To Protect a Princess by Jess Michaels
Chapter 2
Captain Jonah Crawford clutched the drink in his hand with white-knuckled fingers as he looked out over the ballroom. God, how he hated these pointless exhibitions. Ballrooms filled with rich, stupid knobs hell-bent on getting drunk and making each other feel more important. All the while ignoring anything real or of value in the world.
He’d always felt an outsider in this sphere. A proud outsider. Except in the last few years his actions in the Royal Navy had allowed him invitation here more often. He’d been recognized as valuable, somehow, by the powers that be. And so he came and he stood and he watched this world spin by.
“Captain Crawford!”
He jerked from his wandering thoughts and forced a smile for the man coming across the ballroom toward him. The Earl of Bramwell was one of the men of this world he could actually stand. They had met through his brother-in-law, Nicholas Gillingham, a fellow serviceman he’d come to know after the man had suffered grievous injury in the line of duty.
“My lord,” he said with a slight incline of his head. “I didn’t realize you were here tonight.”
“It’s a crush,” Bramwell said with a sigh. “Lady Gregson always invites too many people. Have you seen Nicholas and Aurora?”
Jonah shook his head. “No, are they here as well?”
Bramwell nodded. “Yes. Somewhat against his will, I think. But he will do anything to make my sister happy, as he always has.”
“They are an excellent match,” Jonah agreed, though he couldn’t imagine finding a woman he would be so attached to. Such an odd thought.
“They are, indeed,” Bramwell said, and he sounded happy, though there was something to the look on his face that made Jonah look a little closer.
“Troubled?”
Bramwell ducked his head. “Oh no, not really. I was just thinking about the upcoming Season. It will be full of crushes even worse than this one what with the royal family of Athawick joining the fray. It is all anyone has talking about for the last month.”
Jonah set his jaw at the mention of Athawick and the impending royal visit. He would not react. He could not react.
“Ah yes,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
“You are acquainted with the family, aren’t you?” Bramwell asked.
Jonah’s mind flashed to two years before, to warm brown eyes that seemed to draw a man all the way in. That seemed to see too much.
He cleared his throat. “I was part of a group who went with the Regent to Athawick on an official visit two years ago. It was before the last king’s death and yes, I got to know the family a little during that stay. Their new king, Grantham, is a decent fellow.”
“I look forward to meeting him and his family,” Bramwell said. “There is some rumor that they may be seeking a match for the daughter, Princess Ilaria, during their stay here.”
Jonah’s eyes narrowed. “Who said that?”
“My mother,” Bramwell said. “And she is never wrong, at least when it comes to potential brides for men of a certain rank…for me, if we’re being honest. Do you not think she is correct?”
Jonah gripped his hands in fists at his sides and then released them. God’s teeth, he had no right to feel such a flood of emotion at this revelation about the princess’s future. It had nothing to do with him, after all.
“I suppose it makes sense,” he said. “Athawick has such a close relationship to Britain.”
Bramwell nodded. “That was my mother’s opinion on the matter. To bind their family to a titled family here would solidify all sorts of political relationships.”
“Of course,” Jonah said. “A title.”
Bramwell’s brow wrinkled, and for a moment Jonah had the horrifying realization he was going to be questioned further about his reaction. But before that nightmare could begin, a man stepped from the crowd.
“Gillingham!” Jonah said, happy for the interruption. “The earl said you were here.”
Nicholas Gillingham leaned on a cane as he made his way to the two men. He extended his unoccupied hand and shook first with his brother-in-law and then with Jonah. He smiled at them both. “Excellent to see you.”
“And you,” Jonah said, and meant it. Though he might not have much patience with many of those in attendance tonight, he truly liked and respected Gillingham. They had bonded over military service, as well as being forced to leave the profession they’d each intended to take part in for life. For very different reasons, of course.
“Captain Crawford and I were just discussing the impending arrival of the Athawick Royal Family,” the earl said.
