The Perils of Pursuing a Prince

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The Perils of Pursuing a Prince Page 25

by Julia London


  In the morning room at Middleton House, Ava read them all, ending with the latest, then leaned back with a heavy sigh. “What in God’s name has she gone and done, do you suppose?”

  “I haven’t the slightest notion, Ava, but we must go to her!” Phoebe insisted. “Middleton will hire a coach, will he not?”

  “Of course he will,” Ava said, looking at the letter again. “But the rain is dreadful this year and it will soon turn to snow. It could take some time to reach her.”

  “Yes, but he must send a coach at once, Ava,” Phoebe insisted. “She is on the very brink of ruin!”

  Ava glanced up at her younger sister and smiled weakly. “You must brace yourself, dearest, for I fear that Greer has toppled right off the brink and into the soup of ruin already.”

  Twenty-four

  I t had been years—decades, even—since Rhodrick had felt so light of being, and he could not wait to hold Greer in his arms again.

  He conducted his business as if there were a fire raging at Llanmair, then made one last stop before heading out—a jeweler he had used frequently when Eira was alive.

  The merchant was happy to see him, of course, as undoubtedly the vision of banknotes and gold coins danced merrily before his eyes. But when he realized Rhodrick was looking for a gift for a woman, he began to eye him curiously, asking questions, the answers to which Rhodrick knew would spread about the region faster than the plague.

  “May I inquire as to the purpose of the gift, my lord?” he asked slyly. “A birthday? An anniversary of some sort?”

  Rhodrick hardly spared him a glance as he looked at the dizzying array of jewels before him, all of which seemed the same color to him. “A gift,” he said.

  “Perhaps if you were to tell me the lady’s age—”

  “There,” Rhodrick said, and pointed to a ring made with a brilliant blue stone, the same color as her eyes. “What is that?”

  “A water sapphire, my lord,” the jeweler said as he lifted the ring from its case and handed it to him for his inspection.

  It was as large as the nail on his index finger, and was encircled by small diamonds. “I’ll have it,” he said, handing it back to the jeweler. “Wrap it, if you will.”

  The jeweler put the ring in a small case. As he wrapped it in paper and ribbon, he glanced at Rhodrick from the corner of his eye. “A gift as fine as this would surely commemorate an important event, my lord.”

  “Mmm,” Rhodrick said.

  “It will certainly become a family heirloom,” he said, and presented the wrapped box to Rhodrick. “How shall I word the bill of sale?”

  Rhodrick looked him in the eye. “One sapphire ring,” he suggested. “And you may put it to my account.” He strode out of the jeweler’s shop.

  He rode back to Llanmair as quickly as he could, bent over his mount with his hat pulled low over his eyes, the sapphire ring tucked securely in his pocket.

  As he thundered into the courtyard, two groomsmen raced out to meet him. Rhodrick swung down, tossed the reins to one of the boys, and strode into the castle, where Ifan was waiting in the foyer.

  Rhodrick swept off his hat and handed it to Ifan. “Send Miss Fairchild to me in my study.”

  Ifan shifted his glance downward. “Miss Fairchild is not here,” he said.

  Rhodrick stilled. “What? Where is she?”

  “She took the young mare and left shortly after you this morning.”

  The euphoria that had kept Rhodrick aloft all day began to deflate. He absently pushed a hand through his hair, his mind racing. “Did she say where she was riding?”

  “No, my lord; she expressly refused to say.”

  Refused? The doubts he’d had about her began to snake into his thoughts. He focused his attention on his gloves as he yanked them, finger by finger, from his hand. “When she returns, see to it that she is sent to my study,” he said gruffly. “I shall be reviewing the accounts.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  He took his greatcoat from his shoulders and handed it to Ifan, his hand going to the pocket of his day coat and the small package there.

  Ifan bowed his response, and with Rhodrick’s greatcoat slung over his arm, he quit the foyer.

