Page 4 of A Tenuous Betrothal
“And I have not either.”
She breathed out in relief.
“I know you see me as the enemy, but someone has to view these mines as a business. We are here to make money, to ensure the incomes of hundreds of workers and their families. Risks must be taken.”
She shook her head. “No amount of wealth—”
“Yes, Rhianna. Yes, you’ve returned.” He flicked his fingers again, as though finished with the previous conversation. “I knew you wouldn’t stay away with mention of an addendum, though I cannot say whether I am pleased or displeased to see you.” He gestured to the servants. “Leave us.”
She turned to watch Barnby and Mrs. Fenniwick leave and called out, “But the door can remain cracked open, if you please.” Rhi smiled when they left it open considerably more than a crack.
“Servants talk.” Uncle frowned.
“If you trust them, then you trust their talk.” Rhi knew they would watch out for her. She could feel it. And good servants though they were, she admitted to herself that they might not be as loyal to her uncle as they were to her.
“That is neither here nor there. Come. Sit. I’m sure you’ll find this very interesting.” He reached for the sheets of paper that sat in front of him.
She sat in the chair beside him, trying to see the papers, but he held them up close before he shrugged and then handed the lot to her. “You’ll have to make sense of this because I don’t believe I totally understand, myself.”
The oddest thing her uncle could have said had just left his lips, and she had to study his face a moment more. Was he feeling compassion for her?
A small worry festered, but her father’s words at first seemed unremarkable. And then comforting.In view of our great love for our daughter and desire for her safekeeping...She read on. The legal jargon sounded similar to that of the original will. She glanced at the top.Addendum.“Why wasn’t I shown this earlier?”
“Oh please, read it in its entirety first, and then we can discuss details.”
“Very well.” She continued.
When I was much younger, I met a man at Oxford who would become one of my dearest friends. He had come for a year to learn in our country and left at the end of his time. We communicated by mail when we could and even made efforts to visit one another, though he lived in Oldenburg and I here in Wales. At one point, he heard I was ill and nearly dying so he made arrangements to visit me. I bettered and was well enough to go riding by the time he arrived, but during that visit, we made a pact, the details of which are outlined in this addendum. I sent a copy with him and asked that another copy be included in my will and remain with my solicitor.
Rhi narrowed her eyes and looked at her uncle, who remained placidly watching her. She controlled her breathing and returned to the papers.
Rhi, my darling, if you are reading this, it is because I have left this earth without seeing you happily married or provided for. During that visit I mentioned, my dear friend pledged to me one of his sons in marriage to you. My friend is not just any man in his country. He is their king. This is a great honor, which you might be shocked to hear in this moment, but I ask that you trust your father and accept the great gift of security, companionship, and indeed, an entirely new home. True, it is not Wales, I know you are thinking. It is not Carmarthenshire. But that falls to your uncle now. Do what you can with the power you wield to leave things in good stead and then go with the prince to Oldenburg.
Her gaze shot up to Uncle’s. “Prince?”
“Enter.” Her uncle waved a hand, and the door was opened by a servant Rhi thought was supposed to be absent. In stepped a tall man. She rose slowly, trying to keep everything in her body from shaking, swallowing back the sharpness in her throat. She could not deny that the written words in the addendum sounded exactly like her father. But could someone have forged them? Was this some grand trick of her uncle’s to at last be rid of her? She glanced at the paper. She scanned the top of the page, and at the bottom, below their coat of arms, her father had added a line with a rising sun. Her eyes blurred. She resisted hugging the paper to her, to cherish that sun. Hope.There is always hope.The words echoed in her mind, in her father’s voice.
Her uncle stood beside her. “Miss Rhianna Davies, might I introduce your betrothed?”
Every part of her stiffened, but then, she noticed, so did the man’s. A certain satisfaction strengthened her. Neither of them was overly used to the idea of marrying a stranger.
Her uncle continued slowly, as though lengthening out the whole introduction was giving him pleasure. “Prince Marc Wilhelm of Oldenburg.”
The prince bowed in such a gallant manner, Rhi was almost of a mind to be pleased with him. His hair was thick and dark and fell only slightly forward, as if becoming totally disheveled would be most unexpected. His eyes, when glancing back into her own, were piercing and perceptive—too perceptive—but emotionless at the moment, except perhaps for the tiniest bit of camaraderie or forbearance... or pity.
Her indignation flared inside her into something much stronger. She curtsied, then rose. “I welcome you to our”—she choked—“my uncle’s home.” She pressed her lips together. “I hope your journey was smooth?”
“Yes, it was. Thank you.” His voice was velvety-sounding, deep. She could enjoy a voice such as his. It wasn’t as raspy or rough as those of the workers or the servants or other men in the area, though she knew precious few outside of those two groups. It was neither oily like her uncle’s nor older and comforting like her father’s. It was at once exciting and strengthening. If he weren’t standing here to take her from Wales, she would find it pleasant indeed.
She held out her hand. “Please, be seated.” Falling back on manners gave her space to manage the torrent that raged inside her. Father had arranged a marriage for her, long before his death. And never once mentioned a thing about it.
The prince cleared his throat. “If I may?”
She nodded.
“I noticed your question remains unanswered.” He studied her uncle, but when the odious man offered no explanation, Prince Marc continued. “I arrived here yesterday with the addendum in hand. My father received news of your father’s death and the same afternoon sent me to journey here.” If the prince had feelings on the matter, he carefully concealed them. “I myself became apprised of the contents of the letter just moments ago.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You did not know you were to be arranged in marriage?” She swallowed. “To me?”
