Innocence (42 page)

“Not at all.” Lisa decided not to mention there were still matters she needed to discuss with Nathaniel about the nature of any union between them.
 

“I pray you will forgive me for my earlier lapse in good manners,” she added. “When I left Worthington Hall, I thought I’d never see Lord Marsden again. I refused his offer of marriage, as I believed it would be to his detriment. When I learned I might be of a sufficient status for us to marry, I was in a rush to prevent him from relinquishing his titles. Then when I saw him, I completely forgot myself and . . .”

“There, there.” The King halted her rambling account. “Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do recall what it’s like to be young and swept up in the moment.”

“You are too kind, Your Majesty.”

“Not at all, and by that, I mean most people would say
not at all
. But what is this you
might
be a suitable match for a marquis? The burning question is whether a marquis is of a high enough rank for
you
, my dear, and what exact rank I should bestow upon you.”

“Rank?”
 

“Yes. If you’d been raised in the French Court, you’d have been a princess—a duchess, at the very least—though your mother did marry a
long
way beneath herself, so maybe not.” He frowned. “I’m not saying your father isn’t a worthy gentleman, but you know how these things go.”
 

Lisa nodded.
 

“If his grandmother had married more highly, Lord Marsden would have been a prince. Once he becomes the Duke of Worthington, not that I’m wishing any harm to befall his father, of course. Although the blasted man does seem intent on setting my empire on its head with his outrageous notion.” Shaking his head, the King appeared to lose his train of thought.

“Once Lord Marsden becomes the Duke of Worthington?” Lisa prompted.

“Yes, exactly. Then the two of you could marry, you’d become a duchess of
some
note, though not as highly placed as a royal duchess or princess, of course. But as it stands, he’s merely a marquis—
not
as impressive as either duke or prince—and not set to inherit for decades. To make up for my regrettable familial neglect, I think I must bestow a title upon you, countess of somewhere or other I expect, or I might even create a duchy to give you. I’ll have to check the legalities, but I’m sure I can come up with something. Then we really must find you a prince to wed.”

Lisa wrung her hands. “Becoming a marchioness is more than enough for me, Your Majesty.”

“That may be, but it is
the generally accepted duty of the female members of the family to marry foreign princes and such to strengthen alliances. Helps to avoid wars, which is a good thing in my book.”

Appalled by the direction of the King’s thoughts, Lisa decided now was not the time for prevarication.

“About the
nature
of Lord Marsden’s and my relationship.” She dropped her gaze.

“Don’t be afraid to speak plainly, my dear.”
 

The King’s tone was gentle, and she looked up to see him watching her closely.
 

“I’m not easily shocked, nor am I as prudish as the dowagers who terrorise young debutantes and the rest of the
ton
for that matter.”
 

He indicated she should continue, and Lisa chose her words carefully.
 

“There is a certain expectation placed on a young lady approaching matrimony, Your Majesty, one I am no longer able to meet
.
I
wouldn’t want to cause a
misunderstanding
between Great Britain and one of her allies if it was believed I had married under false pretences. I’m sure a crown prince would only want a lady of the
highest calibre
for his bride.”

“There is that.” The King frowned. “No one would think anything of it if you were a man. I cohabited with my mistress for twenty years, though I must admit it took a while to find a bride willing to take on my ten illegitimates.”
 

Lisa’s mouth gaped.

Ten?

“There’s such a lot of credence placed on one’s bride being virginal, not that I’m criticising you for doing what you needed to survive under trying circumstances. You’re of the aristocracy, Anneliese. We
make
the rules, so we can break them if it suits us. Though you might not want to mention my saying that to the Archbishop, as he’s a belligerent fellow at the best of times and gets rather testy when the authority of the Church is challenged. Nor my privy council for that matter.”

“No, of course not.” Lisa did her best not to smile at the panicked look that had appeared in the King’s eyes.

“Yes, well, it was much easier when I was a navy admiral. I told people what to do and they did it. Now every word that comes out of my mouth is scrutinised, and I’m watched like a damned hawk, begging your pardon.”

“Not at all,” Lisa murmured. “You mentioned the credence of a bride’s
status
?”

“Yes. It’s not an insurmountable problem. A large enough dowry generally counters any husbandly squeamishness. It’s amazing what a man will tolerate to gain political advantage.”

Lisa’s face fell, and the King eyed her curiously.

“Let me make sure I understand your wishes correctly. Despite Lord Marsden’s shockingly inappropriate behaviour, you’d still prefer marriage to a marquis than having your pick of the princes of Europe?”

“Most definitely, Your Majesty. I realise it is not generally taken into consideration when choosing a partner for matrimony, but I love Lord Marsden, and I want to spend my life with him and no other.”

“One doesn’t always get what one wants, Anneliese. I loved the mother of my ten children, but one can’t have an Irish, Catholic, actress for a queen, now can one?”

Lisa’s heart sank even as she felt for both the King and his mistress who she gathered must have been set aside.
 

“I
could
overrule your wishes.” The King let his words sink in before continuing. “But I have a feeling that wouldn’t stop you from taking matters into your own hands.”
 

Though she swallowed hard, Lisa did not contradict his statement.

“You would hardly be the first couple to allow sentiment to guide their actions. But I’d rather not have a prominent, if impetuous, young lord elope with a recently discovered member of a foreign aristocracy on my watch. Considering the attention I expect the announcement of your royal connections will garner, the scandal would be horrendous. I’m attempting to
undo
the damage my brother inflicted upon the reputation of the monarchy, not create more reasons for dissent.”

