“Yes.”
He was silent a moment more. “But what if you fall in love?”
“I have no choice.” She heard the sadness in her voice and resolutely forced herself to say in a light tone, “It’s the way of the world, isn’t it? But to be honest, I wouldn’t be looking for a wealthy husband except that I must. Our house is entailed, and my father hasn’t been very good about— Oh, it’s complicated.”
He didn’t reply, but she could tell from his grim expression that he disliked her answer. She didn’t like it much herself, for it made her sound like the veriest moneygrubbing society miss, but that’s what she’d become.
She sighed and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
He looked down at her, and to her surprise, his chin came to rest on her head.
They continued on thus for a few moments, comfort seeping through her, the first since she’d left her home.
“Moya, I must tell you—”
She looked up. “My name is not Moya, but Lily.”
His eyes glinted with humor. “I like Moya better.”
“What does it mean?”
His gaze flickered to her hair and she grimaced. “It means ‘red,’ doesn’t it? I hate that!”
He chuckled, the sound warm in his chest. “You dislike being called Red? Why? It is what you are. Just as what I am is a prince with no fortune.” His gaze met hers. “We must accept who we are.”
She was silent a moment. “You’re dreadfully poor? You said you’d just bought a house.”
“A cottage. It has a thatched roof and one large room, but with a good fireplace. I will make stew for you. I make good stew.”
It sounded delightful; far more fun than the rides, picnics, dinner parties, and other activities the duchess had promised. “I like stew, but I’m afraid that I can’t visit your cottage. It would be improper.” Furthermore, she didn’t dare prolong her time with such a devastatingly handsome, but poor, prince. She had to save all of her feelings so that she could fall in love with the man who would save Papa.
Wulf’s brows had lowered. “But you would come to my cottage if I had a fortune, nyet?”
Regret flooded her and she tightened her hold about his neck. “I have no choice; I must marry for money. I don’t know why I admitted that to you, but it is a sad fact of my life and I cannot pretend otherwise. My family is depending on me.”
He seemed to consider this, some of the sternness leaving his gaze. After a moment he nodded. “It is noble that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for your family.”
“Sacrifice? I was hoping it wouldn’t feel so . . . oh, I don’t know. It’s possible that I might find someone I could care for.”
“You wish to fall in love with a rich man. As my babushka likes to tell me, life is not always so accommodating.”
“Yes, but it’s possible. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m a blank slate. The duchess is helping me, too, and she’s excellent at making just such matches. She’s invited several gentlemen for me to meet—”
“All wealthy.”
“Of course. She is especially hopeful of the Earl of Huntley, and so am I.” Lily looked away, not wishing to see the disappointment in his gaze yet again.
Silence reigned and she savored the warmth of his arms about her. At one time, a wealthy gentleman had seemed enough. Now, she wished she could ask for a not-wealthy prince. One like this, who carried her so gently and whose eyes gleamed with humor beneath the fall of his black hair. But it was not to be.
She bit back a strong desire to explain things to him, to tell him exactly why she needed to marry a wealthy man, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference. As he’d said, he was who he was, and she was who she was. There was no way for either of them to change things, even if they wished to, so it would be better for them both if they accepted those facts and continued on.
For now, though, she had these few moments. With that thought in mind, she sighed and rested her head against his broad shoulder. This will have to be enough.
Five
From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe I knew I shouldn’t have invited that prince from Oxenburg, polite or no. Lily has been here but two days and already he’s orchestrated a rescue, and the poor girl has yet to meet the Earl of Huntley. How is Huntley to match such an entrance? Damn that prince! If he weren’t so unfashionable and ill-kempt, I would be worried.
“Och, lassie, ye’ve hardly touched yer tea.” Mrs. Cairness shook her head.
“I’m sorry.” Lily allowed the housekeeper to pour her now-cold cup of tea back into the pot and refill her cup with warmer tea.
“Drink that, miss. Ye’ll feel much better.”
