Prince for Yuletide: A Victorian Christmas Novella Read online

  “Is he really a prince?” Theo blinked up at her. “Where’s his crown?”

  “You’ll have to ask him that yourself, next time you see him. But for now, we must be going.”

  “I’ll call upon you soon,” Selene said, escorting them to the front door.

  “I’m sure Mother and Father will be delighted to see you,” Eliana said.

  Her sister gave her a slightly exasperated look, while Hetty went to retrieve her cloak from the butler.

  “You must forgive your prince,” Selene said in a low voice. “Whatever he’s done, you must discover if there was good reason for it.”

  “He’s not my prince.”

  “And Jared wasn’t my duke—but I forgave him his deception. Don’t let this stand in the way of your happiness.”

  “There can be no happiness built on lies.” Eliana turned to Hetty. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready enough.” Hetty brushed at her cloak, which still sported a large damp patch from its part in the rescue.

  “At least it’s not far to Banning House.” Eliana, despite her irritation, kissed her sister on the cheek. “Thank you and Jared for your help.”

  “Of course.” Selene clasped Eliana’s hands. “Don’t do anything irrevocably foolish.”

  Like kiss Prince Sebastian? Too late.

  The air outside was cold enough to make Eliana’s breath plume. Prince Sebastian waited at the curb to hand them into the sleigh, and soon enough they were off with a jingle of sleigh bells. She did not think she would ever find the sound particularly merry again.

  As they glided through the streets of Mayfair, Eliana fought the temptation to lean against the warm solidity of Sebastian’s side. Their adventures were at an end. And no matter what her sister might think, there could be nothing between them.

  10

  Sebastian was acutely aware of Eliana seated beside him on the sleigh bench. She held herself stiffly, and he wished, quite foolishly, that he might gather her against him.

  But she would not welcome his attentions—she’d made that clear. For a short time, just after the rescue, he’d thought she was warming toward him, but that hope died when she’d told her sister he was unwelcome to call upon her. Her blue eyes had been frosty as he handed her into the sleigh.

  “Well,” Mistress Hetty said as they came to a stop in front of Banning House. Her voice held a note of forced cheerfulness. “Here we are. What an adventurous afternoon!”

  “At least everything ended well,” Eliana said.

  Sebastian silently disagreed as he leaped down and went around to hand the ladies out. Yes, they’d rescued the boy, but he feared he’d lost his bid for Eliana’s affections. How odd that not even two days ago he’d believed her to be a flighty, shallow young lady.

  Instead he’d seen strength and bravery, and perhaps a touch of loneliness in her eyes that matched his own, strange as that might be. And then there was the matter of that searing kiss, which had left him stunned.

  A pity it had not appeared to affect Eliana equally in turn.

  Mistress Hetty gave him a rueful smile as he assisted her from the sleigh. With a slight nod, she made her way up the walk, giving him a moment of privacy with Eliana.

  “Miss Eliana?” He held his hand out to her.

  She remained a moment in the sleigh, sunlight warm on her fair hair, her cheeks pink from the cold. He engraved that image in his memory—likely the last time he would ever be this close to her.

  “Prince Sebastian, I trust you will be true to your word,” she said. “I went sleighing with you and got rather more than I bargained for. Now you must honor your promise to never visit me again.”

  He set his jaw, biting back any words of entreaty. She’d made her choice, and he must abide by it. To ask her to reconsider would only make him appear even more the fool.

  “Despite what you think of me,” he said, voice clipped, “I will hold to our bargain.”

  She set her hand in his and stepped down from the sleigh. For a moment they stood there, hands clasped, gazes locked. His heart beat fiercely while words he could not say burned in his chest. Then she pulled away from him, chin high.

  “Farewell, your highness.”

  “Goodbye, Mademoiselle Red.”

  Her lips parted, but she said nothing—only whirled and hurried into the house without looking back. The door closed with a solid thud behind her.

