How to Pursue a Princess by Karen Hawkins Page A

her dance card. She caught sight of him once or twice at the edge of the crowd and once locked gazes with him. But she deliberately turned her back and pretended not to see him.
    She could tell from his growing glower that he was well aware of her actions, and she was certain that only his pride kept him from stalking up to her, throwing her over his shoulder, and carrying her off—something he looked more than ready to do.
    A short time later, she was relieved when, his face grim, the prince stalked from the ball. And Lily, pretending she didn’t care, danced once more with the dashing Earl of Huntley.

Seven
    From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe Ah, what a night! I’m so tired that I can barely hold my pen, but my dance was a triumph. Everyone was well amused, and I succeeded in introducing Miss Balfour to Huntley. I can tell he’s intrigued and she . . . she’s harder to read, I fear, but I know that she had to have been pleased for he’s everything she could hope for.
    The clock is now chiming three, and I can safely predict that I, and all of the guests, will sleep well past noon.
    A little after seven the next morning, Lily pushed open the door to the library and peeked inside. “Ah, empty!” Smiling, she entered and, shifting a large hatbox to one side, held the door wide. “Come on,” she told the fawn-colored pug who stood in the hallway looking up at her with a curious gaze. “We can’t linger in the hallway or we’ll be caught, for the servants are already stirring.”
    He took two steps toward the door and thenhalted, tilting his head to one side as if asking her a silent question.
    “Yes, yes. In an hour, I’ll ring for a breakfast tray and I’ll specifically ask if there’s a bone you might have.”
    The pug’s tail wagged harder and he pranced past her into the library.
    “That was a bit too easy,” she told the dog. “Just so you know, I was willing to go up to two bones.”
    Blissfully unaware of the criticism being heaped upon his head, the pug began sniffing the rugs. Lily used her hip to close the door, then carried the heavy hatbox to the desk and set it on the leather surface. “This will do nicely.”
    Humming to herself, she went to the four large windows and threw open the heavy drapes to let light stream into the room. “Much better!”
    Outside, the morning dew sparkled on the green lawn, while a mist clung to the lake, growing thicker as it rolled toward the forest. “Beautiful,” she murmured. She glanced at the pug, who sat at her feet, waiting patiently. “Should we open the window and let in some fresh air or is it too cold?”
    Feenie sneezed.
    “Yes, it’s a bit stuffy in here. We can always light the fire if it gets too chilly.”
    The pug sneezed again.
    “Exactly.” Chuckling, Lily threw the windows open. Instantly, the fresh morning air flooded the room, making her feel far more awake. “Even better.”
    She’d only had five hours of sleep and was a bit cotton-headed because of it, but she was unused to late morning hours and, despite going to bed at two, had found herself wide-awake with the sunrise. She went to the desk and unpacked her hatbox. Inside rested a stack of wool stockings with holes in the toes or the heels, as well as a pillowcase and three linen napkins in dire need of hemming. Lily dug a small box from the bottom of the hatbox, took the pillowcase, and settled into the corner of the settee. Feenie jumped onto the settee beside her and curled into a ball to sleep.
    Lily opened the box and pulled out a needle, thread, and a pincushion. Within moments, she was busy hemming the pillowcase with delicate, precise stitches. As she sewed, she relaxed, her mind wandering over the events of the last few days.
    She’d danced well into the night and had enjoyed several conversations with Huntley, yet she couldn’t shake the memory of Wulf’s furious gaze following her about the room. She’d hated doing such a thing, but if she wanted to