Her Highness, My Wife (2 page)

“You thought it terse?” She frowned. “I thought it was a bit simple, perhaps, but it said what was necessary to say.”

“Did it?” Sarcasm tinged his words. “All it said was that you had responsibilities and obligations you could no longer ignore. It further said you intended to—”

“Enough.” She thrust out her hand to stop him. “I know what I said. And, possibly, it was not…” She searched for a word. “Sufficient.”

“Sufficient?” In spite of his intentions, his voice rose and he nearly choked on the words. “It was bloody well anything but sufficient. It left more questions than answers and was scarcely the kind of note you leave a man you claim to—”

“Very well, it was not at all sufficient,” she said quickly, “although it did seem so at the time.” She cast him a pleasant smile. “Do accept my apologies.”

“That’s it, then?” He pulled his brows together. “Nothing more from you than
do accept my apologies
?”

“My sincere apologies.”

He glared in disbelief. She was offering him no more than the kind of apology one gave for a minor social faux pas.

“My
most
sincere apologies.”

Is that all she thought the pain she inflicted on him was worth?
Most sincere apologies
?

“You may stop looking at me like that now, Matthew.” Impatience sounded in her voice. “I am deeply, deeply sorry. It was a horrid thing to do. Thoughtless and inexcusable, and I truly regret it. There, now. I hope that satisfies you, because that is the end of it.”

“The end of it?” He shook his head. Maybe it was. Still… “Don’t I deserve more?”

“Perhaps. But I have not more to give you.” She turned and stepped away, then whirled back to face him. “I am sorry, you know, it was a dreadful mistake.”

“All of it?”

“No,” she snapped. “Not all of it, you annoying man. Only the way I left you. And that is all I intend to say for the moment. I will not be interrogated about this.”

“Is that a royal command?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes.”

He stared at her for a long moment and couldn’t resist a slight laugh. “You are indeed a princess. I never would have guessed. It came as quite a shock.”

“I am certain it did.” She studied him warily. It was apparent that she did not intend to say anything further regarding her past actions, and for now he would let it go. For whatever reason, she had appeared once again in his life, and right now it may well be more important to find out why she was back than why she’d left.

“I see you no longer travel alone.” He nodded toward the stable yard. A good half dozen or so men on horseback waited patiently. They were not uniformed, but it was apparent by their bearing that they were military. Some sort of royal guard, no doubt. They were accompanied by a single woman, also on horseback. “It’s an impressive assembly.”

She smiled ruefully. “It is a burden of position, to be always accompanied, to have constant companionship. It is not—”

“Why are you here?” he said abruptly, the question as startling to him as to her, perhaps more.

“I…” She paused for a moment, obviously considering her answer. “I need your assistance.”

“My assistance?” Surprise swept through him, and an odd touch of disappointment. “Whatever for?”

“Well, you see…” She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully and his stomach tightened at the familiar habit. “I am writing the history of my family, the House of Pruzinsky, and—”

“You’re doing what?” Disbelief sounded in his voice.

“I am writing the history of the royal family,” she said in the firm manner of a governess, contradicting everything he knew of her. “It is something of a scholarly endeavor, and—”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t believe you for a moment.” He laughed.

“You’re not the type of woman who could ever be interested in anything scholarly. Frivolous or meaningless, perhaps, but never intellectual.”

“Frivolous? Meaningless?” Indignation snapped in her eyes and she stepped toward him. “I will have you know I was an excellent student as a girl. My tutors could not praise me enough. I speak six languages. I am not only familiar with the works of Aristotle and Descartes, but I understand them. I can list the names and major accomplishments, in order, of the emperors ofRome. I am well versed in Shakespeare and know complete scenes from a good number of his plays by heart.”

She moved closer, too absorbed by her defense of her intelligence to notice she was now a scant foot away from him. But he did notice.

“I can recite the names and dates of rule of every monarch for the last five hundred years of every significant power inEurope, including your own country.”

Near enough for him to reach out and—

“I know, and comprehend, the underlying reasons, as well as the obvious causes, for the major conflicts and wars among the nations of the world, including the complaints of those clever Americans who were

intelligent enough to tell your barbaric country precisely where it could put its taxes and its tea!”

She stared up at him. Fire shot from her eyes. Passion shadowed every line of her body. Her blond hair moved in silken emphasis with every bob of her head. She was fervent and fascinating and abruptly he realized he’d lied to himself. For fifteen months, three weeks and four days he’d told himself he wanted nothing more to do with her. He’d sworn he didn’t care, perhaps he’d never cared. He’d promised himself, if he ever saw her again, he would treat her with the disdain she deserved. Now he realized he wanted her as much today as he had a year ago. Nothing had changed that. Not her leaving. Not his broken heart. Not even his pride.

