Pleasuring the Prince by Patricia Grasso Page A

found each other,” Fancy said.
    “How was your evening with His Highness?”
    “Surprisingly enjoyable. Stepan insists I attend a society ball with him after the opera.”
    The dressing room door opened, drawing her attention. Director Bishop stepped inside, but a furry creature rushed past him.
    Fancy scooped the capuchin monkey onto her lap. “How is Miss Giggles tonight?” The monkey covered its ears and eyes and mouth in turn. “We need to teach you another trick.”
    Director Bishop lifted the monkey off her lap and passed it to Sebastian Tanner, waiting outside. Then the director beckoned to someone else. A middle-aged woman appeared, followed by two younger women carrying boxes.
    “Madame Janette has arrived with tonight’s evening attire.” The director smirked before leaving. “Isn’t that exciting?”
    In a flurry of movement, Madame Janette rushed into the room and unwrapped the gown. Created in violet silk, the gown matched Fancy’s eye color. The assistants showed her the slippers, stockings, undergarments, shawl, gloves, reticule, and fan.
    “Oh, you are the most fortunate of women,” Madame Janette gushed. “His Highness has spared no expense on his gift.”
    “I am certain the prince drops many coins in your shop,” Fancy said.
    “His Highness has never purchased a gift for another woman in my shop,” Madame Janette told her. “He insisted your eyes were Persian violets, and he demanded a shade to accentuate their rare beauty.”
    “He said all that, did he?”
    Madame Janette nodded.
    “Thank you very much.” Fancy gestured around her, saying, “I am preparing for my performance, as you can see.”
    Madame Janette and her assistants left. Genevieve gave the gown a longing look and followed them out.
    Like a woman standing on the gallows, Fancy could feel the prince’s noose tightening around her. She refused to relinquish control of her life and end like her mother, a victim of love.
    Apprehension about stepping into society swelled within her, making her hands shake. What would she do if her father was also a guest?
    Dwelling on this would ruin her performance. Fancy grabbed her Cherubino hat and headed in the direction of the prima donna’s dressing room.
    Sebastian Tanner opened the door and looked at her in momentary surprise. Then he stepped aside.
    Reluctant to enter, Fancy stood on the threshold and waited for the older woman to acknowledge her. Patrice Tanner turned away from her mirror which, Fancy noted, was larger than her own. No cracks.
    “What do you want?” The hatred in the woman’s gaze matched the frost in her tone. “Have you come to see the dressing room you covet?”
    “I came to apologize,” Fancy said. “My behavior was inexcusable, and I hope you will forgive me.”
    Patrice Tanner stared at her for uncomfortably long moments, inspecting her from the top of her head to the tips of her shoes. Before turning her back in dismissal, the prima donna said, “I will consider it.”
    Fancy leveled a deadly look on the woman. Je t’emmerde, she thought. Kiss my arse.

Chapter 4
    Fancy stared at the violet silk gown, insidious insecurity stealing her confidence. After her last song, she had returned to her dressing room to await the opera’s ending and ponder her unwelcome reception into society. No one would accept her and, least of all, the prince’s family.
    She felt trapped.
    She felt bought.
    She felt the urge to escape.
    The world closed around Fancy. Her panic swelled to a sickening proportion, making breathing almost painful. Her hands trembled, and nausea gripped her.
    I’m sorry, Nanny Smudge, she thought, but tonight I need to follow my head.
    Fancy changed into her own gown and grabbed her woolen shawl. She peeked outside the dressing room door to verify no one was lurking near and then hurried away, escaping out the stage door.
    Suppressing the urge to run, which would only bring her unwanted attention, Fancy distanced herself from the opera