The Wronged Princess - Book I (43 page)

Exasperation poured from Essie though not so much as a peep escaped.

“What has you so excited about supper with the Italian Ambassador, pray tell?” Pricilla asked, irritated, focused on the papers before her
. 
A light dawned and she glanced up at Essie, whose eyes fluttered in a nervous twitter
. 
It created a slight current through the air
. 
“Ah
. 
Mayhap Alessandro de Lecce is in attendance, as well?
”

Essie had an unfortunate affliction, poor thing
. 
At the slightest provocation, albeit anxiety or excitement, her eyes battered uncontrollably
. 
A definite downfall
. 
For both, Essie and
Mamá.
’Twas always a strong indication of her discomfort—signaling her distress in droves.

“I have no idea,” Essie said quickly
. 

Hah
.
The flux of air rose in its intensity
. 
Pricilla gifted her with a knowing smile but held her tongue.

Essie shuffled her feet
. 
“You need to make haste—that’s all.
”

Her fluttery-eyed sister definitely had a crush on the beguiling Alessandro, elder son of the Conte de Lecce
. 
The queen had invited the family last year upon Essie and Prince Charming’s—
faux
—betrothal
. 
Of course, it wasn’t fictitious at the time
. 
But Pricilla was not so sure Alessandro de Lecce had not been the queen’s plan for Essie all along.

“Hmm.
”
Pricilla studied her sister minutely before resuming her perusal of the documents. “Quit. Pacing,” she ground out, piercing Essie with her aggravation
. 

Essie stopped in her tracks, clasped her hands genteelly before her, presenting the picture of patience
. 

Pricilla lowered her eyes back to the reports
. 
“And quit staring at me.”

Keep reading for an excerpt to Book III

“The Surprising Enchantress”

The Surprising Enchantress

Chapter 1

“You know not of what you speak
. 
You are an insolent son,” Conte Pasquale de Lecce bit out.

“Perhaps you will enlighten me, sir?
”
Alessandro de Lecce,
Nobile dei Conti
, watched his father pace the near bare chamber like a caged lion
. 
Aless knew he and the Conte resembled one another greatly in the set of their eyes and the harsh angle of cheekbones
. 
But the past few years had aged his father at an alarming rate, shown by his thinning hair and the deeply creased lines etched in his forehead
. 
A constant worry seemed to settle over him of late
. 

Aless snuck a glance at his timepiece for the third time
. 
The past three quarters of an hour he’d been at odds with his father in a deserted wing of Chalmers castle
. 
A strange location his father had requested for an interview
. 
Aless was starting to fret for his father’s mental faculties
. 

The Conte stopped, contemplating
Aless
for a long moment, mouth agape as though he might speak
. 
But no, he clamped it shut and resumed his pace
. 
Aless rubbed his temples to stave off an aching head
. 
Dio
!
The man treated him as though he were the same age as Prince Charming’s young heir.

Without warning, the Conte stopped before him
. 
The abrupt stance raised the hair on Aless’s nape
. 
Wary, he watched, knowing things with his father rarely dispelled so easily. “Sit,” his father commanded.

Foreboding trickled through him
. 
Alessandro obliged, moving to an opulent, though faded, wing-backed chair, and slowly lowered his large frame
. 
He stifled a sneeze for all the dust he’d disturbed.

The Conte
twist
ed
his
hands
as though he were fraught with nerves
. 
“I am not
certain
how to tell you this.”

“Mayhap you should just say, save all the dramatics.
”
Aless drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair impatient for the interview’s conclusion.

“We are
españa
.”

“
Si
, on
M
adre’s
side
. 
’Tis no secret we are of Spanish descent.
”
A sense of relief assailed him, and he shot his father an amused glance
. 
But the Conte did not respond in return, instead compressing his lips firmly together,
he resumed
his pace the length of the room
. 
Alessandro let out a sigh
. 
“What is it,
P
adre
?

“’Tis long past time you did your duty and married. Nobility,
Royalty.
” He flung out a broad hand
. 
“It matters naught
. 
We must begin building our legacy
. 
The plans are almost in place.”

Alessandro narrowed his eyes on the Conte
. 
“Plans
?
Nobility
?
We are here for Prince Charmin’s inauguration as king
. 
What are you up to?”