  Rhodrick shook his head to dislodge the doubts that suddenly sprang up in his mind like so many weeds. It was nothing to concern him, he told himself. He had lain with the woman twice, and he was not exactly a novice in the art of reading feminine wiles. He knew from experience that Greer had enjoyed their trysts as much as he.

  But when Rhodrick glanced up, his gaze fell on his reflection in the mirror, and he felt a strong, choking twist of doubt.

  Greer entered his study with cheeks stained pink from the cool air outside.

  “Miss Fairchild,” Rhodrick drawled from behind his desk. “Welcome back.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she squatted down to greet Cain and Abel. “It was such a crisp day, I could scarcely bear to sit inside a moment longer.” She glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. You were not lost again, I hope.”

  “Not at all,” she said, turning her attention to the dogs once more. “I think I am beginning to know my way around Llanmair quite well.”

  He could not possibly imagine how, as Llanmair comprised thousands of acres, and to his knowledge, she’d been out in the acreage only once or twice. “I thought you had a century of Welsh history to read,” he said, turning his attention to the papers in front of him.

  “Actually, I read quite a lot last night.” She stood up and moved to one of the chairs at the hearth, bracing herself against it with her hands. She looked at him strangely, as if she were trying to sort out who he was. “I was rather surprised—the chapter dedicated to the canal building across Wales was rather fascinating.”

  He knew she didn’t find canal building the least bit interesting. “Did you happen upon one of the canals built to bring coal to Powys in the course of your ride?” he asked idly.

  “No,” she said, looking at him again. “Are there canals in Powys?”

  So much for learning her way about Llanmair. Rhodrick abruptly stood, his hands on his hips, and walked to the window. “If you did not see the canals, then where did you ride?”

  “Here and there.” She joined him at the window, her hands clasped behind her back. “In and out of the forest.”

  “Did you meet anyone?”

  She shot him a dark look. “You do not trust me yet.”

  He clenched his jaw shut for a moment and thought about it. “Not entirely,” he admitted.

  “Who do you think I might have seen?”

  “Any number of persons, I suppose. Percy, perhaps?”

  “Mr. Percy?” she exclaimed and laughed bitterly. “I may have been taken for a fool once, but I will not be again.”

  He was exceedingly glad to hear her say it, yet it did nothing to relieve his anxiety about her.

  She sighed. “I did not see anyone I know—how could I possibly? There are miles and miles of forest and fields with not a soul in them.”

  Rhodrick turned to face her. “Perhaps you encountered someone you don’t know, then, for I cannot understand why you are so reluctant to tell me what part of my estate you have seen.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, then shut it, as if she couldn’t quite decide what to say. She suddenly lifted her chin. “You may as well end your interrogation, my lord, for I will not answer you. As it happens, I am planning something of a surprise.”

  “What surprise?” he asked suspiciously.

  “If I told you, it would no longer be a surprise, would it?” she said, and gave him a defiant smile.

  Rhodrick couldn’t help himself; he cupped her face and looked at her questioningly. Her lashes fluttered with his touch, but she smiled brilliantly.

  Was he a fool? Had he been isolated here at Llanmair for so long that he no longer remembered how to guard his emotions? It was impossible for him to look
into those blue eyes and suspect a conspiracy or that she could mean to hurt him in the end.

  On the other hand, he could not possibly imagine what she might be doing to surprise him. But she’d surprised him once before, by arriving at Llanmair in the manner she had, in the company of Owen Percy.

  He was a bloody, lovesick fool, for at that moment, he hardly cared; all he could think of was kissing her and entering her warm, moist body. And as he leaned down, touched his lips to hers, and slid his tongue into her sweet mouth, he knew that he’d lost all hope of reason.

  “I have a surprise for you as well,” he said.

  “I adore surprises!” she said happily.

  With a chuckle, he dropped his hand from her face and walked back to his desk, where he picked up a bank draft he’d made out earlier. He held it out to her. “Your inheritance.”

