Scandal of the Year (25 page)

To Kasi, she said, “You may go now.”

The
ayah
looked from her to James, and back again. Then she took the box of pearls from Blythe. “I put these away for you, missy.”

She shuffled into the adjoining dressing room.

Blythe fumed in silence, aware that she couldn’t confront James while the
ayah
remained within earshot. Nevertheless, she turned a fierce look at him and motioned to him to enter the bedchamber. She could scarcely wait to give him a piece of her mind.

But her glare was short-lived.

As James walked in, Blythe noticed he was carrying something at his side. The large object was rounded at the top and draped with a cloth.

“Is that … a birdcage?” she asked in astonishment.

James nodded. “Very astute, Miss Crompton. It was delivered to you this morning.”

He placed it on a table by the window and whisked off the covering. Inside an ornate brass cage, a small yellow bird sat on a perch. As soon as the sunlight bathed the cage, the bird fluttered its wings and launched into a cheery warble.

Nothing could have been designed as a more perfect distraction from her ire.

Enchanted, she hurried over for a closer look. She had seen many exotic birds in India, but none as sweet and pretty as this one. “What a darling little thing! Is it a bunting?”

“A grassland finch, if I’m not mistaken.”

She glanced inquiringly at James, then returned her attention to the bird, watching as it flew down to the floor of the cage to peck at a pile of seeds with its short brown beak. “What a marvelous present. I’ve never received anything quite like it. Who is it from?”

“Prince Nicolai.”

Her gaze snapped to James. A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes held a gleam of warmth as if he were hoping she would be pleased. An involuntary surge of pleasure flowed like heated honey through her.

He
had given her this gift.

Why? To support the pretense that Prince Nicolai really existed?

Or was it a peace offering to get himself out of trouble?

Another possibility took hold in her heart. Maybe James had a deeper reason. Maybe he wanted to make her happy, to see her face light up with joy. Because he had fallen madly in love with her …

The thought was too dangerously alluring. She must not allow herself to believe such a forbidden thing. It was far more likely that he was merely trying to mollify her after his act of insubordination the previous evening.

Regardless of his motive, the bird and its cage had to have cost him a considerable sum. Such an extravagant gift would beggar a man of his station. Since she had not yet paid him for his part in the ruse, James must have used his meager wages—the wages he’d once professed to be saving to buy passage to India and make his fortune as her father had done.

“Such birds are common to the tropics,” James said. “I would venture to guess the prince acquired it on his world travels.” He handed her a sealed letter. “Perhaps this contains an explanation.”

Automatically, Blythe took the folded note from him. But she didn’t open it. Rather, she glanced at the door of the dressing room, stepped closer, and whispered, “It’s a wonderful gift, James, but truly you shouldn’t have done this.”

“Me? You can thank Prince Nicolai the next time you see him.”

“Don’t be absurd. You spent your own funds. I’ll reimburse you, if you like.”

His face hardened. “Absolutely not. I’ll hear nothing of the sort.”

Blythe hardly knew what to think. Was it pride that kept him from accepting her money? Or did he consider her offer an insult for a gift freely given? His purpose still eluded her. Even if James had meant only to salve her anger, she had to admit he had done so in a stunningly romantic manner.

And she felt a most imprudent desire to throw her arms around his neck and thank him with a kiss.

Fortunately, Kasi emerged from the dressing room at that moment, and when she spied the bird, her face beamed with delight. The
ayah
trotted forward to peer into the brass cage, bending down to cluck her tongue. The finch tilted its head and chirped in reply.

“What is name?” Kasi asked.

“I haven’t yet thought of one,” Blythe said, smiling at them.

“Since she’s a gift from Prince Nicolai,” James said, “Amora would be suitable. If I’m not mistaken, that is the name of Ambrosia’s most famous princess.”

Flustered, Blythe aimed a frown at James. He was referring to the princess who had been held captive in a gilded cage by an ogre until she was rescued by a stable lad. The princess who had fallen in love with her hero and lived happily ever after.

But it wouldn’t do for the
ayah
to wonder how an English footman knew anything of Ambrosia’s history.

