Gallant Waif by Anne Gracie (the alpha prince and his bride full story free .txt) 📗

his ear against her door and listened. Nothing. He could smell the beeswax she had used to polish the timber panelling. Beeswax. Another reminder of Kate. Reluctantly he brought his cheek away from her door, and headed towards his room. There were flowers on a side table in the corridor, small, insignificant blue things in a mass of green spiky stuff. He bent down to smell them, closing his eyes in anguish. They smelt of Kate’s hair. This must be rosemary, then. He pulled out a sprig, crushed it in his long, strong fingers, and inhaled the fragrance.

“Carlos.” He absent-mindedly tucked the sprig of rosemary into his shirt. “Si senor.”

“Do something about this blasted leg, will you?”

“At once, senor.”

As Carlos clattered downstairs to heat the massage oils, Jack began to shrug off his coat. He paused for a moment, then stepped back into the hallway. He gazed down at the vase of fragrant greenery. Carefully he picked it up, carried it into his room and set it down beside his bed, where the morning sun would catch it.

“No, it is very kind of Lady Cahill, but now that I am able to support myself there is no need for me to go to London.”

“But Lady Cahill was most insistent—” The elderly lawyer tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. The heiress was being extremely difficult. He had tried every persuasion, painted pictures of the marvellous things she would see and do, of the shops, theatres, concerts and balls, of the cultural wonders, the famous places and people she would see. Nothing had the slightest effect.

Mr Phillips cast a tense look at Mr Carstairs. Her ladyship’s grandson had observed the entire argument, arms folded, looking sardonic and bad-tempered. He had said not a word so far.

Mr Phillips felt very put out. Having a romantic soul underneath his dull exterior, he had envisaged himself as a kind of knight, who would escort the lost princess back to her rightful milieu. Only the princess was unaccountably resistant and unfemininely sharp of tongue and wit, and nothing he said could move her.

And, what was more, he thought, with a growing sense of injustice, when he had told her of the immense fortune which was at her sole disposal she had reacted quite as if she had other things on her mind. When he had repeated himself, thinking she was too overcome to take it in, she had replied, “Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. It is very nice, thank you.”

Nice! Mr Phillips might be a mere solicitor, but there was something downright insulting about referring to such a huge fortune as “nice’. He began yet another attempt to persuade her, but his remarks were cut across by the harsh, deep voice of his client’s grandson.

“I’ve had quite enough of all this nonsense. Kate, you are going to London and no argument. Carlos!” he called, moving to the door.

“Si, Major Jack?”

“Tell Martha to have Miss Kate’s things in that carriage within the hour. She and Mr Phillips will accompany Miss Kate to London, to my grandmother’s house.”

“She will do no such thing!” snapped Kate, meeting his eyes for the first time.

He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. “No, you are right, of course. Carlos, tell Martha to pack only what she and Miss Kate will need for the journey. They will be purchasing all new clothes and what-have-you in London.” He ignored Kate’s gasp of indignation. “Oh…Carlos, have the girls pack some food and refreshments in a basket in case Miss Kate gets hungry on the way.”

“Do no such thing, Carlos!” said Kate in a voice ringing with indignation.

Carlos met her gaze sheepishly. “I am sorry, senorita, but I must obey Major Jack.”

Jack laughed at her infuriated exclamation, a harsh, humourless laugh. “I see I am still master in my own house,” he said dryly.

“Yes, but you are not my master and I refuse to do your bidding!”

“I’m not asking you to do my bidding,” said Jack coldly.

“I…I don’t underst—”

“I’m telling you. This is my house and I choose who I have in it. You know perfectly well I was reluctant to have you here in the first place. Well, now there is no reason for you to stay on any longer. You’re going to my grandmother, all right, and will leave here today—if I have to toss you in the carriage myself.” He snapped out the orders crisply, every inch the military officer. “Do you understand me, Miss Farleigh?”

Kate flinched, then turned away, hiding her distress.

Only Jack saw the expression on her face. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Damn it, he couldn’t bear that wounded look on her face. What the devil did she think his grandmother was going to do to her? Torture her? It was the opportunity every young woman dreamed of. She didn’t know what she was turning down. Oh, he knew what was stopping her, all right. But his grandmother would soon set her straight.

A scandalous accident in the past would mean nothing in the face of her huge inheritance. She would find she had the pick of the eligible bachelors—only the stuffiest would quibble at her lost virginity. It wasn’t as if she had done anything wrong, after all. Kate Farleigh was honourable to her fingertips; any fool could see that. The biggest problem she was likely to face was fortune hunters, and he could rely on his grandmother to deal with those.

Best to have it over with quickly. He hated long goodbyes. And he did not know how much longer he could stand that look on her face without hauling her into his arms. But the last thing Kate needed was to be tied to an embittered cripple. With this fortune she had a glittering future ahead of her, a future he would have no part in.

“Then shall we all agree to meet in the front hall in, say, half an hour to make our farewells? Good.” He nodded