Page 36 of In the Prince's Bed
She’s my poetry, my song
My sighs of woe she turns to grace
And in her smiles I find my will,
For hope lies in her lovely face.
Why must the man be a halfway-decent poet? Even Alec, who only enjoyed the kind of verse sung by drunk cavalrymen in taverns, could tell that Sydney’s talent exceeded that of most amateurs.
Annoyed, Alec glanced over to find that hope did indeed lie in “her lovely face.” She hoped that Sydney, not Alec, might care for her, might marry her…might love her. As Alec watched, a tear rolled unheeded down her cheek.
Jealousy struck him then, so powerfully he could no longer deny it. Finally, Alec understood what she saw in Lovelace. The man’s facility with words drew her as surely as an army officer’s masculine skill with a sword drew other women. She might let Alec caress her hand, but it was Lovelace she listened to and Lovelace she admired. God rot the man, it was Lovelace she wanted.
Lovelace finished the poem, and for a second silence hung in the air, rich with the wonder of a crowd enraptured. Then enthusiastic applause broke over them. Several leaped to their feet—Katherine among them—and as Alec rose grudgingly beside her, he watched Lovelace’s reaction to the thundering applause, hoping for an arrogant glance to tarnish the man’s character.
All he got was Lovelace’s hesitant smile, as if he were pleasantly surprised by the effect of his words on his listeners. Scanning the crowd until he found Katherine, Lovelace beamed at her like a boy basking in the approval of his tutor.
That’s when it hit Alec.
The poem’s title was “The Muse,” not “The Lover” or even “The Betrothed.” Sydney wanted someone who would inspire his creations and praise his talent, someone who “understood the delicate dance/Between the pen and the poet’s trance,” as one of his lines read.
Alec’s mood lightened. Lovelace didn’t want the warm-blooded Katherine who yearned to be kissed and touched and desired. He wanted to keep her frozen on his pedestal, and that could never suit her.
She’s my poetry, my song.
Ruthlessly, Alec thrust the blasted line from his head. She wouldnotbe Lovelace’s “poetry.” She wanted something better than that—excitement and passion, as well as companionship. And only Alec could givethatto her, thank God.
The applause faded into chatter now that the reading was over. Ladies gathered their shawls and reticules, and men stuffed their programs into coat pockets. A few people converged on the dais to speak to the poets milling there.
Katherine rose without looking at him. “I’ll be right back. I want to congratulate Sydney. It won’t take me long.” She hurried to the end of the row. But instead of going to the front, she swept through the doors bordering the auditorium, clearly headed for wherever the poets congregated after the reading.
Alec stood there flummoxed. Should he let her have her few minutes alone with Lovelace?
She’s my poetry, my song.
Alec’s eyes narrowed. Not a chance.
Stuffing his gloves in his coat pocket, he pushed through the crowds until he emerged into the less choked hall adjoining the other assembly rooms. Within moments, he spotted her. Since she moved against the flow, she hadn’t gone far in her steady press toward the upper end of the hall. Toward Sydney, blast her.
“Miss Merivale, wait!” he called out.
By some miracle, she heard him and halted. As he approached, color rose in her cheeks, but at least she didn’t run. She even waited for him, eyes flashing.
“What is it, Lord Iversley?” she asked primly, as he reached her.
Only then did he realize he’d come after her with no plan whatsoever. A thousand comments rose to his lips.Sydney is an ass…You deserve better…I want you, and he only admires you.
But he wasn’t skilled at pretty words like her poet suitor. His skills lay elsewhere. He glanced over at the open doorways leading to empty assembly rooms. “This way,” he said, taking her arm and tugging her across the now-thinning flow of traffic into the nearest room.
Thank God she went willingly. But as soon as he closed the door, she set her shoulders. “What do you want? I told you I’d only be a moment.”
“I’ve held up my end of the bargain. Now you owe me my reward.”
As awareness dawned, she swallowed visibly. “Why here? Why now?”
Because I want to banish Sydney from your thoughts.“Whynothere and now?” he countered, striding up to haul her into his arms.
She shot him her best imploring look. “Please, Alec—”