  “What?” Her gaze flicked to the paper, then to him. “Rhodrick!” she exclaimed, and hurled herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. “But what of the letter?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I don’t need it,” he said, meaning it sincerely. “This is yours to do with what you will.”

  “Oh my.” Greer took the banknote from him and examined it. “I feel as if I have accomplished something quite important.”

  He laughed and kissed her again. And he was not fool enough to inquire as to her whereabouts again that afternoon lest he risk losing her kisses. Frankly, he quite forgot it and everything else in favor of a game of chess with her. His accounts went untouched, his correspondence lay unopened. He even sent the dogs out with Ifan just so that he might have her all to himself. He forgot the dull ache in his knee that heralded a change in the weather. He forgot everything but Greer.

  That night, over supper, she entertained him greatly by reciting the facts she had learned about Wales in her short time here. And he, having pushed his earlier misgivings aside, told her about his desire to host a Christmas soirée.

  Greer’s smile instantly fell. “A soirée?” she echoed skeptically.

  He nodded. “Wouldn’t you enjoy it?”

  “But…but what will your guests think?” she asked quietly.

  “That you are my guest. Unless…there is a change in our acquaintance.”

  “You mean when I return to London,” she said, frowning thoughtfully.

  As if he could possibly let her go. He reached into his pocket for the package and placed it on the table between them. “I have no intention of allowing that,” he said quietly, and glanced at his footmen, sending them from the room with a nod.

  When the door closed behind the two men, Greer lifted her gaze to Rhodrick. “What is it?” she asked, her voice full of mistrust.

  “Why don’t you open it?”

  She gave him a strange smile and picked it up, pulled the small bow free, and slowly unwrapped it. When she opened the box, her eyes rounded with surprise. “Oh my,” she whispered as she removed it from the box. “It is…it’s beautiful.”

  “I hoped you would like it.”

  “Like it?” she exclaimed, looking up at him. “It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. But Rhodrick…I cannot possibly accept something so extravagant.”

  He laughed at her youthful naïveté. “I think you do not understand my intentions, darling. It’s entirely my fault, for I did not speak when I ought to have done. I want to marry you, Greer. At once.”

  Greer recoiled from the ring, pushing it away. “What?”

  A jolt of fear hit Rhodrick square in the chest. “What is it?” he asked, his voice remarkably calm given the roil in his gut.

  “What is it?” she echoed with alarm. “This notion of marriage!”

  “Greer! Did you truly believe I would bed you and then leave you to fend for yourself?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Yes! I mean…I mean that as I came to Llanmair in a less than respectable fashion, and as I have been living here without chaperone—”

  “That matters not,” he said flippantly.

  “It matters quite a lot,” she said adamantly, and stood up.

  “I’ve long since stopped caring what people might say or think—”

  “I haven’t,” she shot back as she began to pace. “And there is London. I belong in London, not some desolate castle in the middle of thousands of empty acres!” she cried frantically. “My family—my life—is in London!”

  “You could have a fine life here,” Rhodrick said gruffly.

  “Yes, of course, but…” She suddenly groaned and covered her face with her hands. “In all honesty, I had not seriously considered marriage a possibility before this very moment!”

  It disturbed him to know she thought him capable of taking her virtue without considering her future. It disturbed him that she was capable of giving it without considering the same. He stood up, strode to where she was, and put his hands on her arms. “Of course it is a possibility, and frankly, after what we have shared, there is no other possibility. Do you think me so vile as to compromise you completely and leave you to suffer the consequences?”

