The Royal Gamble

By Anna DeForest

Fleeing her beloved country while her brother fights their cruel cousin to claim the throne of Valdavia, Princess Sophia Eugenie Tamaroff flees to New York City without money or protection. Forced to work as a parlor maid, she soon discovers she is dangerously attracted to her ruggedly handsome, enigmatic employer.

Jared Grayson, former U.S. Marshal and current cattle baron, knows his beautiful new maid is lying about her past. Determined to uncover her secrets and get to know the real Sophia, he offers her the job as the housekeeper for his Diamond J ranch on the plains of eastern Colorado. Longing to see the American frontier, Sophia accepts, little guessing the risk she is taking with both her secrets and her heart.

Reviews:
"Ms. DeForest builds her characters like a master craftsman. From the first sentence she ensnared me. Ms. DeForest knows how to entertain." Rendezvous
"I found her writing as sparkling and vivacious as her characters. Splendid!" Bell, Book and Candle
"THE ROYAL GAMBLE is a breathtakingly romantic and sensual western fairytale... Anna DeForest tells a story which will stay in your heart and mind long after you have finished reading it." Angie Ray, RITA winner

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anna DeForest
• Release date: Nov 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734788983

Anna DeForest

About the AuthorAnna DeForest wrote her first book-length piece of fiction in fifth grade. She taught history at the Colorado Heritage Center and a Denver private school. She was thrilled when Leisure Books bought her first historical romance, Golden Dreams. She was actually watching Sesame Street with her four-year-old when she received the good news call from her agent, but she managed to tear herself away from Big Bird long enough to listen to the terms of her new contract.Growing up in Colorado gave Anna a lifelong taste for outdoor activities such as hiking, riding and skiing. She also enjoys gardening, which is currently quite a challenge because armadillos keep rooting around in her garden in Dallas.Anna has always tried to write the kind of romances she likes to read—stories about warm, caring people who pursue their lives and loves with passion. These days, Anna is excited about offering four of her previously published romances to her new readers, along with three romances that have never been published before.You can learn more about Anna and her books at www.annadeforest.com.

Book preview

Chapter One

February 24, 1875

Ladenberg, Valdavia

Trumpet music pealed forth from the gallery above the great hall. Another trembling debutante started forward to be presented to the king and his sister. Poor Manfred and his trumpeters were going to have dry mouths before this ceremony was over. Princess Sophia Eugenie Tamaroff glanced away from the gallery and sighed. It could easily be another two hours before the presentations finished. Sitting perfectly upright, she ignored the growing ache in her lower back and fought down the urge to drum her fingers on the gilded arm of her throne.

The courtiers clustered below the dais would never have guessed from her serene expression that their lovely, golden-haired princess was fighting a severe case of the fidgets. She longed to snatch off her uncomfortable tiara and stride away from her hard throne. Because she had been trained since she was a small child to endure such long public appearances, Sophia remained seated and tried not to think about all of the things that she’d rather be doing right now—like reading a good book or galloping her Lipizzaner mare around the royal stadium.

When the white-faced debutante finally reached the base of the royal dais, her beaming father recited his formal introduction. Sophia forced herself to focus on the terrified young woman before her. Her brother King Rupert always found something flattering to say to the pretty debutantes, but he couldn’t be bothered with the plain ones. Because today would become a memory these young women would treasure their entire lives, Sophia did her best to find something complimentary to say to each.

The father had finished speaking now. Rupert looked bored and impatient. Clearly he wasn’t going to trouble himself to say anything. Why would he? Sophia thought bitterly. Lady Treben has lovely eyes, but her nose is a trifle large and her jaw too square for beauty.

Baron Treben, Sophia said before they could notice her brother’s cruel silence, your daughter Caroline possesses the most remarkable blue eyes. They remind me of our Valdavian sky on a summer day. I am sure she will enjoy a fine season here in the capital.

The young woman gazed back in rapturous gratitude while her father stuttered out his thanks. There. That wasn’t the most original compliment in the world, but it made them happy, Sophia decided with satisfaction. As soon as the baron led his daughter away, the trumpets blared again and the next debutante started up the aisle. Sophia took a deep breath and wiggled her toes furiously in her white slippers. Her mother had taught her that trick a long time ago. They were the only part of her body she could allow to fidget without anyone knowing.

