The Prince's Consort (Chronicles of Tournai Book 1)
Page 33
“Of course not, sir.” Just the prudence of doing so with a powerful foreign emperor without the knowledge of their own ruler. “But—”
“This is the marriage your cousin should have negotiated for himself, but since he wouldn’t do his duty, we have to do it for him. For the good of Tournai and this family.”
“But, Father—”
“No more.” Father slapped a hand down on the wooden surface of the desk. “It’s done, and when she arrives next month, you will marry this woman. We’re finished discussing it.”
Cathal gritted his teeth against further protests and gave a sharp nod.
A few moments later, dismissed by his father, Cathal dragged in a lungful of crisp air. Spring was taking hold, but the mornings were still cool. Right now, he was thankful for that gulp of bracing air.
The meeting had not gone as he’d anticipated.
He shook his head and strode down the steps into the garden. This house, where Cathal grew up, was probably the largest home in the city. Constructed generations ago of pale gray stone, the house had three stories surrounding this inner courtyard and the garden it contained. He’d played here as a child with his brothers and cousin, chasing each other, hiding among the statuary and bushes. As he grew older, he’d come here when he needed a moment of peace. Now he spent most of his time at the palace, and the garden was the domain of his mother and younger sisters, who often sat on the benches near the central fountain to do their needlework.
He didn’t linger, couldn’t if he wanted to. He couldn’t even go up to the palace and inform Philip of the betrothal, because Cathal was due at the harbor to inspect improvements to the harbor defenses. He strode through the garden, taking the most direct route from Father’s office to the front of the house. He ducked inside again and made for the entrance hall without slowing.
His sister’s melodic laugh and the quiet murmur of his mother’s voice floated back to him. He smiled as he stepped from the corridor into the grand room. At his first step onto the red marble floor, both women looked up from where they were arranging early spring flowers in a large vase on the polished table in the center of the room. They smiled at him, identical smiles of welcome. His youngest sister looked remarkably like Mother, though Meriall was only fourteen. She was the only one of them to inherit Mother’s golden brown hair and not Father’s much darker locks.
It surprised him each time he saw Meriall how grown up she was becoming. It seemed just yesterday she was trailing after their brother Etan, getting into scrapes, and jumping on her brothers whenever she saw them. Now she was a young lady. The oldest of his three younger sisters was married, and his second sister was nearly seventeen. Cathal might have expected, if he’d thought of it at all, Father to be negotiating a marriage for her, not for Cathal.
Meriall and Mother were still smiling at him, and they left off fussing with the flowers and greenery as he approached. When she was younger, Meriall would have flung herself at him. She’d learned more appropriate behavior since then, but a part of him missed her enthusiasm. Then again, she would probably still throw herself at Etan. They’d always been closer.
“Cathal.” Mother held out her hands to him and tilted her head for his kiss to her cheek. “I didn’t know you were here.”
He brushed a kiss over Meriall’s cheek as well. “Father wanted to meet with me.”
Because he was watching, he saw the flash of concern in his mother’s warm brown eyes. Did she know her husband’s plans for Cathal? “Is everything all right?”
No, he didn’t think she knew. He doubted Father would have consulted her anyway. He flicked his glance at his sister, wondering if he should speak in front of her, but everyone would know soon enough. “Father wants me to marry.”
Mother blinked, once, twice, the only sign of surprise on her serene face. “I didn’t realize, but you are getting to be that age. There are many lovely girls you could meet and consider. Perhaps we can have a party and invite some of them.”
“Actually, Father has it all arranged already.”
“Oh. Well. I didn’t realize you and your father had chosen someone. I wish you’d told me.” The statement wasn’t much of a rebuke, not the way she said it, but from his gentle mother, it was still censure.
“I wish he’d told me. I only just found out myself, Mother.” He bit back impatience. His ignorance of his father’s actions wasn’t Mother’s doing. “She arrives in a month. I assume we’ll all meet her then.”
“Arrives? From where? Who is she?”
He didn’t blame his mother for her bewilderment. “Father says her name is Velia. I only know that she’s a cousin to the emperor of Ardunn.”
