Page 37 of A Tenuous Betrothal
Rhi sat at breakfast, surroundedby all the newspapers she’d found in the house. The letter from Mrs. Powell had been concerning indeed, and thoughts of her dear friends, the workers, the mines, and her detestable uncle stole her peace, plaguing her. The workers were in danger. Uncle had opened the forbidden passageways, the very ones her father had shut down because they were too narrow, because they were a hazard, because the air quality was poor, and because the lamps were an explosion risk in those shafts. For those many reasons and more, her father had seen fit to put the safety of the workers first.
And yet Mrs. Powell had written that they were now opened, despite Rhi and her father’s wishes, and more. Uncle had also assigned the women to be putters, to crawl along tiny passageways with ropes tied around their waists, dragging heavy loads in carts behind them. They would be the first to die; Rhi was sure of it. Mrs. Powell would be the first to go. Rhi’s gut clenched, and she returned her attention to the newspapers.
One timely article at the back of theLondon Gazettehad intrigued her greatly. A new kind of lamp, a Davy lamp, which would not be flammable in the mines, had been invented. She had immediately asked Sophie for paper and a quill and ink so she could pen letters to Mr. Thomas, to Mrs. Powell, and even to her uncle.
But she soon set the article aside. Besides the news of the lanterns, nothing in the papers was of use to her mining crises, and nothing distracted her enough to put her mind at ease.
Mrs. Powell’s letter had her wishing to return to Wales, and a new thought about her situation began to form. What if she could marry wealthy enough that she could return and make more of a difference there?
But, as her uncle had so curtly reminded her, even if she were there, he would still be in charge. She pressed her lips together. Still, if she married well, she would surely have more influence than she had alone.
Now, more than ever, she needed to marry a man who would support her efforts, a man with enough wealth and influence to protect the workers in her father’s mines. Lord Carmine seemed interested in her. And if Prince Marc was correct, others might be willing to align themselves with her. She would have to do her best to find a good match. It was the only option open to her at the moment to protect those she loved, the only real family she had left.
She’d worked up enough of a plan, along with some grit and determination, that by the time Sophie entered the room, she was in much better spirits.
“You look lovely in the morning.” Sophie smiled. She had a certain glow about her as well.
“So do you.” Rhi smiled back.
“We must eat quickly and then begin preparations for the ball. I’ve invited an instructor for our maids. They are going to try a new hairstyle from France. No one has been able to master it yet, but you have the perfect hair for it.”
“I miss this,” Rhi said as she relaxed into Sophie’s cheerful optimism. “I haven’t had a friend in my life or reason to dress so nicely since before Mother passed.” She shrugged. “This is nice.”
“I’ve missed it too.” Sophie grinned. She placed a few items on her breakfast plate, took a seat at the table, and then pulled the papers closer. “Let’s look at the fashion plates.”
“Oh yes! I didn’t think to look.”
“You are similar to Elsie,” Sophie said.
Pleased to be similar to someone so close to her new friend, Rhi’s heart warmed. “Is this the dearest friend you mentioned, who married one of Prince Marc’s brothers?”
“The very one.” Sophie shrugged. “She will be the queen of Oldenburg.”
“Oh, goodness. And I remind you of her?”
“Yes, you friends of Oldenburg have a way about you. Bartholomew and I have talked about it. You are independent, strong, and pleasant. He says I’m the same. Perhaps that’s why you and I get on so well. Bartholomew said Prince Marc invited us to travel back to Oldenburg with him, and I have so badly wanted to go there and see Elsie.”
Rhi didn’t quite know what to say. She was being spoken of as a friend of Oldenburg, and she liked the sound of that. So she did not correct Sophie. Rhi was here with the prince, was she not? Her father and the king had been particular friends, had they not? She smiled. Then she and Prince Marc were as well.
They were deep into the fashion plates printed in the paper when Prince Marc joined them. Although Rhi did not look up, she knew the minute he entered the room. And she knew his eyes were on her, so she continued her laughs with Sophie, hoping he would enjoy them.
Sophie mentioned him first. “Prince Marc. Good morning. Do have some breakfast. We are almost finished here, but don’t let our womanly fancies frighten you.” She glanced at Rhi and then giggled.
Rhi loved her and couldn’t help but smile.
When she at last looked in Prince Marc’s direction, his expression was breath-stopping. His eyes were intense, his mouth quirked up in one corner, his look full of appreciation, admiration, perhaps even pure interest in her. For a moment, she truly didn’t know how to start breathing again. When she did, it happened in a soft gasp, which she could not hide and did not try to.
Prince Marc dipped his head in her direction and then made his way over to the food.
“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sophie’s whisper in her ear puzzled as much as it surprised Rhi.
“Like what?”
“So... besotted.” She shook her head. “Perhaps it is time for us to take ourselves to the dressing rooms. You are going to be beautiful in your new gown.”
“I cannot believe it is finished.” The modiste had rushed a part of their order.
“Thank heavens the one you most desired was already half-finished.”