Sophia glanced out over the assembled court. A shiver traced its way down her back when she spotted her cousin Count Alexander Drovodar. He was staring at her boldly, such a possessive gleam in his pale blue eyes that she longed to throw one of her satin slippers at him. A tall, lean man with a soldier’s build, Alexander had black hair and a cold, patrician face. Many women at court thought him handsome, despite the scar a saber cut had left below his right cheekbone. Back when she was young and foolish, she had thought him the most dashing, handsome man in the world.

She clenched her hands in her lap when she saw Chancellor Helgard approach her cousin. Alexander had been making powerful friends at court this past year. Rupert was a blind idiot to ignore the danger Alexander posed to his rule.

Sophia looked away from her ambitious cousin and concentrated on the next debutante. At least this tedious presentation ceremony postponed the moment when she would have to dance with him.

An endless two hours later, the steady stream of young women and their proud fathers came to an end. As the king rose to his feet, a hush fell over the great hall. Who would have the honor of being his partner for the first dance of the evening? Sophia was hardly surprised when her brother came to stand before Fraulein Fabia Molhaussen. With her full figure and dramatic looks, the young woman was just the sort to appeal to Rupert’s tastes. After the king led his partner to the center of the hall, the orchestra struck up the strains to a Viennese waltz.

Suddenly a stir of movement near the base of the dais caught Sophia’s eye. The crowd of courtiers parted respectfully, too respectfully for Sophia’s comfort, to allow Alexander Drovodar to make his way to her throne. For the benefit of the crowd, Sophia smiled coolly as Alexander bowed before her.

Will you dance with me, cousin? he asked, somehow making the simple request sound suggestive.

Sophia repressed a grimace of distaste as she rose to her feet. No matter how much she loathed the notion of dancing with him, she could not reject his invitation. Alexander and his faction had grown too strong to alienate openly. As he reached out and took her hand, her stomach twisted. Thanks heavens they both wore gloves.

She allowed him to lead her to the center of the hall where Rupert and an ecstatic Fraulein Molhaussen still waltzed. Alexander pulled Sophia into his arms. Although she was keenly aware of the familiar way he squeezed her waist, she made sure her face showed none of the indignation that she was feeling.

I still cannot believe the plump little princess I left behind when I was a young man turned into such a glorious beauty, he said as his eyes devoured her.

And I still cannot forget the reason why you left, she retorted. She smiled to herself when she felt his hand tighten on her own.

Alexander had been exiled from court because of her. After promising her his undying love, she found him raping a kitchen girl. Brokenhearted and disillusioned, Sophia had gone to her father, and King Frederick had promptly banished Alexander from the country. Alexander had returned to Valdavia two years ago after the train accident which had claimed King Frederick and Queen Katherine’s lives.

Briefly Sophia closed her eyes against the pain. How she still missed her parents. They would have made an evening like tonight bearable with their humor and their love.

I do not forget the role you played in my banishment, either, Alexander said, a world of menace in his tone, nor have I forgotten the day you were so unwise as to reject my offer of marriage. His pale eyes glittered as he spoke. My dear cousin, I promise that you shall regret that decision one day soon.

You dare threaten me? She raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

I dare anything I please, my darling Sophia, and you would do well to remember that.

Rupert is a fool to trust you. Because of your influence, he’s rescinded every enlightened reform my father shepherded through the Landstaadt. Peaceful, quiet Valdavia is now a powder keg thanks to your machinations.

Ah, but a country in ferment is so exciting. Valdavia was such a calm, placid, backward sort of place under your father’s rule.

The people were happy under his rule, and they could have been well-treated under Rupert’s as well if you hadn’t led him into such autocratic folly. Sophia allowed her defiance and disdain to show in her eyes.

Whoever would have guessed such fire rages inside our ice princess? Alexander mocked her. I look forward to getting to know you much better during the years we have ahead of us, cousin dear. He smoothed his hand over her shoulder. Sophia longed to slap his face.

I doubt we will be spending much time together in the years ahead, for the more I see of you, cousin dear, Sophia mimicked his drawling tone, the more you revolt me.

His face tightened at her insult, and he pulled her closer to him. Just then the music drew to a close. Afraid she might have pushed him too far, Sophia tried to step back, but his grip was like iron. Before Alexander could whirl her away for another waltz, her younger brother Prince Michael appeared, resplendent in his scarlet military uniform.