“Quite.” Lisa nodded, surprised to find her unwelcome notoriety working in her favour.

“But I do own to being somewhat disappointed by the inflexibility of your decision,” the King continued. “Lord Marsden deserves to be punished for his actions, and I was rather looking forward to getting one up on Worthington for a change. It would have been most diverting to watch him grovel in an attempt not to have his son disinherited.”

Unsure how to respond, Lisa remained silent. Now that she had been reunited with Nathaniel, however briefly, she had cause to question her resolve. While she had been willing to forfeit her happiness for the benefit of countless individuals of inferior fortune, the anguish she would feel if her chance to be with Nathaniel was sacrificed to score points in a game of political one-upmanship was considerable.

The King sat scowling for a moment before a gleeful smile spread across his face.

“I will
consider
your wish, Lady Anneliese—no guarantees, mind you—on one condition.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“That
your young man is in any fit state for matrimony once your father has finished with him, something I seriously doubt will be the case.”

Chapter 38

Meddling

Disappointed not to have received the King’s unequivocal blessing, Lisa was impatient to return to the throne room and discover the outcome of Nathaniel’s meeting with her father. She didn’t
think
it would be as grim as the King had intimated, but the thought was unsettling. Unfortunately, the Sovereign was in no hurry, saying he wanted to make up for his regrettable familial neglect.
 

“I’m particularly interested to hear about the extraordinary excitement and adventures you’ve experienced these past months,” he said.

It was not the way Lisa would have described the trauma of seeing her father shot and her life upended, but she did her best to regale the curious sovereign. He seemed intent on painting her as a heroine for surviving the “unspeakable horror of a member of the aristocracy finding oneself in the role of a servant.”
 

Considering he had spent so many years in the navy, she was a little surprised by the King’s view. Although she imagined the same reaction would be forthcoming from any member of the upper class faced with having to perform menial tasks in return for their supper. She had certainly found the role of a servant tiring, but it hadn’t been all bad. Being able to take credit for her endeavours and not having to hide her passion for baking was something Lisa would miss. But she didn’t imagine a marchioness could get away with spending her afternoons creating culinary delights with her kitchen staff.
 

The thought saddened her a little, but she shook it off. Nathaniel had been willing to give up
everything
for them to be together. The loss of freedom she would experience as his wife—
if
they were granted permission to marry—was a minor sacrifice in comparison.

When the King and Lisa finally made the return journey to the throne room, she had to remind herself not to rush ahead. Repeating her earlier performance and throwing herself into Nathaniel’s arms was not an option, no matter how sorely she might be tempted. Passing through the large double doors into the throne room, her face fell when she did not see him or her father waiting.

“They’ll be along shortly, my dear.”
 

The King led Lisa across the throne room to a doorway hidden behind a wide pillar. It opened into a surprisingly cosy salon with velvet-padded chairs arranged before a fireplace. Gold brocade curtains were drawn back from the windows that revealed a sunlit courtyard teeming with greenery and spring blossoms.

The setting was pleasant, but Lisa was too anxious to appreciate it or savour the tea and delicacies hovering servants delivered as soon as they were seated. With her gaze trained on the doorway, she stifled a cry the moment Nathaniel came into view.
 

A lifetime without him would be unendurable.
 

He smiled at her, and she placed the cup she had been nursing on an intricately carved side-table but resisted the urge to rise to her feet. Her father entered next, and she was relieved to see his colour was improved.
 

“Your Majesty.” Nathaniel bowed low before coming to stand before Lisa. “My Lady.”
 

His eyes sparkled as he took her hand in his.

“Lord Marsden,” she said softly.

“A slightly more socially acceptable greeting than the one we witnessed earlier, I see,” the King said. “But nowhere near as entertaining to watch.”

“Depends on the relationship of the observer, I believe, Your Majesty.”
 

Lisa’s cheeks bloomed at her father’s wry comment, yet she could not bring herself to regret having kissed Nathaniel earlier. If the King refused to give his assent for them to marry . . .
 

Unwilling to finish the thought, her breath caught.

“Are you all right?” Nathaniel queried softly, and she nodded.
 

“Do sit down.” The King waved a hand. “One gets a stiff neck having to stare up at people, which is why thrones are always placed on a dais. But this is a far more comfortable setting for what is, essentially, a family gathering, don’t you think?”

Her father took a seat across from Lisa, while Nathaniel sat by her side. He was still holding her hand and appeared to have no intention of letting it go. Neither the King nor her father commented, so she gratefully linked their fingers.

“I must say, Sir George, I’m quite disillusioned. You’ve failed to live up to your military reputation. Lord Marsden looks to be in remarkably pristine condition considering I left the two of you alone for the better part of an hour. I was expecting, at least, a blackened eye or bloodied nose.”

“I’ve found the threat of violence, if it is extreme enough, is usually sufficient, Your Majesty.”
 

The King harrumphed, seeming genuinely disappointed Lisa’s father had not beaten Nathaniel around the head with his cane. He moved restlessly at her side, and she wondered what her father had said to him.

“I’m sure you would agree that utter scoundrel, Copeland, deserves more than mere threats,” the King continued. “A pity the man’s as slippery as an eel, or I’d let you at him and thoroughly enjoy the spectacle.”

“As would I, Your Majesty,” her father said with relish.

“Lord Copeland is not in prison?” Lisa sat forward in alarm.

“It’s all right.” Nathaniel squeezed her hand, and she edged closer to his side. “I’ll keep you safe.”