Read Online The Trouble With Princesses by Tracy Anne Warren - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tracy Anne Warren
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unreasonable tyrant like him. He’d caught her in an unguarded moment, when her defenses had been down. To say nothing of the fact that his kisses had been directly responsible for muddling her brain at the time.
Since then he had not tried to repeat their embrace. He hadn’t so much as touched her except to share a single quadrille one evening at a ball.
Not that she wanted him to touch her; she most certainly did not. It was mortifying enough that she was still awakening some mornings with the memory of his kisses on her lips. All she wanted was for him to respect her wishes and let her live her life as she chose.
If only he would stop trying to interfere! Honestly, she didn’t know why he was being so overbearing. It wasn’t as if she was a part of his family.
But Emma was.
And therein lay the crux of the problem. What should have been her reputation to ruin, or not, as she chose, had gotten all muddled up with Emma’s reputation and, by extension, Rupert’s own.
As prince regent and future king of Rosewald, he had standards to maintain, rules that must not be broken, in his regal estimation. Since she was so set on breaking them, he was now set on stopping her.
He claimed he cared about her safety, and perhaps in some respects he did. Still she suspected his motives went deeper and were bound up not just in Emma’s reputation, but in an annoying determination to exert his power over her.
If only he had gone home when he’d originally planned, her life would now be heaven. Instead, he’d turned her world into one frustration after another, interrupting her at the most inconvenient times, intimidating all but her most persistent suitors.
Honestly, he was worse than a Spanish duenna.
If she didn’t get rid of him soon, the Season would be over and so would her chance to secure a lover.
Which was precisely what he wanted.
But Rupert sadly underestimated her if he thought she would be so easily discouraged. She would find a way around him. She just had to come up with a plan.
For today, though, she was simply hoping for a respite, an activity designed strictly for her own enjoyment and edification. Over the past few weeks, she had missed several intriguing lectures given by the literary and intellectual club to which she belonged. When she had received the invitation to hear a talk on the natural rights of women and the tyranny of traditional marriage, she realized it would be the perfect way to spend a free afternoon.
A Rupert -free afternoon!
For surely even he would not wish to listen to a lengthy discussion of modernist notions about the role and place of women.
A short while later, the coach rolled to a stop in front of a small but well-kept town house in Bloomsbury. This section of London was decidedly middle class and not at all the usual kind of neighborhood a member of the Ton would visit, especially a princess. But she prided herself on her open mind about such petty distinctions, relishing the sense of independence she always experienced when she came to one of the lectures in this part of the city. Here she could be among like-minded individuals, who valued others for the sharpness of their minds rather than for the weight of their pocketbooks or the fashionable quality of their attire.
Once inside, she greeted a few acquaintances, accepted a cup of hot, sweet tea, then took a seat in the back of the drawing room, as was her habit. This afternoon’s speaker was a female writer and lecturer who had traveled extensively throughout Europe seeking to understand the status of women in various cultures and find universal themes and solutions for their intellectual and economic enslavement.
Ariadne opened her blue silk reticule and took out a pencil and paper. She listened attentively as the lecture began, making notes now and then on her pad.
Nearly an hour later, her tea was long gone and her pad and pencil lay idle in her lap. She repressed the need to yawn, opening her eyes wider and
Since then he had not tried to repeat their embrace. He hadn’t so much as touched her except to share a single quadrille one evening at a ball.
Not that she wanted him to touch her; she most certainly did not. It was mortifying enough that she was still awakening some mornings with the memory of his kisses on her lips. All she wanted was for him to respect her wishes and let her live her life as she chose.
If only he would stop trying to interfere! Honestly, she didn’t know why he was being so overbearing. It wasn’t as if she was a part of his family.
But Emma was.
And therein lay the crux of the problem. What should have been her reputation to ruin, or not, as she chose, had gotten all muddled up with Emma’s reputation and, by extension, Rupert’s own.
As prince regent and future king of Rosewald, he had standards to maintain, rules that must not be broken, in his regal estimation. Since she was so set on breaking them, he was now set on stopping her.
He claimed he cared about her safety, and perhaps in some respects he did. Still she suspected his motives went deeper and were bound up not just in Emma’s reputation, but in an annoying determination to exert his power over her.
If only he had gone home when he’d originally planned, her life would now be heaven. Instead, he’d turned her world into one frustration after another, interrupting her at the most inconvenient times, intimidating all but her most persistent suitors.
Honestly, he was worse than a Spanish duenna.
If she didn’t get rid of him soon, the Season would be over and so would her chance to secure a lover.
Which was precisely what he wanted.
But Rupert sadly underestimated her if he thought she would be so easily discouraged. She would find a way around him. She just had to come up with a plan.
For today, though, she was simply hoping for a respite, an activity designed strictly for her own enjoyment and edification. Over the past few weeks, she had missed several intriguing lectures given by the literary and intellectual club to which she belonged. When she had received the invitation to hear a talk on the natural rights of women and the tyranny of traditional marriage, she realized it would be the perfect way to spend a free afternoon.
A Rupert -free afternoon!
For surely even he would not wish to listen to a lengthy discussion of modernist notions about the role and place of women.
A short while later, the coach rolled to a stop in front of a small but well-kept town house in Bloomsbury. This section of London was decidedly middle class and not at all the usual kind of neighborhood a member of the Ton would visit, especially a princess. But she prided herself on her open mind about such petty distinctions, relishing the sense of independence she always experienced when she came to one of the lectures in this part of the city. Here she could be among like-minded individuals, who valued others for the sharpness of their minds rather than for the weight of their pocketbooks or the fashionable quality of their attire.
Once inside, she greeted a few acquaintances, accepted a cup of hot, sweet tea, then took a seat in the back of the drawing room, as was her habit. This afternoon’s speaker was a female writer and lecturer who had traveled extensively throughout Europe seeking to understand the status of women in various cultures and find universal themes and solutions for their intellectual and economic enslavement.
Ariadne opened her blue silk reticule and took out a pencil and paper. She listened attentively as the lecture began, making notes now and then on her pad.
Nearly an hour later, her tea was long gone and her pad and pencil lay idle in her lap. She repressed the need to yawn, opening her eyes wider and
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