The Accidental Princess (16 page)

‘If you don’t mind my saying so,’ Frau Dorfer spoke up, ‘your husband looks very much like our König Sweyn.’ Her face softened. ‘When he was younger, that is.’

At the admission, the woman suddenly grew fearful, as if she’d said too much. Herr Dorfer sent his wife a warning look, and she fell silent.

Hannah wasn’t about to lose the opportunity. Extending her hand to Michael, she sent him a silent signal for coins. Thankfully, he placed a handful into her palm. Hannah slid the money toward Frau Dorfer. ‘We are planning to visit the
Schloss
when we arrive in Vermisten. I would be grateful if you know someone who could answer our questions. We would like to seek an audience with the King.’

Frau Dorfer glanced at her husband, who offered a relenting nod. Her hand covered the coins. ‘I can answer your questions. I used to work in the
Schloss
as one of the maids before I married Helmut.’ Looking uncomfortable, she enquired,
‘But why do you seek the King?’ Her gaze travelled over Michael once more.

‘Ask her if she has heard the story of the Changeling Prince,’ Michael said.

Helmut exchanged glances with his wife after Hannah translated. Gerda’s face paled, and the pair argued for a moment.

It seemed Frau Dorfer won the disagreement, for she suggested to Hannah, ‘Go and speak to the master of the household, BurgGraf Castell. He can advise you and possibly arrange a private audience with the lord chamberlain, Herr Schliessing.’ She blushed. ‘The lord chamberlain would know what to do.’

After Hannah translated, Michael’s face tightened with frustration. Whether from the information or from his inability to speak, she wasn’t certain.

She thanked Frau Dorfer for the information, and the woman offered them the name of a respectable inn in Vermisten where they could stay.

‘And,’ Frau Dorfer added, ‘you would be wise to keep your husband’s appearance hidden, if possible, until you’ve been granted the audience. If anyone sees his resemblance to the King, his advisers may refuse to allow you entrance.’

Hannah nodded her thanks to Herr and Frau Dorfer before turning her attention back to her meal. Michael was eating while staring off into the distance, as if trying to recall the forgotten language.

Hannah kept their conversation in English to remain private. ‘I don’t believe you should seek a private audience with the lord chamberlain,’ she admitted. ‘It would be too easy for the King to brush you aside, pretending you don’t exist. I think we should make use of your appearance.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I believe you should confront them directly. Demand to see the King. Find out if you truly are the Prince.’

‘Twice, someone has tried to kill me,’ Michael pointed out.

‘That’s exactly why it must be true. Someone considers you a threat. And he wants you dead.’

T
hey spent the remainder of the afternoon in Michael’s own personal version of Hades. Shopping.

He had allowed Hannah to drag him from one shop to the next, while she ordered clothes for him. He’d paid for them with the money the Graf had given him.

Hannah was adamant that he be clothed like a member of the royal household. From sports attire to formal evening wear, it seemed she hadn’t missed a single thing. Not even hats, gloves or…undergarments. Michael shuddered at the last shop. Some things weren’t meant to be measured or prodded.

‘The Graf was right about this,’ Hannah had explained. ‘It’s about appearances.’

‘And we couldn’t have ordered everything at the first shop?’

‘Of course not!’ She eyed him as though he’d suggested wearing rags to greet the monarch. ‘You need to be seen by as many people as possible today. Then the King cannot ignore your presence. He’ll have to help you discover the truth.’

It was also a much greater risk. Michael couldn’t abandon his old habits of constantly looking over his shoulder. There had already been two attacks—a third was imminent, and he didn’t want Hannah caught up in it. The threat would come—
the only question was when, not if. By then, he hoped to have Hannah escorted back to her cousins’ home.

Glancing at her, he saw her face bright with enthusiasm. She was enjoying the afternoon they’d spent together, though she hadn’t bought a single thing for herself. It struck him as wrong, and he took her to one of the shops, hoping she could have a new dress made.

‘There’s no need,’ Hannah protested. ‘Don’t waste a penny on me. I’ll have plenty of gowns, once my trunks arrive with the Graf.’

But when he saw her eye drawn to the milliner’s, he sent her to choose a new bonnet. While she was busy with the shopkeeper, he slipped next door to make another purchase.

The gift cost far more than he’d anticipated, but it was something he wanted Hannah to have. Michael used the last of his own savings, instead of money given by the Graf. He hid the gift inside his pocket, wrapped in brown paper, and made it back inside the milliner’s before Hannah realised he’d left her.

Hours later, after dinner when they were back inside their room at the inn, Hannah sank down into a chair. ‘My feet are exhausted,’ she said, unfastening her shoes. ‘I feel as though we walked twenty miles today.’

He ventured a smile, suddenly feeling anxious to give her the gift he’d purchased. He wanted to see her expression when she opened the parcel.

‘Here.’ He thrust the box at her without a word of explanation. ‘This is for you.’

She set her stocking feet back on the carpet, accepting the box. ‘Now when did you get this?’ With a soft smile, she added, ‘I hope it’s something sweet.’