“Thank you.” Lily obediently sipped, her gaze drifting to the sun pouring in through the windows. She was sitting in the small salon on a settee, her legs stretched before her, a thick blanket tucked all around. Her ankle was already much better, now that her boot was off and a pillow rested beneath her foot.
She watched the light stream into the room. It was a cozy location, especially as the guests who’d already arrived were off playing pall-mall upon the lawn and she had most of the castle to herself. Normally, she’d enjoy the peace and quiet and might even find a sewing project to busy her hands, but instead, she found herself staring morosely out the window.
Despite the prince’s plans, she didn’t get the chance to see his cottage or meet his babushka, for they’d only walked for a few more moments in blissful silence when his men had met them on the road, a fresh horse ready. She had the impression that Wulf hadn’t been any more pleased at the intrusion than she was, though he hadn’t said much. He’d set her on her feet, climbed upon his horse, and then lifted her before him.
The ride back had been lovely, his arm warmly resting about her waist, his broad back protecting her from the wind as they rode out of the forest. All too soon they were at Floors Castle, and he was carrying her through the huge doors and into the foyer. All bedlam had broken loose then, for the pugs had taken exception to the prince’s swinging cape, while the duchess and Lady Charlotte—called from the sitting room by the loud yapping—exclaimed in dismay and demanded that the prince immediately put Lily on the settee in the small salon.
The duchess had sent the servants scurrying as she rapidly ordered tea, a physician, a pillow for Lily’s foot, and then efficiently herded Wulf from the room.
Lily had been sorry to see him go. Indeed, she felt sadly bereft, as if she’d left something behind . . . something important. She had to shake her head at her own silliness, even as she acknowledged that the prince was the first person she’d met since her arrival at Floors Castle who’d made her feel comfortable. But that doesn’t matter. You’re not here for comfort; you’re here to find a husband.
She sighed and put her teacup back on the tray. “Mrs. Cairness, I think I’ve had enough now. It was delicious.”
“Her grace said ye are to drink it all, miss. If’n I were ye, I’d do as she says. She’s a determined woman, and smart, too. If’n she tol’ me t’ dance, I’d dance. If’n she tol’ me t’ jump upon one foot and toss fairy dust, I’d do it wit’oot askin’ why.” The housekeeper glanced at the door and then bent lower. “Trust me, miss. The duchess ne’er suggests ye t’ do somethin’ wit’oot a reason.”
Lily sighed as the housekeeper poured yet more tea into her cup. “I shall float away, but fine. I’ll drink more tea.”
“Good,” came the duchess’s voice from the doorway. She entered with a rustle of blue silk overlaid with pink lace, her bright blue eyes twinkling. Behind her trotted the six Roxburghe pugs, wheezing and snorting as they tried to keep up. The duchess stopped at the end of the settee, and one of the pugs jumped into Lily’s lap.
She laughed and patted the little dog, who grinned, his tongue hanging out one side. “And who are you?” she asked the dog.
Lady Charlotte, who’d followed the dogs into the room, her knitting basket at her side, smiled. “That’s Feenie. He’
s a cuddler.”
Lily patted the dog. “He’s certainly friendly.”
The duchess sank into an empty chair opposite Lily, while Lady Charlotte followed suit, the remaining pugs dropping in various spots on the rug.
“Poor Miss Balfour!” Lady Charlotte shook her head, her lace cap flopping over her ears. “How is your ankle?”
“It’s fine. It barely aches, and I feel silly for taking up the entire settee. I’m sure that if I just walked around, it would feel better immediately.”
“You may walk once the doctor has seen it,” the duchess said serenely. She glanced at the housekeeper. “Pray pour Miss Balfour more tea. It will flush the bad humors from her system.”
Lily managed to swallow her protest as she caught the housekeeper’s knowing gaze. The teacup was refilled yet again and Lily took it with a murmur of thanks.
“Mrs. Cairness, could you bring another tea tray?” her grace asked. “Lady Charlotte and I haven’t had time to take tea, what with all of the other guests arriving, and then our concern when Miss Balfour went missing, and, oh dear, all manner of things.”
“Yes, yer grace.” The housekeeper dipped a curtsy and bustled out.
