To Protect a Princess by Jess Michaels
Chapter 8
One thing Jonah had always prided himself on was his focus. It had served him well during his time in the Navy, it had become something he relied upon after his inheritance when there was so much to learn and to repair. Yet today he sat at his desk in his study, staring at the paperwork in front of him. He had read the same sentence in the ledger at least five times and could not have told someone what it said if he were held at gunpoint. His errant mind kept wandering, traveling down winding paths that always took him to the same place. The same moment.
When Ilaria’s lips had touched his at the Donville Masquerade just the night before.
No matter what he did, he could not seem to make his mind file away the feel of her mouth to be forgotten. He couldn’t make his body stop hardening at the memory of her touch. He had pleasured himself last night and again this morning to make it stop, but to no avail. She intruded upon his every dream and his every waking moment.
“I beg your pardon, Captain Crawford,” his butler said as he stepped into the doorway. “Admiral Westing is here. Would you like to receive him here or in the parlor?”
Jonah blinked. The admiral was not supposed to be here until one and it could not be that late. Except the man was always on time, which meant Jonah had been woolgathering and fantasizing for hours.
“Captain?”
“I apologize, Hudson,” Jonah said, rising from the desk. “Clearly I am out of sorts. Why don’t you bring the admiral here? It is as comfortable a meeting place as the parlor.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll have tea brought shortly.”
Jonah inclined his head and smoothed his jacket, putting himself in perfect order almost out of habit. He could hear the admiral’s quick, certain steps as he approached and smiled slightly at the memories they created. Happy ones, mostly.
The admiral led the way in, with Hudson at his heels. The butler drew a breath to announce him, but Jonah raised a hand with a chuckle. “Thank you, Hudson, I see him.”
He saluted his former superior officer, and the admiral quickly returned it before his lined face tilted in a smile and he held out his hand for a shake. “Good to see you, my boy.”
Jonah let his shoulders relax. “It is good to be seen, Admiral. I was glad to receive your missive, I wasn’t certain you were in London.”
“Mrs. Westing is the reason, of course,” the admiral said as the two men took a seat before the fire. “She wanted to be in Town for at least part of the Season, and when she heard the royal family of Athawick was here, she could not be deterred from her desires.”
Jonah fought to keep a reaction from his face. It seemed he would not escape this topic, even with his old friend. “I’m certain you are already connected to far more exalted company than I, but if you are in need of an invitation to one of the royal events, I might be able to assist.”
“Ah yes, your connection to Athawick,” the admiral said. “During Prinny’s pomp and circumstance visit two summers ago. I’d almost forgotten I chose you for that ridiculous duty. Was I angry with you at the time?”
Jonah chuckled. “I believe you acted like it was an honor at the time, sir. And it was, I know that. But yes, I do know the family a little.”
“They’re causing quite the stir with all the rumors of marriages to come.”
Jonah pushed to his feet. “Drink?” he asked as he moved to the sideboard. The door opened as he did and a maid slipped in with a tea set. She placed it on the sideboard and Jonah nodded her away. “We have, as you can see, both the staid and the not-so-much.”
“As much as I’d like to try that whisky, the wife is insisting I make a few better choices. So tea for me. No milk, no sugar.”
Jonah fixed it as such, taking his time so as to avoid the continued conversation that made him think even more of Ilaria’s scent.
“Are you drying the leaves, yourself?” the admiral groused when Jonah had clearly taken too long.
Jonah snorted out a laugh as he handed the cup over. “Aren’t you the one who preached patience, old man?”
“To you recalcitrant youth. I’ve earned my haste through age and experience.” Jonah retook his place and the admiral looked at him closely. “You don’t seem to like this subject.”
“The subject of tea?”
The admiral arched a brow. “Of the Athawick business.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I have no feelings one way or another.”
“Liar,” the admiral said as he sipped his tea. “What is it then?”
Jonah sighed. This man had been his superior officer, yes, his sponsor to greater things, but he had also taken Jonah under his wing when it came to the personal. He’d been a father figure, the only real one Jonah had ever had. And now he was torn between getting good advice and the fear he might let the admiral down.
“The new king and I became friendly during my summer in Athawick,” he said slowly. “And he has asked me to take on a duty that I am…uncertain about.”
The admiral tilted his head. “Explain.”
Jonah did so quickly, leaving out the fact that he’d followed Ilaria to Donville and kissed her. “So I’m to trail the princess, keeping an eye out.”
“Interesting,” the admiral said.
“Don’t lie,” Jonah snorted. “You think all this court intrigue to be as foolish as spring lambs.”
“It is,” the admiral said with a shake of his head. “People with too much time and money and not half enough sense. But I’m also no fool as to how your situation has changed. This is an opportunity, you know. One to make a name for yourself in the minds of those with rank. It could align you with those who could help you. Raise you up.”
