Princess Annie Read online

  Princess Annie

  Linda Lael Miller

  Pocket Books (1994)

  Rating: ★★★☆☆

  Tags: SOC035000

  SOC035000ttt

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  From Booklist

  In revolution-torn Bavia, Annie Trevarren is helping her friend Phaedra, the princess, prepare for her upcoming arranged marriage. Phaedra’s brother, Rafael, the ruling prince, is still grieving his late wife, but he is determined to see Phaedra married. Annie enlivens Rafael’s bleak life as he faces a rebellion against his late father’s villainy. Rafael refuses to see Annie as a woman in love with him until she virtually seduces his pants off. Meanwhile, the revolution reaches its final stages and Rafael is besieged at the family keep. He arranges for Annie to leave with her father before he joins the fighting, but Annie is determined to return to rescue Rafael from certain death with or without any help. In this companion novel to Taming Charlotte (Pocket, 1993), Annie Trevarren proves she is just as determined as her mother, Charlotte, when it comes to choosing the right man and keeping him at all costs. Highly recommended for all collections. Melanie Duncan

  Review

  Romantic Times Linda Lael Miller enchants readers.

  LOOK FOR THE FOUR THRILLING

  NOVELS IN

  LlNDA LAEL MILLER’S

  CORBIN SERIES

  BANNER O’BRIEN

  CORBIN’S FANCY

  MEMORY’S EMBRACE

  MY DARLING MELISSA

  AND THE MAGNIFICENT

  ORPHAN TRAIN TRILOGY

  LILY AND THE MAJOR

  EMMA AND THE OUTLAW

  CAROLINE AND THE RAIDER

  AND DISCOVER THESE SPLENDID

  ROMANCES BY

  LINDA LAEL MILLER

  ANGELFIRE

  DANIEL’S BRIDE

  DESIRE AND DESTINY

  FLETCHER’S WOMAN

  LAURALEE

  THE LEGACY

  MOONFIRE

  TAMING CHARLOTTE

  WANTON ANGEL

  WILLOW

  YANKEE WIFE

  All Available from Pocket Books

  Rave Reviews for

  “One of the Hottest

  Romance Authors Writing

  Today” (Romantic Times)

  LINDA LAEL MILLER

  Taming Charlotte

  “Miller fills this …romance with spirited repartee…. Charlotte is appealing and clever….”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Another winner from the pen of master storyteller Linda Lael Miller. In the tradition of Romancing the Stone … this sensual story, peppered with earthy humor, is guaranteed to charm everyone.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  Yankee Wife

  “Sweeping and complex …Yankee Wife is a beautiful and meaningful romance—one of Ms. Miller’s best and destined for ‘bestsellerdom.’”

  —Romantic Times

  “You’ll have the time of your life keeping up with this quartet! … Read this highly entertaining tale….”

  —Rendezvous

  Daniel’s Bride

  “Linda Lael Miller is in top form as she brings readers into this warm, tender and exciting love story with touches of humor, poignancy and great compassion. Daniel’s Bride is a delectable tidbit.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Linda Lael Miller is the greatest! Daniel’s Bride sizzles with humor, danger and romance, encompassing every emotion and leaving you breathless.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  Caroline and the Raider

  “Funny, exciting and heartwarming, Caroline and the Raider is a delight—another romance that’s as wonderful and hot as you’d expect from Linda Lael Miller!”

  —Romantic Times

  Emma and the Outlaw

  “Ms. Miller’s unique way of tempering sensuality with tenderness in her characters makes them come alive and walk right off the pages and into your heart…. Emma and her outlaw will captivate and enchant you.”

  —Rendezvous

  Lily and the Major

  “Earthy and sensuous, these two lovers are another wonderful hero and heroine presented to us from Ms. Miller’s fertile and very creative imagination. If all the girls’ stories are this delicious, have we got a treat in store? Darn tooting!”

  —Rendezvous

  “An absolutely joyous book, it will warm every reader’s heart.”

  —Romantic Times

  Moonfire

  “Linda Lael Miller continues to prove that she is one of the hottest romance authors writing today. This is a novel filled with passion, mystery, drama, humor and powerful emotions. Her love scenes sizzle and smolder with sensuality.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Sizzling love scenes and excellent characterization make Moonfire a delectable morsel of romantic fiction.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  Angelfire

  “FIVE STARS—HIGHEST RATING! … Linda Lael Miller is a most talented craftsman with the written word. Her characters step out of the pages majestically and the reader is soon on very intimate terms with them.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “One of Linda Lael Miller’s hottest, most sizzling romances … Readers will be captivated by these headstrong, vulnerable lovers, their heartwarming love story and the scorching sensuality that pervades every page.”

  —Romantic Times

  My Darling Melissa

  “[An] adorable, sprightly romance. Melissa is a delight—probably the most stubborn heroine of the season. Her determination to succeed, her unbridled sensuality and special brand of humor will capture your imagination.”

  —Romantic Times

  “A fast, entertaining read. Ms. Miller’s incorporation of the suffrage movement and the returning Corbin characters gave an added dimension to the story.”