“Ah, yes. Just before we departed for this evening’s events, Aurora mentioned we had an invitation to Bleaking House tomorrow night for a welcome soiree.”
“Staying at Bleaking House, are they?” Bramwell asked. “One of the lesser royal residences, but still, an official one. I suppose I will find the same waiting for me when I return home tonight. And I assume we’ll see you there, as well, Captain? Because of that prior relationship we discussed.”
Jonah shifted. He had no idea if he would be included on the welcoming guest list. It had been two years since he last saw any of the Athawick Royal Family. Perhaps the bonds of friendship he had formed with the now-king were long forgotten.
Or perhaps he would be dragged into their sphere, after all.
“If I am invited, I do not see a way I could refuse such an honor,” he said.
The other two men began talking about some other subject then, but Jonah felt no relief about it. Now his mind was spinning, turning, recalling things he had used a great deal of discipline to forget.
Like the scent of Princess Ilaria’s hair or the way she looked when she laughed. He would need to master some of that control again if he were to become a part of the family’s time in London. Because he had no place in the life of the princess. He’d realized that once before and he could not forget it now.
* * *
Two Years Before
The Island of Athawick
Jonah was not accustomed to being a passenger on a ship so he was restless as the pleasure boat was piloted into the dock at Athawick. He stood away from the rest of the party, away from the Prince Regent and his lackeys, and stared out at the island that was their destination. He’d heard of the place, of course. Athawick was described in floral, fascinated terms any time someone spoke about it. It was a fairytale land to hear people tell it, but he had never believed it.
Until now. His breath caught at the sights before him. A clean, well-tended dock stretched out with men racing around to help pilot the ship to safety as the crowds of Athawickians waved from the shore and open windows and from behind barricades that kept them from the welcoming party.
The village beyond the dock was lined with colorful shops and homes, painted reds and blues and pinks and yellows, much like he’d seen many a time in Scotland over the years. A winding main road led up and up the rolling green hills toward a massive palace with towers and spires and a walled-in segment of the town at its feet, for protection from invaders in centuries past.
It was, unquestionably, the most beautiful castle he had ever seen, though he would certainly not say that in his current company. He could already see that the Prince Regent was staring up at the palace with pursed lips and unmasked annoyance. He wanted to have the finest toys and Athawick was showing him up with this display.
The docking was finished and the party began to exit the boat. The Regent went first, of course, waving to the cheering crowd as he approached the Athawick royal party. Jonah stood with the rest of the honor guard, chosen from each branch of the king’s military for their acts of bravery. The Regent met the King of Athawick first, a tall and handsome older man who appeared a bit pale in the bright sunshine, and his queen, who was as stunning a woman as Jonah had ever seen.
Until she stepped to the side and her grown children moved forward to make their greetings. Two men, Jonah assumed the Princes Grantham and Remington, but behind them was a woman who could only be Princess Ilaria. His heat thudded almost painfully in his chest and he could not stop staring.
She was stunning, and he was well and truly stunned. With dark hair that was spun up in a complicated fashion, emphasizing her high cheekbones, brown eyes and full lips, she was uncommonly beautiful. A fact he could see was not missed by some of the other men in their party as all attention shifted to the princess.
She shifted her gaze toward the honor guard, flitting it around the various men without pausing until she reached…him.
Their eyes met, and for a moment she held there, without hesitation or blushing or simpering. She just looked at him, and in that moment he forgot to breathe.
Then she glanced away and it was like he had been released from a hold. He drew in a long gasp of air and tried to refocus as the King of Athawick announced, “Come, we will make our way to the palace.”
Carriages arrived, trumpets blared and the parties situated themselves for the short trip through the happy crowd back to the castle on the hill. But Jonah could still feel the warmth of Princess Ilaria’s stare coursing through his veins. A desire he hadn’t expected when he reluctantly accepted this post from his old friend and mentor, Admiral Westing. A desire he would certainly have to control for the next month during their visit.
After all, he’d never see the woman again after that.