“The emperor? Does His Highness know?” Mother had been the wife of a royal duke for nearly thirty years. She could see the implications as well as he could.
“It doesn’t appear so.” He glanced from Mother, who was admirably controlling her surprise and concern, to his sister, who was watching with avid, undisguised curiosity. Well, he shouldn’t be talking about Philip’s lack of knowledge of his father’s actions anyway. “You’ll have to ask Father for more information. I don’t know anything else.”
Mother frowned. “Will you tell your cousin?”
“I can’t now. I’m due at the port, and I may be tied up there for most of the day.” And he didn’t want to put this information in a note. Still, someone needed to tell Philip, and Cathal wasn’t sure when Father would. “I’ll tell him when I return to the palace later.”
She nodded. “I’ll speak with your father. We’ll see you soon?”
“Of course.” He took his leave of his mother and sister and strode out through the large front doors into the morning sunlight again. A servant appeared immediately with his horse. He mounted up and guided the horse out through the imposing gate, open now in anticipation of his departure. He needed to hurry if he wasn’t going to be late for his appointment, and he refused to be late. He would sort out the rest later, including informing the prince.
Philip was not going to be pleased.
“YOU’LL NEVER guess what Uncle Umber has done now.”
Amory turned at the sound of Philip’s voice. Philip walked into the nursery still dressed for the court function they’d attended earlier, and looking every inch the prince. But he was always Pip to Amory. Philip’s voice was pitched low, in deference to Amory’s efforts to coax their six-month-old son to sleep, but incredulity and frustration came through despite the pitch. A sinking sensation went through Amory’s midsection. Pure dread. “What now?”
Despite whatever had happened, Philip smiled when he looked at Amory and the child in his arms. Philip came closer and kissed Amory softly, resting one hand on Amory’s shoulder and the other gently on their son’s back. Amory leaned up into the kiss, lingering, savoring. Nearly two years together and he still couldn’t get enough of kissing Philip.
When Philip finally drew back, he was still smiling. The baby blinked up at Philip owlishly from where his head rested on Amory’s shoulder. Amory was still awed every time he looked at their son. Even when the baby didn’t want to sleep.
“He giving you trouble?”
Amory smiled, fond despite a slight frustration. “Stubborn baby is tired but won’t sleep.”
“Let me try.” With the ease of long practice, they transferred the baby from Amory’s arms to Philip’s, though Amory hated to relinquish the warm weight. Silly, he knew.
Philip settled the baby against his own shoulder and began rocking smoothly side to side. He often had better luck getting their stubborn son to sleep than Amory did. Amory liked to think it was because the stubbornness came from Philip.
“So what has Umber done now?” Knowing Umber, it could be anything.
“He’s arranged a marriage for Cathal,” Philip answered in the same near whisper Amory used.
Amory didn’t bother to hide his surprise, though he wondered why he was so surprised in the first place. Umber’s concern was always fo
r Tournai and its royal dynasty. “We should’ve expected it. He’s never going to let his children make their own choices about whom to marry.”
Philip sighed. “I know you’re right. Love and happiness aren’t relevant concerns to my uncle.”
Amory knew that well. “And Cathal? He’s well past the age of majority. He could refuse.”
“He’ll go along with it.”
Of course Cathal would. Duty was Cathal’s one watchword. “Have you spoken with him?”
“Not yet. He was delayed at the port—he’s been there all day. But I will talk to him.”
Amory was not at all surprised by Philip wanting to help Cathal. Philip hated the idea of arranged marriages, and he loved Cathal, despite their recent difficulties. He would want Cathal to have the best chance at happiness.
“Cathal, of everyone, needs to find someone to love, someone to balance him,” Philip added.
Amory nodded. “Do you know who Umber is considering for a bride?”
“Forget considering. He’s decided and arranged the thing. Contracts have already been signed.”
“What?” He barely managed to keep his voice down. Cathal was first cousin to the crown prince. By all rights, Umber should have consulted Philip first, and with how important Umber held tradition to be, it was shocking and insulting—and frankly, suspicious—that he hadn’t. “Why?”
