“Now Reynard,” Ebbe said once everyone had taken a seat. “You said your father is insisting you marry Princess Lexy?”
“Yes.” Lukas glared at his father. “He told me—”
“Bixby,” Culberton interrupted. “I am certain you can see the advantages of a permanent alliance between my son and the princess. My funds are allowing you the opportunity to pursue this overthrow of Severon. I trust you can see my need for…an incentive.”
Ebbe nodded. “And that would be having your son take the throne of Dresdonia if we are successful.”
The Duke of Culberton laughed. “I knew you to be an intelligent man.”
Lexy gasped. And she thought Lukas was bad.
Lukas stood up. “I have no interest—”
“Sit down, Reynard.” Ebbe spoke sharply to the young man and for once, Lukas did as told. Turning his attention back to Culberton, he continued. “Your Grace, I appreciate the honesty of your proposal. I can even understand its reasoning. However, I am not in a position to negotiate the marriage of Princess Lexy.”
“I cannot fathom why,” the Duke of Culberton said. He twisted a gold ring on his finger. It spun around and around, reflecting the sunlight, causing Lexy’s head to spin. “If rumor is true, her parents have been dead for over twenty years. Besides, it is a good match. Lukas is from a wealthy and titled family, one with connections to the crown of England. Only my older son would be a better match, but he married three years ago. I see no other options for her at present. Especially one with such material backing.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ebbe nod. Was he agreeing to this outrageousness? “Wait a minute!” She jumped to her feet. “You’ve got a lot of nerve acting as though I’m some object to be won by the highest bidder! I have a choice here, and I say no. Never. Won’t ever happen in this lifetime.” She punched Lukas in the arm. “Tell them.”
He shifted his body to stare at the fireplace. Their previous conversation about women and men being equals came back to her.
The truth hit her in an overpowering wave and she sat down as it rolled over her. No, she had no say at all. Not in this time. Not even about whom she would marry. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.
Not Lukas, Lord, anyone but Lukas.
But did Lukas have a choice either? Feeling hopeless, she lifted her eyebrows at Ebbe.
Ebbe—good, understanding, supportive Ebbe recognized her turmoil. “I beg you for time in which to think this offer over, Your Grace. Such a decision cannot be made in haste.”
The Duke of Culberton didn’t look surprised. One could almost call him smug. “Of course, Bixby. Please take your time. But keep in mind, if Princess Lexy does not marry my son, I will withdraw my support of Dresdonia.”
Ebbe appeared unmoved. “The situation is completely understood, Your Grace.”
****
Lexy stood looking out the window in her room, arms crossed over her chest. It was raining. Just as well, she thought. It fit her mood. What her mood was, though, she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something between righteous indignation, anger, and depression.
A raindrop fell on the window and meandered down the pane. Its twisted path reminded her of her life lately, first turning one way and then the other. She had thought her path straight—stay in 1580 and help restore her homeland. Yet it turned once more, carrying her somewhere she never thought to travel.
A husband had never been in her plans. Had never been in her thoughts. She’d thought to marry one day in the far future, to a believer. Someone who shared her faith, someone she could work beside, raise a family with. Lukas fit nowhere in the puzzle. Except by his father’s force.
A sound at the door drew her away from the window. Margaret. Lexy sighed. At least it wasn’t Ebbe or Lukas.
“I heard, my lady. I am so sorry.” The normal cheerfulness was absent from Margaret’s voice.
“There’s no need to apologize. It’s not as though you had anything to do with it.”
Margaret didn’t answer, but placed a tray of food on the table by the window. Lexy didn’t care if everyone thought her childish, she could not bear the thought of a two-hour dinner with the Duke of Culberton, Lukas, and Ebbe. If they thought her difficult, so be it. She pushed the food aside and faced the window again, her appetite gone. Margaret eventually left.
How much longer she stood by the window, she didn’t know. By the time she moved away, darkness had fallen and the house was quiet. It wouldn’t be long before Margaret returned to help her get ready for bed. She slipped her shoes off and left her room, wanting to find Ebbe for a quick conversation.
Candles and oil lamps lit the empty hall. The wooden floors and walls had a tendency to echo, but with her feet bare, she moved without a sound. Touching the banister with her fingertips, she tiptoed down the stairs.
Passing near the drawing room, she heard voices and stopped. One of the voices belonged to Ebbe. He talked with the Duke of Culberton.
“It is an advantageous match, Bixby. Certainly that much is clear,” Culberton said. Ebbe didn’t answer and the duke continued. “You should be thankful I will allow Lukas to take her off your hands. At five and twenty she is an old maid. Much older than what is prudent for a royal maiden.”
“If Your Grace will allow me to disagree, the fact that she is a royal more than makes up for her age.”
Her age? How dare they talk about her as if she were a brood mare! Twenty-five wasn’t so old. Many of her friends were older and still single. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a groan as she realized her friends lived in the twenty-first century. Would she ever get used to the customs and thoughts of this time?
Suddenly she didn’t feel like talking to Ebbe. She moved from the drawing room and found Lukas watching her from a landing above. Their eyes met for a brief second before he walked away.