Jonah bent his head. “God’s teeth, that sounds dreadful.”
“But it is the way of your new world.”
“Is it? Because I am the bastard son of the dissolute youngest child of a minor viscount. That I inherited his little estate and all its problems is a weight on my shoulders and it stole all I worked for over the decades preceding. I have a hard time seeing it as an opportunity.”
“Oh, don’t sit around feeling sorry for yourself,” the admiral harrumphed, and once again Jonah smothered a smile. The man was direct, he had missed that. “It’s a shame that you had to give up your future in the Navy, but since you did, it would be just as shameful not to do something with the opportunity you are afforded. One that can be multiplied by aligning yourself with the family du jour.”
“Ugh, you just love to be right, don’t you?”
“It happens so often, I scarcely notice it.”
“I think I need a stronger drink than tea,” Jonah teased. He had gotten up to return to the sideboard to retrieve the whisky when there was a light knock on the study door and Hudson reappeared.
“I am sorry to intrude, Captain, but we’ve received a message from the staff of the King of Athawick. He is intending to join you in half an hour.”
Jonah stared for a moment and then nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be prepared. Do follow whatever protocol they have laid out.”
Hudson looked slightly dazed, but he hurried off to do just that. When he was gone, the admiral blinked up at Jonah. “Doesn’t muck around, does he?”
Jonah drew in a long breath and added a large splash of alcohol to his tea, then waggled the bottle to offer the same to his companion. The admiral laughed and held out his cup.
“The man is accustomed to getting his way,” Jonah explained before he returned the bottle to the side table. He sat down and the two men clinked their cups.
“Why the urgency today?”
“I wrote him a note last night telling him I wanted to meet to update him on a…situation with Ilaria.” He realized in a flash how familiar that was and shifted. “Princess Ilaria. His sister. The—the princess.”
The admiral’s eyes widened a fraction at his stammering. “I see.”
Jonah ignored the tone and continued, “I assumed we would arrange some time in his schedule over the next few days, but apparently he did not feel it could wait.”
“What is your connection to this young woman?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Jonah said, but his tone sounded so hollow to his own ears, he was certain the admiral heard it too.
“Lying to a commanding officer?” he said softly.
Jonah rolled his eyes. “You’re not my commanding officer anymore.”
“Then allow me to be your friend.” The admiral leaned forward and draped his elbows over his knees. “What is your connection to Princess Ilaria? And don’t tell me there is none because I see you go gooey eyed at the mention of her name.”
It was a markedly irritating thing to have a person who could see one so closely. This man had known Jonah when he was little more than a pup. He’d been hard with him when he needed, gentle when he needed that. And he was one of the few people in this world with a window to Jonah’s soul.
“When I met Ilaria in Athawick, there may have been an…attraction there. Nothing came of it, of course. I was just a captain in the Royal Navy. It was a flirtation at most, harmless.”
He blinked as he thought of that heated moment on the terrace all those years ago. It hadn’t felt all that harmless.
Jonah cleared his throat. “Just for good fun. And I will admit that I still find her very attractive now that she’s here. More than that, I think it would be unwise to say. I know the folly of it and I will exert all the control you taught me to keep myself in line.”
To his surprise, the admiral’s face softened slightly. “I see. Under normal circumstances, I would be very pleased if you were mooning over some woman. I’ve had a very happy marriage for nearly thirty years and I would wish nothing less for you. But in this case…I suppose we know there is no good end to it.”
“No,” Jonah said quietly. “And so I think it best not to discuss it. I took on the duty that the king requested of me. I intend to fulfill it to the best of my abilities. And you seem to think that there could be some benefit to me because of it, which remains to be seen. Other than that, there is nothing more to say on the subject.”
The admiral nodded slowly. “As you say. Then let us speak of other things, shall we?”
Jonah nodded, and for a little while they talked about the admiral’s duties, his impending retirement and a few mutual acquaintances. Jonah was able to relax for the first time since the arrival of the Athawick Royal Family, and so he was almost disappointed when Hudson reappeared to announce that the King of Athawick had arrived.
The king was led into the room with little pomp or circumstance beyond Hudson nearly prostrating himself as he bowed. Jonah shook his head as he moved to the man and bowed with far less grandeur.
“Your Majesty,” he said as the two men shook hands. “May I present Admiral Westing, my superior officer when I served.”
The admiral stepped forward and executed a polite bow. “Your Majesty.”
“Good afternoon, Admiral, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m sorry to intrude upon your prior business,” Grantham said.
“Not at all,” the admiral said. “I’m sure the captain will be well pleased to be free of my foolishness.” He winked at Jonah, who laughed in response.
“I fear I bring enough of my own,” Grantham said with a quick glance for Jonah. “As I’m sure you are well aware.”