*****

“Edric, my little prince, we are missing out on family time
. 
You know your
mamán
will be wondering where we have disappeared,” Esmeralda chided her little charge. Edric was a gale of energy
. 
A mass of dark curls and eyes were a perfect match of Cinde’s rich browns and his
papá’s
outrageous charm
. 

The little progeny already had the aptitude for turning the saddest eyes on even the least gullible victim, charming them silly
. 
His Auntie Cill came to mind as his toughest critic
. 
Essie had seen the little thespian in action. Quite impressive he was, not to mention entertaining to observe, winding Pricilla round his chubby pinky finger
.
Of Esmeralda’s two sisters, Cinderella and Pricilla, Pricilla was, by far, the more difficult to succumb.

“Aunt Sessie, I would pray hide an’ seek,
s’il vous plait
,” Edric begged.

“The word is ‘play,’ Edric, and we are late
. 
We must hurry if we are to visit with the family before you and Bella are banished to the nursery for the evening.
”
Essie kept her voice firm
. 
One must maintain an image of control, regardless of the reality.

However, Edric was a master, evidenced when his fuller bottom lip poked out in petulance
.
He gulped to scream certain displeasure with his Aunt
Sessie’s
unyielding words
. 

But Essie was not one of Edric’s victims like his Aunt Cill, and verified her deftness
. 
“Edric, I suggest you quell the impulse
. 
Young princes do not bellow their tendencies to
ward
screaming,” she informed him blandly, hands clasped before her
.
Presenting a model of patience was imperative.

Edric stopped, seeming to consider her words
.
But when he handed her a brilliant smile, she realized it was too late to rethink her stratagem
.
“I hide, Aunt
Sessie,
you seek.
”

The cheeky urchin whipped round, darting down a dimly lit corridor before she could blink.

“Edric,” Essie called after him, stomping her foot
.
“Don’t you dare!
”
But the ball of force had already disappeared
.
Essie lifted her skirts and bolted after him
. S
oftly lit sconces intensified the depth of shadows as most of the chambers down this wing were dark and deserted
.
She poked her head through the first open door
.
“Edric, come out,
s’il vous plait
,” she called softly
. 
How did one handle a misbehaving heir
?
Oh, she would blast the little scamp.

Silence
.

Essie continued down the hallway
.
“Edric?
”
She angled her head, listening for the slightest sound
.
No Edric, only the tale-tell murmurings of Italian
.
It sounded
as if
the Conte
de Lecce and his
son
were in a heated row
.
She had an embarrassing ardor for the Conte de Lecce’s eldest
off-spring
, Alessandro.

They first made their appearance several years prior when Prince Charming was looking for his mysterious princess
,
Cinderella
. 
With Alessandro dark hair and eyes, strong jaw and immaculate manners, Essie found him irresistible, though she’d noticed a certain broodiness about him that hadn’t been apparent before
. 
He certainly couldn’t have been involved with the Prussian – Austrian Wars
. 
They’d ended years ago
. 
Of course, she
’d
never understood matters of war.
Women would demand communication in their dealings rather than resorting to blood and gore.

Unfortunately, her little blinking problem hadn’t abated in the least
since they’d last met
. 
Like the time Prince Charming’s shoe slipped onto her own dainty foot, quite unexpectedly
. 
Why, she’d created a dust storm to rival that of the Far Eastern desserts.

Curiosity had her inching forward
.
Why they would
meet
in such a deserted portion of the castle was beyond her
. 
She shook her head and quickened her step
.
’Twould not do to be discovered eavesdropping
.
Still, if the
princely
monster did not show himself soon she
might
be forced to seek their assistance
.
She grimaced.

’Twould be her luck for the
N
obile dei Conti
Alessandro de Lecce to witness such incompetence in handling a rambunctious four year old
.
Her nerves simply could not take it
.
She was wont to send the Conte’s elder son sprawling
to land on his nicely shaped arse when her uncontrollable eye-batting windstorm kicked up
.

She blinked back
a
sting of sudden tears
.
Mamá
was right
.
She was completely unmarriageable with this idiotic affliction
.
And to someone of Alessandro de Lecce’s pedigree, she was all but doomed to a court-appointed husband
.
Irritated at the turn of her already obsessive insecurities, she pushed them away, knowing such introspections only festered. She had a bigger problem at the moment.