How to Pursue a Princess (26 page)

He looked at her approvingly. “I told Emma this morning that one of the things I like best about you is your pragmatic nature. I knew you were such a woman the first time I met you.”

She wondered uneasily how one looked “pragmatic.” “Huntley, I’m just curious, but . . .” She turned to face him. “What do you think about romantic gestures?”

His brows rose. “What sort of romantic gestures?”

“Oh, you know . . . climbing into a window or up a trellis or—”

“Hold. How is climbing up a trellis or into a window ‘romantic’?”

“Well . . . if you did it because you wished to speak to someone and there was no other way, then it could be romantic.”

“Hardly. That sort of behavior is exactly what I was talking about. I can’t imagine how anyone would find it romantic to be forced to witness such foolhardy, crass behavior.”

“Crass?”

“Yes, crass.” He caught her expression and he laughed softly. “Oh, I see. You read such a scene in a book, didn’t you, and thought it excessively romantic? I’m sure it is—on paper. But in real life, would you really applaud someone for being so careless with your good name? I think not.”

“It sounds as if I’m not the only person who is pragmatic in nature.”

He chuckled. “That is quite a compliment. My wife used to—” His laughter faded, his sherry-brown eyes darkening.

Lily put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. It’s still a fresh wound.”

“It shouldn’t be, as she died more than two years ago.” He shook his head. “She would not have wished me to hide away and grow old alone, so I— Good God, just listen to me.” He chuckled ruefully. “Here I am, walking through a beautiful woods with an even more beautiful companion, and I’m being about as much fun as a dead horse.”

“I’m sure it was an extremely difficult time for you.”

He looked down at her with a warm smile. “You are very generous, Lily.”

“I would think less of you for not caring.”

He squeezed her hand, and they turned the corner and found themselves facing three divergent paths.

“We face an intriguing choice, Lily. Which shall we choose?”

She was about to suggest that they take the shortest pathway to tea when Wulf’s deep rumble interrupted her reply.

“Ah, Huntley! There you are.”

He stood on the path behind them, Emma on his arm. Wulf was dressed in buff breeches tucked into black boots, his deep blue coat open and his cravat
carelessly knotted about his strong throat. His black hair fell over his forehead and framed his striking eyes.

“What a surprise,” Huntley said, looking far from pleased to see Emma’s hand resting on the prince’s arm. “Your Highness, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The duchess re-invited me.” Wulf’s gaze locked with Lily’s, a smile curving his mouth. “I had to row myself over, as I was late arriving, but I did so and now here I am.”

“How fortunate for us all,” Huntley said. “Emma, I thought you were walking with Mrs. Simpson?”

“She stopped to wait on Lady MacInnis, and the prince was coming this way, so I joined him.” Emma leaned against Wulf’s arm and smiled up at him. “Shall we continue on? It might rain on us if we linger.”

“Yes,” Lily agreed. “I’m famished as well, and I hear that a lovely tea awaits.”

“Then we go.” Wulf started toward the wider path to the left, Emma with him.

Lily started to follow, but Huntley didn’t move. As her arm was tucked into his, she stopped as well.

Wulf looked back, frowning. “Do you not come?”

Huntley smiled. “You may take that path. Lily and I will take this other and meet you at the tent for tea.”

Emma’s brow creased. “The duchess said to keep to the widest path.”

Huntley’s smile dimmed. “We’re on an island. I’m certain that all of these paths eventually converge.”

Lily half expected Wulf to argue, but he merely
shrugged his broad shoulders. “Do as you wish. I must find this tea. I have not had lunch and I hear there will be apple and peach tarts.”

Lily’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food.

Huntley didn’t notice, for he was already tugging her to the far path. Unable to say more without stepping on the earl’s pride, she went with him, aware of Wulf’s gaze as they disappeared in the forest.

•  •  •

The Roxburghe folly had been designed to look like a half-collapsed Grecian temple, complete with a crumbling portico, large fallen columns, and an ornate mural half hidden by vines. Trees surrounded the small clearing, where a large tent had been raised to protect the guests from inclement weather.