  Sebastian folded his arms and stared blindly at the shrubbery beside the front door. So much for disguises, and adventure, and kisses. The day that had begun full of possibility had ended bleakly.

  But not, he reminded himself, any differently than every other day for the past year. It didn’t matter if he’d glimpsed a moment of light and warmth and acceptance in Eliana Banning’s eyes. That was a mythic summerland where he did not belong.

  He was, after all, the Ice Prince.

  Eliana hovered behind the curtains in the front parlor, watching Prince Sebastian as he stood unmoving before the sleigh. His expression was bleak, but she hardened her heart.

  This was the man who had cruelly abandoned Lady Peony on the very night he’d promised to ask her to marry him. And, to heap insult upon injury, lied to and deceived Eliana. He did not deserve her sympathy, but her scorn. She was right to insist that he never see her again—no matter that her treacherous emotions tried to insist otherwise.

  Still, she watched until the horse shook its bridle, rousing the prince from his thoughts. He lifted his head, his breath a plume of white in the air, then patted the horse on the shoulder and stepped into the sleigh.

  Pulling the collar of his borrowed greatcoat closely about his features, he flicked the reins and was off. She tried not to sink into misery at the sight.

  “Oh, my dear, what is the matter?”

  Eliana turned away from the window to see her mother standing in the doorway. Lady Blake’s blonde hair was swept up in an elegant coiffure, and she wore a blue brocade tea dress.

  “I’ve had a taxing afternoon,” Eliana said. “Not to put too fine a point on it.”

  Her mother went and settled on the sofa before the window, patting the cushion next to her. “Sit down and tell me. Does it have to do with the gentleman who called upon you today?”

  Eliana sat beside her mother, trying to decide how much to reveal. Best that she begin with the most obvious event of the day.

  “I must let you know that a Lord and Lady Plumley will be visiting at some point to thank me for helping rescue their son,” she said.

  “Heavens! What happened?”

  Eliana recounted the events of the afternoon. Her mother gasped when Eliana described crawling out on the ice.

  “It was extraordinarily brave of you,” Lady Blake said, taking Eliana’s hand and holding it tightly. “But you should not have risked yourself so.”

  “I had to. I was the lightest person there and had the best chance of reaching the boy without the ice breaking further.”

  “Your gentleman caller should have kept you from such danger. Count Nikolai—is that his name?”

  “Yes,” Eliana lied. “But he won’t be calling again.”

  “He won’t?” Her mother gave her a concerned look. “Your heart seems troubled by it.”

  “Not at all.” Eliana’s gaze went out the window, to the sleigh tracks disappearing down the street. “The gentleman in question isn’t worth the heartache. Truly. I’m going up to rest now, Mother.”

  Lady Blake squeezed her hand, then let go. “I hope you trust your feelings in such matters. You know your father and I want only your happiness.”

  “As do I.”

  Mustering up a smile that felt merely painted on, Eliana left the parlor. She must believe that somewhere in the world was a gentleman who would love her. Not a wolf in disguise, or a deceitful prince, but a man of honor and integrity. Such a man she could give her whole heart to.

  If he even existed.

  11

  Sebastian leaned toward the mirror i
n his dressing room and turned his head side to side, examining his hair. The fair strands were overlaid with an ashen cast, the residue of the dye that his valet had assured him would wash out without a problem.

  “My hair still looks odd,” he said to Reece. “I’m not certain I should go out.”

  “You can’t hide in your rooms forever,” his valet said. “Look at the volume of correspondence you’ve received in the last three days.”

  “Mostly from my mother,” Sebastian said dryly. “And you know very well I haven’t been hiding in my rooms.”

  The day after young Theo’s rescue, he’d visited the boy’s family to make sure all was well. To be honest, he’d hoped to cross paths with Eliana, too, but she had already come and gone.

  It wasn’t breaking his word, he reasoned with himself, if he were to encounter her in the course of making social calls.

