Burning for Love (Kindred Tales)

But it wasn’t the male’s style of dress that caught James’s eye—it was the smirking way he addressed the Princess as he bowed and asked for her hand. James also didn’t miss the look of distaste that flitted briefly over Ka’rissa’s pretty face before she nodded and allowed the male to lead her to the dance floor.

Frowning, he watched carefully as they spun around and around, the male holding Ka’rissa much closer than the other dancers were holding each other, at least in his estimation. She didn’t look comfortable in the male’s arms, he thought, studying how stiffly she held herself. But she kept her chin high and danced regally, a tight smile fixed on her face the entire time.

Though she appeared to be safe—if rather uncomfortable—James felt the urge to go and take her away from the other male. He shouldn’t be holding her so tightly, damn it! And he didn’t like the sight of her in another male’s arms.

Suddenly he realized what he was thinking—was he actually getting possessive of the little female? And why did he not like the sight of her with another male? Was this what the humans called “jealousy?”

Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not jealous. You’re just concerned for her safety, that’s all, he told himself uneasily. You’re not having emotions—you’re doing your job!

But still, he had to clench his hands into fists and force himself not to go and take the Princess away from the other male.

The strange sensations—James refused to call them emotions—made watching Ka’rissa dance extremely difficult, but there was nothing he could do but endure them as she spun around and around the dance floor.

8

Rissa was finding the second dance to be extremely difficult. That was probably because her dance partner was none other than Lord Grabbington, the Duke of Elersham.

“Ah, my dear Princess,” he had purred, when he first approached her, making a sweeping bow. “How good it is to see you again! Might I have this dance?”

Rissa had smiled tightly, wishing that anyone else at all in the whole ballroom might have asked for her hand. But there was no helping it—she was stuck.

“Indeed, Sir, I would be most honored,” she’d replied woodenly. And then the Duke had taken her in his arms—much too tightly—and pulled her into the dance.

“You’re looking lovely tonight, if I may say so, my dear,” he’d murmured in her ear, his breath redolent of sickly-sweet Port and wet cigarillos. “And you’re shining so brightly too.” He had nodded down at her breasts, where the lights from her glowing points were visible through her white gown.

Rissa didn’t know what to say to such a blatant statement, so she remained silent. This hadn’t stopped the Duke from continuing the conversation himself, however.

“I read in the latest issue of Lady TittleTattle’s Breadcrumbs that your Heat Cycle is becoming quite advanced,” he remarked, grinning at her. “I dare say the old Steward must be looking for the right suitor for you, then?”

“Indeed, Sir, I believe he is,” Rissa answered woodenly. How rude of him to remark on her Heat Cycle, she thought indignantly! Something which ought to remain private.

“Then it seems I have come back into town at just the right time,” Duke Grabbington said, smirking at her. “As your lovely hand is now finally available to be won.”

Rissa had to suppress a shudder at the thought of having the Duke as her future husband—not that she thought it was truly a possibility. Surely the Steward wouldn’t even consider giving her to such a man!

Duke Grabbington didn’t have the best reputation. Not that it mattered in everyday life, since he was a man and could do whatever he liked, she thought resentfully. But surely his dreadful ways would count against him if he wished to court the future Queen. Why, it was rumored that none of the maids wished to wait on him at night because of the way he came after them. Also, he had been paying court to Prunella Ascott just before she was mysteriously taken ill and had to leave Court, never to return again. The rumor was that she was now ruined.

Poor Prunella hadn’t been very pretty, but she did have a rather large inheritance of fifty thousand. Lady TittleTattle’s Breadcrumbs had speculated that the Duke—who was known to be a degenerate gambler—had been interested in her for exactly that reason. But shortly after that particular issue of the Crumbs had come out, Prunella had removed to the country and never returned.

Rissa still wondered what had happened to the hapless girl. Had Duke Grabbington kissed her and put a baby in her? But the thought didn’t bear thinking of, especially as she looked at his moist, red lips under those drooping mustaches. They hung from either side of his mouth right down to his chin, like limp, furry tails.