She tore open the brown paper, and lifted open the box. Inside rested a diamond-and-aquamarine ring.

Hannah didn’t react, or say a word. She simply stared at the jewellery. He hadn’t had but a few minutes this afternoon, but the moment he’d seen it in the shop, he’d known it was meant for her.

‘Well, go on. See if it fits.’

He removed the ring from the box and slid it on the third finger of her left hand. ‘I can have the jeweller adjust the size, if needed.’

Fate was on his side, for the ring fit beautifully. Hannah clutched the diamonds, staring at him. ‘Michael, what have you done?’

‘You’ve told everyone we’re married. Don’t you think they would wonder why you aren’t wearing a ring?’

She shook her head, her face paling. ‘You can’t afford this. It’s too much.’

Though that might be true, his pride bristled. If he wanted to spend his savings on her, that was his choice. And this was something he wanted her to have as a memento of their time together. Something to keep, that would make her think of him.

‘Don’t worry about the cost.’

She took the ring off, pressing it back into his hands. ‘You shouldn’t have done this. I can’t accept it.’

The small bit of metal seemed to burn into his skin. Why couldn’t she?

‘Isn’t it good enough for you?’ The bitter words escaped him before he could stop them.

The stricken look on her face was worse than a slap. God knew he deserved it. He was behaving like a child, sulking because she didn’t like the ring. But it was the first time he’d had any money at all to spend on her. And she didn’t want the gift.

‘You don’t understand.’ She spoke quietly, averting her gaze. ‘I can’t accept a ring from you. We aren’t really married.’

‘No. But it will keep others from talking.’ He came and held out the ring in his palm. ‘Take it.’

She shook her head slowly. ‘This is too much. I can’t take a ring made of diamonds.’

‘Why not?’ He’d expected her to love the jewellery, to be pleased with the setting. Not give him reasons why she couldn’t wear it. ‘I’m not the only man who’s given you jewels, am I?’

‘You’re not my father or brother. It isn’t suitable.’

‘Everyone believes I am your husband.’

‘Can’t you understand?’ she whispered, standing up. Her hands covered his. ‘This ring means you’re making a sacrifice for me. You’re giving up too much. I’m not worth that to you.’

‘I’ll determine what you’re worth. And I’ll be damned if I give you a ring made of tin.’

She blinked hard, sitting back down again. Her palms rested on her gown, and she refused to look at him. ‘I can’t take it, Michael,’ she whispered. ‘Not only because of the cost…but because I would want it to mean something more.’

Hannah heard Michael leave their shared room after he’d shoved the ring back inside his pocket. After he’d gone, she released the harsh tears gathering in her throat.

It was a beautiful ring. A stunning cluster of diamonds and aquamarines that she would be honoured to wear, if it were a true wedding ring.

She drew her feet up beneath her skirts, her corset cutting into her ribs as the unwanted tears streamed down her face. Why had he done this? He knew their arrangement was only temporary. After he had the answers he sought, she would be out of his life. It had to be that way, and both of them knew it.

He’d been so angry when he left. Would he want her to leave now? The thought of travelling to Germany without knowing his fate was like a hand strangling her breath.

She was losing her heart to this man, whether he was a common soldier or a forgotten Prince. Somehow, he’d
guessed at the hidden feelings inside her. Her secret, that she wanted to take every stolen moment she could with him, no matter how great the cost. She wanted him to touch her, to make her come alive the way he had upon the ship.

The bedroom seemed unexpectedly empty. Hannah stared at the bed, realising that she’d never truly thought about where they would sleep tonight. Did she dare rest beside him, the way a true wife would?

She sat down upon the coverlet, running her fingers over the worn quilt. Today there had been nothing untoward about his behaviour. He’d endured the shopping trip, letting her order purchases for him, though she could see that he didn’t care for it at all.

He must have gone to the jeweller’s while she was trying on bonnets. It had been such a short moment, but he’d seized it. For her.

Well done, Hannah. The man spent a fortune on you, and you cast it back in his face.

But she couldn’t let him do it. Not even if he had a fortune to spend. A ring like that, so personal, so precious. It was something she would treasure for the rest of her life.

If she accepted it, the gift would haunt her, reminding her of the feelings she held for him.

She sat up, suddenly afraid of where he’d gone. Michael couldn’t go out walking alone, not when it was such a risk. He’d been shot only two days ago. What if someone attacked him?

It was far too dangerous. Hannah pushed her feet back into her shoes, not even bothering to finish buttoning them. She flew down the stairs and pushed her way past the other guests who were enjoying their dinners downstairs.

She found the Lieutenant inside the stables, tending his horse. With a sharp look towards the stable lad, she asked for a moment alone with her ‘husband’. The boy tipped his cap and waited outside.

Standing behind Michael, she wondered what she could say. The acrid odour of the stalls surrounded them, not exactly the best place for an apology.

‘Michael,’ she murmured, ‘will you come back inside?’

