The Third Son (10 page)

“I’m sorry,” she said, standing to put some distance between them. “You have to understand-” 

“But I do understand,” he interjected, saving her from having to explain. “You are innocent, and you do not normally allow yourself to be so close to a man.”

“I liked kissing you,” she admitted.

Damien smiled. “I’d like to kiss you
some more
,” he said, standing and taking her hand. “That is, if you want to see me again. I cannot really explain it to you without sounding completely insane, but something that your grandmother told me last night has made me eager to get to know you.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That is not important. What is important is that I see you.”

She nodded. “I would like that.”

He led her by the hand through the doors of the balcony and into his room. “How on earth did you manage to get in here?” he asked, remembering the guards standing outside his chambers. “There are guards at every entrance to the palace.”

“Not at the servant’s entrance,” she replied, shoving the ridiculous white cap back over her head and tucking her hair into it. “My cousin and I managed to sneak into the kitchen and follow your bath water up here.”

“How convenient,” Damien said with a laugh. “Let me walk you back to the kitchen.” 

Esmeralda shook her head, pulling her hand from his. “It would seem odd, you accompanying a maid to the kitchen. I remember the way out. I’ll be fine.”

He would worry for her, but he knew she was right. The guards would see her leaving and think a maid had stayed behind for a tryst with the prince. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, he thought. He kissed her swiftly on the lips and on the cheek and opened the door for her.
Damien
watched until she had disappeared around the corner before closing the door and leaning against it with a deep sigh. 

The water had grown tepid during his encounter with Esmeralda, and Damien had ordered the tub refilled. He so hated to trouble the servants but he needed to sooth his body and calm his racing mind. Once the tub was filled with fresh, steaming water Damien lowered himself in and sighed. His usual decanter of brandy and glass sat on the table near his drying towels. He grasped the already filled glass and sipped distractedly as he allowed his mind to run over the short time since he had met Esmeralda. 

Three days, he reflected; three days since she’d come to the palace to dance and set his very soul on fire. He could hardly turn his thoughts from her, though he had tried mightily. No woman had ever so invaded his mind, or made him want to share a part of him that he had long ago learned to keep to himself.

Christ, he had told her things he had never admitted to anyone, about his own insecurities as the youngest son and his dream of opening a university. What could possibly have possessed him, he wondered. He had strived to keep his relationships with the
opposite
sex on a fairly shallow level. Until now. 

He’d wanted Esmeralda to know things about him, to respect him as he did her. He blamed Akira. The woman had filled his mind with visions of her granddaughter locked in his embrace and intrigued him with her cryptic words. He drained the glass and reached for the decanter to refill it, but found he had no desire to intoxicate himself as he did nearly every night.

Damien
had planned to skip the small musicale planned for the first few guests that had arrived and indulge in a night of cards at one of his clubs.
T
he idea no longer appealed to him. Besides, he had no desire to incur his brother’s wrath so soon after the festivities had begun. He had already ordered his evening clothes readied, and so he made the decision to alter his plans. 

Davina would most likely be present, though the idea of her company held as little appeal as did cards and drink. He had already been thinking about ending his association with his long-standing mistress, though he had yet to do it. He would do his best to avoid her snares this evening and choose a less public place to let her down gently.
Damien
would have a contract drawn up making her the owner of the townhouse he had purchased for her to live in and find a nice, expensive parting gift to mollify her.

Satisfied with his decision, Damien washed quickly and dried. He was determined to make it through the evening, boring as it promised to be.
Damien
joined the guests downstairs and donned a mask of slight interest for the benefit of his family. His only relief from boredom came when thoughts of a dark-hair vixen came dancing through his wandering mind.

Chapter 6

Davina lounged on a chaise done in a floral pattern of pink and gold in the middle of her massive dressing room. Aside from her bedroom
,
it was the largest room in the house and by far her favorite. She lifted the steaming cup of chocolate from a nearby table and sipped it slowly, relishing the rich drink, a gift from Damien. The king had received a boatload of the stuff from a neighboring king as a gift, and Damien had procured a large amount of it for her. One of the many perks of her position, she thought, ringing for Anne.

She had spent the previous evening at Largess Hall, attending the queen’s musicale. The event had bored her to tears, but as part of the royal court
,
she was obligated to attend. She had been surprised to see Damien there and even more surprised by the distraction that seemed to plague him. She had not even been able to entice him to her bed. Damien had claimed fatigue and promised to come visit her soon. 

His mood was surprising, and his detachment alarming. No matter, she thought with a shrug, he was probably only as bored by the night’s entertainments as she had been. She would invite him to dinner one night this week, wear one of her most daring gowns and he would be hot to have her as he always was. Anne appeared at her side and curtsied. “Good morning my lady.”

“I believe I’ll wear my pale blue muslin dress and white hat with the blue ribbon and plumes this afternoon for luncheon at Largess Hall.
H
ave my rose silk evening gown free of wrinkles by this evening for the dinner party. And I shall need you to dress my hair, of course.”

“Yes my lady,” Anne replied with another curtsy.

Davina finished her chocolate and refilled her cup using the porcelain pot on the nearby table. She slid her feet into the pink slippers matching her pink dressing gown and moved to study her reflection in the
full-length
mirror at the corner of the dressing room. Her figure could afford a second cup of chocolate, she told herself with a smug little grin, running her hand down the side of her waist and hip.