“I assume he didn’t want me to interfere while he negotiated a marriage between Cathal and a cousin of the emperor of Ardunn.”
Amory opened his mouth, but no words came out. A woman from Ardunn? A cousin to the emperor?
Philip must have seen enough in his expression. “Exactly.”
Amory found his voice. “What is he doing?”
“That’s the question.” Philip craned his neck to look down at their son’s face. “He’s asleep.”
Amory shook his head, exasperated but unable to be truly annoyed at Philip. “I don’t know how you do it.”
Philip flashed him a grin. “It’s a gift.”
He shook his head again as Philip carefully laid the baby in his cradle. But he smiled when Philip took his hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me anyway.” Philip walked with him from the room and closed the nursery door quietly behind them.
“I do.” He tried to make his voice sound long-suffering, but the laughter he couldn’t quite suppress rippled through his words. If anything, Philip’s grin widened. They walked hand-in-hand to their own bedchamber.
As Philip closed the door behind them, Amory returned the conversation to a more serious topic. “What do you think your uncle is up to?” He hated to bring it up, but the question needed to be asked. While Umber had been less vocal in his displeasure since the baby’s birth, he certainly hadn’t changed.
“Who knows?” Philip looked weary saying it, and Amory stepped forward, wanting to soothe that weariness away. He brushed Philip’s hands aside and took over unbuttoning Philip’s shirt. “It’s obvious he wants to show his power. You know I would never interfere if he was just choosing a bride for Cathal here.”
“Well, you would talk to Cathal.”
“Yes.” Philip sighed. “I know most marriages are arranged. That doesn’t mean I’m ever going to like it. But if Cathal told me he agreed, if he at least liked the girl… I wouldn’t have said anything more, and I wouldn’t have disputed the choice. But Uncle Umber negotiated a marriage with an Ardunnian imperial cousin. And I can’t undo it without provoking serious consequences.”
And the consequences really were the issue. Amory helped Philip out of his shirt and tossed it over a chair. Before he could start on Philip’s breeches, Philip reached for the fastenings to Amory’s upper garments. “Why do you think he did it?”
“I don’t know. Power? I just don’t understand why the emperor agreed. Uncle Umber has no authority to guarantee to anything, to even negotiate anything on behalf of Tournai. What could he have promised?”
“I don’t understand either.” The brush of Philip’s fingers over Amory’s skin as he pulled off Amory’s shirt made him shiver. Amory forced himself to focus. “What will you do?”
“Talk to Cathal. Find out as much as we can about this betrothal.” Philip trailed his fingertips down Amory’s chest. “Tomorrow.”
Amory let out a long sigh. “Yes, tomorrow. For now, come to bed.”
ANTONIA AQUILANTE has been making up stories for as long as she can remember and, at the age of twelve, decided she would be a writer when she grew up. After many years and a few career detours, she has returned to that original plan. Her stories have changed over the years, but one thing has remained consistent—they all end in happily ever after.
She has a fondness for travel (and a long list of places she wants to visit and revisit), taking photos, family history, fabulous shoes, baking treats that she shares with friends and family, and of course reading. She usually has at least two books started at once and never goes anywhere without her Kindle. Though she is a convert to eBooks, she still loves paper books the best, and there are a couple thousand of them residing in her home with her.
Born and raised in New Jersey, she is living there again after years in Washington, DC, and North Carolina for school and work. She enjoys being back in the Garden State but admits to being tempted every so often to run away from home and live in Italy.
Twitter: @antoniaquilante
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AntoniaAquilanteAuthor
E-mail: antonia.aquilante@gmail.com
Website: www.antoniaaquilante.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Prince's Consort
© 2015 Antonia Aquilante.
Cover Art
© 2015 Anne Cain.
annecain.art@gmail.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
ISBN: 978-1-63476-301-1
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-302-8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015945181
First Edition October 2015
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
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The Prince's Consort (Chronicles of Tournai Book 1)