He didn’t turn around at first, but kept brushing the horse’s back in slow, even strokes.

‘Go back to our room, Hannah. It’s been a long day, and I know you’re tired. I’ll be up later.’

She couldn’t bring herself to leave him. By refusing his gift, she’d wounded his pride. She touched the sleeve of his coat, resting her forehead against his shoulder. ‘Don’t be angry with me.’ A thousand excuses tangled up in her mouth, but all of them were a mockery of what she was feeling right now.

‘I’m not angry.’ His clipped voice belied the words. ‘It was an inappropriate gift. You were right.’

‘It was a beautiful ring,’ she said, stepping between him and the horse. Trapped in his arms, she gave him no choice but to look at her. ‘And if circumstances were different, I would be proud to wear it.’

‘But they aren’t.’ He set down the brush and let his hands rest on her waist. In his eyes, she saw disappointment, masked by duty. Didn’t he understand why she had refused the ring? Didn’t he know that she was trying to keep both of them from being hurt?

‘Go back, Hannah. I want a moment to myself.’

She couldn’t do it. If she left him right now, the breach would only widen. He’d sleep on the floor and within another day or two, she would be inside a coach, bound for Germany.

He’s going to break my heart
, she thought.
But there wasn’t another choice, was there?

She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, while she tried to show him what she felt. The desires she couldn’t voice, the forbidden yearning to steal whatever moments she could.

At first, he didn’t kiss her back. But as she pressed her mouth to his, slowly tempting him to yield, she felt his arms tighten.

His kiss was tentative at first, as though he weren’t sure she truly wanted him. Hannah gripped his neck, hoping he would respond to her invitation.

‘Don’t hold back from me,’ she whispered, when his mouth broke free from hers. ‘Not tonight.’

Michael brought her against the door to one of the stalls, lifting her up while he kissed her hard. ‘I’m no good for you, Hannah.’

‘I don’t care any more. I need you.’ She held on tight, shuddering when his thigh slid between her legs. Hard and firm, he nudged her, making her ride him.

Though anyone who happened upon them would only see a husband and a wife caught in an embrace, beneath her skirts, he made her feel completely vulnerable.

‘Take me back upstairs,’ she whispered.

‘In a moment.’ He took her mouth roughly, his hands dragging through her hair. Pins fell everywhere while he kissed her, his tongue teasing in the intimate act she feared. Her mouth was numb, swollen from his kiss, while she ached between her legs. When he pressed his thigh between her legs again, she couldn’t stop the shattered gasp that escaped. It was like the night upon the ship, only this time, the impact was far greater.

That night, she’d suspected they would not become lovers. But now, she wasn’t certain how far she would let him go.

Michael slid her down, touching his head to hers. ‘What are you doing, Hannah?’

She shivered, fighting to catch her breath. ‘I think you know.’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her outside the stable. Hannah knew the stable lad could have guessed what happened to her, for her hair was falling about her shoulders, her face flushed with unfulfilled need.

When they reached the doors to the inn, Michael stopped short. ‘Go up to our room and wait for me there. I’ll only be a moment.’

She fled up the stairs, not looking at any of the guests and praying they weren’t staring at her dishevelled appearance. When she reached her room, she took off her shoes again, blindly pulling at the remainder of pins that held up her hair.

Oh, heaven. What was she about to do?

She stared at the solitary bed and the flickering candle illuminating the small space. Everything about this room was primed for a seduction. One she wasn’t ready for.

It was too easy, falling into his arms within the stable. Now that he’d given her a moment alone to think, her mind was screaming out every lecture her mother had ever given.

Never let a man touch you, unless he is your husband. Not even a kiss. And especially never let him see so much as a bared ankle
.

The door opened, and Michael stood with something hidden behind his back. Hannah craned her neck to see what it was, and then spied a covered plate.

Michael removed the cover and revealed a thick slice of cake with buttercream icing.

Hannah didn’t smile, though it appeared mouth-watering. Glancing at the dessert, she mentioned, ‘You…forgot to bring a fork or a spoon.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

She didn’t know what he meant by that, but sensual images of him feeding her from his fingertips suddenly erupted in her mind.

Michael set the plate down upon the dresser and closed the distance. He moved behind her, his hands upon the buttons of her gown. Though Hannah tried to relax, her skin had gone cold. It was easier to imagine surrendering to him when he was kissing her, not allowing her to think.

Instead, his hands flicked over the buttons of her gown, one by one. Her mind was raging that she should stop him and hold fast to her innocence. Her body tensed as more and more skin was revealed.

‘I know you’re afraid,’ he whispered, dropping a kiss on her nape, ‘but you have no maid, and you cannot sleep in your corset.’

He was offering her the choice, she realised. He would not ask for more than she was willing to give.

‘If you’d prefer, I could ask one of the maids downstairs to come up and assist you.’

She let out a shaky breath. That would be the easiest course of action, but it would also raise unnecessary questions about why she wasn’t allowing her husband to unfasten her gown.