Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (37 page)

“She has been destined from birth to marry a man of royal blood, not one whose lands
and title were stripped from his family decades ago.” He paused as Daniel scowled.
“That’s right, she told me a bit of your history.”

His scowl deepened.

“But even were I to accept this most uneven of marriages and give you the use of her
dowry,” the prince went on, “can you truly imagine that she would be happy living
in isolation in the Scottish Highlands? Or that you would relish residing in Alden,
or even here in England, knowing that nearly everything you possess comes courtesy
of your wife, and that the world would brand you little better than a fortune hunter
and a base hanger-on?”

No, by God, I would not,
he was honest enough to admit.

“If you love her, Major, then do the right thing and agree to the divorce. Both of
you will be happier in the end.”

Mercedes might be happy in time, but he would not, he knew. How could he be, without
her?

But he wasn’t so selfish. He would never wish to force a life on her that she did
not truly want.

“And should she find herself with child?” he forced himself to ask, knowing there
was a very real possibility that she had conceived. “What then?”

“Then the child will be cared for, of course.”

Daniel’s gaze shot to the prince. “Sent away, you mean? I’ll no’ have any bairn of
mine raised by someone else.”

“No, you misunderstand. I give you my word that any child of Mercedes will be raised
as befits his maternal lineage with his mother there to love and care for him. On
this point, I think we can agree that a child is better off with its mother.”

Yes, he supposed so long as Mercedes raised their child, he would not complain. At
least not about anything more than the sorrow of never knowing his own son or daughter.
Would that be another pain he would have to bear for the rest of his days?

“Your child, should there be one, would be reared as a
royal, given every comfort and security, a fine education, and a good marriage when
the time came.”

A good marriage…unlike his and Mercedes’s.

“So, do I have your agreement?” the prince asked.

He’d known something like this might happen, had dreaded each day and mile of the
journey that had brought him closer to this point. Was her father right? Was his and
Mercedes’s marriage no more than a misbegotten adventure to her, a fancy of which
she would tire soon enough?

If he could believe she would be happy giving up her royal status and living with
him in Skye, he would tell her father to go to the devil this instant. But he could
not forget the day before and how she had failed to introduce him as her husband.
How she had quailed under the force of father’s dominant personality and the natural
expectations of her friends.

“Very well,” he said, feeling something inside die. “I agree.”

D
aniel is here!

Mercedes heard the rich whiskied burr of his voice and hurried along the corridor.
Had he only just arrived? He must have or else he would already have sought her out.
Yet as she moved down the stairs and into the entry hall, she noticed that he seemed
to be on his way out rather than the other way around. He exchanged an inconsequential
remark with Symms, as one of the footmen handed him the black valise he had left behind
in the coach yesterday.

She hurried forward, the skirts of her apricot silk day dress billowing around her
ankles, soft cream slippers on her feet. The dress and two others had arrived only
minutes before breakfast, Emma’s mantua maker arriving to personally fit the gowns
that had kept a team of seamstresses sewing late into the night. Each of the women
had been paid handsomely for her efforts, Emma had assured her.

His eyes widened fractionally as he surveyed her, as if he’d never quite seen her
before. And in a way he had not, she supposed, realizing that this was the first time
he had ever seen her look as she ought—dressed and coiffed like a princess. Her pulse
sped faster, hoping he liked the results.

And for a moment she knew he did, his eyelids drooping in a way she associated with
ardent kisses and tangled sheets. But then the look disappeared, a flash of sorrow
darkening his green eyes before even that was wiped away to leave a kind of impenetrable
remoteness.

He must still be angry, she decided. She had a right to be angry too, considering
the way he’d walked out yesterday and left her to worry. But she couldn’t be cross
with him; she was just glad he was here, safe and well.

“Daniel,” she said softly, “you have returned.”

“Aye.” He studied her again. “You look well this morning, Your Highness.”

Your Highness?
Why would he use her title when he had so rarely done so before, not even when she’d
insisted? She remembered how she had once complained about him calling her lass. Now
she wished he would.

She noticed Symms and the footman and felt some of her anxiety drain away. He must
not like being overheard and had decided to maintain a level of formality in front
of the staff.

“Have you had breakfast?” she asked. “The hour is a bit advanced, but I do not believe
they have cleared the buffet yet. And, of course, Cook could make you anything you
like.”

“Thank you but I breakfasted earlier.”

“Oh, then perhaps we should go upstairs and talk. There is much I have to tell you.”

He didn’t answer immediately, as if weighing his response. Then he gave a clipped
nod. “Aye, that would be best.”

Best?
What did he mean?

Rather than question him, she turned and led the way.

She took him to the sitting room next to her bedchamber and closed the door after
them. The instant they were inside, she threw her arms around his neck and drew his
head down to hers, pressing her mouth tightly to his.

He responded instantly, kissing her with a quick, wild heat, but then he stopped.
Reaching up, he pulled her arms away from his neck.

But she refused to let him go, keeping hold of his hands. “I know you’re angry with
me and you have every reason to be. It was wrong of me not to introduce you the minute
we arrived. But Ariadne and Emma began fussing and then my father walked in. I wasn’t
prepared to see him and I suppose I lost my nerve. That is still no excuse, but you
must believe that I never meant to hurt you.”

Sliding a hand free, she laid it against his cheek, feeling the tension that lay just
under his skin. “Please, say you forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Slowly, he pulled her hand away and lowered it to her
side.

Relief flooded through her and she smiled. She’d expected to have to work at softening
him up, for a few minutes at least, before he finally relented and agreed to accept
her apology. But he’d forgiven her with barely any hesitation, as if he hadn’t been
angry with her after all. But if that were true, then why had he walked out yesterday
and not returned until this morning?

