lucy felt just about recovered from her moment of madness in the gardens earlier.

  Less so about the encounter with her dark, handsome stranger on the stairs.

  Now that she’d gotten through the introduction to Queen Anya without incident, her mind was free to wander.

  And it wandered straight to him.

  She was able to wonder who he was, for example.

  Certainly not a footman or anything like it. Not dressed the way he had been.

  Perhaps he was a member of Prince Christopher’s staff.

  Princess Harriet had mentioned that her own husband worked directly with the prince. Perhaps her unwitting helper did, too.

  Whoever the mystery man was, he was obviously important. It wasn’t just the excellent cut and quality of his clothing. But he’d carried himself so confidently. He’d oozed importance and power.

  And Lucy had treated him as nothing more than a servant.

  Even now, her cheeks heated in embarrassment.

  But, she tried to bolster her spirits as she sipped at her tea and listened to Aunt Ivy converse with the queen, she hadn’t embarrassed herself in front of Queen Anya and was pleasantly surprised by how friendly and warm Princess Harriet was.

  Whilst Queen Anya was reserved and very much contained, Princess Harriet had chattered away as though they were all old friends from the moment they’d been introduced.

  Lucy could well imagine becoming fast friends with the beautiful princess, unbelievable as that seemed to her. The ton would turn on its head if Lucy should return home with a princess as a friend!

  And whilst Queen Anya had given polite but superficial details about the rest of the royal family, Princess Harriet talked openly about her brother Prince Alexander, or the Earl of Huntsforth as he was known in England, and Lady Huntsforth.

  Lucy had briefly met the prince at some Society event or other in London. He’d been shockingly handsome, she remembered. And very charming.

  His wife had been beautiful and kind, and the love between them both had been endearingly obvious.

  This Aldonian royal family certainly seemed to love deeply, for Princess Harriet sounded just as besotted with her husband as Prince Alexander had clearly been with his wife.

  The Crown Prince, however, sounded quite different to his siblings.

  “Prince Christopher has many varied responsibilities,” Queen Anya had said.

  “Christopher wouldn’t even look at a lady long enough to fall in love,” Princess Harriet had whispered conspiratorially, rolling her eyes. “I had been worried he’d marry the most odious woman I’ve ever met. But thankfully, it all came to naught.”

  After the talk of the royal family, Queen Anya suggested that they visit the gallery that housed portraits of the family and their many, many, many illustrious ancestors.

  Lucy only hoped her face hadn’t fallen.

  It sounded frightfully dull to her, though Aunt Ivy, Penelope, and Alice had all seemed more than happy to go.

  Princess Harriet, however, surprisingly came to her rescue.

  “Do please, excuse me,” she said sweetly, standing and dragging Lucy up with her. “But I promised Lady Lucia that I would – er – show her the way to the library before dinner.”

  The other ladies looked quite surprised, though her own family would never argue with a princess, and the queen didn’t seem all that interested, really.

  Once Lucia escaped the room her arm firmly placed in Princess Harriet’s, the princess turned to her with the most mischievous grin on her face.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said once they’d walked a goodly distance from the queen’s private parlour. “But I needed an excuse to get out of that. I already know what my family looks like. I don’t need to stand about gazing at their portraits!”

  Lucy couldn’t contain her grin at the princess’s subterfuge.

  “I confess, it’s not my favourite pastime either, Your Highness,” she’d said.

  “Hmm. I did guess at that. I think we’re quite alike, you and I. I believe we shall be friends.”

  Lucy was surprised but pleased by Princess Harriet’s statement.

  “I do, too.” She smiled shyly.

  “How on earth did you manage to get out of the tour of the portrait gallery?”

  The ladies turned at the sound of an approaching masculine voice.

  Lucy felt her eyes widen slightly at the sight of a tall, wide-shouldered man walking toward them, a grin on his face.

  Goodness, the men were very handsome in Aldonia!

  Whereas her mystery man from earlier had been all dark, brooding sinfulness, this man was golden-haired and blue-eyed. An unusual sight amongst the darker features she’d seen so much of in Aldonia.

  The gentleman drew to a halt in front of them, his gaze becoming positively wolfish as he looked at the princess.

  “Lady Lu
cia helped me,” the princess said now, a smile lighting her own face. “Thank goodness. I don’t think I could have stayed awake if I’d gone with them.”

