She had been so intent on his words that she had totally missed the approach of the prince until Lady Frederica touched her arm in warning.
“Wickham, introduce me to your friend.” The prince’s chiming voice was deep and smoky.
Wickham hesitated. “My lord, I am not altogether certain that is a wise idea under these circumstances.”
The prince narrowed his eyes. “I told you to introduce me to the mortal.”
“Very well,” said Wickham with a light but uneasy laugh. “My lord, permit me to present to you Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Miss Elizabeth, I find myself in the highly unusual position ofintroducing you to your own brother, Prince Aelfric.”
This was too much. Elizabeth had seen enough of Wickham’s trickery and games. “I do not know what you hope to accomplish by this,” she said frostily. “I have no brother, nor have I any connection to a prince of Faerie.”
Wickham wore an oddly uncomfortable expression. “Your mother’s first child was a boy.”
“Yes, and he died the day he was born. You and I spoke of this before. I even showed you his grave at the bottom of the orchard.”
The prince said haughtily, “I do not know who is buried in that grave. I was abandoned in a faerie ring, and I would have died of exposure had it not been for the mere chance of a dryad who happened to pass that way and found me.”
This story must be some odd form of fay mischief. “I do not know what you hope to gain from this, my lord. If I might state the obvious, my parents are mortals, and you, sir, are not.”
“Your mother, who is also mine, is mostly mortal. My father is King Oberon.” His voice was ice cold.
Elizabeth glared at him. “My parents were married at the time my brother was born.”
The prince’s long face took on an expression of puzzlement. “Why does that matter?”
Wickham said quickly, “My lord, by the laws and customs of England, a woman’s husband is considered the father of all her children, even if he has not been in her presence for more than a year. By fay custom, the father is the one...”
“The father is he who begot the child upon the mother,” said the prince without a hint of embarrassment. “How could it be otherwise?”
“Very well, I understand your meaning, but I still say it is ridiculous and this is some sort of trickery.” Elizabeth barely managed to remain civil.
The prince looked down his nose at her. “I tell you it is the truth, and Sidhe do not lie.”
With a fawning smile, Wickham said, “Miss Elizabeth, you and I are both accustomed to mortals who bend the truth easily, sometimes for no better reason than their own amusement. The Sidhe can be mischievous and cunning, but not untruthful.”
It was true, at least according to her untrustworthy memories. The Sidhe always told the truth. Elizabeth rubbed her arms. She had to calm herself. “I cannot know if you are who you say you are. Clearly you believe it, as does Mr. Wickham, but I remember seeing my mother cry over my brother’s grave. She would sneak out of the house at night and be found there in the morning, shivering, with her nightdress damp with dew. That is not the behavior of a woman who abandoned her child.”
The prince stared at her in silence.
Frederica said slowly, “Is it possible your mother truly believed her son had died and was buried in that grave?”
Prince Aelfric’s expression became shuttered. “You believe someone else left me in the ring and lied to my mother? Her husband, perhaps?”
“It seems a possibility, my lord,” said Frederica.
“And who are you?”
Frederica ducked her chin and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “You may call me Marigold Meadowsweet.”
“Marigold Meadowsweet, Wickham, leave us,” the prince commanded.
Frederica swept a curtsy that encompassed both Elizabeth and the prince. “Libbet, should you need me, you have only to call.” Then she left, accompanied by Wickham, leaving Elizabeth alone with the glowering prince who hated humans and might be her brother.
This was not what was supposed to happen during this visit. She should be safely back in the Dower House at Rosings, having had a briefconversation with Titania. How had everything spiraled so far out of control?
“Why does she call you Libbet?” he demanded.
“That is what Titania has always called me.” It could do no harm to remind him she was under the queen’s protection.
