Page 5 of A Tenuous Betrothal
“I did not.” His face was expressionless. She wished she had an inkling of how willing this man was to take her on as his wife. For her part, she had no desire to be wed to a stranger.
But first things first.
She repeated her question from earlier, “Uncle, is there a reason the addendum was not read with the rest of the will?”
“It was your father’s wish that the prince in question should deliver the addendum himself. I did not know the contents myself until earlier today.”
She looked from one man to the other. Now that her confusion was partly cleared, the reality started to sink in. She stood and walked to the window, so full of energy, she barely resisted running out onto the grounds. “And what if I do not wish to leave Wales?” She could almost feel her uncle oozing with desire for her to be gone. She whirled around to face him. “What will happen to the workers, the miners, the families, if I leave?”
“I imagine the exact same things that would happen were you to stay.” He adjusted his sleeves. “Your father left the whole of it in my hands, not yours.”
The prince cleared his throat. “There is the last paragraph to consider.”
Uncle’s face reddened.
“Last paragraph?” Rhi lifted the paper and skimmed to the bottom, to the part she had not read. She’d assumed it would be full of legal explanations, but apparently there was something of interest. After she read it, she found it interesting indeed. “It seems I am to pack my trunks with all things in the house of personal value to me and ensure that the workers and their families are cared for, and it particularly mentions my mother’s jewels.” She stared her uncle down.
He shifted twice in his chair before answering. “So it does.”
“And I’m to leave Cresselly?” The question weighing in the air felt heavy. She stepped closer to Prince Marc. “And what is your opinion of these proceedings?”
The camaraderie she’d guessed at in his expression grew. And did she see the tiniest wink? He turned to her uncle. “My opinion is that we move forward, carrying out your father’s wishes exactly as he hoped.”
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, for she was not ready to get on a ship to Oldenburg.
But Prince Marc faced her again in a spirit of camaraderie. “Starting with the bits about caring for the workers and their families and gathering any items of personal value to you.”
She closed her mouth and nodded slowly, then turned to Uncle. “Yes. So, if you please, Prince Marc and I will engage the servants to do just that.”
Uncle’s face turned a darker red, but all he did was nod, which Rhi found increasingly odd. But when she turned to the prince, she was surprised that the room had filled with men in different livery, of purple and gold.
“Might I introduce my men?” Prince Marc nodded to her, the tiniest twitch of a smile on his lips.
“I’m so pleased to meet them.” She bit back a laugh, but the sudden exhilarated giddiness that filled her was difficult to suppress.
Her father had not forgotten her. He had not left her friendless. On the contrary, he’d sent for a royal prince and his men—an army—from another country to see that her father’s wishes, as well as hers, were carried out.
She stood closer to Prince Marc once more. “Thank you for this.”
“This part is simple enough.” He clenched his jaw.
Too true. And what of the next part? She didn’t want to think about that quite yet, but as far as she knew, there was nothing forcing her to board his ship. The addendum provided an opportunity, her father’s last wishes for her, and she honored and respected him—she trusted him—but at the same time, nothing required her to follow his requests.
Chapter Two
Marc Wilhelm distracted himself fromthis most unwanted new assignment by first helping Miss Davies retrieve everything she wished from her father’s house. He knew a weaselly man when he met one, and her uncle was just that. But with a little insistence, every coward was easily persuaded.
The presence of Marc’s men helped, naturally, but so also did the knowledge the addendum gave Miss Davies and himself about her father’s wishes. And every member of the household staff seemed willing to lend their aid. The housekeeper and butler oversaw the whole process and dutifully followed their mistress.
Two portraits of Miss Davies’s parents had instantly made a reappearance in the main hall. During one moment, while going through her family’s things and filling several trunks, she turned to Marc. “My uncle has hidden the jewels. I cannot abide them in his grasping hands. My aunt has passed, so he has no need of them except to sell them. I’d sooner gift them to the workers in the mines than leave them here with him.”
“Where might he be keeping them?”
Mrs. Fenniwick stepped closer and spoke in an undertone. “In his room. He has a safe in there, and I’ve also heard tell of him hiding valuables in the mattress.” She straightened herself and pasted a blank expression on her face before bustling back out of the room.
Marc laughed. “She’s a gem. You don’t suppose she’d like to join us?”
Miss Davies sighed, looking fondly after her housekeeper. “If only she would.” She turned back to him. “I do appreciate this grand rescue. I thought my father had forgotten me. This”—she cleared her throat—“this proves other-wise.” She frowned. “It means more than I can ever express, but this is my home. I don’t like leaving any of it—the servants, my things, the workers. They need someone to speak for them, don’t they?”