The duchess regarded Lily with a smile. “I daresay a young woman of high spirits like yourself is tired of being coddled, eh, Miss Balfour?”
“Yes. I’m not comfortable just sitting about.” She eyed Lady Charlotte’s knitting with a feeling akin to jealousy. Maybe Lily could send home for some cloth, or perhaps the housekeeper might have some odds and ends she’d be willing to part with. If I had a project, even a small, simple one, it would make me feel much more at home.
The duchess tsked. “I am so sorry you were given such an unruly mount. It is unconscionable, and I had a word with my head groom about it.”
“Oh no! Truly, it was not the groom’s fault, nor the horse’s. I’m not a confident rider and I allowed myself to get distracted. The fault is all mine.”
“It’s the groom’s duty to ascertain your skill and then to choose a mount within those parameters. The groom did not do so. It will not happen again.”
Lily wished to protest yet more, but the duchess’s sharp tone effectively closed the conversation. Lily forced a smile. She should never have gone on that ride. All it had accomplished was to get her tossed to the ground, cause a groom to receive an ill-deserved dressing-down from the duchess, and place Lily directly in the arms of an arrogantly sure-of-himself prince, whose absence was making her feel even more bereft and lonely.
Her grace picked up a particularly fat, graying pug and placed it in her lap, where it grunted happily. “I hope the prince treated you courteously.”
“Of course he did.” Lily was certain her face was as red as the pillow under her ankle. “He was very gentlemanly.” Except for plying her with enough compliments to make her feel oddly light-headed, and carrying her with such ease that she’d almost wished he’d never reached Floors.
The duchess sniffed. “I had some reservations about inviting Prince Wulfinski to my house party, but I can do little about it now, especially since we owe him some courtesies for assisting you.”
“I’m sorry my accident has caused you such distress,” Lily said sharply.
The duchess didn’t seem to notice Lily’s irritation. “It’s regrettable. And while you say the prince behaved himself, I can’t help but think that his attitude in striding into the house as if he’d saved the world from an invasion—well, I won’t stand for such theatrics.”
Lily blinked. “But all he did was carry me into the house.”
“Now, now.” The duchess patted Lily’s hand where it was fisted on her knee. “I’m sure you wish to speak in defense of your rescuer, but I cannot feel that his attitude was totally appropriate. Sadly, the prince isn’t staying under my roof, so I have no control over his actions when he’s not here. But when he is here, I shall expect his behavior to be exemplary.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Lily said stiffly. “And once again, let me assure you that the prince was everything kind.”
“Yes, dear,” Lady Charlotte said, her knitting needles clicking quietly while her bright gaze locked with Lily’s. “Our of curiosity, what did you and the prince find to converse about?”
“He told me about his grandmother—”
“A horrid woman,” Lady Charlotte interjected.
“I didn’t get the opportunity to meet her. We were on our way to his cottage when his men caught up with us.”
“Cottage?” The duchess smiled indulgently. “As his highness has seen Floors Castle, I’m sure his estate seems smallish to him, although I wouldn’t use the term ‘cottage.’ ”
Lily wondered how much land had come with the prince’s cottage. Perhaps it consisted of several acres. “The prince said he was the po—” She caught the suddenly intent gazes of both women and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but that’s not for me to repeat.”
The duchess leaned forward, her red wig slightly askew. “Of course it is! What did he say?”
Lily wasn’t sure why she felt she needed to protect the scant information she possessed about the prince. After all, she barely knew him. Furthermore, she didn’t suppose he’d told her anything that wasn’t easily discovered. “I don’t suppose it matters. He said he was the poorest of his brothers.”
“Ah! So he has no funds.” Lady Charlotte’s needles clacked along. “I’m not surprised. Europe is crawling with supposed princes, and not a farthing to be had between them.”
The duchess sniffed. “There would be more wealthy princes if foreigners didn’t breed like rabbits.”
Lady Charlotte agreed. “They should take after the English Crown; we have only one, perhaps two heirs to the throne at a time. It makes things so simple. Otherwise, what would one do with all of them? I suppose that’s why Prince Wulfinski is here; his family simply felt there were too many princes wandering about, and so they sent him off.”