“Kasi, please convey my thanks to Mama for the pearls. You must do so straightaway so you don’t forget.”

The
ayah
raised an eyebrow, looking from Blythe to James. Her dark gaze held his as if she were attempting to see into his soul. But she said nothing, merely pressed her palms together and bowed.

As the Hindu woman left the bedchamber, Blythe made haste to shut the door.

“I’m not one to believe in the power of the evil eye,” James said. “However, I had the distinct impression just now that she knows about us.”

Dredging up anger, Blythe came toward him. “What do you mean? She can’t have guessed that you’re posing as Prince Nicolai—despite your mention of that phony legend. Nor can she know that you disobeyed my express orders last night.”

“I merely meant that she senses the attraction between us.”

Her gaze locked with his. The heat of desire flashed through Blythe and she knew from the intensity of his eyes that he felt it too. He glanced at the bed, but made no move to touch her. She felt a breathless hunger to lock the door and invite him to have his wicked way with her.

Nothing could be more foolish.

“Never mind Kasi,” Blythe said firmly. “I need to have a word with you about your behavior. You took a terrible risk coming into my sister’s party after I’d warned you not to do so.”

Crossing his arms, he propped his shoulder against the wall in a casual pose. “You haven’t yet read the note I gave you.”

Resisting the tug of curiosity, she tossed the sealed paper down beside the bird cage. “No more of your distractions. I would like an explanation at once. Why did you disregard my wishes?”

He shrugged. “Lady Davina began to grow suspicious when I refused to accompany her into the house. I had to do something to reassure her. Joining the party seemed the only way to allay her doubts.”

His reason had merit, but Blythe wasn’t ready to forgive him. “Nevertheless, you should never have done so without my permission. There are dozens of mistakes you might have made. If you’d been exposed as an imposter, there would have been a terrible scandal, not just for me but for my whole family.”

James came closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m very sorry to have caused you distress, Blythe. Believe me, that was never my intention.”

The sincerity of his apology threatened to disperse her righteous anger, so she pulled out of his grasp. “I’m not through. What’s worse is that you’ve arranged this drive in the park for today. We will encounter all manner of the ton—especially when gossip spreads of the prince’s appearance there.”

“You wished for an opportunity to be with Savoy. I’ve given it to you.”

“At a time and a place of
my
choosing.” Blythe needed to impress upon him the difficult position in which he had placed her. “There are many considerations you’ve ignored. As the prince,
you
issued the invitation, which means
you
are obliged to provide the coach. And that puts
me
to the trouble of arranging for one. Not to mention I shall have to procure another suit of clothing for you.”

James looked unperturbed. “This morning, Lady Mansfield sent a message to Godwin, instructing him that she requires my services this afternoon to clean glassware from the party. I suspect she is readying the prince’s garb and his coach at this very moment.” A smile played at one corner of his mouth. “A very resourceful woman, your sister.”

Blythe wasn’t reassured. Rather, she felt as if the situation had spiraled out of her control. Frowning, she nibbled on her thumbnail. “That’s all well and good. However, I don’t like having to depend upon her—or you—to solve my problems.”

James caught her hand and brought it to his lips. His dark eyes held her spellbound. “You must lay your worries to rest,” he said in the soul-stirring accent of Prince Nicolai. “All will be fine. Trust me, my darling.”

While she stood bemused, he turned on his heel and strode out of the bedchamber.
My darling
. She felt warm all over. Did he really feel a strong affection for her, or was he merely playing a part? Blythe wished she knew for certain. It was disturbing how easily he switched between the roles of footman and prince.

The sound of happy chirping drew her to the finch’s cage. Whatever his intention, James had thrilled her with his gift. It showed a thoughtfulness and an originality she hadn’t seen in any of her suitors.

Then Blythe noticed the abandoned letter. Curious, she broke the red sealing wax and unfolded the paper to find a message written in his bold, distinctive hand.

