Page 75 of A Tenuous Betrothal
“And why are you all so eligible? Are none of you courting?”
“Not right now. Honestly, we thought Marc would be the last of us to go.” He snorted. “The rest of us are not opposed to a courtship, and we do hold an affinity for English women, by the way. You will likely have your pick.”
“Oh, this is intriguing. Marc here has told me only of the women I might befriend.” Perhaps she shouldn’t, but she was having a glorious, revenge-ridden time teasing Marc.
“Well, that is understandable, considering.” He waved his hand over the whole of Marc, who continued to frown. “However, you really had best be aware of the men.” Kristoff patted her hand. “And I am available any time you need to sort it all out.”
“Thank you.” She laughed. “You are the most jolly of the bunch, I assume?”
“I am.”
This time, it was Marc who snorted.
“Though, in London, Marc and I were viewed equally in that regard.”
“Marc? Jolly?”
Kristoff cupped his hand far from her ear, as if to whisper. “Yes, when he isn’t... brooding”—her laugh carried over the water, encouraging the smallest smile from Marc, and Kristoff waved his hand—“or, you know, concerned for his life and limb, he is a jolly, teasing, laughing chap.”
“I suppose someone has to bear the weight of it all,” Rhi said.
“Too true. And Marc bears it well.” Kristoff clicked his tongue. “But sometimes, it’s my job to lighten things up for him.”
Rhi wondered how accurate that was. She stood between two of the finest men she’d ever known. And Henri was equally wonderful. Were all the Wilhelm brothers truly of this same stature?
She knew none of them could hold a candle to Marc.
But if he refused to have her...
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next day, Marc determinedhe would not hover about Rhi in such a lovesick way. He would begin today to treat her how he’d always planned to once they arrived in Oldenburg, which meant she was just like every other woman—just a friend. He choked up inside at that thought. From now on he must be the Marc he needed to be for the security of Oldenburg and even Europe.
He knew from the correspondence Kristoff had brought with him that he had work to do. Prussian dignitaries needed an escort to travel to Vienna, and Russia hoped for added security as well. He wasn’t certain how he felt about Russia. Their plans to increase their borders might seem deserved, but giving one country too much opportunity was what had created problems with France in the first place. One power could not be permitted to gain too much strength over the others.
But the biggest risk, the one that kept him from moving forward with Rhi or anything else in his personal life, was the underground organization trying desperately to put Napoleon back in power.
They were nothing to take lightly. Only his father and Hayes were equally aware of how close the organization had come to Oldenburg borders during this past year, how Marc had found one of its members inside Oldenburg, trying to create havoc. And then there was the assassination attempt, or at least, Marc was almost certain it had been one: a man had been discovered near his quarters, armed. It could be no coincidence that it had happened on the very morning he was to escort the ambassador from France to the Vienna Congress. And that attempted robbery in London. He knew London to be a place riddled with robbers and highwaymen, but he’d not given up the thought that his would-be robbers could have been connected with the other incidents. Regardless of their origin, it was that attempted robbery that had reminded Marc of his duty, of the dangers of his life. In a sick sort of way, he should be grateful.
He finished getting ready for the day, his valet tying his cravat extra tightly for some reason. “Must this be so restrictive?”
“Begging your pardon, Your Highness.” The valet held up a mirror. “You have a little more room around your neck than usual.”
Marc looked in the mirror and saw that he was correct. “Did you do that on purpose?”
“Give you extra room?” His valet smiled. “I did.”
“Smart man.” Marc put the mirror down. “Today is a big day.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Marc left but then didn’t know where to go. Typically, he would immediately find Rhi, but today he must avoid her.
“Land ho!” the barrelman shouted from the crow’s nest.
Marc picked up his feet at a run to go see it with Rhi, but then he stopped. “No,” he told himself. He must give her space. Let her have this moment with others, with his brothers. Marc gritted his teeth. He would miss the look on her face when she saw his home for the first time. “No,” he repeated, though for a different reason. His feet took him almost unwillingly, almost desperately, to her side. He was too weak to resist her. And he was rewarded on arrival. She stared with rapt attention toward the growing sliver of land, her hair falling down all around her, her face alight with hope.
“Do you see it?”