“Perhaps.” The duchess shrugged, then glanced at the open doorway. Once she was satisfied that none of her guests were lingering in the foyer, she scooted her chair closer to Lily and said in a low tone, “My dear Miss Balfour, as we have a few moments, I should mention that your father wrote me a most interesting letter. I received it just this morning.”
Lily’s stomach sank. What has Papa done? “Papa wrote you?” Why would he do such a thing, unless—
“There’s no reason to look upset. He merely wished to thank me for attempting to help your family out of your predicament.”
Lily wished she could sink into the ground. “He told you everything?”
Her grace nodded.
“So tragic,” Lady Charlotte said. “Lord Kirk always seemed like such a gentleman, too. Or he was before his accident. I hear he’s horridly changed since then, and not just physically.”
“He’s a cold and calculating man,” Lily said. “Poor Papa didn’t have a chance.”
The duchess nodded in apparent sympathy. “I’ve had commerce with Lord Kirk before. A land purchase, I think it was. Your father is quite right in thinking that Kirk would never give him a respite on a debt owed. The man can be inflexible.”
Lady Charlotte tugged more yarn from her basket, frowning when she saw that it was tangled beneath a sleeping pug. She put out a slippered foot and nudged the dog out of the way. Its eyes opened slightly, but otherwise it gave no indication of moving. “It’s good that your father explained the depth of your predicament. Her grace and I suspected it, but now we know that you must marry a wealthy man and quickly.”
Face heated, Lily nodded. “I hate these circumstances.”
“Nonsense,” her grace said in a bracing tone. “It’s unladylike to pursue a career or even obtain a decent education, so what else is left us?”
“I—I cannot imagine marrying without love, but I suppose I must.”
“My dear, I’ve married no fewer than five times, all of them to men of great wealth, and all of my marriages have been for lov
e. There’s no reason you couldn’t do the same.”
Lily didn’t want to marry five times. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be married once. The pug at Lily’s side snuggled against her and she absently patted it. “I had no idea you’d been married so many times, your grace.”
“The first four passed away of natural causes; they were much older than I.” The duchess’s face softened. “They were great men, all of them, although I believe Roxburghe to be my true love. At least thus far.”
Lily wasn’t quite sure how to answer this, so she merely nodded.
“My point is this: you can indeed have a very passionate relationship with a wealthy man. All you have to do is give yourself the opportunity to fall in love with the right man.”
“It’s a shame there aren’t other opportunities available to women,” Lady Charlotte said, her round face folded in thought. “I do think I would have made an excellent butcher.”
Her grace turned a surprised look on her friend. “A butcher?”
“Oh yes. I saw pigs being butchered many times when I was a child.”
“But you were raised at Highclere Castle. I can scarcely believe they’d allow the daughter of the house to witness such a thing.”
Lady Charlotte knitted on serenely. “My father believed in the old ways. We cured our own ham, bacon—we were quite self-sufficient.”
“We do the same here, but not in full view of the daughter of the castle. Surely you weren’t encouraged to attend such bloody events?”
“Oh no, but I went anyway. It was quite interesting. First, they— Here, let me show you.” Lady Charlotte set her knitting aside and bent over to scoop up a pug. She settled it into her lap, then took a loop of yarn in one hand. “First, they’d throw a heavy rope about the pig’s back feet like so. And then they’d bash him in the head with a large wooden mallet right here.” She placed her finger between the pug’s eyes. “And then, once they were certain he was dead, they’d slash his throat right here—”
“Goodness!” The duchess snatched the pug from Lady Charlotte’s lap. “Meenie doesn’t like to hear about pigs and their slaughter.” The duchess hugged the dog, who yawned and then closed its eyes once again. “As I was saying, Miss Balfour, Lady Charlotte and I fully intend on helping you reach a satisfactory arrangement as soon as possible.” With that, the duchess began expounding upon the benefits of marriage in a way that made Lily almost ill to her stomach.