The Prince's Bride Read online

  Cover Copy

  She’s searching for love.

  He’s searching for anything other than love.

  Somehow, they might just be each other’s best match.

  For years Captain Anteros Bourbon—aka The Cobra—has eluded his father. He has dedicated his life to fighting the war against Napoleon by building his fleet of ships and sinking his enemy’s warships, although he hides a deadly secret. He is a lost Prince of Naples and Sicily, and now his father has found him and is demanding he marry and produce the required heir. Never will he take on a wife though, or expose her to his dangerous activities, so instead he devises a plan to make it appear to his father that he has wed. He enlists the aid of an English lady he trusts by asking her to speak false marriage vows with him. A winning plan for sure, one which should rid him of his father’s man spying on him.

  Lady Olivia Trentbury has been infatuated with Anteros Bourbon since the first day she met him. He has aided her family in so many ways, and when he arrives on her doorstep asking if she’ll speak false marriage vows with him, she can’t turn him away. She takes all care when his father’s spy is near, although unfortunately the villain is intent on removing her from Anteros’s sight. The spy steals her away as his hostage aboard a ship bound for Sicily. Forced to survive treacherous waters as Anteros follows in hard pursuit, she discovers staying alive has never been more of a challenge.

  Can Anteros capture his lady back before it’s too late?

  Also by Joanne Wadsworth

  The Matheson Brothers Series

  Highlander’s Desire, (Book 1)

  Highlander’s Passion, (Book 2)

  Highlander’s Seduction, (Book 3)

  Highlander’s Kiss, (Book 4)

  Highlander’s Heart, (Book 5)

  Highlander’s Sword, (Book 6)

  Highlander’s Bride, (Book 7)

  Highlander’s Caress, (Book 8)

  Highlander’s Touch, (Book 9)

  Highlander’s Shifter, (Book 10)

  Highlander’s Claim, (Book 11)

  Highlander’s Courage, (Book 12)

  Highlander Heat Series

  Highlander’s Castle, (Book 1)

  Highlander’s Magic, (Book 2)

  Highlander’s Charm, (Book 3)

  Highlander’s Guardian, (Book 4)

  Highlander’s Faerie, (Book 5)

  Highlander’s Champion, (Book 6)

  Highlander’s Captive, (Novella Book 7)

  Regency Brides Series

  The Duke’s Bride, (Book 1)

  The Earl’s Bride, (Book 2)

  The Wartime Bride, (Book 3)

  The Earl’s Secret Bride, (Book 4)

  The Prince’s Bride, (Book 5)

  Princesses of Myth Series

  Protector, (Book 1)

  Warrior, (Book 2)

  Hunter, (Novella #2.5)

  Enchanter, (Book 3)

  Healer, (Book 4)

  Chaser, (Book 5)

  Billionaire Bodyguards Series

  Billionaire Bodyguard Attraction, (Book 1)

  Billionaire Bodyguard Boss, (Book 2)

  Billionaire Bodyguard Fling, (Book 3)

  THE PRINCE’S BRIDE

  by Joanne Wadsworth

  Regency Brides, Book Five

  Table of Contents

  Cover Copy

  Also by Joanne Wadsworth

  THE PRINCE’S BRIDE

  To Be, or Not to Be, That Is the Question.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Regency Brides Series

  Author’s Note – A Must Read

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  Other Series by Joanne Wadsworth

  The Matheson Brothers Series

  Joanne Wadsworth

  Copyright: The Prince’s Bride

  To Be, or Not to Be, That Is the Question.

  The British Museum, a year and a half earlier...

  Lady Olivia Trentbury rested one hand on the edge of the carriage window as the horses trotted up the promenade to the grand entrance of Montagu House. The coach swept around to the front and halted before the British Museum’s stately main entrance, the building rising two stories high with a protruding mansard roof. The patchy gray sky overhead didn’t deter her from alighting down the steps and onto the gravel driveway. No, not when she had an important meeting to attend, or she should say an important rendezvous with the most mysterious man she’d ever met.

  A light misty rain fell and with her parasol raised, she hurried across the forecourt and inside the front door, her maid falling in behind her. Usually the sheer beauty of the paintings and exhibits had her enthralled for hours, but not today. Her mysterious man beckoned.

  Following the curves of the wide winding staircase rising around the perimeter of the central saloon, she ascended to the second floor. She whisked through double doorways framed by elegant arches, passed several well-crafted displays where visitors stood in groups admiring the exhibits, then hurried onward. So many upper rooms.

  Once she reached the far recesses of the museum and entered a shadowy corridor lined with a series of dusty marble statues, she slowed her pace and halted before a heavy wooden-paneled door. From her reticule swaying over her arm, she removed the missive Captain Anteros Bourbon had sent her and pressed it against the ruffled front of her long-sleeved lavender walking dress.

  “Are you certain you wish to go in, my lady?” Concern clouded her maid’s eyes as the young woman waited behind her.

  “Very certain.” She passed her reticule and parasol to Lucy. “Wait here for me.”

  A dip of her maid’s head, her frilly white bonnet bobbing.