I believe you promised me this dance, fair sister, Michael said in a carrying voice and then bowed before her.

I did indeed. Thank you for the dance, Cousin Alexander. As always, I found your conversation… enlightening.

Reluctantly, Alexander let go of her and stepped away. As the orchestra began to play one of her favorite waltzes, she and Michael began to circle the floor.

I know I didn’t promise you this dance, but I was delighted by your invitation just the same. Your timing was perfect, she said with feeling.

I’m learning that timing and tactics can be everything in battle, he said cheerfully as he swung her past a glowering Alexander.

I’m glad you can put your military lessons to such practical use, she said with a laugh. As she gazed at her brother, her heart twisted. He grew more like their father every day. They both had their mother’s fair hair and deep blue eyes, but his strong, striking features were pure Tamaroff.

I don’t like the way that cur looks at you, Michael said under his breath.

I don’t much care for it either, but I can’t see that he is doing me much harm, Sophia forced herself to say lightly.

If he gives me the slightest excuse, I will call him out, Michael declared.

The very notion of Michael fighting Alexander Drovodar made Sophia’s blood run cold. Their cousin was known to be a master swordsman and an excellent shot.

Tell me all about life in your regiment, she said, hoping to distract him. Is General Rothberg keeping you busy?

Michael’s eyes brightened, and he promptly began regaling her with humorous stories of his life as a young officer in the Valdavian army. Even though she envied him his freedom, she was happy Michael had found such a good outlet for his energy and intelligence.

All too soon Sophia’s dance with Michael ended. After that, duty dictated that she had to dance with a series of older noblemen and diplomats. During the few precious times she managed to sit and rest her aching feet, she watched the blushing young debutantes wistfully. At least they might have some say in whom they married. Enraged that she had turned down Alexander’s proposal two months ago, Rupert had sworn to marry her off to the oldest, most repulsive European prince he could find.

You’ve always known a state marriage was your fate, she reminded herself sternly. But Papa would have found you a kind prince you could respect. Rupert will do just the opposite out of spite.

Finally Rupert left the great hall with a glowing Fabia on his arm, which meant the rest of the royal family could retire. Escorted by her ladies-in-waiting, Sophia made her footsore, weary way to her own quarters in the west wing of the palace.

There she found dear Frieda dozing in a chair by the fire. Sophia dismissed her ladies-in-waiting and gazed fondly at the slim old woman who had been her personal maid since she was a little girl. Frieda’s grey hair was pinned across the top of her head in a neat braid, and her uniform still looked freshly pressed.

Sophia tiptoed to her dressing table to take her hair down. The rustle of her skirts and train woke Frieda from her light sleep. Hurriedly, she rose from the chair and began undoing the endless fastenings on Sophia’s gown.

Why must you always wait up? Sophia chided her gently. You know one of the younger maids could look after me well enough on these late nights.

As if I’d trust those flighty young things to look after you, Frieda said with a sniff. Usually the old woman wanted to know all about Sophia’s evening. Tonight, however, she seemed to sense her princess’s unhappy mood. While she unpinned Sophia’s hair, Sophia caught her watching her with sympathy in her cornflower blue eyes.

Perhaps you should ask the king to let you take a trip, Frieda suggested.

Rupert would never allow it, Sophia said with a sigh. When her parents had been alive, they had taken her on their travels around Valdavia and Europe. But since Rupert had ascended the throne, she had rarely been allowed to leave Ladenberg.

That’s probably why I feel so restless. She tried to fill her meaningless days doing what she could to improve her country’s hospitals, orphanages, and universities. Her efforts had won her people’s affection, but when she felt so caged and trapped, even that knowledge gave her little comfort.

After Frieda finished with her hair, Sophia climbed up into her bed. Frieda turned down the lamps and slipped away. As Sophia stared up at the blue brocade canopy over her head, one hot tear slipped down her cheek. Your life could be worse. You could be starving. You could have to labor from dawn to dusk in the fields. You could have to live in filth and poverty.

Yet a treacherous part of her wondered if she could be any wearier than she felt right now after a long day of performing her royal duties. At least when her long day of labor ended, a peasant girl could go home to a man she loved. Aching with loneliness, Sophia buried her face in her pillow. At last she fell into a troubled sleep.