“You and your family are the talk of London,” the admiral admitted. “One could scarcely not be aware of your every move thanks to the gossip sheets and whisper campaigns. My wife is enthralled.”
Grantham chuckled. “It seems an even split between irritated and enthralled. Depending on how we disrupt the flow of traffic.”
The admiral let out one of his booming laughs, and Jonah and Grantham joined in because it was impossible not to. “It is good to be so self-aware, Your Majesty. And now I shall leave you two to what I’m certain is a matter of great importance.” He turned to Jonah. “It is always good to see you, my boy.”
“And you, sir.”
They saluted and then the admiral bowed to Grantham again, this time with what Jonah felt was more warmth and sincerity. He slipped from the room and closed the door behind himself, leaving them alone.
“Seems a good sort,” Grantham said, and nodded as Jonah motioned toward the tea set.
“He is. The best of men. His wife is wonderful, as well.” He said the last knowing it would evoke the very response Grantham gave.
“Ah yes, the one who is enthralled by us. I shall make sure they are invited to some of the events.”
“Thank you, that would be very kind.” They returned to the seats he and the admiral had abandoned a moment before. “I admit, Your Majesty, I am surprised to have your company.”
Grantham pursed his lips. “The way Ilaria was acting this morning, I felt I had to see you given your note.”
Jonah blinked, trying to keep his countenance from showing too much. “And how was your sister acting?”
“She was in a mood all morning,” Grantham said with a sigh. “Angry with me, frustrated with our mother. When I asked her why, she lashed out, but I could see she was on the verge of tears. She didn’t look like she slept at all. I fear she is becoming more and more willful with each passing day.”
Jonah hesitated. He’d had every intention of telling Grantham that his sister had gone to the Donville Masquerade, though he’d never meant to say that they kissed. But now, hearing about Ilaria’s tears…he questioned that intention. She’d said over and over that she felt trapped by this situation. Would trapping her more really be of help? Because that was what telling Grantham would do. The king would lock her down even further, extinguishing her light more and more until she was nothing but a husk beneath it all.
Jonah didn’t want to do that to her.
“I think your sister needs more coverage,” he said. “She does need a closer eye overall. That was what I wished to discuss with you.”
Grantham’s brows lowered. “And you could not have written that in the note you sent, rather than implying we needed to speak in person?”
“Of course,” Jonah said, inclining his head. “I am sorry, Your Majesty.”
“No, I am.” Grantham sighed. “I am being no better than my sister, for all my judgment. I suppose the pressures of this visit are weighing on us all. I am making Ilaria unhappy, I know that I am. I don’t like doing it, despite what she thinks.”
Jonah could feel the anguish in this man coming off of him in waves. He couldn’t help but want to assist. After all, he liked Grantham. Perhaps their disparate situations would never allow them to truly be friends, but in another life he knew they would have been.
“And?” he encouraged gently.
Grantham eyed him carefully. “And…and I am considering leaving my family here and returning home to Athawick.”
“The situation there is getting worse?” Jonah asked.
Grantham shrugged. “It is hard to assess from here. There are reports of increasing unrest in small pockets of the population.”
Jonah shifted. He knew, and he was certain this man knew just as well, that small pockets could become explosive if not managed one way or another. “What does your family think?”
“I haven’t told them.”
Jonah drew back. “You haven’t…why?”
For a moment it seemed Grantham might answer that question. Might unburden himself from the weight he carried. But then he hardened himself. “This is not your problem to fix, Captain Crawford. I should not have brought it to your doorstep. I will increase the coverage on my sister, as you have suggested. But I hope you’ll continue to watch over her.”
Jonah caught his breath. He knew he ought to refuse that. To tell Grantham he couldn’t. Being near Ilaria was too much a temptation, and after the kiss he knew it would only get worse, not better.
“Please,” Grantham said softly. “For a…for a friend.”
Jonah flinched. He couldn’t refuse that. “Yes.”
The relief that washed over the king’s face was palpable. “Very good. Tonight we’re having a small gathering. Just the family and a few select others. Will you attend?”
Jonah knew Grantham was stressing the intimacy of the gathering in order to entice him, but instead it raised his anxiety. He would not be able to avoid Ilaria the same way he could at a gala event with hundreds of people.
“Captain?”
He nodded. “Yes. Of course I will attend.”
“Very good. I’ll have my man send you the particulars. And now I must rush off, yet another tedious session with the Prince Regent this afternoon. He really is unbearable company.”
Jonah smiled. “An experience I have shared. Good luck and good day, Your Majesty.”
“Good day,” Grantham said, and then he was off, leaving Jonah to stare after him.
He thought about the admiral’s admonishment that he could further himself with his connection to this family. The old man was probably right, and yet he feared that would come at a cost. To his mind. To his body.
And if he wasn’t careful, to his heart.