Princess Charming (Legendary Lovers 1)

Annoyance speared through him. Although he considered balls the most boring of entertainments, he had spared no expense for Katharine’s grand evening. He would do anything for his family. Yet he disliked being duped, even by his endearing spitfire of a sister.

“Did you ever intend to search for a husband as you claimed?” Ash demanded.

Katharine smiled sweetly. “Well, yes, some day I will. Just not at this precise moment. I am more concerned about rescuing Maura. She is far too proud to ask for help, and arranging a ball was the best I could do on short notice.”

His audibly muttered oath held irritation but also a telltale hint of exasperated amusement.

Surprisingly, though, Kate’s expression turned intent to the point of graveness. “You must help her, Ash.”

He raised a hand. “Oh, no, sweetheart, you won’t fish me into your intrigues. I’ve done my duty by hosting your damned ball.”

“But I need you. Maura needs you. You cannot say no until you hear me out. Please.…”

Just then the music began anew, and Katharine turned away to join her partner while calling over her shoulder, “I will explain everything later in the library, Ash, I promise.”

“Yes, you will, dear sister,” he said under his breath as his troublesome youngest sibling fled his proximity for the relative safety of the ballroom floor.

Admittedly, Ash’s curiosity was piqued, however.

At the conclusion of the ball, when the last of the carriages had rumbled away from his Grosvenor Square mansion, and his household staff had begun clearing the remnants of the late supper and extinguishing the flames in the crystal chandeliers overhead, Ash escorted a cheerfully secretive Katharine to the library.

It was three o’clock in the morning, and not surprisingly, they found their Uncle Cornelius in his favorite haunt, slumped in a stuffed-leather armchair near the hearth fire, sound asleep and snoring softly, his spectacles sliding down his nose. The elderly gentleman loathed social gatherings, especially balls, and always hid in the library as soon as he could politely escape.

The other Wilde family members were waiting with various degrees of anticipation. Skye, with her deep blue eyes and pale gold hair, looked bright and fresh as a rose, as if she hadn’t just spent the entire night wearing out her dancing slippers.

Her elder brother Quinn, the Earl of Traherne, was also blue-eyed and fair-haired, but of a darker gold hue. Quinn’s appearance of a bored, jaded aristocrat was highly deceptive, since in addition to being the most adventurous of the five cousins, he had the sharpest mind and a wicked wit that could slice opponents to ribbons.

Currently Quinn lounged in an armchair, looking slightly amused but willing to tolerate a family gathering for curiosity’s sake, if nothing else.

Lord Jack Wilde, Ash’s raven-haired first cousin and adopted brother—who was not quite thirty years of age—was sprawled irreverently on the sofa, his eyes closed.

Without opening his eyes, Jack spoke upon their entrance. “Do edify us, Kate. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait till morning? You are interfering with my beauty sleep.”

She laughed lightly. “Pardon me for disturbing your rest, but we have a crucial situation at hand.”

Bestirring himself to sit up, Jack swung his long legs over the edge of the sofa. “Very well, but pray, make it fast. I have a curricle race early tomorrow.… In less than five hours, in fact.”

With a glance at the sleeping Lord Cornelius, Katharine moved over to the large library table where they’d held many a Wilde family conference in the years since their parents’ tragic demise. Ash sat at one end, at the head of the table, Quinn at the other, with Kate and Skye between them. Jack joined the council but declined a chair, instead resting one hip on the tabletop itself, facing Katharine.

All the Wilde cousins regularly came to London each Season, but they were not often together as a family anymore. Katharine still resided with Ash and their Uncle Cornelius, either at the London house in Grosvenor Square or the magnificent Beaufort family seat in Kent. Jack had his own house nearby in town, since as a bachelor he’d wanted his own abode so he could come and go as he pleased. And Quinn and Skye resided together at the Traherne mansion in Berkeley Square when they weren’t at their palatial country manor in Kent.

Both noble estates were situated some forty miles east of London, within an easy drive of each other. Being raised in the same district had fostered a tight-knit kinship that was unusual among distant cousins, even before their households had been combined under Lord Cornelius’s guardianship.

“So what is afoot?” Ash asked, breaking the silence.

Katharine clasped her fingers together, looking uncharacteristically hesitant all of a sudden. “You may be wondering why I called you together.…”

Quinn gave a chuckle. “Out with it, love. You are trying our patience.”

“Very well. I suppose I should start by reminding you of our family lore. You know that we Wildes only marry for love—”

“What does it matter, why we marry?” Jack interrupted.

Katharine frowned at him. “I will tell you if you give me the chance.”

Guessing where the conversation was headed, Ash hid a wince. In the past dozen years, Kate’s romantic notions had been a source of both amusement and discomfort for the family, particularly him, since he was often the target of her matchmaking. But he’d learned to deflect her schemes, so he was prepared to indulge her now.

Clearing her throat, she continued. “According to family legend, we Wildes never lose our hearts readily, but when we find our one true mate, we love passionately and for life. Quite a number of our ancestors were celebrated lovers, including all of our parents. But none of us has found true love yet.”