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  She strode ahead, kicking the ruffles and hooped underskirts out of her way each time they slammed into her ankles. Had she known she was actually going to have to walk in the silly dress, she would have argued more forcefully against wearing it. As it was, she had given in only because she would need to battle this evening to be excused from a soirée hosted by the Queen.

  “Oh, how lovely!” she cried as she caught sight of the clear, green water. She looked over her shoulder at Roman who was staring impassively across the lake. “When I was a child, I desperately wanted to swim in that lake,” she told him.

  “I find that hard to believe. You were always a very proper young Lady.” Astrid doubted he thought any differently now.

  “Oh no, I just seemed that way because my Mother used to instruct my governess to put me in stays whenever we visited.” She had dreaded every visit for that very reason; well, that and they bored her half to death.

  Roman frowned. “I don’t wish to criticise your Mother but that sounds like a rather harsh thing to do. I am of the opinion that stays should be kept as a form of torture, not used as ladies’ undergarments. And they certainly shouldn’t be worn by children.” He gave her a long look. “I hope you wouldn’t put our daughters in stays.”

  Astrid caught her breath at the casual mention of their future children. How strange it felt to hear him speak of them. “Never!” she said with an emphatic shake of her head. “On that matter I agree with you whole-heartedly.”

  Seemingly satisfied, Roman nodded and they continued their walk, heading away from the lake. Now that she had him talking, Astrid was determined they should not slip back into an awkward silence.

  “In my mother’s defence, I will say I could be a bit of a tearaway.” She laughed at his incredulous expression. “It’s true! I was!”

  “Now I know you are exaggerating!”

  “Not at all!” She turned, walking backwards so she could look at him as she spoke. She felt oddly duty-bound to make him understand her mother’s reasons for restraining her. “Do you remember when we visited for the betrothal?” she asked, “I was nine and you were … what? Fifteen?”

  “Sixteen, actually.” He pointed behind her. “Careful or you’ll walk into that tree.”

  “That’s right.” Astrid turned to watch where she was going. She remembered how angry he had looked the day he had seen his nine year old betrothed for the first time. Could she blame him? He was a strapping young man even then so what must he have thought when he saw the little girl he was supposed to marry? She well remembered her thoughts on first seeing him. “I thought you were ancient,” she teased.

  Prince Roman bowed. “Thank you for that,” he drawled.

  Astrid hid her smile. “Anyway, that was the visit I decided I would swim in this lake. This, of course, was before I was confined to the stays. I sneaked out of the Palace while all the dreadfully dull grown-up talk of marriages was going on and came down here - which was when I discovered, to my irritation, that I could not get out of my dress without assistance.

  “So what did you do?” Roman sounded genuinely interested. Astrid looked sheepish.

  “I jumped in fully clothed.”

  He laughed and the sound was so unexpected that Astrid stopped and stared at him. Looking suddenly self-conscious, the Prince clasped his hands behind his back and continued to walk.

  “Did you get into trouble?” he asked seriously.

  Astrid grimaced. “Sort of. The skirts of my dress grew heavy with the water and pulled me under. I just about managed to swim to the bank but I couldn’t pull myself out. In the end, one of the gardeners heard me bellowing and jumped in and rescued me.”

  The Prince snapped his fingers. “You were the child who supposedly fell into the lake and nearly drowned!”

  Astrid wrinkled her nose. “Well I couldn’t tell everyone the truth and say I jumped in so I told a bit of a fib instead. Not that it mattered. Mother knew me better and, from that visit on, I was confined to the stays!”

  Roman smiled. “And to think I thought you were such a well brought up young lady.”

  “Well, obviously, I grew up to be one,” Astrid replied primly - and then ruined it by adding, “Do you know something else I always wanted to do?”

  “I’m afraid to ask!”

  “Climb one of these wonderful old trees! Don’t they look like they grew here for that exact purpose?”

  “I used to climb them all the time as a youth.” A smile tugged at Roman’s lips. “Many, many years ago obviously.”