****
He was doomed.
Lukas stood, watching her. Though he suspected her sleep would be restless, it would in no way be as terror-laced as his. He felt death’s grip on him as he never had before. And there was no escape.
His last thought before turning and heading toward his own chamber was that he never knew his destruction would come in the form of one so beautiful.
****
The next morning started with a summons from the Duke of Culberton requesting her presence at breakfast. She handed the message back to Margaret without a word. Her absence at dinner had not gone unnoticed after all.
As she dressed, she wondered what breakfast would be like. Surely whatever secrets the day had in store would pale in comparison to those of the one before.
Even though she’d dressed quickly, she still found herself last to arrive in the dining room. Choosing a seat beside Ebbe, she looked across the table to Lukas. He frowned, not pleased to acknowledge her presence even as he stood and gave a courteous bow at her entrance. Misery etched his expression.
After the food was served and she offered a short blessing, the foursome ate in silence. She couldn’t help but wonder if Culberton planned on remaining at Hullington for long or if he would return to his primary residence. Would it be wrong to pray for the latter?
“Princess Lexy, have you had the opportunity to think more on the offer I made yesterday?” Culberton’s question broke through her thoughts, and she set aside her plans for him to ride away to China on a slow moving boat.
“I have.” She saw no reason to pretend otherwise. “In fact, I’ve thought of little else.”
“Dare I hope you have reached a decision?” Culberton sent a sly look at Ebbe, giving him an all-knowing smile. It was as if he expected her to rejoice over the privilege of marrying his son. She almost hated to disappoint him. Almost.
“The problem, Culberton,” she replied curtly, “is that I have no desire to marry anyone.”
He took her retort in stride, unconcerned at the havoc he’d caused or the lack of sleep his ploy resulted in. “First Queen Elizabeth and now you. Wh
at is it with your sex? Have you decided to spurn marriage altogether?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is it a pact amongst you royals?”
She decided she’d had enough of the Duke of Culberton and his attitude. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met Queen Elizabeth. Why do you ask? Did you try to unsuccessfully pawn your younger son off on her as well?”
Culberton had taken a sip of his drink before she started speaking. She watched in horror as he spewed it over his plate as she finished. Holding her breath while waiting for the upbraiding sure to follow, she was shocked when he started laughing.
“She speaks of you.” He punched Lukas in the arm and continued laughing. “Queen Elizabeth and you.” The laughter subsided after several seconds. Culberton wiped his eyes and pointed the napkin at her. “She does have a saucy mouth, that one. You will have to take care of it after you marry.” He gave a small laugh, shook his head, and motioned for a footman to replace his plate.
Lukas sat across from her, a look of disgust on his face. His food untouched. She studied her plate in shame. He was just as vulnerable to his father’s schemes as she was. Probably more. The blame was not his, yet she’d hurt him.
When would she learn to think before she spoke? Hadn’t she decided two days ago to do better? And here she was striking out and humiliating him.
I’m sorry, Lukas. She tried to meet his eyes, but he stared over her head, unable to look at her. Or unwilling.
Ebbe cleared his throat and spoke in a whisper. “I think we should put these discussions aside for now, Your Grace. Perhaps Princess Lexy and Reynard would like to discuss the matter alone.”
Culberton looked questioningly at Ebbe. “Alone? You think that a good idea? I fail to see why it matters what they think. I was merely being polite when I asked Princess Lexy what she thought.”
She closed her eyes. I will not give in to temptation. Lord, still my tongue. Help me to not say anything else I will regret.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. There, it was easier than she’d thought.
Culberton was watching her. “Are you talking to yourself? Mayhap I should withdraw my offer. I’ll not have my son marry an unstable woman.”
“Don’t play me as an idiot,” she said. “You’d marry your son off to the devil himself if you thought it’d be to your benefit.”
Ebbe dropped his utensils. They clattered to his plate.
On second thought, she decided, maybe it wasn’t easy after all.
****
She spent the rest of the morning in her room, replaying the breakfast scene, trying to decide when it was everything had taken a turn for the worse. How was she to face Lukas again? What would she say to Culberton the next time she saw him? And what was she to do with his ultimatum?
She was still pondering the questions and getting nowhere close to the answers when Ebbe knocked on her open door. Without speaking, she let him in and motioned to the two empty chairs in her sitting room.
They sat in an uneasy silence for what seemed an eternity before she asked, “What are we going to do?”
“I have advised His Grace that his time and talents could be better spent riding south and gathering support. He is packing as we speak.”
“Thank you, Jesus.”
His face grew stern. “As for the rest of us,” he stood and walked to her window, “a bit of tact and restraint would not be remiss.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She studied the floor, shamed again by her brazen comments in the dining room.
Ebbe sighed and faced her. “I’m not convinced you should be the one apologizing.” He picked up the miniature of her mother from the table and studied its image. “As it stands now, we have two choices. You either marry young Reynard or we find a way to get you back to where you came from.”
Unfortunately, those were her thoughts as well.