  —Rendezvous

  “Unsinkable fun. The author dishes up her favorite fare: plucky women with the strength to reason and the passion to follow their hearts; powerful men who find an independent woman infuriating yet irresistible; countless love sequences that leave plenty to the imagination; and a flavorful, 1890s setting.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Books by Linda Lael Miller

  Princess Annie

  The Legacy

  Taming Charlotte

  Yankee Wife

  Daniel’s Bride

  Caroline and the Raider

  Emma and the Outlaw

  Lily and the Major

  My Darling Melissa

  Angelfire

  Moonfire

  Wanton Angel

  Lauralee

  Memory’s Embrace

  Corbin’s Fancy

  Willow

  Banner O’Brien

  Desire and Destiny

  Fletcher’s Woman

  Published by POCKET BOOKS

  For orders other than by individual consumers, Pocket Books grants a discount on the purchase of 10 or more copies of single titles for special markets or premium use. For further details, please write to the Vice-President of Special Markets, Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

  For information on how individual consumers can place orders, please write to Mail Order Department, Paramount Publishing, 200 Old Tappan Road, Old Tappan, NJ 07675.

  The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance t
o actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

  A Pocket Star Book published by

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  Copyright © 1994 by Linda Lael Miller

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce

  this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue

  of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  ISBN: 0-671-79793-X

  eISBN 978-1-451-60290-6

  First Pocket Books printing December 1994

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

  POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered

  trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  Cover art by Mitzura Salgian

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  To Kathey Bates,

  for blow-drying my wristwatch in Rome,

  making sure that nonfat lattes arrive on time,

  and best of all,

  for the introduction to Francis Crawford of Lymond.

  Grazie.

  PRINCESS

  ANNIE

  CHAPTER 1

  St. James Keep, Bavia, 1895

  “What the deuce is she doing up there?” Rafael St. James, prince of Bavia, demanded, bending as far out his chamber window as he could without plunging headfirst into the empty moat.

  A light and drizzling rain was falling, that gloomy evening in late May, but he could see all too clearly. Annie Trevarren, a lithe, barefooted figure clad in a pair of kidskin breeches and a flowing shirt that might have been pinched from his own wardrobe, was embracing the face of a gargoyle on the crumbling parapet of the south tower.

  Rafael felt an inward wrench at the sight of her, a tug born of something other than fear for her safety.

  Beside him, his eighteen-year-old sister, Phaedra, fidgeted and wrung her hands. “Annie wanted a clear view of the lake,” she said, as if that were reason enough to risk life and limb. “You mustn’t be angry, Rafael, she can’t help her adventurous nature—boldness runs in the Trevarren family, you know….”

  He cursed Miss Annie Trevarren and her alleged “adventurous nature” as he whirled away from the window and sprinted across the room toward the yawning doors, which stood a little ajar because of Phaedra’s abrupt entrance. The princess scurried along behind him, moving as rapidly as her cumbersome skirts would allow and prattling the whole way. Rafael ran down the hall toward the enclosed staircase in the southern-most corner of the keep.

  “Annie occasionally does impulsive things—but she invariably regrets them later and makes up for her errors quite nicely, and she is extremely practical in most instances …”

  Rafael ignored his sister’s breathless blatherings in defense of her friend and schoolmate and ran as fast as he could, directing his thoughts to Annie. Hold on, you little fool. Just hold on!

  His bodyguard and childhood friend, Edmund Barrett, reached the stairs at the same moment as Rafael. It was plain from the consternation in the other man’s normally taciturn face that he had either been advised of Miss Trevarren’s predicament or had seen it for himself.

  “Let me handle this, Your Highness—” he began. Barrett tended to address Rafael formally in any emergency.

  Rafael shook his head and pushed past Barrett to mount the spiral steps. He was still the master of St. James Keep, however tenuous his hold on the rest of the country might be, and thus responsible for the safety of those within its ancient walls. Not to mention, the young woman’s parents, Patrick and Charlotte Trevarren, were among his most valued friends. What would he say to them if Annie fell to her death—that they still had four daughters left and shouldn’t trouble themselves over the loss of the eldest? The little minx was a guest in his house—had been for a week—and it was his responsibility to look after her.

  The door at the top of the staircase was open, of course, and Rafael stepped cautiously over the threshold. Annie stood several yards away, on the other side of a gap in the parapet, embracing the gargoyle with both arms. Her red-gold hair tumbled down her back and curled in the moist air.

  “Don’t worry, Annie!” Phaedra called, from just behind the prince’s right shoulder. “Rafael will save you!”

  “Be quiet and stay back,” Rafael hissed, assessing the state of the parapet itself. The rain, smelling of settled dust, cooled his skin. To Annie he said, “Don’t move.”

  Apparently, St. Aspasia’s Academy for Young Women of Quality, where both Annie and Phaedra had spent the past few years learning manners and deportment, had served at least some part of its purpose. Even in that dire situation—and it was dire, for the girl was standing on loose pebbles and very little else—she smiled bravely and nodded, though she was pale and trembling.