  “You’re a terrible princess, do you know that?”

  Lucy frowned at the man’s words. Surely, it wasn’t done to address the Crown Princess so informally.

  “And you’re a terrible husband,” the princess answered. “To insult your wife so.”

  Lucy’s eyes darted between the two.

  Of course. Suddenly, the possessive gleam in his eyes and the delicate blush on Princess Harriet’s cheeks made sense.

  “Well, since you managed to get out of this afternoon’s commitment early, perhaps I can make it up to you?”

  Lucy would have needed to be blind to miss the heated look exchanged between the husband and wife.

  “Behave yourself in front of my new friend,” Princess Harriet answered stoutly, though her voice shook a little.

  For some bizarre reason, Lucy’s mind flew to the dark-haired man from the steps.

  “Lady Lucia Allenwood, my incorrigible husband, Mr. Jacob Lauer. Darling, my new friend, Lady Lucia.”

  The princess was quite the character, Lucy thought as she executed a curtsy in response to Mr. Lauer’s bow.

  And Lucy felt completely at ease with her.

  “Lady Lucia.” Mr. Lauer straightened and smiled politely down at her. He was considerably taller than her but not, Lucy thought, quite as much as the mystery man.

  And why did her mind keep wandering back to him?

  “Our English delegate,” he quipped. “You are the cousin of Lady Penelope then? The Countess Bonne’s niece?”

  “Indeed,” she responded.

  She thought it rather odd that the man should mention Penelope by name. And judging by Princess Harriet’s frown, she did, too.

  “Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” he said, giving no indication of his reason for the question. “My apologies, Lady Lucia, for interrupting your afternoon.”

  “That’s quite all right, Mr. Lauer,” she answered hastily. “I do not mind in the slightest. And in fact, I do not mind delaying our trip to the library until another time, Your Highness.” She addressed this to the princess.

  “Are you sure?” the princess asked. “I do realise that you didn’t actually ask to see it, but it is rather spectacular.”

  Truth be told, Lucy would love to see the library. But she was so distracted by her encounter earlier she didn’t think she’d fully appreciate it.

  Besides, she had no wish to stop the besotted couple from spending time alone together.

  She could imagine that it could be difficult, given they both lived in the palace and had a huge amount of responsibilities, from what Queen Anya had said at tea.

  “Yes, I – I’m quite tired and would like to freshen up before the ball tonight.”

  “Oh, of course you would,” Princess Harriet said sympathetically. “You just go right along and enjoy some peace and quiet,” she said.

  “If you are tired, my lady, perhaps you should have gone to the gallery. It would have put you to sleep almost immediately.” Mr. Lauer grinned, earning himself a playful tap on the arm from his wife.

  Lucy hastily took her leave of the couple, turning to hurry back along the corridor.

  She hoped she’d be able to find her way back through the cavernous, maze-like hallways of the palace.

  And she hoped, though she shouldn’t, to run into her mystery man again.

  Chapter Six

  The information you requested. I hope you know you interrupted something very important between my wife and me.

  Christopher rolled his eyes as he read Jacob’s note. He was quite sure he had absolutely no desire to know just what he’d interrupted between Harriet and Jacob when he’d sent word that he wanted information on Lady Bonne’s nieces as a matter of urgency.

  He couldn’t fault Jacob’s ability to get the job done, however, and he ran an eye over the detailed accounts of the English sisters.

  Alice was the older by two years, he read.

  Their father was a wealthy and well-respected English peer with a title old enough to be impressive.

  The girls had attended the same finishing school.

  Lady Alice had been presented at the British Court four years ago, Lady Lucia two years ago.

  Both ladies were well-received and had sizeable dowries.

  The report told him everything and nothing.

  It provided background information on the lady in blue and her family. But not why such a lady should steal flowers and then rather bizarrely, throw them at the Crown Prince before disappearing.

  With a sigh of frustration, Christopher threw the parchment to the side, where it landed atop his list of potential brides.

  Princess Sylvie of Berent

  The Royal Duchess Dorothea Von Shull

  Lady Penelope of Bonne

  Those were the ladies he’d decided upon. Those were the ladies on whom he should be concentrating.

  This Lady Lucia wasn’t important. In truth, excepting the official presentation at tonight’s ball, they’d have little if any interaction.