“And furthermore…” She glared up at him. He was a good half foot taller than she. He straightened, the movement bringing his body to within inches of hers. She was too caught up in her tirade to note their close proximity. Her scent, a subtle blend of exotic flowers and vague hints of foreign spice, wafted around him, and his stomach twisted with memory and desire.

“I well understand the flammable properties of hydrogen, as well as the basic principles of lighter-than-air flight. And I know most of the learned men in your field consider balloons filled with hot air to be considerably
more
dangerous than those filled with hydrogen because of the constant threat of fire to the balloon itself.”

“Aerostat,” he said absently, gazing into her green eyes and remembering how they’d darken in the throes of passion.

“What?” She shook her head with confusion.

“Aerostat. Remember?” His gaze dropped to her lips. Full and ripe and lush. He hadn’t forgotten the feel of those sweet lips against his. He drew a deep breath and met her gaze.

“We call them aerostats, not balloons.”

“Yes, of course. And I knew that too.” She stared up at him, eyes wide with… what? Apprehension?

Desire?

Heat flashed between them. His gaze locked on hers and he struggled to breathe. To remember to breathe. “And those of us who fly them are aeronauts.”

“Indeed. I knew that as well.” She swallowed hard.

Without thinking, he lowered his head. Her chin rose. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was as if he were guided by an unseen hand. Of fate or destiny. Or, more likely, desire. Demanding and undeniable. His mouth moved closer to hers, even as he acknowledged kissing her, wanting her was entirely different than loving her. Loving her was a mistake that, this time, could well destroy him. A mistake he would not make again.

His lips brushed hers and he whispered against them. “What do you want, Tatiana?”

“I want… that is, I need…” She sighed, and her breath mingled with his. “I need a husband.”

He stilled, his lips still lightly touching hers, her words as shocking as a splash of cold water. “What?”

“I need a husband. I need you”—she drew a deep breath—“to pose as my husband.”

“To pose—” He jerked back and stared down at her. “No!”

“Do hear me out before you say no.” She tilted her head in that beguiling manner that haunted his dreams. “Do you not want to know why I have made such a request before you say no?”

“Not particularly,” he said sharply. “Besides, I have already said no.”

“Not as far as I am concerned.” She waved away his refusal. “You simply cannot say no until you know why.”

“I can and I have.” His voice was firm.

She huffed in annoyance. “This is not at all gallant of you.”

“Do forgive me.” He swept an exaggerated bow. “I would not wish to be ungallant.”

“Excellent.” She beamed. “I knew you would change your mind.”

“I have not changed my mind.” Admittedly, though, he was intrigued by her persistence and could not ignore a touch of unwanted curiosity.

“Come, now, Matthew, I…” She stopped and stared, an expression akin to horror on her face. “You are not married, are you?”

“Not at the moment,” he said mildly. “And you?”

Her relief was palpable. As well it should be. She apparently needed him as her husband now, though it was a position she had once paid no heed to at all.

She shook her head. “I have not married… again.”

Again. The simple word hovered in the air.
Again
.

“So…” He picked up a short cut of pipe and hefted it absently in his hand. “Tell me why you propose this ridiculous charade.”

“It is an interesting story.” She turned away from him and paced, as if she needed time to choose the right words. “A half century ago, my aunt, the last hereditary princess before me—”

“Hereditary princess?” He raised a brow.

“A princess who is in line for the throne,” she said offhandedly.

“And you are a hereditary princess?” he asked slowly. “You can inherit your country’s throne?”

“After my father, if both my brothers were to perish, then yes.” She glanced at him. “They are extremely healthy and not at all prone to accident. I have no doubt my brother Alexei will be the next ruler of Avalonia, and that is as it should be. I have no desire to rule. Ever.”

“I see.” He hadn’t realized the importance of her position. Perhaps her note about responsibility was sufficient after all.

“At any rate, Sophia—that was her name—fled the country with her infant daughter after her husband was killed in an insurrection. She took only a handful of belongings.” She paused for a moment as if debating precisely how much to reveal, and Matt wondered idly what those belongings were.

“A few months after her arrival, she wed the Earl of Worthington, in effect abdicating her position and essentially severing ties with her home. She never sent her mother, my grandmother, more than a single letter. Aside from that, there is nothing known of her life from the time she left Avalonia to the moment she married the earl. It is that story I wish to document.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She looked at him curiously, as if the answer were obvious. “Sophia was a member of the royal family of my country. One of a select line of hereditary princesses. Whether the choices she made in her life were right or wrong, she cannot be allowed to be forgotten.” Determination lifted her chin. “I will not permit it.”

“I see.” He supposed it made sense in a convoluted, feminine sort of way. “What I don’t understand is why you need me.”

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I cannot go blithely aroundEnglanddemanding information about a lost princess. