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‘You don’t know what you’re asking for,’ he said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. It was tempting to walk over and drown himself in more drink, but that had never been his poison of choice, no matter what the tabloids liked to write about him. Now, drowning himself in her... He shut his errant thoughts down.
‘Yes, I do. My parents...’ she took a deep breath, as if she were fortifying herself for something ‘...I suspect they want me to marry.’
He stilled. A vision of Victoria’s face swam into his head. Pale as her bridal whites, walking down the cathedral aisle on her wedding day. A tense smile, her eyes moist, shot at him as she’d neared the altar. He’d made a half-hearted offer to bundle her into a car and drive her away. To ignore what their parents wanted. But he’d joked about it and she hadn’t realised how serious he’d been. Then again, he’d also neglected to investigate the exalted man they’d chosen for her. If he’d asked even a few questions he’d have discovered her future husband was not someone who should be allowed near women. He’d failed to extricate her from a terrible situation, one he feared became worse as each blighted year passed. But no. None of this was his business. Attempt to help and he’d fail again. It was better that Sara stood up for herself.
‘You’ve just escaped one marriage. They’ve tried that before. It ended in disaster. And you’re still in mourning, if your black clothes are anything to go by.’
‘That doesn’t matter to them... Our dance. They said I was running wild, that what I did was disgraceful...’
Lance barked out a laugh. ‘A dance—disgraceful? Your parents have no idea.’ The hypocrisy of it, when they were happy to offer their daughter to all and sundry, was astonishing.
‘They say I’m to work on the man’s art collection but, from the way they keep hinting, Iknowit’s more. And the man they want for me...he looks like a toad.’ She glanced up at him in a shy kind of way from behind veiled lashes, reminding him of how truly innocent she was. ‘You don’t. You’re not toad-like at all.’
That admission of hers, in that hesitant voice, sent a sinuous curl of desire through him once more. He ignored it, knowing no good would come of this. ‘Maybe you’ll turn him into a prince with a kiss.’
She crossed her arms and glared at him. ‘That only works with frogs.Nottoads. And I don’t want aprince.’
The words were left hanging in the air, unspoken.I want you.He ignored every inclination to give in to temptation.
‘I don’t see how a supposed scandal is going to help.’
‘You know how it is here. People like him, they want someone above reproach. If I’m not... But look.’ She ran over to her bag and rummaged around. Pulled out a large blue velvet box and opened it. Inside sat the exquisite amethysts and diamonds of an antique parure, the fat gemstones glittering in the natural light. ‘I can pay you if you help me.’
Little shocked him, but this rendered him close to speechless. ‘What the hell are you asking?’ He’d never been offered payment before. It made him feel as grubby as he pretended to be. Lance grabbed the box from her and closed the lid. Thrust it back towards her. ‘They’re not part of the Crown Jewels, are they?’
Sara shook her head, took back her jewels. ‘My twenty-first birthday present. But I don’t wear the parure, since I loathe purple.’
‘You loathe purple?’ He snorted a mocking laugh. When he’d glimpsed her in the foyer he’d had high hopes, but now they’d descended into farce. ‘I have money of my own. How do you think I’m in the Presidential Suite?’
She at least had the good grace to blush. ‘I thought you said you needed to replenish the family coffers, what with all the gambling.’
He gritted his teeth. Hissed the words through them. ‘My father quite successfully rehabilitated the Astill name and fortune...’ through canny politics and beneficially marrying off his only daughter ‘...and I’m sure all our ancestors, rakes and wastrels as they were, are rolling in their graves in horror. I’ve come along to rectify his errors, not continue them. And I certainly don’t take money from women for my services. I will not sleep with you.’
She looked up at him, her eyes big and bright with unshed tears. ‘You won’t help me?’
‘No means no, even in Lauritania. I suggest you try using the word on your parents.’
‘I have, once before. When I found out Ferdinand didn’t love me.’ Sara gave a shaky laugh. ‘I’m not sure he even liked me. I told them and it didn’t matter. All that mattered to them was me being Queen one day. The power they’d gain. And they want it now.’
‘You’re looking for a hero, Sara.’ She wasn’t his responsibility. He’d failed at caring for anything, cultivated by years of selfishness. ‘I’m not that man. I never was.’
‘I need to leave the country and I don’t really have money of my own.’ She bent down and picked up her bag. Placing her hat on her head, she asked, ‘How much do you think the parure is worth?’
‘For the complete set, about fifty thousand euros, give or take.’
‘Then I’ll sell it. I’m sure there’s someone who’ll take it.’
‘A shark might, for a quarter of that.’
‘I understand. I’ll go.’ She hitched the bag high on her shoulder. He didn’t want her to leave. She couldn’t stay. ‘Thank you for your time, Your Grace.’
The words hung bitter in the air, mocking him, as she no doubt knew they would.
‘Sara.’
She walked to the door, turned and looked up at him with brimming blue eyes. ‘It’s fine. I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
It’ll be fine, Lance.Victoria had said those words too, moments prior to agreeing to her engagement, which had been beneficial to everyone bar the woman herself. He should have done more to stop her. To convince her to ignore their parents and refuse. But Vic had been the good child. Sweet and kind...once. Full of life, riding her beloved horses and caring for any orphaned or abandoned creatures she found. But not now. All the life and caring in her had bled away. She’d done what had been asked of her when Lance had refused a political marriage. And nothing about her life had been fine since.
