Page 67 of A Tenuous Betrothal
“I am glad you’ve dispensed with the formality of using my title.” The words left without his directing them, but the more intimate sound of just his name on her lips was too pleasant and distracting from his determination to give them space and time.
“Oh?” She grinned. “Your Most Royal Highness...” She leaned back, too amused at her simple joke.
He laughed. “I just told you—”
“I’m only having a bit of fun. And you may call me Rhianna. Or Rhi.” He smiled at that, and she reached forward and took his hand, sending him a shower of intensity that he was not expecting. “But, Marc, I do not wish to be a burden to you. I cannot bear to think you are acting only out of obligation. I do not wish for a marriage that way. I don’t even wish for a friendship that way. Do you suppose all your brothers will view me as an obligation?”
Her hand now clinging to his was doing things to him. Her insecurity was doing things to him. His protective instincts were ignited in such a powerful way that he was afraid of his next words. He shook his head and placed a hand over hers. “No one would ever be daft enough to think a marriage to you would be merely an obligation.” His eyes stared into hers, allowing some of his feeling to show. “But I understand your concern. And you shall have your wish. Father must understand when we tell him, and if he doesn’t, Mother will, and she will talk sense into him.” There. He’d sounded unemotional when all his insides raged with the need to assist her, to be with her, to protect her; he’d sounded almost... indifferent. Which was how he should sound.
Rhi didn’t look completely convinced, but she sat up straighter. “Just promise me that no matter what your father says, be he king or not, you won’t propose unless you wish to marry me for the right reasons.”
“And what are those?”
Her cheeks colored prettily again, and he knew that, were he free to do so, he’d do a lot to be able to often see her blush. She seemed to consider carefully her next words. He almost held his breath, as the answer had suddenly become more important than air to him.
“If you were to propose, I would hope it to mean you cannot live another day without me at your side.” They were very close now. He’d not realized until that moment. Her words were now a whisper. “That you love me. You trust me.” She stopped abruptly, like she might have said more, but that was enough. Even as she spoke the words, he knew he was well on his way there. The wordlovehad slipped out so easily to his brothers.
It took all his will to simply respond, “Agreed. I promise.”
She now at last looked satisfied.
Kristoff and Henri joined them then. “Did you save any food?” Kristoff sat next to Rhi, who released Marc’s hand. Without awaiting an answer to his first question, Kristoff asked, “How did you sleep?”
That seemed an incredibly intimate question, but Marc bit his tongue.
“Well, and you?” Rhi’s welcoming smile for his brothers was open and relaxed.
“Wonderful. Though at an unearthly hour, someone was opening and closing their doors, and being awake myself, I lay there wondering where you went.” He laughed but eyed Rhi as if seeking an answer.
She colored again, and Marc bristled. “You heard her?”
“I did.”
“And you didn’t rise to escort her?”
“Well, no. I assumed, and rightly so, that when the time came, she would be down here at breakfast, safe and sound, when I wished to eat.” Unconcerned, he filled his plate, saying nothing more.
Marc was annoyed that his brother hadn’t seen fit to ensure Rhi’s safety, but he also couldn’t regret that he’d had the pleasure of escorting her down himself. He wouldn’t reveal Rhi’s secret. No one need know they had almost lost her again. He’d have to keep an eye on her, be aware of her feelings, and keep her close—for the voyage, at least.
They ate and made companionable conversation, and soon, Kristoff and Henri had Rhi laughing to tears about one of Henri’s failed experiments.
“You would think that our Henri here is all brains and no creativity, but no, he’s the one we most like to talk to in the whole bunch.” Kristoff clapped him on the back.
Marc had to agree. “I do enjoy Henri’s company more than most.” He eyed Kristoff. “But don’t you think Rhi will much prefer our Aribella and Elsie?”
The brothers exchanged a look, and Marc inwardly begged them not to make mention of the informal use of her name.
“Of course, and Mother. She will adore Mother. They are much alike, are they not?” Kristoff looked from Marc to Rhi and back.
“I have thought so as well.”
Rhi’s smile grew. “I’m happy to hear that. I do long to meet everyone. And thank you for taking me in. I have felt a bit like a lost orphan. Oh, that’s because I am.” She raised a cup. “To lost orphans.”
“You seem very much more like afoundorphan.” Marc lifted his cup. “To found orphans.”
“Found it is, then.” She smiled and raised her cup once more to his. The others joined them and everyone drank. Marc rested a hand over hers again and then stood. “I, for one, wish to return to London, grab our things, and hop on a ship to Oldenburg. Our glorious shores await.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
