Page 50 of Always a Princess

“I’d rather have a husband who is a little afraid of me than be afraid of him,” Sophia said. Then she added, “I think he’s shy. He studies philosophy. His parents have passed on. He has a good fortune. Father is happy. I don’t know what more I could hope for under the circumstances.”

“Love,” Thea said.

Sophia shrugged. “We shall see. He seems kind, and that is a good start, is it not?”

“It is. It truly is,” Thea agreed.

Hope welled within her.

They can both have love. It is possible.

“And what of you, Thea? Are you happy?” Louisa asked.

At the same time, Sophia said, “Do you find it unbelievable you married a younger man?”

“What?” Thea was dumbstruck for a moment. “Younger man?”

“I heard Prince Alexander is only twenty-seven.” Sophia paused. “You didn’t know?”

“That can’t be true.”

“You didn’t know.” Sophia gasped. “Oh my. Well, clearly, he doesn’t care. He must be so in love with you. We heard he paid Madam Celine five times the price to finish your wedding gown in time. All of town is talking about it.”

Thea had had no idea—about any of it.

“Dearie”—Great-Aunt Albina put a hand on her shoulder—“take the advice of an old woman. Age is just a number. A good man is priceless. Don’t worry about what people are saying. You’re living a fairy tale. Enjoy every moment.” Her Scots accent came through, and Thea took her words to heart.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“Just like you didn’t tell everyone you’d been a princess before?”

“Touché.”

“Will we see you again before you go to Russia?” Louisa asked.

“I hope so.” She turned to Great-Aunt Albina. “Would Uncle let you call on me at the estate?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We will find a way. Now, send a servant for that prince husband of yours. It’s your wedding day, dearie. You have important business to attend to.”

Both girls giggled.

“It will be your turn next,” Thea said.

“And I, for one, am fully on board with being kidnapped off to Gretna Green by Mr. Beaumont,” Louisa said with a smile.

“Do you feel better now?” Alexander asked her as the carriage pulled away from the alley.

“Yes, remarkably. Thank you for arranging that.” Then she remembered what Sophia had said. “How old are you?”

His broad grin was all the answer she needed. “Someone told you.”

Thea sucked in a breath. “It can’t be true.”

“How old did they say I am?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Next week.”