  Astrid nodded her agreement. “Obviously!” She leaned against one of the sturdy old oaks. “You are far too ancient to try such a feat now.”

  “Something tells me you are trying to goad me into climbing that tree, Lady Astrid!”

  “Good Lord, no, Prince Roman! Not at your advanced age!”

  “Fine, I’ll bite.”

  Astrid watched, her eyes widening, as the Prince stripped off his morning coat and dropped it on the ground. It was swiftly followed by his waistcoat. At the sight of him so casually attired in his breeches and shirt, her breath caught in her throat. His white cravat, hanging haphazardly around his neck, only added to his rakish image. Roman caught her staring and Astrid blushed and looked away. She busied herself looking up at the tree, judging the height between the branches.

  “I shall climb too,” she announced suddenly.

  Roman looked alarmed. “How do you propose doing so while wearing that dress?”

  Astrid lifted her dress, grabbed the top of the hooped underskirt, pulled it down and stepped out of it in one swift movement. Then she untied the padded underskirt and dropped that to the ground too.

  “Ta da!” She made a little bow. Her underskirts now lay in a huge puddle at her feet while her dress skimmed her slender frame.

  Roman blinked in surprise. “I admit it: I was not expecting that!”

  “One should never underestimate the resourcefulness of a lady,” Astrid told him haughtily.

  “I shall remember that in future,” Roman replied with a respectful nod. ”You may lead the way.” He gestured to the tree.

  “No!” Astrid hands went instinctively to her skirt. ”You have to go first or you’ll see up my dress!”

  With a bark of laughter, the Prince reached for the first branch. “Very well - but you do understand that, in just a few days, we’ll be married?” he said as he started up the tree.

  Astrid’s heart swelled with joy. He had spoken the words with such levity. Could it be that he was coming to terms with their marriage after all?

  Already half way up the tree. Roman called down to her. “Having second thoughts?”

  Astrid tipped her head back. “Absolutely not!”

  She had to take a running jump to reach the first branch and then pull herself up. There was a bit of undignified scrabbling up the tree trunk and then she was able to swing her legs up and over the first branch. Astrid clung to the tree, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around it as she evaluated her next move.

  “Are you stuck?”

  Astrid could have sworn she heard him chuckle, which made her all the bolder. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you!” She pushed herself up into a sitting position and then shuffled along the branch towards the tree trunk. Tentatively, she climbed to her feet and grabbed the branch above her head. Feeling somewhat safer now, she was finally able to look around her and enjoy the view.

  “I can see forever from up here!”

  Roman snorted with ungentlemanly laughter. “You’re only about six feet up! You would probably have a better view from the back of a horse.”

  “Well, it’s all right for you. You’re not hindered by long skirts!”

  “Then maybe you should have worn something a little less decorative!”

  Astrid wrinkled her nose. As though she had had a choice! She could explain but men never really understood the constraints put upon women.

  “Nev
er mind. I can climb further still,” she called and started up, fighting against her dress as it wrapped snugly around her legs.

  “Take care now, Astrid, or you’ll fall,” Roman cautioned sternly. Had he known her better, he would have understood his warning was just the spur she needed to keep going - regardless of any danger. As she grasped the branch above her head, Astrid’s foot slipped and she became caught in the heavy fabric of her skirt. She dangled precariously, unable to go either up or down.

  “Um … Roman …” she called, truly embarrassed to be in such a nitwit situation, “I think I might be in need of assistance!”

  “Hold on. I’m coming down!” He manoeuvred carefully past her and jumped to the ground.

  “Let go now, Astrid, and I’ll catch you!”

  She took a deep breath and dropped, landing in Roman’s arms with an “oomph!”

  “Thank you!” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Unexpectedly, he smiled back - and the world stopped. She tightened her hold and, closing her eyes, pulled his head to hers and he breathed in her delicate scent as she touched her soft lips to his.

  “Astrid?”

  She opened her eyes. “Kiss me, Roman!” she said, afraid he would stop before she had a chance to know how a proper kiss felt.