  Nor was it breaking his word to stop at the finest jeweler on Bond Street and commission a pendant shaped like a delicate silver snowflake, set with a dusting of diamonds.

  Don’t be an idiot, the wiser part of him insisted. She doesn’t want to see you.

  He could not help but see her, however. She was constantly in his mind, waking and sleeping. His dreams ranged from heated recollections of their kiss to frigid nightmares where she plunged through the ice and he was helpless to save her.

  “Perhaps another rinse with lemon juice will help, your highness,” Reece said.

  “If we must.” Sebastian was due at the weekly family dinner soon, and if he did not make an appearance, his mother would be convinced he was on his deathbed. “I’ll tell Mother the color is a lingering effect of the illness.”

  “I’ll send down to the kitchens for more lemon juice and hot water,” Reece said. “All in the name of your cure.”

  “Remind me not to trust you in matters of disguise again,” Sebastian said.

  With an inward sigh, he braced himself for yet another rinsing of his hair. He was beginning to despise the smell of warm citrus.

  As expected, Sebastian’s mother noticed his hair the moment he stepped into the foyer of her mansion and doffed his hat. He was not sure she believed his assertion that it was due to his supposed illness, but she did not dispute his claim, only narrowed her eyes and scolded him for being late.

  At least he had the consolation of an excellent dinner—better than his own cook produced from the admittedly small kitchen of his bachelor’s lodgings.

  Sebastian might be a prince, but he did not see the need to occupy an entire three-story town house and keep a large staff—despite his mother’s disapproval.

  “Have you given more thought to taking other lodgings?” she asked as he escorted her into the dining room. “You must properly represent the monarchy of Sayn-Wittgenstein. There is a certain style royalty is expected to maintain.”

  “You do that well enough.” He glanced up at the massive chandelier over the table, then at the rest of the gilt-encrusted dining room. “No one will think our family lacking in ostentation.”

  His sister Margret, already standing at her chair, sent him a sympathetic smile, but said nothing. Mother’s opinions were impossible to sway.

  As soon as they were settled at the table, the servants brought out the soup course; an excellent lobster bisque.

  “What have you been up to this week?” Sebastian asked his sister—mostly to deflect the conversation away from his mother’s constant critique of his life, but also because he realized he almost never asked her anything. Eliana would not approve of how distantly he treated Margret, of that he was certain.

  His sister launched into a detailed report of the various balls and parties she’d attended, complete with impersonations that were quite good. Even Mother softened a bit when Margret did a fair impression of Lady Antwerp’s rapid-fire monologues on the state of England.

  “And did you go to the Midwinter Masque?” Sebastian asked.

  “Goodness, no,” their mother answered. “Not only is the company there too fast for Margret, but that dreadful woman tried to entrap you there last year. No one in our family shall ever set foot at that event again.”

  She gave a delicate shudder, and Sebastian refrained from pointing out that she’d been most encouraging when he’d declared he was going to court Lady Peony.

  An unfortunate choice, especially when a much better one had been standing next to her all along. He rued the day he’d dismissed Miss Eliana Banning as an empty-headed flirt and decided to pursue her friend, the supposedly dependable and worthy Lady Peony.

  Throat tight, he took a swallow of his wine. There was no changing the past.

  “Not to bring up too tender a subject,” Mother continued, “but who are you courting now?”

  “No one.” He gave the same answer he always did.

  It was still true—no matter that he could not banish the memory of Eliana Banning’s smile. Not to mention her courage, and kindness, and beauty…

  His mother sniffed. “Are there no ladies in London worthy of a prince?”

  There might be one, but he would not say her name.

  “Perhaps it’s time for me to leave England,” he said, partly to annoy Mother, but partly to say aloud what he’d been contemplating.

  He could not continue on as he had been, that was certain. London held almost nothing for him except a disappointed mother and a sister he’d used to know.

  And a young woman who might have been his future, had he chosen more wisely.

  “Oh, Sebbie, don’t,” his sister cried. “We’re finally getting reacquainted. I don’t want to lose you again so soon.”

