Seducing the Princess by Mary Hart Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

the rest of the guests moved toward their chairs. Beatrice looked around for the woman she’d seen earlier. She’d seemed exotic, interesting. Beatrice was dying to talk with her and find out where she’d come from. She’d have to do it soon if her mother was intent on making her leave.
    But the grand duke was standing alone behind the chair at the head of the table, and the lady in red was nowhere in sight. Apparently, the queen’s message already had been delivered. Beatrice felt sorry for the man. Was it fair that her mother’s whims should deny him a companion on his daughter’s wedding day?
    Beatrice excused herself and stood up from the table. Any other day, Victoria certainly would have noticed and stopped her. But the queen was busy talking with Sandro, and the second of the Battenberg sons had her so enthralled that Beatrice was able to slip away.
    She approached her brother-in-law and rested a hand tentatively on his arm. The duke turned with a subdued smile. “Ah, Your Royal Highness,” he murmured, “you are looking well. Thank you for doing so much for Vicky. She values your love and advice even more in the years since she’s lost her mother.”
    “It’s my pleasure. She’s a charming girl. I adore her.”
    He nodded. “Thank you.”
    Beatrice bent down closer to him. “The dark-haired lady in church, I understand she was your guest. She could not join us for the banquet?”
    His face reddened. “The queen suggested it was inappropriate for her to be here.”
    “Why shouldn’t she be?” If Beatrice had inherited anything from her mother it was her preference for speaking plainly and openly, to get to the root of the matter.
    “She is a dear friend. Her name is Alexandrine von Kolemine. She is from Poland originally, the daughter of the count of Hutten-Czapsy. A widow, as I am a widower, and we are close friends.” He sighed. “I believe it offends your mother that I keep company with her.”
    Beatrice considered his choice of words. The queen never allowed her brothers to speak in front of their sisters about their private social lives. But over the years she’d overheard snatches of conversation. “Keeping company” seemed, to her, code words for something more intimate than tea shared before the fire.
    If Alice had been alive, Beatrice would most definitely have been offended on her behalf. But her sister had been gone six years, and the duke had seemed so very sad and inconsolable that Beatrice was happy he’d found someone to comfort him and share his days. And perhaps his nights?
    “She is your mistress?”
    The duke tensed and avoided her eyes. “Princess, I shouldn’t be discussing such things with you.”
    “Because my mother would be furious.”
    “She would likely banish me from ever again setting foot in London.” His eyes flashed, but his dry laugh held no humor.
    Beatrice shook her head. “Alice wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone forever.”
    Her own words struck home. Wasn’t she alone too? And likely to remain so for the rest of her life. A mother, siblings, nephews and nieces were no substitute for a beloved spouse. The only difference between her situation and the duke’s was—she’d never been married and likely never would be.
    She couldn’t recall much about her parents’ marital relations. She’d been so very young when Albert died—just four years old. But she had a hazy memory of warm exchanges between her parents, of standing between them as a toddler—the sandwich filling to their sturdy, loving bread slices—feeling the vibrancy of their affection pass through her. And she’d heard courtiers say that the queen and her prince consort had been totally devoted to each other.
    “I’m sorry if my mother has spoiled the day for you,” Beatrice murmured.
    The duke took her hands between his and patted them. “She hasn’t, Princess. I have seen my daughter married to a good man. And my mistress, she will forgive me when I make everything right