Your Highness, something is terribly wrong!

Sophia opened her eyes to find Frieda frantically shaking her shoulder. There’s fighting throughout the palace, the old servant hurried on. I just heard shots fired over in the east wing.

Sophia sat bolt upright, trying to force the sleep from her mind. Merciful God, has Rupert brought the revolution I feared down upon our heads? Struggling to stay calm, she reached over to her bedside table and drew a pistol from its drawer.

I need to get dressed, and quickly. Then we must find Michael.

Frieda had just finished buttoning up the back of Sophia’s travel dress when the door to the chamber burst open. Sophia cursed herself for her carelessness. She had left her loaded pistol lying in the midst of her bedclothes, too far away to be of any use to her now.

Alexander Drovodar stood on the threshold with two armed guardsmen dressed in royal livery at his back. He wore a dark cape over his formal evening clothes, and he had a pistol shoved in his black cummerbund next to his dress sword. There was an exultant light in his pale blue eyes which made her shudder.

How dare you enter my bedchamber? She hoped her voice sounded coldly furious.

There is no place in this castle that the new ruler of Valdavia may not go. I am here to inform you that your brother Rupert just died in a tragic shooting accident. And you, my dear, are about to become my bride.

Chapter Two

New York City

April 18, 1875

Jared Grayson stepped out of the garment factory and drew in a deep breath. It was a measure of how foul the ventilation was inside that place that the coal-dust filled, sewage-tainted air of the lower East Side seemed fresh compared to what he’d just been breathing. Tugging at his stiff collar, he strode away from the grimy building he now owned, thanks to the recent demise of Elijah Grayson, his father.

How could those women possibly bear to work hour after hour, hunched over their sewing machines in such poor light, breathing such terrible air? Because they have no choice. Grimly Jared faced the harsh truth. If he shut the factory down as he longed to do, those women would face starvation. Eventually the lucky ones would find work in another factory with equally squalid conditions.

Shutting down this factory and the other five he’d inherited would be the easiest course, but he’d never been one to take the easy way. He would have to hire six factory managers, men he could trust to fix the buildings and pay the women decent wages. These factories were only part of Elijah Grayson’s business empire. Jared had months of work ahead sorting out his father’s affairs—work that would keep him chained here in this benighted city when all he wanted to do was return to his ranches out West.

Just then he heard a female cry out in fear and anger, and he glanced across the street. A young woman dressed in widow’s weeds was surrounded by a gang of street toughs. They were trying to steal her purse, and she was either too foolish or too desperate to give it to them. Of course, there wasn’t a policeman in sight.

Cursing under his breath, he sprinted across the street. By the time he reached her, three of the men had the widow backed against a wall while the fourth struggled to wrest the strings of her reticule from her wrist. Just as the thug raised his fist to hit her, Jared growled, You don’t want to do that.

Startled, the tough spun around to face him. The surprised look on his weaselly face turned into a sneer. You should’ve minded your own business, guv’ner. Now we’ll have your wallet, too.

No, you won’t. You best hightail it out of here before the coppers pinch you.

Ain’t no coppers walkin’ this beat. A swell like you prob’ly carrying plenty of blunt. Hand it over, and we won’t beat you to a pulp.

You boys aren’t taking a penny off me.

They were starting to get uneasy now. His confidence shook them. On keelboats along the Mississippi and a dozen rough cow towns he’d learned the hard way how to fight. He had a six-shooter in his coat pocket for back up, but he’d just as soon not shoot anyone today.

Weasel-face glanced up and down the street. The longer this confrontation lasted, the better the chance a passerby would go fetch a policeman. Take him, boys.

He had barely finished speaking when Jared threw the first punch. He dropped Weasel-face with an uppercut to his jaw. Then he spun about and buried his fist in the belly of the biggest of the remaining three and smashed his knee into his face when the tough doubled over. The other two joined the mill enthusiastically. Jared caught a blow to the side of his face which made his head ring. He was just beginning to wonder if he’d tackled more than he could handle when the fourth hoodlum cursed suddenly. Holding his head, he stumbled to his knees.

The widow stood behind him, a good-sized piece of paving stone still clenched in her hands. Jared grinned. He didn’t mind her helping to even the odds. The third man, a hulking brute with a broken nose and a cauliflower ear, proved to be a better fighter than the rest. He and Jared traded a series of punches, grunting and straining until the fourth thug lurched back to his feet. Cursing, the brute turned on the widow.

