Perilous Princess: A Sexy Historical Romance Page 7

  “Simple, hey? You force yourself into my home, you demand to speak to the Royal Princess and have me produce her for you like a pig at a fair. What next? You will inspect her teeth?”

  Rhys edged toward the staircase, trying to move in a way that didn’t draw the Duke’s attention.

  Suddenly, the door behind the Duke was thrown open. A large figure stepped out.

  And roared.

  The sound made Rhys jump, for it was a most inhuman noise. The Prince—for it could be no one else—raised his hands above his head and made the same terrible noise and flung himself at them. His hands were outstretched, the fingers bent into claws.

  Seth stepped in the way, grabbing the Prince’s wrists and struggling to contain him.

  “Rhys, go,” Vaughn said sharply and moved toward the Duke.

  Rhys needed no more encouragement. He raced up the stairs to the next floor. Behind him, he heard the Duke cry out in protest, but didn’t stop. On the landing, he began to open doors one after another.

  One of the bedrooms held a large canopied bed and there was a figure lying beneath the sheets. Soft snoring came from the bed. This had to be Annalies’ mother, the Princess Cathrine, who was bed-ridden and had not been seen since the family arrived in England. Rhys quietly shut the door again.

  He opened the next door on a dark and empty room. The third door did not budge underneath his hand. He opened the last two doors on the landing to satisfy himself that Anna was not behind either of them. Then he raced back to the locked door. He didn’t stop when he reached it. Instead, he rammed his shoulder against it.

  The lock was a stout one and did not give way as he expected. He threw his weight against the door two more times, but the door merely shivered inside the frame and remained where it was.

  He looked around the almost completely dark landing. Only the street light outside the house provided any illumination.

  There was no furniture to speak of on the landing, but there was a wooden column holding up a potted plant that even in the dark looked like it was ailing. He put the plant on the ground and picked up the carved column. It was heavy and would do nicely as a ram. He took it back to the door, gripped it in both arms and swung it against the lock.

  This time, there was a splintering sound.

  He swung again. “Anna!” he called out, for the lack of sound beyond the door was disturbing. But this had to be her room. There was no other.

  From the floor below, he could hear cries and the sounds of struggle. No one climbed the stairs.

  He rammed the column against the door once more and this time the door shifted open with a squeal of wood on wood. An inch showed between door and frame. Encouraged, Rhys dropped the column and threw himself against the door. Now he understood that it wasn’t simply the lock holding him at bay. There was something else, probably a chair under the door knob, holding the door closed. The legs were scraping across the floor, resisting his entry.

  He kept at it and the door finally opened enough for him to squeeze through.

  The window faced the street and the same glowing light permeated the room. There was very little furniture. Just a narrow bed, a wash stand and a large wardrobe against the wall opposite the window. No carpets covered the floor. No feminine frills or fripperies laid anywhere. But on the chest of drawers beside the window were piles of books, stacked lying down so more could be stored there. In front of them were her spectacles.

  “Rhys, hurry man!” Seth called.

  Rhys yanked the chair out from under the door knob and put it to one side. Then he went over to the bed.

  Anna lay under the coverlet on her side. She looked like she was sleeping, but when Rhys put his hand on her shoulder and shook, she only stirred sluggishly.

  He rolled her onto her back, the golden hair streaming across the pillow behind her. That was when he saw her eye.

  Fury washed through him, so hot and so large that for a moment he stood with his hands clenched, aching to act on it. He swallowed a moan of loathing for the men downstairs. He didn’t doubt that it was they who had done this to her.

  Instead of striking out, he bent and scooped Anna up into his arms, bringing the eiderdown with her.

  She stirred and groaned, her one good eye opening to show a sliver of blue.

  “You’re safe now,” he whispered.

  Almost as if she heard him, or knew that it was him, she rested her head against his shoulder. Her eye closed.

  * * * * *

  As Rhys climbed down to the main floor, he saw that Seth and Vaughn had the two monsters under control. Vaughn had the Duke face down on the tiles, his boot on the back of the man’s head.

