THE SEDUCTION OF PRINCE FROG

By

Mary O’Connor

© copyright by Mary O’Connor, Aug 2007

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, Aug 2007

ISBN 978-1-60494-052-8

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Tim, my husband and best friend. Thank you for all of your love, support and faith in me. From the very beginning, you always knew I could do this and never doubted me. You make me feel like a fairytale princess and you are my real life hero. Thank you for everything you do to make my writing dream a reality. I love you.

Acknowledgments

I am so blessed and so grateful to so many people in my life and all of the different ways they support me. To Debbie, who introduced me to romance writers and has seen me at my best and worst and still wants to be my friend. Thank you for everything you have done for us and for me. You will never know how much your support and friendship have meant to me. Carry on!

To my writing buddies, Donna Grant, Georgia Ward and Robin Popp. I can’t ever find the words to tell you how much I appreciate everything each of you has done individually and collectively to help me along this road, all the while being good friends, too. “It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.” And so are you three!

To Amy Keuhnle, Kim Kemp, Malinda Ross and Maria Bowen, my very own angry housewives eating bonbons. You girls helped me keep my sanity and are my rocks. Thank you for your cheerleading, your support and your friendship through good times and bad. I can’t imagine going down any road in life without you girls by my side.

To Shalle, Angela and all my other playgroup and scrapping mommy friends who helped me create a wonderful life in a small community and already support me in everything I do. I look forward to seeing our friendships grow in the coming years.

And, to my mother, who instilled the love of a good book within me and always encouraged my writing. I hope my children can some day say the same of me. “You may have tangible wealth untold: caskets of jewels and coffers of gold. Richer than I you can never be—I had a Mother who read to me.”

Chapter One

Men were toads.

Princess Miranda lifted the hem of her skirts and stepped lightly over a puddle of mud just before she reached the wooden bridge that spanned the pond deep in the heart of the castle gardens.

Men were all toads and she wished every single one of them would go jump in a lake. Or at least a pond, a very deep pond. Anything to get them out of her way and out of her life because they seemed to cause nothing but warts and problems. She snorted as she reached the center of the sloping bridge and paused under the shade of a willow. Warts were the least of her concern.

The anger that had sent her storming from her father’s main audience chamber and into the gardens burned more fiercely within her as she glared past the pond’s surface and across the garden beds overflowing with roses, lilies, and snapdragons. Beyond the low stone wall of the gardens, she could see the lands of her father’s kingdom, her kingdom, stretching out so far the golden fields touched blue sky.

She pounded her fist into the wooden railing. It all belonged to her, she shouted within her heart. Not some eligible suitor, not some cousin from a distant land. She’d be dammed if she let anyone else take control. Who else but her had ridden these lands from one border to the next, dreamed up innovative ideas to make the field and its people prosper, cultivated the very earth with her leadership and guidance?

A plop in the water beneath her drew her attention from the great kingdom she had always assumed she would one day rule. She sighed and watched distractedly as a frog hopped out of the water and landed on a lily pad near the middle of the pond. She propped her chin on her hands, studied the green creature and wished for a moment that she could be a frog and forget the madness that seemed to possess her father.

“Maybe I could marry you, Prince Frog, and then my father would let me rule.” She snorted at the idea.

The frog was staring right at her. Then it blinked.

She chuckled. “It’s almost as if you understand me.”

And then it winked.

Miranda lifted her head. It couldn’t have winked. It was impossible. She smiled. The anger and frustration over her father’s decisions were making her daft.

“Are you under some spell, dear froggy?”

She laughed lightly at her own joke. The motion caused something to bang against the bridge rail. She reached into the deep pocket of her velvet overskirt and drew out the orange-sized glass orb given to her only an hour ago by her latest—and most recently rejected—suitor. It was fine blown glass, very delicate and perhaps even beautiful if one could appreciate such a thing in the context of how it was given. The suitor, Sir Beechum, had leered at her and licked his lips lasciviously before presenting the orb. He’d even managed to stroke her palm when he’d handed it to her and ogled the cleavage created by her gown. The man should have been horse-whipped, but no one but her had noticed his behavior and she hadn’t felt like bothering to point it out.

Recalling Sir Beechum and his fat lips, Miranda flung the orb into the pond in a fit of anger. The frog hopped after it, disappearing into the murky water.

“You may have it,” she murmured to the frog and turned away. Her witless musings needed to come to an end. She had more important matters to attend to, like figuring out how she was going to make her father agree to not marry her off or turn the power of his kingdom over to her cousin.

She heard a noise behind her and turned back toward the rail. As her gaze fell to the floor of the bridge, she gasped. The glass orb was coming toward her, picking up speed as it rolled down the slope of the bridge. She stepped out of the way and watched it go past her, continuing to roll down the bridge until it came to a splashing halt in the mud puddle at the bottom.

She was losing her mind. First, possessed frogs and now orbs that moved of their own will. At that moment, the frog climbed over the edge of the bridge, startling her into taking a step back.

He sat, looking at her, and finally his throat bulged. “Gribbet.” Or maybe he said, “Good day.”

Her hand went to her throat. She’d never seen such a thing. “It’s true then. I’m losing my mind.”

The frog didn’t answer, but continued to look at her. It hopped a foot closer.

Miranda jumped when a voice called to her from elsewhere in the garden.

“Miranda! Miranda! Where are you?”

