Page 11 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘I’ll, um, find a place inside to keep your shoes,’ she said.

Then she felt a caress along her cheek. His finger stroked along her jaw such that her gaze hopped up to his.

‘Thank you,’ he said in a low tone. ‘I know that this cost you.’

There was such tenderness in his eyes that she didn’t know what to say. That this was nothing? She was the daughter of a duke. She’d crouched on the ground and washed his feet. She’d known her mother would have been humiliated to do such a thing.

Indeed, it had been difficult at first. But he was their guest. A prince from another realm. And he was kind. Kind enough to say thank you when her own parents rarely said such a thing to anyone, much less her.

She bit her lip. Damn it, she would not get emotional. Instead, she pushed herself to her feet. There were two other men in his party, both monks. Phoebe was washing the feet of one of them. Anna might as well do the other. In for a penny, in for a pound.

‘I understand you will be staying with us,’ she said. ‘Stanier can escort you to your room while I finish—’

‘We will await you,’ he said, his voice on the edge between polite and commanding. It didn’t bother her. She’d dealt with royalty before. There was an innate arrogance in all of them.

‘As you wish,’ she said as she gathered her tools and turned her attention to the second monk. It was a straightforward process, which meant her mind wandered. It always did. Usually she thought about something she was reading or something she needed to remember on her list of things to do. But this time, her attention was riveted on the prince as he watched her, his gaze a physical sensation.

Her father tried to converse with him. He replied exactly as one would expect but his gaze never left her and her back prickled with the attention. Why was he staring? Was she doing this wrong? The thoughts made her fumble with the washcloth. Fortunately, she recovered but she’d splashed the monk’s robes and now a dark wet stain appeared on the bright saffron.

‘Oh,’ she exclaimed. ‘My apologies.’

The man grunted in response. What the hell did that mean? She couldn’t tell if she was being chastised or reassured. Either way, she finished up as best she could, smiling her gratitude at Phoebe for helping her. Especially since her own servants had disappeared. That would require some discussion with Stanier later but for the moment, she knew her duty.

With a warm smile at Prince Deva, she preceded the party inside. On the way, she sent Stanier a hard look.

‘See that their shoes are brought inside and placed safely by the door. They are quite lovely and should have every care.’ She added an extra hard stare, hoping it made an impression. Doubtful but she’d tried.

She already knew which rooms had been aired for their guests. She only hoped the maids were finished. They’d had very little warning. Indeed, the breathless footman had pounded on their door and said, ‘Three Orientals! A prince! Ready rooms.’

Sometimes that was all the warning they got before Prinny shoved guests off onto them. That was the price of being a duke with a large home in London. Her father had entertained royalty from across the Continent, though not so much lately with the war. But this was the first group of Orientals they’d hosted and Anna knew she would become the belle of every ball for a while as everyone tried to get news of their strange guests.

First, she had to get them settled before tea.

She opened the door to the largest and most impressive guest room.

‘This is your room, Prince Deva. I hope it satisfies? Your manservant can stay here,’ she said as she gestured to a spacious closet fit with a cot. ‘Or we have other accommodations for him if that is your desire.’

Some royalty liked their servants at hand at all times.

‘I need no one under foot,’ said the prince.

So he was not the spoiled sort who needed constant attention. That was good. She gestured to Stanier to take the manservant to a room that could be quickly set for him. They were well used to having extra servants for their guests.

‘And one monk can be in here,’ she said as she stepped to the next room.

‘No.’

She looked up at the prince’s cold word. ‘What?’

‘Prince Vaji and abbot Siharaj have very specific needs.’

She blinked. One of the monks was a prince?

‘Um, certainly. I didn’t realise. How may we accommodate them?’

Anna looked to the saffron robed gentlemen but it was Prince Deva who answered.

‘Their rooms must be at the top of the house with a window facing east for prayers.’