  Seth was sitting on top of the Prince’s chest, wearing a wide grin. As the Prince stirred, Seth patted his cheek in warning.

  They both looked up as Rhys turned at the landing and made his way down with Anna, stepping carefully.

  “Bloody hell, you’re not thinking of taking her with us, are yer?” Seth said, his astonishment pushing his Australian drawl to the fore.

  The Duke tried to protest, but Vaughn leaned on his knee, putting pressure on the back of the man’s neck. “Shh…” He looked up at Rhys again. “Are you sure, Rhys?”

  “Look at her face. Then you tell me,” Rhys said shortly, his temper stirring afresh. He reached the light spilling out from the front room and nodded down at Anna.

  Vaughn looked over and his face tightened. “Very well,” he said simply. “Seth, we’re leaving.”

  “With the lass, then?” Seth asked.

  “Yes. Is the Prince likely to give us any more grief?”

  “I’m pretty sure we’ve come to an agreement, him and me,” Seth said and got to his feet. The Prince remained lying where he was, barely moving.

  “Will he recover?” Rhys asked. He didn’t ask out of any particular concern for the Prince’s hide, but because he was trying to assemble all the legal precedents and possibilities that might come out of this night. But his fury was still too hot to let him think very clearly.

  “He’ll recover just fine,” Seth said. “More’s the pity.”

  “Vaughn, will you take her for a moment, please?” Rhys asked.

  Vaughn lifted Anna out of his arms.

  Rhys bent down next to the Duke, who rolled over on his side and looked up at them, puzzled, as if he had never been so treated in his life and couldn’t believe it had happened now.

  Rhys gave him a stiff smile. “We’re going to take Annalies somewhere safe, where she can recover with proper medical treatment. After that, we will decide whether it is safe for you and your brother to see her.”

  “You cannot steal a man’s daughter,” the Duke mumbled.

  “I think you’ll find that Annalies is quite willing to leave,” Rhys told him. “If she was capable of speech, that is. You can try going to the police about this, Duke, but I warn you that I know many judges and most of those judges are grateful to me for my help in having their cases proceed with little trouble from fractious witnesses. They will listen to me if I come to them with my story about how a foreign prince and his brother have been beating a woman repeatedly and systematically. I will mention madness and fits of rage and there will most certainly be a court journalist nearby when I do.” He paused. “I am quite sure the Queen would be horrified to have the family history paraded through the newspapers in this fashion, don’t you?”

  The Duke swallowed. After a moment he nodded.

  Rhys patted his shoulder. “Then we have an understanding. Good evening, Your Grace.”

  He got to his feet, took Anna back from Vaughn and nodded. “Let’s leave this place.”

  Vaughn gave him a small smile. “The sooner the better.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next four weeks were the most peaceful Anna could remember since being a very small child.

  She woke to dappled sunlight pouring through a window, bathing the bed she laid upon with bright, warm light. Birds chirped outside the open wind
ow. She knew it was morning by the smell of the fresh air coming through the window.

  She had no idea where she was, but she knew with absolute certainty that Rhys had brought her here and that he would be somewhere nearby. She could remember being lifted and his voice telling her she was safe and it had let her sleep with utter abandonment.

  Someone had removed her camisole and pantalets and she now wore an embroidered nightdress of fine cotton.

  She blinked again, looking at the sunlight playing on the bed cover. She was seeing it with both eyes. The left eye hurt, but she hadn’t been blinded. She sent out thoughts of gratitude to Mother Mary for sparing her sight.

  “Oh, you’re awake, yer ‘ighness.” The speaker moved around the head of the bed into her line of sight. It was a maid, her apron stiff with starch. She gave a little bob. “I’ll let the mistress know yer awake right away. Are you ‘ungry, ma’am?”

  “Not at all,” Anna told her. “But I am rather thirsty.”

  “I’ll bring yer back some water. And tea.”

  “Tea would be wonderful.”