Underneath the tent was a repast of hard cheeses, scones, tea cakes, cold duck, crusty bread, roasted beef, an assortment of jams and jellies, bowls of pears and apples, a platter of grapes, and an assortment of the promised tarts. A small table held eight kinds of tea, all in decorative pots, while footmen carried trays of chilled champagne across the lawn for the more adventurous.

Ladies and gentlemen ate and talked, laughed and mingled, while a three-piece ensemble played off to one side, flooding the area with soft music.

Emma, oblivious to it all, looked at the threatening skies. “Where can they be?”

“Walking. While you fetched your scone, I asked one of the footmen about the path Huntley chose. It
goes to the other side of the island and ends at a small cove on the lake. They will have to turn and walk back if they wish to join us for tea.”

“Oh no!”

He frowned. “Why are you so worried? A little rain will not hurt them.”

“You don’t understand.” She glanced around and then leaned forward to say in a low, urgent voice, “If anyone realizes they are alone and in the woods together, it could cause a scandal.”

“If someone mentions it, we will just say that we saw them near the temple. It is a large area, and there are many places they could be with perfect propriety.”

Emma didn’t look convinced. “I wish you had demanded that they come with us.”

“I didn’t know that the path Huntley chose to take wouldn’t end up here. Besides, I didn’t wish to antagonize him.”

Emma’s brows rose. “That is a change of tune.”

“I wish to win Huntley’s confidence.”

“Why?”

“Because I wish to, that is why.” Wulf regarded Emma over the edge of his champagne glass. “You may help me with that.”

“I?” Her gaze narrowed. She put her empty plate on a small table. “Why this sudden urge to befriend Huntley?”

Wulf took a drink of the champagne. “Did you take my advice and tell Huntley how you feel?”

Emma’s cheeks stained pink. “No.”

“A pity. Meanwhile, I told Lily that I loved her and have since I first saw her.”

“What did she say?”

He finished the champagne and placed it on the table beside her plate. “It was as you said; I frightened her.”

“I thought that’s how she would react. You are either very brave or very foolhardy; I can’t decide which.”

“I am in love. And at least now Lily knows I am here and that I will wait for her. She also made me a bargain.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I am to help her in her quest to gain Huntley’s interest.”

Emma, who’d just taken a sip of tea, choked.

Wulf looked at her in concern.

Coughing, she pressed a hand to her throat, finally catching her breath. “Wulf, you cannot help Lily win Huntley! That’s madness.”

“It
is
madness. But I have thought of this and it is for the best.”

“How? Why?”

“Because if she is with Huntley enough, then one of two things will happen. Either they will grow tired of one another and realize they do not belong together, or—” He didn’t seem to be able to finish the sentence.

She scowled. “Or they will fall in love and we’ll both be lost.”

“If that happens, then they were not meant for us, and we must let them go.”

Emma’s eyes darkened and she was silent a moment, staring into her teacup. Finally she sighed. “You may be right.”

“Sadly, I am.”

She set her cup onto the saucer with a clip. “But don’t expect me to help you. Huntley is entranced already, and you said yourself that Lily is determined to wed him for his fortune. I
won’t
help them.”

“Emma, they must come to us on their own or it will not matter.”

“Speak for yourself! I would take Huntley any way I could get him.”

“Oh? You wish to be an unloved wife? Even Huntley’s unloved wife?”

She looked away. After a long moment she sighed. “No.”

“Then we must make them choose, Emma. And they must choose us. It is a devil’s bargain, but it is all we have. And if it will win Moya for me, and Huntley for you, then it is worth the risk.”

Emma stared across the lawn with unseeing eyes.

“Well? Will you help me by answering some questions about Huntley? Or shall I ask another of his friends?”

She sent him a cross look. “What do you wish to know?”

“I must get closer to him, get him to talk to me
as a friend. But he dislikes me. I don’t think it is just because of Moya, though that is part of it.”

“He thinks you’re too flamboyant. He dislikes people who garner attention. All of his friends are gent—” She caught herself and flushed. “I mean—”

Wulf chuckled. “Do not apologize. I know what you mean and I am not offended. I have no wish to be a ‘gentleman.’ ” He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels as he considered her words. “So he dislikes people who garner attention. That is good information. Very good. I can use it.”