  “She’ll be safe with the captain.” Giovani stepped out from the shadows and tipped his hat, his dark Italian looks making her maid squeak.

  “Do not fear Giovani. He would never hurt either of us.” She squeezed her maid’s hand then stepped up to Giovani with a heartfelt smile. “Good morning. How is the captain this day?”

  “Lady Olivia, piacere. It is always a pleasure to see you. The captain is well.” A suave catch of her gloved fingers, a kiss pressed to her knuckles and a scandalous wink too. Not unusual for the captain’s right-hand man. “It appears you received his letter last night,” Giovani murmured in a low drawl.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. She’d gotten quite the shock when she’d retired to bed for the night and discovered the missive tucked underneath her pillow. “Did, ah, the captain deliver it himself?”

  “Sì, of course.” A sinful smile as he eased back into the shadows. “Go and see him, my lady. The captain misses his angelo.”

  “I shall, but make sure you don’t scare my maid again.” She opened the door and without any further hesitation, stepped inside the room which the captain had chosen for their meeting. A window allowed a touch of daylight in, dust motes catching in the muted rays, the specks swirling as she closed the door behind her. In the center of the room stood a large lifelike sculpture of Anteros, the Greek god of love and passion. Wings sprouted from the statue’s back, while a cloth lay draped for modesty over the sculpture’s shoulder and around his lower body, his chest exposed and muscles flexed as he held a bow with an arrow on the verge of being relea
sed. She wandered across to the beautiful piece, touched a finger to the statue’s curves and—

  The captain’s chest brushed against her back, one of his hands discreetly settling on her hip. In her ear, he whispered, “You give your trust so easily, il mio bellissimo angelo.”

  My beautiful angel. She loved it when he called her that.

  “I give my trust to those who deserve it.” Swishing away, she carried on around the statue, her lavender skirts brushing the polished floorboards, the engraved locket at her neck swaying against the ruffled bodice of her gown. “Why have you called for this meeting, sir?”

  “Straight to the point, as always.” He followed her, his black riding breeches tucked into knee-length boots polished to a high sheen, his hat shading the top half of his silky black hair, the collar of his superfine jacket sitting high and hiding the lower half of his face. He stopped in front of her, lifted the locket at her neck and slowly rubbed his thumb along the engraving of the cobra. “Why did you have my insignia etched upon your locket?”

  “Your diamond earring is locked away inside this charm for safe keeping.” When she’d passed by the jeweler’s shop in town a week ago, it had seemed only right to request the locket housing his jewel be inscribed with his mark. That of the cobra, a venomous snake that could strike if others ever dared to enter its territory. Much like the man himself. He protected those he considered his, a category she’d now fallen into.

  “I had Giovani give you my diamond earring so you knew the message he conveyed came directly from me.” Husky words, his gaze locked with hers. “At the time I was chasing a killer and couldn’t speak to you in person, the mission too dangerous.”

  “You’ve now completed that mission.” A mission she was aware of since it had involved the captain keeping her sister and brother-in-law alive. Not wanting to return his diamond but knowing she should, she wet her lips and forced herself to ask the next question. “Would you like your diamond earring back?”

  “Do you truly wish to return it?” His gaze softened, although the chiseled line of his jaw remained strong and firm. “Be honest with me.”

  “Honestly, no.”

  “Then you must keep it, and I will always know where to find it, adorning the neck of my angelo.” He went quiet, remaining silent for a long minute or two, the shadows in the room somehow clinging to him even though he stood directly before her in the muted light. “Why is it that you aren’t scared of the cobra?”

  “If you mean you, then I’ll never be frightened of being in your presence. You make me feel safe, guarded and protected. You are the last person in the world who would ever hurt me.”

  “You are one of the few people who do not fear me.”

  “Well, I have seen who you truly are. Underneath your fierce and secretive countenance is a man who cares for those he is drawn to protect. I like him, very much.”

  “We are opposites, you and I. Where I am fierce, you are gentle. Where I am secretive, you are completely open.” A soft caress of his finger over the engraving. “La tua bellezza risplende.”

  “Pardon?” She always melted inside when he spoke Italian, or any of the other several languages she’d heard him utter. He spoke several languages with fluent ease, often intermingling Italian and Portuguese, Spanish and Sicilian.

  “Your beauty shines forth.” Another rub over the engraving, his voice so deep and sultry as it rumbled around her. “So says the cobra.”

  “Why have you called for this meeting, Captain?”

  “Anteros.”

  “My apologies. Anteros.”

  “Desidero più tempo con te.” A wicked smile.

  More Italian. It seemed he enjoyed remaining elusive, always slightly out of her reach, but his sapphire eyes emitted a heat that constantly unhinged her. He was even more handsome than Giovani, more darker, more powerfully strong, more of everything. “Which means what, pray tell?”

  “I desire more time with you.” He stared at her mouth, his gaze going heavy, which made heat curl in her middle.

  “You are a terrible flirt.” Which she tried to say with a scolding tone, but instead came out in a breathy whisper.

