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Elizabeth hesitated. “Yes. But not in the way you might hope.”
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bsp; “In other words, he’s not prepared to marry you.” Her father was glowering.
“No, Daddy,” she said, smiling gently. “It’s the other way around. I’m the one who won’t marry him.”
“Does this man have a name you’d like to share with us?” her mother asked. “If you’d rather not, I suppose we can accept that.”
Elizabeth couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less, but she knew there was no point in hiding it. The truth would come out sooner or later. Sooner probably, if she knew Rafe. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that this was anything but a successful skirmish in what looked to be a long siege.
“He has a name,” she said reluctantly. “You know him.”
“The Prince of Thortonburg,” her father said.
“Yes. Although he goes by Rafe Thorton these days.” She looked at him in surprise. “Has he already spoken to you?”
“No, but it makes sense,” her father said. “That young man couldn’t shake his royal title fast enough to suit him. When he told me you’d be staying with him, it seemed out of character.”
“Raphael.” Her mother smiled. “I always did like his spirit. Victor never succeeded in training that one to his ridiculously outdated notions of aristocratic conduct.”
“He didn’t know who I was when we…when we… met.” Her face felt hot again, and the disappointment in her mother’s eye didn’t help.
“I see,” the Queen said.
“He was upset at first,” Elizabeth confessed. “As you said, he doesn’t have a very high opinion of royalty. But once he’d gotten over the shock, he decided we would get married.”
“And that’s a problem for you?” her mother asked in a soft voice. She stood and came around behind the chair, setting her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders and rubbing gently.
“I don’t want to be married out of duty.”
“Is that the only reason he wants to marry you?”
Elizabeth shrugged and avoided the question. “This is all Serena’s fault. She’s the one who talked me into tracking him down and telling him.”
Her father turned from the window. “Coming from Serena, that was amazingly sensible.” But his voice was indulgent and he was smiling. Serena had been a handful since the day she was born. Every silver hair in his head could be attributed to her, he’d said more than once.
“Daddy…” She hesitated, feeling ridiculous for even asking the question when she knew the answer. Still… “Rafe has some notion that you and his father arranged, or at least promised, that he’d marry one of us. I told him it’s not true.” But she knew her eyes were asking her father for the truth.
Phillip shook his head. “Victor hounded me about that for years. I always told him that I’d never oppose a match if one of my daughters chose either of his sons. As you said, it’s not true.” The King hesitated. “Does Thortonburg understand the manner in which the Wynborough crown is passed on?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I—I’m not sure.”
Her mother clucked her tongue. “You’d better be sure, dear. If this child is the first-born grandson to the King—”
“I know.” Elizabeth linked her fingers. “I know.”
The King moved to the side of Elizabeth’s chair and bent to press a kiss to her cheek. “I have an appointment with the Minister of Public Works, but when I return I want to be filled in completely.”
As he rose, a commotion in the hallway had them all turning. Trained to react instantly to threatening situations, the guard on duty slammed the door shut. As he did so, Elizabeth could see him drawing the gun from his holster.
Then she recognized the voice echoing down the hall, though it had an imperious quality that she’d never associated with it before. “…Thortonburg and I’m going to be marrying the Princess Elizabeth, so do not tell me they’re unavailable. I’ll search every damned room of this palace if I have to.”
She half rose from her chair, but the King moved faster. Throwing open the door to the room, he spoke at the top of his considerable voice. “The Prince of Thortonburg is welcome. Put away your arms, everyone. Thank you for your vigilance, though in this instance it isn’t necessary.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. If Rafe had wanted a demonstration of the ridiculous lengths her father went to with security, she couldn’t have provided a better one if he’d specifically asked.
When she opened her eyes again, he was there, striding into the room. Bigger, as always, than she remembered and looking as totally furious as she’d ever seen him. His expression today made his face the day he’d found her by her broken-down rental car look almost friendly.