The frog turned toward the voice, too. On a whim, Miranda stepped toward it and scooped it up. It was cold, wet, and slimy in her hands but she held it close to her face and whispered. “You’re coming with me, Prince Frog.” She eyed it suspiciously when it appeared to smile.

Dropping it into the deep pocket where she’d kept the orb, she hurried across the bridge and stepped onto the gravel path. Her sister had sounded upset when she’d called Miranda’s name, and she intended to settle Esmie down before she found somewhere to keep the frog. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to possess the creature. Perhaps, like everything else in the kingdom, she felt a responsibility to its well-being, and this particular frog didn’t seem to belong in the murky shallows of the pond. She wasn’t sure what magic was at work, but she intended to hang onto him until she knew.

“Miranda! Where are you? I know you’re out here!”

“I’m here, Esmie. I’m here!”

She walked quickly, afraid her movements would jar the frog, but it held still within the confines of the fabric. Around the corner, near a stone bench, she came face to face with her younger sister, Esmerelda. She had the same fair complexion as Miranda, the same blue eyes and brown hair touched with the color of red wine. But her love of sweets kept Esmi’s cheeks and waist plump. Miranda’s long hours on the kingdom’s behalf, meals eaten quickly and hours in the saddle had kept her lean. No doubt men favored the fullness of Esmi’s figure, which was why she’d always been in greater demand.

When she saw her older sister, Esmerelda grabbed Miranda’s hands and Miranda decided not to share that she’d been touching a frog. It seemed like Esmie was upset enough already.

She looked up at Miranda with wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks. It was more than obvious what this was about.

“Oh, Miranda, is it true? Tell me it’s not!”

“You know it is, Esmie. When will you accept it?”

Esmie groaned, dropped Miranda’s hands and feigned a swoon. She sank to the bench and dabbed her blue eyes, so like Miranda’s, with a bit of lace. “Oh, Mandy, when will you accept it? I’m in love. I want to marry Lord Jonas, and you are doing everything in your power to prevent it! How many suitors have you rejected this week?” She lowered the lace and glared at her older sister. “Ever since word got out that Father was insisting on your marriage before your birthday, the palace has been crawling with eligible men. Handsome men!”

“Stupid men,” Miranda added.

“Wealthy men!”

“Pompous men.”

“Powerful men!”

“Lecherous men.”

Esmie continued to glare at her for a moment, and then her face slowly softened. “Oh Miranda, it will happen for you. One day, when you least expect it, you’ll fall in love and understand.”

Miranda tapped her slippered foot with impatience. She was getting rather tired of this conversation with her sister. “I understand plenty, Esmerelda, and perhaps some day you will, too. Men think we’re all fools and good for only one thing. I refuse to let a man control me, or my kingdom. I love this land, this castle, the throne. I understand it and know what it needs. I’m the best ruler for this kingdom, but because I’m a woman, I’m expected to marry and step aside while my husband takes over.” She leaned down close to Esmie so the young girl wouldn’t miss a word. “I won’t do it, Esmie. I won’t. And if Father sends for our Cousin Drean after my birthday comes and goes without a wedding, then I’ll meet him at the gates, armed with a sword. I will not turn this kingdom over to a man who doesn’t have the brain power of a swan.”

Esmie’s soft face hardened into a glare again. “You’re very selfish, Mandy. I have found someone. We’re in love and want to marry and we can’t. Because of you.”

“I’m sorry for that, Esmie. It can’t be helped. It’s the law and so you’ll have to talk to Father about changing it.”

“You know he won’t.”

Miranda shrugged and then felt the frog wiggle in her pocket, pressing its webbed feet into her thigh.

“Then you’ll have to become Lord Jonas’ lover. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to, Esmie. Don’t stay in the gardens long. The light grows short.”

Miranda turned and hurried down the path toward the castle. Once inside, she walked quickly past guards at their post, nodded to bowing courtiers who milled about in the corridors, and then took the stairs, two at a time, to her chambers.

“Ladies, please give me a moment of privacy,” she said to her ladies-in-waiting when she entered the chamber. They jumped from their various tasks of cleaning, needlepoint, and music practice. With curious looks toward Miranda, they stepped from the room. Miranda closed the heavy wooden door and then looked about the chamber.

What would hold a frog?

They would think she was mad, hardly fit for ruling, if anyone found out she had chosen a frog for a pet or told anyone that she thought it was bewitched. She moved quickly to grab a vase from the mantle, a vase brought from some faraway land by some long forgotten suitor. She peered inside, decided it would serve her purpose and then found a cup on her table. She filled it with water, lowered it to the bottom of the vase and then reached into her pocket for the frog.

“I’ve found you a new home, Prince Frog. Enjoy.” The creature blinked at her. She smiled and placed him inside the vase. Placing a book over the opening at the top, she left a finger-width of room for air and set the vase on her bedside table.

“There. Now stay put, Prince Frog. I must hurry to see that supper preparations are completed and sit at my father’s side, lest he forget how much a part of his kingdom I am.”

She opened the door to her chambers and found the ladies-in-waiting huddled together outside. “You may return to your duties. However, please do not disturb the vase beside my bed. I have a special project I’m working on.”

They nodded their obedience and she hurried on her way, anxious to get back to proving to her father that she alone was the right person to rule the kingdom. And not some toad of a man.