  His mother would keep the ladies occupied for most of the time. Christopher would only attend events that he either couldn’t get out of, or where he decided to get to know one of the ladies from his list better.

  He knew enough to know that background information wouldn’t determine a suitable match. He would have to get to know each lady, to see if they were compatible.

  And this Lady Lucia –

  Christopher’s thoughts skittered to a halt as an image of the lady barrelled into his mind.

  From far away, he’d known that she had the most glorious red hair. He knew that she was slender and curved and womanly in a way that made his throat dry.

  But seeing her up close. Seeing her face.

  That shook him.

  In ways that he hadn’t expected or particularly wanted.

  She was beautiful. Deranged, but beautiful.

  He’d thought that her hair would have been her great asset, but he’d been wrong. In fact, it was hard to decide what was more beautiful. The rosebud lips, the pale, clear skin, or those eyes.

  Christopher swallowed past a sudden, unexpected and most inconvenient lump in his throat.

  He’d never seen eyes that colour. Surrounded by thick, curling lashes, they were the colour of the clearest ocean on a summer’s day. An aqua blue that had quite literally taken his breath away.

  Though that could have been because she’d flung the flowers she’d stolen from his garden at him.

  Christopher turned toward the window to gaze out at the scene of the crime.

  Lady Lucia might be a little unorthodox, to say the least. But she was Quality. The daughter of a peer.

  She would know to curtsy to royalty. She would know not to fling flowers at them before running full pelt down a corridor. He was sure of it.

  The only logical explanation for her behaviour was that she didn’t know who he was.

  As surprising as it was, given that she was in the royal palace and his portrait hung in more than one part of it, Lady Lucia had no idea that she’d had an encounter with the Crown Prince.

  Perhaps more bizarre still was the fact that Christopher felt inordinately pleased about it.

  And he found himself standing there, staring at the garden when he should have been doing any number of other more important things, wishing he could see her again, speak to her again, while she was still unaware of who he was.

  It would be impossible, of course.

  Foolish, too.

  This wasn’t a woman that he was interested in.

  This wasn’t a woman from the list.

  And yet…

  The clock chimed, grabbing his attention.

  In just two hours their guests would arrive in the ballroom; the young ladies would be presented to the royal family.

  He would need to be there, of course. It was,
after all, his idea that this should happen in the first place.

  Whether he wanted to or not, in two hours he would need to take his place on the dais that held the throne, stand by his father’s side, and watch the procession of young ladies to be presented.

  That meant ignoring the strange Lady Lucia and his even stranger encounter with her.

  It meant doing what he always did, what he always should. Getting on with the job of being the Crown Prince and ruler of Aldonia. And concentrating on a woman who didn’t cause him to feel unsettled or oddly intrigued. Concentrating instead on a woman that made him feel nothing at all.

  “Oh, Lucy. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  Lucy could only nod at her cousin’s excited question as she stood at the entrance of the most elaborate, expansive ballroom she’d ever seen.

  Even when she’d been presented at Court, she hadn’t felt this overwhelmed.

  Perhaps it was that she was in this foreign, beautiful land. Perhaps it was the high, vaulted ceilings draped with white satin and the thousands of candles lighting the room and glinting off the glittering jewels worn by the female guests making it feel as though she were in a dream.

  Perhaps it was the hundreds and hundreds of beautiful Aldonian roses she’d been so taken with earlier in the day that filled every available surface.

  Of course, thinking of the roses led right to thinking of the man she’d encountered on the staircase. The man who’d been occupying far too many of her thoughts since that afternoon.

  All through her preparations for the ball, while she’d soaked in a rose bath, while she’d sat and had her hair painstakingly curled and pinned with diamond and sapphire combs, while she’d dressed in her aqua-blue satin ballgown, Lucy had thought of the man.

  And even now, standing here in the most beautiful of rooms, her eyes searched for him.

  Foolish. Ridiculous, even. It had been one conversation, less than five minutes long!

  Nothing to lose her head over, and certainly nothing to be obsessing over now when there was so much to distract her.

  Just then, Aunt Ivy was approached by a rake thin, elderly woman in an elaborate peacock-feathered headpiece and after a brief introduction, the ladies began to converse in earnest, their heads bent together, peacock feathers tilting alarmingly.