Jared stepped back and pulled the gun from his pocket. It was time to end this before anyone truly got hurt.

You touch the lady, and I’ll drill your belly full of holes.

After the men got a good look at his six-shooter, the gang hurried off cursing loudly. He waited until he was sure they were gone before he put the gun back into his pocket. Carrying guns was against the law in New York, but he’d slipped his six-shooter into his pocket this morning because his father’s attorney had warned him that the area around the garment factory was infested with hoodlums. You keep trusting your instincts, amigo. They helped keep you alive out in Colorado, and they’ll most likely keep your skin in one piece here.

He turned to look at the widow. She leaned with her back against the wall, her breath coming in ragged pants as she rubbed her wrist. For the first time, he saw her face clearly. With a deep, visceral kind of shock, he realized that she was one of the loveliest women he’d ever seen.

She was younger than he expected, perhaps in her early twenties, and her pale skin was flawless. High, slavic cheekbones gave her face an elegant and foreign look. Fair, arching brows framed striking deep blue eyes—eyes that right now gleamed with fury and unshed tears. Her lips were full and beautifully shaped. They appeared remarkably red against the pallor of her skin. He caught a glimpse of golden hair beneath her shabby black bonnet.

When he realized that he was staring, he leaned over and picked up his hat. Then he gestured to the paving stone she had used to clobber the fourth thief. Thanks for the help.

She stepped away from the wall and straightened her shoulders. I must thank you, sir, for coming to my aid. Her voice was low and musical, with a trace of a Germanic accent. He decided on the spot that he liked both her voice and her accent immensely.

You’re welcome. Are you all right?

She glanced down at herself, as if unsure of the answer to that question. He guessed the whole ugly incident must have shaken her more than she was letting on. I am fine, she said firmly.

Well, then, if you don’t mind my offering you some advice—if you run into a gang of thugs like that again, you should just hand over your valuables. They could have hurt you.

He saw a flash of temper in her remarkable eyes. That is easy for you to say. If I had lost our rent money, my aunt and I would have been out on the street facing men like them during the night as well as the day.

Her diction was precise, her English excellent. The dress she wore looked worn, but the material in it had been fine at one time. She held herself perfectly erect, positively radiating pride and breeding. Sensing a mystery here, Jared gave in to his curiosity.

What is a woman like you doing in such a rough part of town?

She sent him a frosty look. Considering the fact he’d just risked getting his face beat in for her, he’d damn well ask her any question he wanted.

I am looking for work, she replied with great dignity.

Jared glanced up and down the dingy street. Surely you can do better than work in one of these sweatshops? The idea of her bent over a sewing machine for hours on end made him shudder.

As soon as we arrived in this country, my aunt and I tried to find work as domestics, but no one would hire us because we are foreigners and we have no references.

There was a world of frustration and injured pride in her cool tone. He doubted any housekeeper wanted to hire a woman with her kind of looks. Beautiful maids could cause trouble in a household. She could easily attract the attention of male servants, or even the master of the house. Jared loathed the way men of the upper classes preyed on their female help, but he knew only too well that it happened.

At the same time, working as a maid had to be easier and healthier than toiling in a sweatshop. Hadn’t his housekeeper Mrs. Pruitt said something just yesterday about needing to hire another upstairs maid? Usually he didn’t involve himself in the hiring of help at his New York home, but in this case, he might just have to make an exception. Despite the fact this woman was likely a widow, there was an innocence in her gaze that worried him. Hell, if she keeps wandering dangerous streets like this one looking for work, it’s just a matter of time before she lands herself in worse trouble.

While he debated with himself, the young widow was growing impatient. Clearly the impropriety of talking to a stranger on the street was beginning to weigh on her.

Again, thank you for your aid, sir. I will take no more of your time, she declared suddenly. I will be on my way now.

Jared’s lips twitched. Her ladyship certainly had a haughty way of saying things. That declaration had sounded suspiciously like a command. Something about the vulnerable set to her mouth, though, made him determined to help her.

I’d be happy to escort you safely to your destination, he offered.

Her blue eyes turned even cooler. Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.