  Her words sent a pang through him.

  “I’ll return,” he said. “I simply need a change of scene.” And a town where he wouldn’t be looking for Eliana Banning on every street corner.

  “I’m sorry to hear it.” His mother folded her napkin precisely and laid it on the table. “When you return, I hope you’ll have grown up enough to take more responsibility in your station.”

  “I’m hardly a wastrel, Mother,” he replied, stung.

  “No.” She fixed him with a hard gaze. “You are a prince and must act accordingly. Perhaps more travel will do you good. I see I was wrong to hope that you might wed an English lady and settle in London. You are not suited to it by temperament. Indeed, I’d venture to say you’re as cold as your father.”

  “It seems so.” He drew in a breath through burning lungs. “I will, of course, take my official leave of you before I go.”

  “I’d expect so.” She rose and gave him a stiff nod. “You’re excused from my table, Sebastian. I imagine you’d like to start planning your retreat from England as soon as possible.”

  Margret watched him dolefully, her eyes bright with unshed tears, as he pushed back his chair. Standing, he made them his most courteous bow, despite the anger simmering beneath his skin.

  He did not feel cold. Rather the opposite.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said. “I’ll see myself out.”

  The butler was surprised by his sudden exit, and hastily sent for Sebastian’s carriage to be brought round. Sebastian collected his coat, hat, and gloves, and declared he’d wait outside. He didn’t want to stay a moment longer in his mother’s mansion.

  Once out in the fresh air, he took a deep breath, willing himself to calm. Overhead, the sky had softened to dove gray, and a few stars winked on the horizon. The gas lamps lining the street shed a cheery glow, illuminating the dirty snow and slush churned up by carriage wheels.

  Yes, he would leave London. But he would not flee like a whipped dog, his tail between his legs. No matter what his mother said, he knew how to behave as a prince, and a man.

  If Eliana could master her fear, then she deserved no less from him. Before he went, he would take his heart in his hands and tell Eliana Banning that he was in love with her, and the consequences be damned.

  12

  Although she usually enjoyed the yearly tradition of singing car
ols with her friends, Eliana was having a difficult time rising to the occasion. The only one who had seemed to notice that something was the matter was her brother, William, but she put him off by saying she had a touch of the stomachache.

  After everyone gathered, they had sung at Banning House and, by special request, at the Plumleys’, where young Theo looked to have made a full recovery. Now they were making their way to Lord and Lady Ashford’s, where the afternoon of caroling would end with a small party.

  “Did you hear?” Lady Peony said, her eyes bright. “Prince Sebastian is leaving London! Oh, what a blessed relief.”

  Eliana’s heart clutched. “He is? Are you certain?”

  “Yes. My lady’s maid heard it from one of the servants at his mother’s house. He announced it last evening at dinner, apparently. I suppose he thinks to leave on a heroic note, as some people seem to believe he was involved in rescuing a drowning boy in Hyde Park the other day.”

  “I’ve heard the same,” Eliana said. “Do you think it was him?”

  Peony waved her hand. “No, it was some gentleman with black hair. But I heard you were there as well. Who is this mysterious fellow? You must tell me!”

  “I shall, later.” Eliana kept her voice light. “How soon is Price Sebastian departing, do you know?”

  The news made her feel as though she’d swallowed a large stone.

  Which was foolish, since she’d told Prince Sebastian to keep his distance. But with the prospect of his departure looming, she suddenly realized she did not, after all, want him to completely disappear from her life.

  She was attracted to him, she could not deny it. Yet he was not worthy of her affections… was he? Could she possibly forgive him for what he’d done to Peony?

  Yes.

  The realization was like a bell rung inside her. She must.

  Eliana’s breath loosened in her chest, her thoughts unfurling like bright wings, ready to carry her dreams into reality. The cocoon had broken open, and she suddenly wanted to sing and dance in the middle of the slushy sidewalk.