He put the portrait down and lowered his voice. “I will not make this decision for you. The choice has to be yours.”
“But if you could?” She pleaded.
He whispered as though the admission pained him. “My opinion of Reynard has improved over the last two weeks.”
It was as close as he would come to helping her. At least the choice was hers. “If I decide tomarry Lukas…” she stopped, the words foreign on her tongue. Oh, Lord! It’s not supposed to be like this. “How soon would it happen?”
He cleared his throat. “Normally your banns would be read for the three Sundays preceding your wedding. With the situation being what it is, namely, we don’t want Severon to have a four-week notice of your plans, His Grace believes arrangements could be made with the local clergy to have you marry within a week.”
Her heart raced. Within a week? Of course, Culberton would have a plan in place, she thought. But still. To marry someone she’d known for less than two weeks? The idea was absurd.
Wasn’t it?
“I have something to ask Lukas before I can give my decision.”
Ebbe moved to the door. “His father will leave soon. It would be wise to wait until then.”
****
For the next hour, she sat in her room alternating between thinking and praying. The decision to stay in 1580, which days before had seemed so clear, now came back to taunt her. Had she been wrong in staying? Was there a way to stay without agreeing to Culberton’s request?
She finally called for Margaret to help straighten her dress and once confident the Duke of Culberton had left Hullington, she went downstairs.
Lukas was in his father’s library. Sitting on a couch with shoulders straight and chin uplifted, he gazed absentmindedly through the room’s lone window.
Sunlight bounced off his unbound hair, and one wayward lock fell traitorously across his forehead. Her fingers itched with the urge to push it into place, to smooth the worry lines out from between his eyes. Her fist clenched. He wouldn’t welcome her touch, especially after her display at breakfast.
He started at her call, but didn’t look her way. She couldn’t blame him.
“There’s no excuse for the way I acted earlier.” She pushed the door closed and stood with her back to it, the smooth wood an odd comfort for her splintered nerves. “Please forgive me, I never meant to hurt you. Your father…”
He looked at her. “I did warn you.”
She gave a weak smile. Somehow, he understood. Recognized the effect his father had on her. “You did.”
He stood and walked to the large desk in the middle of the room, footsteps echoing in the quiet of the room. “No one blames you.” His voice dropped. “Nor do I.”
“Thank you.” He’d forgiven her. She felt overwhelmingly grateful. Maybe it would make what was to follow easier.
“Had you another reason for seeking me?”
Her heart beat frantically, and she felt lightheaded. “Yes. About your father’s ultimatum. I have a question for you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Only one?”
Of course he would make this hard. How could she even think it would be easy? “Who threw the glass during the argument with your father?”
His wide eyes and open mouth confirmed the question asked was not the one expected. She hoped its surprise would render his response truthful.
“What manner of question is that?” he asked.
She crossed her arms and gave what she hoped was a stern look. “One I’d like you to answer.”
“You never cease to amaze me. One would think you to ask after my settlement or your monthly allowance. Mayhap what item I would give as a wedding present to show my undying love and affection. Only you, Princess Alexia, only you would ask after a thrown glass.”
It must have been him. She wasn’t prepared for the pain of regret that twisted her stomach. But she wanted to hear him admit it before she left. “I’m not interested in either your undying love or your affection. I simply want you to answer the question.”
“If you must know, my father threw a vase when I told him in no uncertain terms how I felt about his suggest
ion.”
Her stomach twisted harder.
Oh my.
“Does my answer disappoint you?”
She hadn’t realized how long she’d stood frozen, obviously longer than she thought. “No,” she choked out, clearing her throat before continuing. “On the contrary…”
He stared at her, his gaze unnerving. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. I can do this. Oh please, Lord, help me do this. “In that case, Lord Lukas Reynard, I accept your hand.”
“How curious,” he said, flatly. “I cannot recall making the offer.”
Her shoulders fell. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“I am the one making this hard?” he asked. “What happened to ‘No. Never. Won’t ever happen in this lifetime?’”
She flinched at the reminder of her words. “I’m sorry. I spoke rudely before. What can I say? I was shocked. But we don’t have a choice.”
“I suppose not.” His gaze fell to the papers scattered on top of the desk, and he sighed. A sound she had no trouble relating to. “We have much to do. Mayhap in my father’s absence we can see to the details.”
“Your father’s already seen to the details.” He had to know that by this time next week, they’d be married.
He started gathering the papers, straightening them into a stack and setting it on the corner of the desk. “Princess Alexia,” he said, looking to her once again. “The question you asked. May I ask why?”
There was no reason for dishonesty, and he knew of her work. “I’ve dealt with too many abused women to knowingly put myself in a dangerous situation. Had you been the one to throw the vase, I’d have gone back to the twenty-first century immediately. No questions asked.”
He didn’t reply, and she had no more words. In time, she hoped he’d become more like the man she’d glimpsed at Hadden House. At that moment, she couldn’t imagine being married to a proverbial iceberg. Her engagement should have been a happy occasion. Dread shouldn’t be overwhelming her.
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