Despite what you obviously think, I’m not planning to make improper advances, he said with some exasperation. My name is Jared Grayson, and I’m a mostly respectable rancher and businessman. I want to make certain you don’t meet up with those hoodlums again before you leave the lower East Side. I’ll walk you to a safer area where you can hail a cab, and then we’ll go our separate ways.

A flicker of amusement crossed her face as she studied him. You Americans and your plain way of speaking. Since there is no one here to introduce us properly, my name is Mrs. Reginald Bruner, and yes, you may escort me.

Now she was making him feel like she was doing him the favor. More intrigued by the moment, he gestured the way they needed to walk. We’re more apt to find cabs up on Broadway.

She fell into step beside him. He barely had to shorten his stride, for she was tall for a woman. The top of her head came to his shoulders, he noted with approval. He hated having to lean over to hear the quiet lispings of the short, refined, doll-like young ladies his mother threw at him every time he came east.

Aware that the young widow was sending him sideways glances, he looked straight ahead. He longed to ask her all about herself. What was her name, where was she from, and how long had she been in America?

Are you sure you weren’t hurt? she asked first, almost sounding diffident. I am afraid you’ll have quite a bruise on your face tomorrow.

He’d have a few on his ribcage, too. That big thug had a wicked left jab. Jared reached up and fingered the bump rising on the side of his cheek.

My horse gave me worse when a buffalo spooked him, he assured her with a grin.

I’m glad to hear those men didn’t really hurt you, she said and offered him a shy smile in return. Jared found himself staring at her again. She seems so much younger when she smiles, and much more approachable. Warning bells went off in the back of his mind. This lady was way too lovely for a man’s peace of mind.

Have you spent much time out West? she asked curiously.

With considerable effort, Jared focused on her question. I live out there most of the year. I only return to New York when I have to take care of family business.

I’ve read Lewis and Clark’s journals, and most of John C. Fremont’s as well, she said eagerly. Is the West truly as vast and wild as these men claim?

He ignored the tightening in his belly that the topic of reading always caused. He hadn’t read those journals, as much as their contents drew him. The distances are astounding, he admitted. Out west, it feels like you can see forever. From my ranch in Colorado, on a clear day I can see seventy miles to the Rocky Mountains. Up in their ranges, there are still plenty of places where men have never set foot. The West is free and clean and open—in contrast to this city, he added dryly as they walked by a particularly fetid pile of garbage.

His cheeks warmed after he realized that she was watching him with a small smile. When it came to the topic of the land beyond the Mississippi, he often got carried away.

It sounds so glorious. I have always wanted to see the Rocky Mountains and the Great Plains, she admitted wistfully.

Perhaps you’ll have a chance. Rail travel to the West is getting faster and cheaper all the time.

Perhaps, she said, but he could tell that she thought her chances of heading west were slim. He hoped she would have a chance to visit the mountains and plains she longed to see.

Bustling East Broadway lay just ahead of them now. As they approached the corner, another smile lit her features. She turned to him, her eyes dancing.

Is this not amazing? she gestured to the teaming thoroughfare. America is such an alive and vital place. New York has its cruel side, but there is so much hope and promise here, too.

I suppose that’s true, he agreed, hardly knowing what he said. When she smiled like that, she could bring a man to his knees. Swallowing hard, he stopped and reached into his pocket.

If you are serious about wanting work as a domestic, here’s my card. After a long moment, she took the card and held it gingerly between her fingers.

I keep a home on East 34th Street, he said quickly, ignoring the wary look in her eyes. My housekeeper informed me just yesterday that we need another upstairs maid. I’ll tell Mrs. Pruitt that you may be coming to interview for the position and that you have my recommendation for the post, references or no.

I do not understand why you would do such a thing for me, Mr. Grayson, she said, giving him a suspicious look.

Any woman who can keep her head during a fight the way you just did, Mrs. Bruner, can surely handle the work of an upstairs maid. Good day to you, ma’am. He tipped his hat to her and forced himself to walk away.

He wanted to stay and try to convince her to take the post, but something warned him that was the wrong approach. Despite her calm expression, the worry in her eyes made him think she’d already run into men who wanted to take advantage of a beautiful widow. Best to leave it at that, and hope she’d have the common sense to make the most of the opportunity he’d just given her.

