A princess on the run, Briar Aldrich has no choice but to take on the role of scullery maid when Lord Sterling Huntington stumbles upon her in the woods and doesn't recognize her. But how safe is she actually in his home? And how safe is her heart?
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Adelaide's gardens truly were beautiful. Briar could see, even from here in the room they'd given her, how much she cared for it. It wasn't safe enough to walk the grounds herself, not with rebels lurking in the woods in search of Lord Huntington and the princess he'd rescued. So she could not see them herself but still she could tell how much work Adelaide had put into them and hoped she might get the chance to enjoy them up close someday. Though perhaps the time for enjoyment of simple things had passed along with her false servant's identity.
There was a soft knock on the door and Briar bid for whoever was outside to enter. She didn't bother turning around as they did. If they wished to speak, they would make themselves known. If they were here to serve, they would do so in the silence they had been taught.
"Princess," someone spoke and she recognized the name and the title immediately. There was only one occupant of this household who addressed her as such. "I have sent your letter to Sir Alfred Hughes as requested."
"Thank you," she replied, turning to face him. "And thank you so much for taking us in. I hope we have not brought further danger to your door."
"It would be my honor to defend you from those who mean you harm."
"Why?"
She hadn't meant to ask it. It was impolite to question a man's beliefs or political opinions but perhaps all of these mannerly ways were standing in the way of real progress, perhaps politeness was the curtain these rebels had been able to hide behind. And she truly wanted to know. Setting aside all pretense, why had this man chosen her cause to throw his support behind? What made a man lay down his life for his sovereign?
"Because I made an oath to your uncle and I have no intention of seeing his family torn apart or his throne overtaken by scoundrels even if he no longer lives and breathes," the Duke answered. She heard more passion in his tone at this declaration than she'd ever heard from him before and thought that perhaps she was beginning to understand what Adelaide saw in him.
Briar opened her mouth to answer but got no farther when there was another knock on my door and she and the Duke both turned as she called for the visitor to enter.
It was Lord Huntington. He stood in the doorway, peering in uncomfortably. He held a tray in his hand loaded with biscuits and jams and bacon and he nodded a polite greeting to his cousin's husband.
"I've brought your breakfast," Lord Huntington said kindly, meeting Briar's eyes as he did, "Princess."
Something about hearing the formal title from his lips gave her sorrow. He still saw her as his sovereign. Maybe he always would. Maybe he was too respectful to ever love her in the way that she wanted him to. Maybe he could only love her as his princess, maybe he wouldn't allow himself anything else.
But she wanted him to.
She wasn't sure when she had realized it. Perhaps one of those days living beneath him in rags and shared dormitories off the kitchen. Or perhaps once he'd known who she truly was and they'd shared a kiss in the firelight. Perhaps it had even been the moment he had chanced upon her in the woods, when she'd just escaped with her life, and his men nocked their bows and aimed their arrows at her. She couldn't pinpoint the exact time she had fallen for him but fallen, she had. And looking into his eyes, questioning whether or not he had fallen as well, it was killing her.