  “I won’t,” she promised, in a stoic tone.

  Rafael indulged a perverse desire to look down. The brick floor of the courtyard seemed to spin in the gathering dusk and a number of spectators had congregated, their torches making spots of fire. He closed his eyes for a moment and offered a silent prayer to a God who had long since abandoned him, then eased out onto the ledge.

  Some of the stone fell away beneath his feet, and he leaned back against the moss-slickened wall, arms spread wide, breathing deeply. Should the Trevarren chit be fortunate enough to survive this folly, he reflected, he might well murder her himself.

  “Do be careful,” Annie counseled, as though he were the one who needed rescuing.

  Rafael felt color surge up his neck and pulse along his jawline as he moved closer to her, ever so slowly, progressing by inches, and fractions of inches. “I wasn’t planning to hang by my feet or do handstands, Miss Trevarren,” he replied reasonably. This was no time, or place, after all, to lose his temper. If they were both lucky, he would have that luxury later.

  Once Rafael got her inside, he vowed to himself, he’d deliver a lecture this little hellion would never forget. After that, he might just throw her into the dungeon or hang her up by her thumbs.

  He reached Annie’s side on the strength of these fantasies and slipped one arm around her waist. “All right, Miss Trevarren,” he said quietly, with a calmness he didn’t feel. “Release your hold on the masonry, if you will, and we’ll start back. It’s going to be a slow process, though—no sudden moves, or we’ll both be splattered on the stones of the courtyard. Understood?”

  Remarkably, he felt her bristle, ever so slightly, against his rib cage. “Believe me, Your Highness,” she said with stiff dignity, “your instructions were quite clear.”

  Rafael risked a step, holding his breath, rejoicing inwardly when the parapet held. He muttered something meaningless, even to himself, and they progressed another step. Tiny bits of rock clattered down the tower wall, then tumbled soundlessly through space. The mist had turned to hard rain, soaking Annie’s clothes and hair, extinguishing the torches below, and making the stones of the narrow walkway slippery as well as unstable.

  Rafael stole a sidelong glance at Annie and saw that she was holding back tears, and that knowledge stung him out of all proportion to good sense. Miss Trevarren might have been foolhardy, but he secretly admired her boldness and courage.

  “You’ll be all right,” Rafael said, in a gentler tone than he’d used before.

  Annie snuffled. Like him, she pressed her back to the wall of the tower, one arm out wide for balance. They were a few inches nearer the door. “I was just thinking of my new yellow dress,” she told him seriously. “It will be a shame if I never get to wear it. One must take joy in small things, you know.”

  For one rash moment, Rafael considered pushing her over the edge and being through with the matter. “That would be among my lesser concerns,” he said tautly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Barrett was in the doorway, holding a coiled rope.

&n
bsp; “Only because you probably don’t own a yellow dress,” Annie replied, in a tone that somehow made the nonsensical sound rational.

  Rafael felt a muscle twitch in his right cheek. The rope snaked out toward him, and he caught the end in his free hand, nearly losing his balance in the endeavor. “Yellow has never been my color,” he answered dryly, and at great length. “Here. We’ll tie this around your waist. If you fall while stepping across that chasm in the parapet, and you well might, don’t panic and start screaming and flailing about. Barrett is more than capable of holding on and hauling you to safety.”

  Annie’s eyes widened in her pale face, and for the first time, Rafael noticed that they were a very dark blue, the color of india ink. “What about you?”

  He permitted himself a heartfelt sigh. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he fell; it would save the rebels the trouble of capturing, trying and finally hanging him, not to mention sparing the people of Bavia a long and costly civil war.

  Tightening the rope around her middle and testing the knot as best he could, Rafael replied, “Indeed, Miss Trevarren—what about me?”

  “Ready?” Barrett called, through the thickening twilight.

  “Yes,” Rafael replied, looking down into Annie’s upturned, rain-beaded face. In the next instant, before he could think about it too much, he maneuvered her around him.

  She shrieked as a chunk of the parapet gave way and she fell, kicking wildly and clinging to the rope with both hands as she swayed, like a human pendulum, high above the main courtyard.

  Rafael’s breath burned in his throat and scalded his chest as he watched her. His own purchase was slipping; he could feel the walkway all but dissolving under the soles of his boots. Horrific images flooded his mind—he saw the rope breaking, saw the Trevarren girl plummeting through space, heard her strike the stones below with such vivid clarity that bile surged into the back of his throat.

  After that, the pictures became more confused; in an instant, he was back in the palace in Morovia, standing in the receiving line again, with his beloved Georgiana at his side, reliving the events of that night eighteen months before. His father, the last prince of Bavia, had been dead only a few weeks, and Rafael had just returned to the country after some twelve years of exile in England.

  The scene unfolded quickly in his mind.

  The stranger approached Rafael, the new and untested ruler and, before anyone could stop him, drew a small pistol from the pocket of his evening coat and aimed it at the prince’s chest.