What a compliment her peaches and cream complexion was to her luscious brown locks and velvety eyes. Beauty, grace and charm were abundant in her personality, as
members of her acquaintance had told her several times
. All of these things combined to make her the perfect candidate for a princess of Cardenas. She cared not that Damien was merely the youngest son. He was still wealthy beyond all imagining and the handsomest of the three princes. Besides, she had no desire to be wed to the first or second born princes. She would have a husband who had the time to attend to her, not set her aside when he was crowned king or made general.

Damien would ask her to marry him soon
. S
he could feel it. He was coming to an age where he needed to start thinking of settling down
a
nd she was ready to fill the position.

“My lady!” squealed Anne as she rushed back into the dressing room, Davina’s blue muslin dress draped over her arm. “The package from Madame Didier had arrived!”

Davina clapped her hands in delight and laughed. “Well hurry you silly girl and have it brought in at once!”  

Anne motioned for the tall, broad footman Davina had often admired, to enter with the large box. Davina had waited weeks for the
custom-made
ball gown she had ordered for the masquerade engagement ball to be held for Prince Lionus and Princess Isabelle. Davina ripped the ribbon and parchment away and allowed Anne to help her lift the gown, which was quite heavy, from the box. Anne gasped.

“Oh my lady, how beautiful!” 

Madame Didier had charged an exorbitant amount for the extravagant gown and Davina had known then as she knew now that it was well worth it. Navy blue satin had been sewn to mold perfectly to her form before exploding into full skirts swirling with silvery tulle. Silver beading arranged in a swirling pattern covered the bodice and trailed down the front of the skirt to the hem, making the gown extremely heavy. It would be a damned nuisance to wear, but Davina was ever fashionable and knew that such discomfort was a small thing to achieve the perfect appearance. Matching slippers, reticule, and painted mask were found in the bottom of the package, along with a receipt from Madame Didier. 

“I think maybe the sapphires with this, don’t you think Anne?” she asked absently, imagining the large sapphires hanging from her neck and ears. The sapphire set included a tiara that she’d never worn, saving it for a special occasion. Davina grinned, imagining the sapphire tiara on top of her head. No one would know but her, but for the masquerade ball she would be disguised as Damien’s princess.

****

Damien’s family had been surprised to see him at the musicale, dressed immaculately, sober and polite. They were even more surprised to find him at the table for breakfast the next morning, promptly at eight o’clock. Even the footmen could barely contain their surprise when Damien strode in, dressed in white and tan riding clothes and black riding boots, whistling cheerfully. His brothers were already present. Adare tried to join them some mornings for breakfast, but attending the musicale had sapped much of his strength and Damien assumed he was sleeping in. Their guests would all take breakfast in their rooms as well, and most would probably not be seen until the luncheon planned in the garden that afternoon. Damien wouldn’t be attending, his thoughts already moving him in the direction of a certain Gypsy girl’s cottage. 

He headed to the sideboard and filled his plate, taking his place beside Serge and across from Lionus. Lionus had stopped eating and was eyeing Damien incredulously. Damien winked at Jarvis, who appeared at his side with the coffee pot.

“Armageddon must be upon us,” Serge guffawed, his good humor a match for Damien’s, “for I have never seen you out of bed before noon.”

Damien poked Serge in the ribs and dashed his coffee cup with a liberal amount of cream. “Yes, well I have things to do today. Important things,” he said pointedly at Lionus. “So I won’t be attending the luncheon, though I’m sure I will be back in time for the dinner party.”

Lionus nodded, turning his attention back to his plate. “I had assumed that last night would be the last of your appearances until the tournament. I appreciate your efforts to attend the planned entertainments.” Damien took the compliment at face value. It was the best Lionus could do and Damien couldn’t expect more than that from his restrained personality. 

Queen Alexandra swept into the room, regal as always. Her dark hair was streaked with silver and pulled back fashionably. Her frigid, hard beauty was only slightly marred by lines and wrinkles around her mouth and cerulean eyes, and the frigidness found within their depths.

She took her seat at one end of the table, and a cup of tea appeared at her side before her bottom had settled fully in the chair. She nodded at Jarvis, who appeared magically at her elbow with her prepared breakfast plate. Very few servants in the palace were privileged to prepare Alexandra’s plate, for very few ever got it right. She preferred particular foods on particular days and insisted that none of the items on her plate touch each other. Jarvis had become the master at remembering the queen’s preferences.

“Good morning,” she said to Lionus only. Damien and Serge had long grown used to being nearly ignored by their mother. Damien seriously doubted that Alexandra even noticed his unusual presence. They ate in silence, even Serge’s sunny mood eclipsed by Alexandra’s icy manner. Damien was almost grateful when Jarvis interrupted them.

“There is a visitor,” he announced.

“No need to announce me dear Jarvis,” called a familiar voice from the hall.

“Nicolai!” Serge exclaimed rising to greet their older cousin as he stepped into the room. “We weren’t expecting you until the end of the week.”

Their cousin Nicolai, older than Lionus by one year, was the son of their father’s younger brother. He had been raised alongside the three princes as if they were brothers. Even Lionus perked up at this unexpected arrival. 

“It is good to see you,” Lionus said, standing to offer Nicolai his hand. “Jarvis, see to it that Nicolai’s usual chambers are prepared for him.”

Damien was next to greet his cousin, clapping him on the back and joining him at the sideboard for a second helping. Nicolai greatly resembled his own father, whose looks were similar to Adare’s. His light blonde hair and green eyes were so similar to Damien’s, that he looked more like him than his own brothers did. He was tall and slender, his bearing just as regal as his cousins’.

“Sorry I did not send word that I was coming but there was no time,” Nicolai said as he joined them at the table. “Father has been in his cups ever since mother’s funeral and he’s been deuced difficult to live with, so I decided to come up early.”