Page 45 of To Dare a Duke

“Yes, it was. The princess replied, ‘Oh, no one. There’s no one here but me,’ and hid herself behind the door. Well, the guard was suspicious and burst into the room. Quick as a flash, the princess ran through the open door and slammed it shut, locking the guard inside.”

The little girl squealed and clapped. “And did she marry the handsome prince?”

There was a long pause and, for no explicable reason, Robert held his breath.

“No,” Prue replied, her voice decisive. “The princess decided she thought the hero was boring because he wanted her to stay at home and look after him. She married the villain instead, and they travelled the world together, getting into mischief wherever they went.”

Robert smiled, and all the ill humour, doubts, and annoyances of the past days vanished as his heart gave an unsteady thump in his chest. It was ridiculous, he knew that, but those words had given him hope, foolish as it may be.

“Prue, Prue! William’s kite has got stuck in a tree.”

There was the sound of scuffling and movement beyond the hedge and Robert moved forward, looking around an opening in the yew hedge that led into an orchard and then to meadowland beyond.

Prue and her entourage were hurrying to the edge of the orchard, where a bright blue-and-red kite had caught in the upper branches of an apple tree. The tail of the kite trailed down, disconsolate in its branch-bound prison.

With amusement, Robert stood and watched as a group of five children—one girl and four boys—stood around, considering the kite. He was a little alarmed but, after hearing her version of a fairy story, not the least bit surprised when Prue hitched her skirts and climbed the tree. A moment later and the kite plummeted to the ground to cheers and cries of thanks. The children ran off to play with their prize, leaving Prue still clinging to the upper branches of the gnarled old tree.

It was too good an opportunity to miss.

He reached her in time to hear a surprisingly impressive string of curse words and get a lovely view of a well-turned ankle.

“May I be of any assistance?” he enquired, his voice grave.

“Oh, no!” she wailed, looking down at him with obvious horror. “Oh, it had to be you, didn’t it?”

Robert returned a wounded expression. “But Prue, darling, I have only come to give you my support, in any way you may require it.”

“I am not your darling,” returned a tart voice from above him. “And you can give me your support by going away, please.”

“But, as a gentleman, I could not leave a young lady alone and in danger.”

“I’m in no danger, I assure you,” she replied, sounding a little exasperated. There was a breathless quality to her voice and he squinted up, having difficulty in seeing her as the sun was at her back. She appeared to be twisted around, tugging at the back of her dress, the delicate muslin quite unsuitable for the endeavour she had been attempting. Somewhere along the bodice and in several places among the skirts it was hopelessly caught in the branches. “Just go away,” she muttered, “and I shall get down by myself.”

Robert frowned, a little concerned now. “Prue, you’ve gotten yourself into a tangle. Let me come up and help you, you goose.”

“No!” she exclaimed crossly. “I don’t need your help, I can do it myself.”

He gave a frustrated sigh. “Oh, come along, even your quick-thinking princess married the villain, you can at least allow your villain to untangle you from a tree, can’t you?”

A rush of peculiar warmth assailed him at the thought of being her villain. Good lord, he was losing his mind.

There was a mortified groan from above as she realised he’d been listening and he smiled, his heart giving a hopeless little jolt in his chest at the sound. Dear god, she was adorable.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the story was so riveting I couldn’t leave,” he said, by way of apology.

“Well, the princess rescued herself, and so shall I,” she retorted. “And I’m not marrying anyone, so you can just take yourself off and find another lady to play the hero for… or the villain… or whatever you are,” she said, sounding increasingly vexed.

“But I want to play with you,” he said, his voice soft.

There was a rustle from above and he saw her cat-like eyes staring down at him, wide and startled.

“You… you shouldn’t say such things,” she said, returning her attention back to the branches and almost twisting double in the attempt to unhook herself.

“Why not? It’s true,” he said, unable to keep the smile from his face or his voice. “I want to kiss you again, too.” He didn’t know why he’d said it, other than it was true. That kiss had haunted him, kept him from sleep, and flavoured his lips in such a way he couldn’t help but lick them whenever he thought of her, trying to chase every lingering taste of her so he would never forget it.

She stilled, and then the tugging and cursing began again, more frantic than before.

“Let me come up and help,” he said, shaking his head at her stubbornness. “I can untangle you. If you keep doing that, you will tear—”