“Where were you last night?” she asked softly. “I was very worried about you. Robbie
too. He missed you.”

“Och, aye, Robbie missed me, did he?” A humorless smile crossed his face. “You’ll
want to keep him, of course.”

She frowned. “Well, yes. He is our dog now.”

“
Your
dog. It’s you he’s always loved best.” He turned away and walked to the window to
study the garden beyond. “I am sorry I worried you. I spent the night at an inn.”

“Oh.”

“And before that, I had a long walk and a few drinks in a public house. Nothing more
interesting than that.”

She could tell he was being honest, even if he was trying to hide the extent of his
anger. But he’d come back and, even better, decided to forgive her.

“I talked to my father this morning,” she told him, wishing he would move away from
the window. “I told him that we are married.”

“Oh? And how did he take that news?” he asked, continuing to look out at the garden.

“He was surprised, I will admit, but then I knew it would come as a shock to him.”

Actually, her father had been far more than shocked; he had been furious, more so
than she’d ever before seen him. He’d bellowed, his face turning a rather alarming
shade of red as he’d vented his displeasure.

“And other than shock?” Daniel mused aloud.

“He isn’t thrilled, but then he doesn’t like to be gainsaid. He always expected to
be involved in the selection of my husband. I suppose he had one or two of my cousins
in mind for me.”

“Royal cousins?”

“Yes, of course. But I told him it doesn’t signify. I am married to you and he will
just have to learn to accept that you are my husband now.”

She stared at his back, wondering why he still hadn’t turned around.

“And if he doesn’t accept?” Daniel said. “If he chooses to oppose our union instead,
what then? He is a monarch, after all.”

Her brows pulled downward. How had Daniel known that her father might threaten such
a thing? But then perhaps it wasn’t such an unusual leap in logic under the circumstances.
“He made some noises about having our marriage annulled, which I told him was impossible
given that we are married in the truest sense of the word.”

“And then?”

Her frown deepened. She really didn’t want to tell him this part. But she supposed
there was no point trying to hide it when he would find out anyway.

“He said he wants me to agree to a divorce, but I refused. He threatened to take me
back to Alden, said that if I persisted
in my willful foolishness he would seek other ways to break the ties between us. But
there is nothing he can do. We are wed.” She paused. “Daniel, would you please turn
around? It’s difficult to have a proper conversation this way.”

Another small silence fell; then he moved away from the window.

What she saw made her draw breath. The sadness had returned to his eyes, his face
serious.

Too serious.

A tiny shiver rippled over her skin. “Daniel?”

“Your father is right. It would be better if we ended this charade of a marriage.”

She stared, sure she had heard him wrong. “What?”

“I did a great deal of thinking last night while we were apart and I realized what
vastly different people we are. The divide between us is just too great.”

“It’s not.”

“Is it no’? Yesterday you couldn’t even bring yourself to acknowledge me as your husband.
You were too ashamed.”

“Shame had nothing to do with it. I told you why I acted as I did—”

“Aye, and I understand. You were afraid. Who else will you be afraid to tell? Your
mother? Your siblings? Other friends?”

“No, it won’t be like that—”

“Even if it is no’, it doesn’t change the fact that you are a blooded princess and
I am a commoner with nothing of particular worth to my name.”

“That does not matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t now, but it will later.”

She pressed her hand to her chest and the dull ache beneath. Why was he saying these
things? How could a single night apart have changed everything between them so completely?

Then suddenly she went cold. “He got to you, didn’t he? My father has told you some
story of how unsuited we are and persuaded you to give me up.”

“We spoke, yes,” he admitted. “But he did no’ say anything I hadn’t already thought
of myself.”

She remembered his inexplicable black mood days ago after he had finally accepted
the truth of her identity. Was that the cause of his brooding? Was that why he had
tried to distance himself from her even then?

“But, Daniel, I love you.”

“You think you do now. But how will you feel in a few months? A year? Five years?
Will you still love me then, after I’ve torn you away from your home and your life?
Look at this house.” He gestured around the room with a hand. “I can never hope to
give you anything even close to this, let alone a castle—”

“I don’t want a castle.”

“You doona now, but how will you feel once you’re stuck in the wilds of Skye in a
house that will seem like the meanest shack to you? How will it be when you’ve two
or three of my bairns clinging to your skirts and you find yourself regretting the
fine life you’ve given up? Wishing you’d divorced me when you’d had that chance?”

A single tear slid down her cheek. “I would never feel that way.”

“Would you no’?” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the beautiful auburn
strands tumbled out of place. “I think that’s why I refused to believe who you were
when you told me. Why I fought the truth when it should have been as plain as the
pretty nose on your face. I did no’ want you to be a princess because then I could
no’ have had you. If I’d known, if I’d let myself believe, I would ne’er have taken
you to wife or to my bed.”

The ache in her chest increased, breath thin in her lungs. “Then you are leaving?”

He met her gaze, his own eyes bleak and resigned, his decision already made. “Aye,
I think it’s for the best.”

Something inside her shattered. “Then go.”

He hesitated as if her distress pained him. But how could it not when he’d so willfully
broken her heart?

“Mercedes—” he said.

“Go!” she screamed, unable to bear it a moment longer. “Go, if that’s what you want.”

He paused, then gave a nod. “Good-bye, Mercedes.”

In near silence, he let himself out the door.

When she heard the lock click into place, she crumpled onto the sofa and gave way
to the tears.

F
or Mercedes, the next week passed by in a kind of haze.

She stopped crying after the first two days and had pinned a forced smile to her face
on the third. But Emma and Ariadne could see through her facade, offering what comfort
they could and doing everything in their power to ease her pain. Still, there was
only so much shopping and theatergoing one could endure. And in spite of its being
the Season, she absolutely refused to attend any parties or balls. The idea left her
utterly cold.