As he strode up the street to hail a cab, he refrained from glancing back over his shoulder. It surprised him how much he hoped she would come to interview for the job. As a cab slowed for him, he had to face an ironic truth. If Mrs. Reginald Bruner did accept employment under his roof, he would be in effect placing her beyond his reach. Only the sorriest sort of polecat would make advances toward a woman who’s dependent on him for her daily bread. Besides, you lost your heart once to a beautiful immigrant girl, and you’ll never be that foolish again.

As he stepped up into the cab, Jared had to smile at the turn his morning had taken. At the very least, he’d be hiring an upstairs maid who would be easy on the eye—one who had read the journals of Lewis and Clark no less. He knew his mother and most of his friends in this city would just dismiss her as just another poor immigrant. But he couldn’t seem to dismiss her at all. His mysterious widow was the most intriguing women he’d met in a long, long time.

Chapter Three

Her Royal Highness, Princess Sophia Eugenie Tamaroff of Valdavia stared after the tall American as he strode up the busy street. What a remarkable man. First he saves me from thieves, and then he offers me employment. How spontaneous and kind these Americans can be. And how very large and vigorous. He was even bigger than the tallest of the palace guards, and they were men chosen specifically for their size and strength.

She liked everything about Mr. Grayson’s appearance, from the broad set to his shoulders to the russet color of his thick, curly hair. He had lean, chiseled features and intelligent cool, green eyes. The graceful way he moved reminded her of her father’s huntsmen back home. He’d certainly dealt with those horrible men efficiently.

With a shiver, she remembered how the cold brick wall dug into her shoulder blades while she stared at their cruel, filthy faces. How low she had fallen—to be attacked and robbed by common street thieves. Thank heavens Mr. Grayson had chosen to help her. He was right. She should have just handed them her reticule, but she and Frieda couldn’t afford to lose a single dollar.

Sophia glanced down at his card. She was almost desperate enough to apply for the maid position at his home. The money from the sale of her necklace was fast running out. She and Frieda had to find a way to support themselves here in America until the civil war in Valdavia ended. For the thousandth time since the terrible night that Alexander had deposed and murdered Rupert, she prayed her brother Michael would win the battle for their country’s throne.

Deep in thought, Sophia started the long walk back toward the dingy lodging house where Frieda waited. Last week her loyal maid had slipped on the rickety stairs inside the tenement and twisted her ankle badly. Now Sophia went about New York on her own as she searched desperately for some way for them to support themselves.

If only we didn’t have to worry about money, this would be the most glorious adventure I’ve ever had. New York is such a fascinating place. Every time she left the lodging house, she saw something new and intriguing. She never realized before how stifling her life in Ladenberg had become.

A young Italian with soulful brown eyes shoved a platter of sausages at her. Sophia paused. She and Frieda did need something to eat for their dinner today.

How much?

My fine sausages are only ten cents today.

She shook her head and tried to look sorrowful. I’m sorry. That’s too much, and started to walk on. He stepped in front of her again with a gleam in his eye, and they proceeded to bargain in earnest. She’d been surprised to find she possessed a real knack for haggling.

Because you are such a beautiful lady, I sell you one for seven cents, he offered at last.

She blushed despite herself. Done, she said and carefully retrieved seven cents from her reticule. Smiling over the whole transaction, she started on her way again with a fine sausage under her arm.

When she remembered her encounter with the street gang, though, she sobered. The truth was, she hadn’t been taking the dangers of the city seriously enough, and that was another reason to consider the position at Grayson’s home.

At last she reached Mrs. Kennedy’s lodging house. She nodded politely to her dour landlady on the first floor. On the second landing, Sophia was ambushed by three grinning little boys with freckles and bright red hair. After they shot her with their imaginary pistols and rifles, she staggered and fell upon the steps while they giggled in delight. She treasured moments like these. Although she loved children, back in Valdavia she’d rarely been able to play with them. Village and noble children alike were always too in awe of her.

After she had been dead for a suitably long minute, she opened her eyes and grinned at her attackers. Are we fighting Indians or outlaws today?

Sean Connally, the oldest of the imps, replied, We’re fightin’ outlaws and making sure none of ‘em come up the stairs.

I am happy to know you’re keeping us safe. Be good and I will come and play with you after the little one naps this afternoon. Their mother, Mary Connally, spent her days tending her seven month-old baby, keeping three active boys out of mischief, and sewing piecework. Sophia was happy to do what she