  He hesitated … then gently claimed her mouth with his own. His lips were firm as they moved across hers, coaxing them open. Astrid sighed and Roman’s tongue met hers, deepening the kiss. She whimpered and wriggled in his arms, trying to burrow closer. Roman pulled away, his breathing heavy as though stopping had been an effort. Astrid smiled up at him.

  “You’re an excellent kisser, Roman. Have you had a good deal of practice?”

  “Hardly any at all,” he said, putting her down.

  Astrid raised her eyebrows sceptically. “Of course not.” She looked around for her slipper which had flown off when she had dropped into Roman’s arms. Spotting it, she sat down on the grass to put it on.

  “Here, let me.”

  Roman knelt down in front of her and Astrid bit her lip as he held her foot in his hand a moment longer than necessary. She wondered if he was remembering the night of the Ball when he had held the Contessa’s foot just like this. She sighed at the thought and pulled away then collected her underskirts and dressed as best she could behind the tree.

  “I should probably go back now,” she told him and marched off in the direction of the house. Roman did not follow her. If he had, she would have been compelled to explain the tears tracking down her cheeks.

  And, really, how does one explain to one’s betrothed that, despite the best of intentions, one has fallen in love with him?

  Chapter Four

  “Not long now, dear, and I shall be able to call you daughter.”

  Queen Isadora leaned in conspiratorially. “I am looking forward to you challenging that son of mine. It will do him good to have some of that regal bearing knocked out of him.”

  Astrid looked wide-eyed. “I am surprised to hear you say that, your Highness - both as the Queen and as his mother.”

  “Just because I’m his mother doesn’t mean I don’t see his faults - which tend towards the proud and the self-contained. But don’t let him fool you. He’s a man who needs a woman to shake him up a little.”

  “What makes you think I will be able to do that?” Astrid had been schooled carefully by her mother in the correct way to behave in front of the King and Queen and, as far as she was aware, she had performed to perfection. She would certainly have heard about it from her mother had she not!

  “Call it a mother’s intuition but I have a feeling that you are perfect for my son,” the Queen said with an affectionate pat of Astrid’s arm. “I am sure you will prove just the challenge he needs. Just remember, though. that he is a proud man and. like any man, doesn’t like to think he has been made a fool.”

  “Ah, there you both are!” the Duchess trilled, as though she hand’t been hovering nearby the whole time. “I hope you don’t mind my interrupting your little tête-à-tête?”

  “Not at all!” said Queen Isadora. “I was about to order a carriage be brought round for Astrid.” At Astrid’s look of surprise, she added, “My son informs me he is to take you riding tomorrow so I’m sure you won’t want to stay around here until the early hours.”

  “My daughter is sturdier than she looks, your Highness. She will withstand a late night and still be fit for riding in the morning, I can assure you.”

  “I am feeling quite tired, Mother.”

  Sensing that the Duchess was about to refute Astrid’s claim. Queen Isadora called over the footman and ordered a carriage to be brought round immediately. “There! Now it is settled. We don’t want Astrid feeling unwell for her wedding day, do we?”

  Silently blessing the Queen for resolving the issue so decisively, Astrid cut across the formal dining room to where her sister stood talking with Lady Hildred. “Delphi,” Astrid whispered, leaning close, “keep Mother here as late as you can.” And then, before Delphi could ask what she was up to, Astrid hurried away.

  Dressed in her boy’s garb, Astrid hurried through the gardens to the Royal Pavilion. Aware of the dangers of being spotted, she wore a cap pulled down over half her face and kept to the shadows.

  Meeting Roman this way was foolhardy in too many ways to count. She had thought to come here tonight and confess all but the Queen’s words had given her pause. Roman had seemed so different on their walk; so at ease in her company that Astrid did not want to risk a return to the disdain he had shown before. It was a bitter irony that Astrid had played the Contessa so Roman would see she wasn’t the placid, dull little creature he thought her - and now the Contessa herself stood between them and any chance of happiness they might have.