  She flinched and moved away without answering him. When she refused to meet his eye, Rhodrick realized that he was, indeed, a colossal fool. He’d allowed himself to fall in love with this woman when he should have suspected—he should have known—that she would not want to enter into an arrangement for all eternity with a man like him. Why should she? She was young and beautiful and vibrant—

  “Please try and understand me,” she said, her voice full of distress. “I am touched by your offer, but I am…I am wholly unprepared,” she said nervously, looking a bit like a caged animal. “I did not think…” Whatever she might have said, she thought the better of it, and looked up at him with rueful eyes. “I appreciate your concern for what is left of my virtue, but I am not prepared to make a decision as great as…as this,” she said, gesturing to the ring on the table.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said tightly, “but what did you think to do?”

  “I…it’s rather complicated.”

  Complicated? Dear God. He struggled to maintain his composure. “Please do me the courtesy of telling me the truth, Greer. Is there another man to whom you have pledged your affection?”

  With a hiss of breath she glowered at him. “I suppose you mean Mr. Percy?”

  He shrugged.

  “It seems rather hard for you to believe my truthful declarations, but I shall tell you again, truthfully, that there is no gentleman waiting in London for my hand, and I do not now, nor have I ever, held any particular affection for Mr. Percy!”

  Her indignation had no effect on him. “Then what could possibly be your objection to a match with me? Is my fortune not big enough? My title not lofty enough? My face not handsome enough?”

  “You insult me,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “I don’t know how I can possibly make you understand this, but for these weeks I have been at Llanmair, I have been living a dream, playing at princess, pretending in a fairy tale. But it is not real. My life is in London, my cousins are in London. Your life is here, and I do not believe our lives were ever meant to intersect.”

  She had slain him. He surely lay open and bleeding, for it felt no less painful. Rhodrick couldn’t say what he’d expected, but certainly it had not been this. He looked at the ring lying on the table, that grand gesture of his esteem for a woman who, not surprisingly, could not return his affections.

  “But our lives have intersected, and rather strikingly so,” he said simply, but his heart was screaming that this could not be happening, because he loved her, he didn’t care how they had met, he had fallen headlong in love with her, and now his heart was bleeding with it.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the room. “It has been a rather long day,” he said, and picked up the box, returned it to his pocket, then bowed. “Good night,” he said, his voice damnably soft.

  She seemed somewhat taken aback, as if she didn’t know what to say or do. She took two ste
ps forward and put her hand on his arm.

  It took all the strength Rhodrick had to keep from flinching at the feel of her slender hand on his arm. “Rhodrick, please try to understand.” She looked at him with the luminous blue eyes that he adored. He tried to read them, tried to understand what was on her mind, but he realized with a twinge of sorrow that perhaps he really did not know Miss Fairchild at all. “I do understand, very clearly.” He removed her hand and quit the room.

  Twenty-five

  A s Rhodrick disappeared into his study with his hounds, Greer retreated to her suite with many conflicting thoughts whirling in her head and many emotions spinning with sickening speed in her gut.

  She’d been shocked by his offer of marriage, astounded, appalled and frightened by it. There had been no understanding between them, no time for her to consider what she was doing, and from the moment she had seen the ring and understood his intentions, she had not been able to collect her thoughts very well at all.

  Now, in the quiet of her suite, she tried hopelessly to sort out her thoughts and feelings.

  She paced, fingering the charm at her neck. She was moved and rather relieved that he thought to marry her, of course she was—and part of her relished the idea of being a princess—but in London. Not Wales. Near her cousins, so that their children could grow up together, near a large and vibrant society. Not here in this lonely part of the world.

  Then again, she had become rather attached to the idea of making her own way, of establishing herself as mistress of Kendrick somehow, now that she had the means to do it, and living the life few women dared to even dream. There was a powerful allure to charting her destiny. She understood what a gift the possibility was, particularly after her stepuncle, Lord Downey, had, in the space of one afternoon, knocked her and her cousins quite off their feet by claiming their inheritance and announcing he would see them married as soon as was possible.

  On that day, Greer had understood all too keenly that as women they really had nothing on which to stand but the esteem men held for them. It was a precarious place, and as an orphan, with her guardian aunt gone, she existed day to day on the merest shred of kindness extended to her.

 

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