My dearest Miss Crompton,

May this humble gift win your pardon for my neglect of you last evening. I hope you will understand that circumstances required me to pay heed to other guests when I wished only to be alone with you. Pray allow me to make amends and know that I am counting the hours until we meet again. I remain your most ardent admirer,

Nicolai Aleksander Leonide Pashenka, Crown Prince of Ambrosia

Blythe clutched the note to her bosom as the weakness of yearning swept through her. Anyone else would assume the note was authentic. Mama would deem it a clear indication of the prince’s interest in her. Only Blythe could see the hidden meanings, that James was apologizing for upsetting her plans, that he had not meant to cause her anxiety, and that she was definitely not to think that he had any real interest in Lady Davina. Once again, he was doing so in a wildly charming way that warmed her heart.

It was a game to him, Blythe told herself. Yet that explanation no longer rang true. She had the distinct impression that James had another purpose.

He was using the guise of the prince in order to court her himself.

Chapter 23

As the open landau proceeded through the open gates at Hyde Park Corner, Blythe found herself relaxing for the first time since the shock James had dealt her the previous night. There was something about an excursion that always made her happy. How could she fret on such a splendid spring day?

Clusters of daffodils dotted the greensward on either side of the road. The harness of the horses jingled in harmony with the twittering of the birds. Lulled by the gentle rocking of the coach, she tilted up her face to the afternoon sun and relished the warmth on her skin.

“I see that you like the outdoors, Miss Crompton.”

Prince Nicolai’s deep voice drew her attention to him. He and Lady Davina occupied the seat opposite Blythe and the Duke of Savoy.

Looking at James, she felt a little clutch in her chest. In the charcoal-gray coat and buff breeches, he appeared every inch a royal. His transformation involved more than a mere change of clothing. He exuded the natural confidence of a man who has been born to wealth and privilege.

It remained a mystery to her how a footman could manage to impersonate a prince so well. More and more she was learning that James was a man of many talents. There could be no doubt he would succeed in life at whatever he did.

At the moment, his dark eyes held a hint of mischief. He was enjoying the masquerade, and he wanted her to do so, too. Blythe smiled at him, for now that she’d overcome the alarm of seeing Prince Nicolai in society, it truly
was
amusing to keep such a delicious secret from their companions.

“I do like the outdoors,” she replied. “I grew up in India, where the sun is always hot and bright. My sisters and I spent a great deal of time outside.”

Lady Davina adjusted the pink parasol to shade her face. “I cannot imagine doing such a thing. Everyone knows that the sun’s rays are harmful to a lady’s delicate complexion.”

In her present good humor, Blythe could not take offense at the girl’s pretentiousness. “That must be why Mama would so often scold us that we looked as brown as the natives.”

“How vulgar.” The duke’s daughter tut-tutted. “Gentlemen prefer ladies to take more care with their appearance. Don’t you agree, Your Highness?”

“A bit of sun can be beneficial,” James said. “I’ve often thought that it lends an attractive glow to a lady’s face.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting that ladies abandon their bonnets and parasols.”

“In the kingdom of Ambrosia, our noblewomen have a great love for the sun. Only nuns and elderly widows cover their heads.”

Davina looked so dismayed that Blythe bit her lip to stifle a laugh. How wicked James was! And how wicked he tempted her to be. She had the mad urge to untie the ribbons beneath her chin and toss her straw bonnet into the wind. How lovely it would feel to let the breeze stir her hair, to enjoy freedom from the cage of conventions required by society.

Instead, she turned to the duke. He had been sitting placidly, his gouty leg stretched out, and Blythe was chagrined to recall that she had never fetched him the pillow he’d requested the previous evening. She had forgotten everything in the drama of seeing James as Prince Nicolai.

Today she would make up for her neglect.

“What say you, Your Grace? Will you weigh in on our debate?”

Smiling, he reached out to pat her hand. “Both you and my daughter are lovely. I would not dare to disagree with either of you.”

Lady Davina pouted. “Oh, Papa. You are just being polite.”

Catching Blythe’s eye, James waggled a dark eyebrow. He did it so swiftly that no one but she caught the movement. A bubble of mirth rose in her. Once again, Blythe had the distinct impression that he was flirting with her—just as he had done by giving her the caged finch, and just as he had done by writing that stirringly romantic note from Prince Nicolai.