  Oh what a web of deceit she had woven!

  A shadow appeared in the doorway of the pavilion. “Contessa?”

  “Yes, your Highness.” Astrid stayed back, keeping a distance between them so he would not be able to make out her features.

  “Good Lord! Are you dressed as a boy?”

  “Yes. I was worried I would be seen.”

  “You do surprise me, Contessa.” He lounged against the wall, seemingly at ease with the situation. “I thought you would be above worrying about tittle tattle.”

  “Well, I have come to realise there is more than my honour at stake.”

  Roman chuckled. “Are you concerned you will tarnish my saintly reputation, Contessa?”

  “No, your Highness.” Good Lord, was he being deliberately obtuse? “My concern was for your fiancée.”

  “Ah, I see! You’re worried our assignations might reflect poorly on my betrothed?”

  “Exactly!” Astrid sighed, glad that he finally understood.

  “Hmm. Forgive my being a bit slow on the uptake, Contessa, yet I cannot but wonder at this sudden change of heart.”

  “Your Highness?”

  “It’s just that, as if you need me to remind you, it was you, Contessa, who sought out me, both at the Ball and at the Hunt.”

  Astrid gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached. “Yes - well: I have come to realise my actions were wrong - very wrong! I can see you no longer!”

  “I confess that to hear you say so pains me greatly.”

  “It does?”

  “Of course!” Prince Roman stepped towards her then frowned when she stepped back. “Contessa, don’t you see that, since you sauntered into my Bachelor Ball, all pert-bottomed and ruby-clad feet, my mind has been filled with images of you? Your wild passionate nature: your soft lips; those dainty feet.”

  “Roman, no!” Astrid took another step away. “You must forget all about me!” she cried woefully. “Pretend I never existed!”

  “How can I do that?” He shook his head. “In comparison with you, my betrothed is but a pale shadow. I must have you, Contessa!”

  “Your Highness! Think about what you are saying!”

 
“I know exactly what I am saying: that you have shown me what I want - need!” He stretched out to take her hand but she snatched it out of reach.

  “No! That isn’t what I meant!” Astrid backed away. “You are mad to think there can be anything between us! I never want to see you again! Never!”

  Her head filled with the sounds of his longing, she ran from him. What had she done?

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t go, Delphi!” Astrid cried. She buried her head back into her pillow.

  “Why ever not?” Delphi sat on the edge of the bed on which her sister was sprawled face down. “Astrid, do stop muttering into your pillow, I cannot understand a word you are saying.”

  Astrid sat up, her face red and puffy from crying. “I said I can’t go because I love him!”

  “Am I missing something? Surely loving the man you are to marry is a good thing?

  Astrid threw her hands up in the air. “Not if he’s fallen for someone else it isn’t!”

  Delphi frowned. “But, just yesterday, you said you had enjoyed each other’s company and that you had had fun on your walk.” Delphi had wondered at the time why Astrid, usually so keen to elaborate and embroider her tales, had sounded so forlorn and been reticent about sharing the details of this particular adventure.

  “Yes but that was before .…” Astrid looked away, unable to meet her sister’s eye.

  “Uh-oh! What did you do?”

  “Don’t sigh, Delphi. I had no choice! Roman held onto me at the Hunt in front of Mother. To have denied him would have caused a scene. Of course I had to meet him last night. It was Roman’s fault - all of it - not mine.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Very well - but don’t grrr or condemn me before you have heard what I have to say.”

  “I’ll try. Don’t look at me like that, Astrid! It can be very difficult just to listen to you sometimes!”

  “Then at least try!”

  Astrid accepted the handkerchief her sister held out as a peace offering and and dried her eyes. “Last night, after I left the Palace, I came back here and changed into a disguise.” Delphi drew a sharp breath. Astrid stopped and gave her a stern look. “I already told you I had no choice. I had to meet Roman at the Royal Pavilion, pretending to be the Contessa, and - and I told him that I could not see him again.”