  “You said you liked me, very much.” He removed his hat and tucked it under one arm, ran a hand through his midnight-black hair, the length sweeping his shoulders, the ends shimmering a vibrant blue, the exact same shade as his magnificent eyes.

  “In the way of friendship.” Since this man had saved the lives of her loved ones, she owed him a great debt, one she intended on personally repaying. Perhaps that day had now arrived. “Is something wrong? Do you need my aid for some reason?”

  “No, nothing is wrong.” He sauntered toward the window and leaned one shoulder against the polished wooden frame, his gaze on the extensive rear gardens beyond where visitors to the museum could wander about at their leisure. “I’m leaving for a while.” A sad, reflective tone.

  “How long? Tucking his missive away in her pocket, she moved slowly toward him and gently touched his arm.

  “I will miss you, mio angelo.” He continued to stare out the window.

  “How long?”

  “Three months.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have renewed my current contract with your English king and the Portuguese royal family. My entire fleet of warships are authorized to capture all merchant ships of French origin currently sailing into English or Portuguese waters along the seaward trade routes. I shall be blocking as much movement as possible made by Napoleon’s navy. I can’t allow the French to sneak past England’s defenses via the coastline.”

  “Does that mean Adrestia will be leaving soon too?” His sister had become a close friend of hers this past month, a young woman who captained one of her brother’s vessels.

  “My sister will be sailing The Decadence. I’ll be sailing The Cobra. We work best when we’re together.” He faced her, his gaze narrowing. “I wished to speak to you about a personal matter before I left. I have delved deeper into Baron Herbarth’s personal situation.”

  Surprised and shocked, her mouth fell open. “I, why would you do such a thing?”

  “Herbarth wishes to marry a lady who comes with a large dowry, just as you do.”

  “The baron and I are friends, the same as you and I are, that is all.” She had only recently turned two and twenty, although her eldest brother, Winterly, would expect her to marry soon now that both her elder sisters had wed.

  “You must take care around the Earl of Haverlocky too. This past year he has gambled a veritable fortune away and is now searching for more funds.”

  “He is naught more than an acquaintance. Do not worry yourself over Lord Haverlocky.” The captain certainly knew how to source information for those who paid him well for it, which she wouldn’t put past her brother in having instigated. “Did Winterly hire you to uncover this information?”

  “No, of course not.” He stuck his hat back on his head, tugged on the lapels of his jacket. “Do you believe in seers?”

  “I’ve, ah, never had the pleasure of meeting one. Why the change in subject?”

  “A seer once told me that you and I are destined to continually cross paths. Shira Ria is a wise old woman, an interfering one too.” A lift of his lips, his smile evidence he cared greatly for the seer. “Sometimes she states all sorts of strange things, but her words always ring true.” He cupped one of her cheeks, softly stroked his fingers back and forth. “I shall always be here to warn you away from any other men seeking to use you for their own gain. You and my sister have forged a strong friendship, while you and I have too. I guard and protect those I consider family.”

  “I consider that an honor.” Unable to help herself, she rubbed her cheek into his palm. “I’ll miss you too, Anteros.”

  “When I return, I shall come and see you.”

  “Stay safe out on the water.”

  “I always do.” He dipped in, kissed her forehead, then swept out the door.

  He was
gone. For three long months.

  Her heart panged.

  Chapter 1

  The Bay of Algiers, Algiers, on board The Cobra, late 1811, eighteen months later...

  Captain Anteros Bourbon lowered his skiff over the side of his ship anchored in the night-shrouded waters of the Bay of Algiers. With his back to the coastline, he slipped his oars into the water and heaved, a black headdress veiling his face and a black robe covering his body. “I don’t want word spreading to my father that I’m here.”

  “Provided we remain clear of your father’s spies, all should be well.” Giovani, his right-hand man, kept his gaze on the shoreline, his body robed and face covered just as his was, the night air hanging heavy and sticky with the heat of the desert flowing from the distant orange sandhills beyond the citadel.

  “With all this unrest due to Napoleon, everyone is on edge. Father even more so.” Over his shoulder, lights glittered on land and he adjusted his direction with an extra turn of one oar. On course again, his destination the eastern end of the citadel’s fortified walls, he guided them toward land. This night, he would be visiting the seer, Shira Ria. Her wise counsel was needed during the immense unrest currently plaguing him. Thankfully, his ship where it remained at anchor, had now disappeared into the dark, which meant what he could no longer see, so too could no one else from the shore.

  As the hull of the skiff scraped the sandy curve of the bay, he set the oars inside then splashed over the side into the knee-deep waters, Giovani bounding out on the other side.

  Together, they gripped the bow and hauled it half up onto the shore.

  Sliding his saber free, he snuck up the beach toward the outer wall which surrounded the city, his man at his side. The wall was built of stone and supported by arches, with a succession of cannons running the entire curved length of the city, the firepower used against those who might try to attack in the hope of taking the citadel for themselves. This stronghold sat at the edge of the desert, the Kasbah of Algiers emitting immense power under the governing rule of the almighty Dey. This city was a haven and a fortress holding mystery and sway, where the dark of night governed over the light of day, yet also a place where immense beauty could enchant the eye of the beholder.