“Fine.” Her voice was rather irritated as her gaze scanned the tent and surrounding grounds. “They’re still not here.”

He checked his watch again. “I will go and find them. If anyone asks where we are, say that you think we are inside the folly.”

“Very well. But you’d better hurry, for it’s beginning to rain.”

From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe
I’m quickly coming to the conclusion that Nature is best observed at a distance.

Lily stared at the small cove at the end of their path. “This didn’t take us to the folly at all!”

The earl stood beside her, a chagrined expression on his face. “Apparently not.”

She swallowed a sharp retort. Twice in the last twenty minutes she’d suggested that the path was heading in the wrong direction, but Huntley wouldn’t hear of it. Oh no, they must press on, he’d said. They couldn’t turn back now, he’d said. He couldn’t possibly be wrong, he’d said.

Lily wanted nothing more than to smack the man. She turned and marched back to the path, her stomach growling with hunger, her temper just as thin.

“Lily, wait!” Huntley hurried after her, his voice coming closer. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to follow the path back to where it
intersected with the wide path and then follow it to the folly, which is what we should have done to begin with.” She passed through some trees, walking faster.

“Lily—Miss Balfour—wait! I’ll come with you.” He caught up, his boots crunching on the path. “I’m sorry if I misjudged the direction. I assure you that it was an innocent mistake.”

She was sure it was an innocent mistake, but there was no excuse for the way the earl had dismissed every suggestion and opinion she’d had.

“Lily, please!” He grasped her arm and pulled her to a stop.

She closed her eyes and took a calming breath.
I can’t afford to take offense at every little thing. Think of Papa. Think of Dahlia.

“Lily?”

She opened her eyes and found the earl looking at her with such genuine contrition in his sherry-colored eyes that her irritation fizzled like a snuffed candle. He was just doing what he thought was best.
He’s always doing what he thinks is best. Somehow, that annoys me worse than someone trying to do his worst.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m being dreadfully ill-tempered, and I don’t mean to be. I’m just famished.”

“I’m sorry I led you astray.” He grimaced. “I let my dislike of the prince prod me into making a hasty decision. I just don’t like how he’s always flirting with Emma. And then there are times he looks at you as
if— But that’s still no excuse.” The earl took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “Come, we’ll walk as quickly as we can.”

They walked in silence for most of the way. Lily couldn’t imagine being in such a silent state with Wulf. For one, the man had never met a silence he didn’t wish to fill. If he didn’t fill it with words, then he filled it with kisses. The kind that made her heart race and her—

Her stomach growled and she placed her hand over it, glancing at Huntley, who was looking off into the forest, a polite expression on his face.

Her face heated, more embarrassed by Huntley’s reaction than her own. What had promised to be a lovely day was now tense and uncomfortable; it couldn’t possibly get any worse.

But she was wrong. It started with a plop here and there.
Rain.
She tugged the hood of her cloak over her head as, without a word, they picked up their pace. Soon, the rain fell in a gentle shower all around.

Moments later, they rounded a bend and a deep voice met them. “Ah, there you are.”

Wulf was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked handsome and calm, an amused glint in his eyes.

Huntley inclined his head. “Wulfinski.”

The prince shoved himself from the tree and delivered a proper bow. “Huntley. Miss Balfour.”

“It’s raining and I wish to get Miss Balfour to shelter.”
Huntley settled his hat so that the brim shadowed his eyes. “How far away is the folly?”

“Ten minutes, but you’re just two minutes from the boats. It would make sense to head straight there and return to the castle. Once this rain begins in earnest, everyone will leave. The boats will have to make several trips to fetch all of her grace’s guests and I fear that the last batch or so will be very wet before they reach the opposite shore.”

The rain increased, striking now with more force, bending leaves and tapping across Lily’s hood. “He’s right, Huntley. Let’s return to the castle. We will eat once we get there.”

Huntley frowned. “Where’s Emma?”

“She’s at the folly with the other guests.” Wulf glanced at the sky. “The duchess was just ordering the servants to pack up the food when I left.”