Page 4 of His Perfect Princess

“Oh, Rickard,” she sighed. “You cannot treat women as if…as if we are living in the medieval ages. You cannot expect her to submit to you. You have to woo her, then propose to her. I want you to be happy.”

I turned my raised brow on her. I would be happy, and I would be happy precisely because I would have a woman who would submit to me.

“Just plan the wedding, Mother.”

She sighed again, but my father pulled her up against his side, and patted her shoulder. “The lad kens what he wants, dear. I trust him to run Faencairn after me; I suppose we should trust him to choose the right wife.”

I nodded to him, then to Findlay and Wulf. Hopefully they’d learn from my example, and all Faencairn’s princes would be married by the year’s end, as per Father’s wishes.

Tonight I would plan my campaign. Tomorrow, I would seek out Clarissa… Perhaps I would invite her to dine with me. Yes. Luncheon, or dinner perhaps…in my suite of rooms. Terribly intimate, I imagined…to see how she’d react, of course.

From his spot across the table, I heard Wulf mutter,

Perfect. Yes. And Clarissa would be perfect for me.

Chapter 2

Rickard

The following afternoon, my horse and gig was waiting for me when I arrived on the curved drive in front of the castle. Faencairn might be too small—and far too mountainous—for a railroad, but our trolley system in our capital city was the envy of every modern country, and the royal family had even been known to take advantage of the excellent public transportation system.

But the problem with public transportation—or even the ever-present hansom cabs—was that they were plodding.

While I understand—as the Crown Prince—I must always appear dignified in public…I admit a certain weakness when it comes to the freedom of speed. While it was common for my parents and brothers to be conveyed in one of the royal carriages, I preferred to drive myself. My personal conveyance was dark, sleek, and hugged the curves the way a lover should.

When I drove her, I was in complete control, which is how I liked life.

Clarissa would soon learn to love it too.

The British embassy was a brick townhome in the heart of the capital city, and I reached it in minutes. The guards recognized me, although I’d arrived unexpectedly, and of course I was admitted without trouble.

The ambassador’s housekeeper startled when she recognized me, then bowed so low her nose almost touched her desk. Had she been about thirty years younger, I might’ve been seriously tempted by such an offer, but I was here for a different prey.

“Your Excellency, the Crown Prince is here to see you,” she announced, then bowed her way out of the door.

He stood up, but my eyes had already found her. My bride, even if she didn’t know it yet.

Clarissa sat in a straight-backed chair in the corner beside a small table full of pads of paper. She had one in her hands now as she sat looking shocked at me. My eyes raked her, loving the way she looked, her blouse buttoned high under a blue jacket which cupped her tits the way I wanted to.

“Your—Your Royal Highness! To what do we owe this honor?”

The ambassador hurried around his desk but I held up my hand, halting him. Without taking my eyes from his daughter, I replied.

“I’m here to ask Miss Clarissa to dine with me.” It was incredibly informal, to refer to her in such a way, but I intended to be quite informal with her. “Today. Now.”

I needed to get her alone. I needed to know if she would be my perfect mate.

My cock hardened at the thought.

Slowly she stood, placing the paper and pen down then clasping her hands in front of her submissively. Good. She glanced at her father, then back at me, before locking her gaze on my throat. Because she found it particularly interesting, or because she couldn’t look me in the eyes?

The British ambassador was clearly caught off-guard by my demand, but I knew him to be a career diplomat, and thus used to thinking on his feet. “Of course, Your Royal Highness. I’m sure my daughter is honored by such an invitation. Isn’t that right, Clarissa?”

Without looking away, she answered. “Yes, sir.”

Holy fook, I loved the way her voice sounded when she acquiesced like that. Quiet. Sweet. My cock stirred, seeing this evidence that she’d be perfect for me.

Turning my back on her father, I held the outer door open for her. I was suddenly very interested in getting her out of here.

---