Always a Princess Read Online Free PDF

sir.”
    Sir, this time. Perhaps they were making progress. “I don’t suppose you’d like to get yourself a brandy and join me.”
    Mobley didn’t move, didn’t answer. He stood there as if the invitation had come in some unintelligible foreign language.
    Philip sighed. “No, I suppose not.”
    “You wanted to know something, my lord?”
    “You have an acute ear for language as it relates to someone’s social class, I believe.”
    If Philip hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that won him a smile from the man. Probably a trick of the firelight.
    “Do you ever come across someone whose accent isn’t truly coarse but isn’t truly refined, either?” Philip continued. “You know—hard to place?”
    “Oh, yes,” Mobley answered with more animation than he normally allowed himself. “It’s not uncommon at all, my lord.”
    “What does that usually tell you about someone?”
    “It’s very simple, sir. That type of speech invariably marks the person as one who wishes to rise above his or her rank.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “A social aspirant, my lord. Ambition of the worst sort and not at all unusual, I’m sorry to say.”
    “Your command of the Queen’s English is good enough,” Philip pointed out. “I wouldn’t call you a social aspirant, Mobley.”
    Mobley stiffened until he positively bristled. If Philip tried to touch the man right now, his hand might come away pricked by some sharp corner or other.
    “I know my station,” Mobley said. “And I’m quite content—proud, even—to be who I am.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
    “I’ve worked for your family for four decades. It’s been my pleasure to serve the earl, your grandfather, and now the earl, your father. I’ll continue to serve you when you’ve succeeded your father, my lord. Yours is a fine and noble house.”
    “And we’ve been fortunate to have you,” Philip said. “Please forgive me. It’s been a long and trying night.”
    Mobley relaxed his posture, as much as he ever relaxed his posture. At least he didn’t resemble a suit of armor any longer. “Are you sure I can’t bring you something? Another brandy, perhaps.”
    “No, but thank you. Go to bed.”
    “As you say, my lord. Good night.” Mobley exited, leaving Philip alone with his thoughts. And his thoughts went right back to where they’d been ever since he’d seen a certain pair of emerald eyes. That woman.
    He never had found out who she was—only who she wasn’t. What else had he learned? She stole jewelry, but she didn’t do it particularly well. She impersonated royalty, but didn’t do that well, either. She kissed well. Oh, yes, she did that better than well. Just remembering the heat of her response produced a pleasant tightening in his groin.
    Perhaps he’d been too long without a woman. Hell, he could hardly bed any of the virginal things his mother paraded before him as marriage material. And all the eligible young widows were friends of his family; it would hardly do to take up with a friend of his mother’s. Besides, he hadn’t seen any women who appealed to him as the dark-skinned beauties of the Indian subcontinent had. Even the passionate women of Eastern Europe—who seemed to enjoy misery as much as they enjoyed coupling—held more appeal than any of the women he’d seen at the silly balls and parties he’d attended in London.
    No, not one single Englishwoman had held any attraction for him. Until tonight, until he’d met the green-eyed mystery. And she’d gotten away from him. Stealing with her would be twice the fun as it was without her—showing up at parties with a stunning princess on his arm, dancing with her and flirting outrageously, and then stealing upstairs to pilfer a diamond here, an emerald there…
    He’d started the whole Orchid Thief enterprise to ease his boredom, a crazy idea that stealing jewels from his parents’ friends might entertain him. The fact that he was actually rather