  The maid hurried away and she heard the door shut, but it was behind the bed and she would have to climb out of the bed to see it. She was reluctant to do that. For the first time in days she was almost completely free of pain and was content to stay right where she was. The peace wouldn’t last, after all. It never did.

  She discovered quite quickly that she was in the house of Lord Vaughn Wardell and his lady wife, Elisa. She thought she might have met them once, but didn’t remember them at all.

  Elisa did not seem at all put out that Anna did not know who she was. She arrived with the tea the maid had scurried to get when Anna awoke and settled herself on the chair at the foot of the bed, that faced Anna’s pillow. Anna wondered if anyone had been sitting there while she slept. The position of the chair seemed to suggest they had.

  Elisa arranged the folds of her voile wrapper around her knees and smiled at Anna as the maid settled a tray with a pot of tea and milk and sugar on the bed next to Anna’s hip. “My name is Elisa. I’m quite sure you don’t remember me, for we were introduced at Almack’s and you were meeting everyone for the first time.”

  “I remember that night,” Anna said. “There were a lot of people to meet, yes.” She looked around. “Rhys brought me here?”

  “Late last night,” Elisa said.

  “My mother….” Anna said quickly, then hesitated. How could she voice concern for her mother’s welfare without mentioning why her mother might need protection?

  But Elisa shook her head. “Your mother is safe and as well as she might be. Rhys saw her sleeping peacefully in her bed when he collected you.”

  Anna bit her lip. Her mother knew to lock the door on those nights when her father drank and would stir herself enough to creep across her bedroom to turn the key. In truth, her father’s mad fits had grown more focused upon Anna these last few years. Since arriving in England her father had left her mother quite alone.

  Elisa had expressive eyes that grew warmer. “You may stay here as long as you wish. No one will force you to do anything that you do not want to do.”

  Anna bit her lip. She had to ask the question, but her cheeks warmed as she spoke the forbidden subject aloud. “My father…may object.”

  “I believe Rhys has taken care of that objection already.”

  “What did he do?” Anna asked, alarmed.

  Elisa smiled. “Rhys did nothing violent, although I believe Lord Innesford may have blackened your father’s eye.” She nodded toward Anna’s face. “A small and fair exchange in my estimation.”

  Anna gripped the cover, squeezing. The conversation was drawing perilously close to areas she had never spoken of, but she must have news of her family. She needed to know that her father would not come to this house with her uncle and England’s police force at his back. “My father will be angry,” she said slowly.

  “I am quite sure he will be,” Elisa said calmly. “But you must understand, Your Highness, that Rhys Davies is one of the best attorneys in all of London. He has legal resources that your father, so new to the country, will not be able to gainsay. I do believe that is what Rhys is doing at this very moment. So you see, there is absolutely nothing to worry about. You are quite safe in this house. My butler saw your condition when Rhys brought you here last night and I believe he may have my husband’s hunting rifle stationed by the front door. He is a former Sergeant Major and very good at repelling unwelcome visitors.”

  Anna felt muscles relax that she didn’t realize were clenched. Elisa’s calmness and her acceptance were very reassuring. So was the professed competence of Elisa’s butler. “I think…I believe it would be more appropriate if you were to call me Anna,” she said.

  “Thank you, Anna,” Elisa said. “Do you feel ready to receive visitors? I know that Rhys will want to stop by this evening after his work is done, to see for himself that you are recovering.”

  Anna brought her hand up to her face. She couldn’t help it. “Is this very ugly?” she asked.

  Elisa studied her frankly. “I don’t think Rhys cares about that in the slightest.”

  But Anna suddenly did. She had never worried a whit about her appearance until this moment, when she was possibly at her worst.

  Elisa smiled. “But I can have my maid come and comb out your hair and I have a ribbon to tie it back with.” She got to her feet. “It has just gone noon. Perhaps, another sleep this afternoon will help. Then a light supper. My cook has a duck soup she has been cooking for a few days. The smell from the kitchen is heavenly. I’ll have her make up a small meal for you.”

  “Thank you, that would be very nice,” Anna said and stifled a sudden yawn.

  Elisa poured her a cup of tea, with quick deft moments. “Drink. Then sleep. You are perfectly safe in this house.” She pointed to the chest beside the bed. “There is a bell there, for you to call for whatever you need.”

  Anna did sleep away the afternoon. Elisa’s constant assurances that she was safe had their effect and a fatigue more intense than she had ever felt drugged her mind and her bones and she didn’t fight it. She slept the soundest sleep of her life.

  Later that first night, Rhys visited. He insisted that the maid, Jilly, stay in the room while he sat on the chair at the end of the bed. But he brought Anna a large bouquet of yellow roses, that the maid arranged in a vase.

  Rhys kept fingering the brim of his hat as he turned it over and over in his hands and he could barely meet her eyes.

  Anna felt the same odd awkwardness. Was this the way it always was with lovers, after their affair? Or was it because they had been interrupted? Would he feel more kindly toward her if they had consummated the evening properly? There was too much Anna didn’t know about the ways of lovers, that her books failed to detail—either because the details were too shocking, or perhaps they simply assumed everyone knew these things.

  She tried to ease the tension. “Thank you for coming to find me. I’m not sure what would have happened if you had not.”

  He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily. “Then, you do not mind that I have basically stolen you from your family?” For the first time, his gaze met hers.

  “I don’t mind at all. On the contrary, if I could have found a way to do this for myself, I would have done it many years ago. But I could never manage it on my own. For your help, I will be ever grateful, Rhys.”

  He nodded shortly, a frown between his brows, the dark eyes shadowed with some sort of trouble.

  “What is it you will not speak of?”

  Rhys sighed and rubbed his thumb over the crown of the hat. “I feel that what happened is my responsibility. If we—”

  “No, Rhys,” she said quickly, holding up her hand. “You cannot take any blame for this. None at all. You guessed rightly when you saw the bruises. My father’s illness has been growing worse for many years and the fits of madness more frequent, too. Nothing you have done or might do in the future will ch
ange the fact that my father is ill. My uncle, too, although he controls his much better.” She gave him a small smile. “So now you know my shameful family secret.”

  “There’s nothing shameful in it for you, Anna.” His voice was low.

  “It would be an embarrassment to my father and to the Queen if it became common knowledge,” she pointed out.

  “There is no danger of that,” he said quickly. “Not from me, or from either of the men who helped me last night. Your father and uncle will not make any fuss about your absence, either, because they fear public embarrassment just as much.”

  Something loosened in her. “That is how you managed it, then,” she murmured. “I wondered why my father or one of his people had not arrived upon the doorstep demanding my return.”

  “He will leave you in peace for now, but it is possible that sometime in the near future, you will need to meet with him, to show that you are not being abused at the hand of strangers.”

  She gave a choked laugh of disbelief. “After what he and my uncle have done for years and years, now they worry about my welfare?”

  “As you said, Anna, they are both ill.” Rhys leaned forward. “Do not let yourself grow bitter over the injustice of your early life. You will not like where that path takes you. Trust me on this.”

  She studied him. “You speak from experience,” she said slowly. “You were bitter about your father’s failure to acknowledge you?”

  “For many years, yes. Then a very good friend who had as much to be bitter about as I had his life turned inside out and he managed to let go of the ugliness and move on. He convinced me to do the same and he was right.”

  “He sounds like a very good friend indeed,” Anna said.

  “You’re in his house right now,” Rhys added.

  Anna’s eye widened. “Elisa’s husband? Lord Farleigh?”

  “Vaughn. Yes.”

  She let out her breath in a sigh. “Elisa is a wonderful lady.”

  “She is the reason Vaughn changed his life around. He managed to let go of his hatred for his father. You have a chance to avoid the hate altogether. Forgive your father for anything he has done to you, Anna. Look forward to the life you can make now, instead.”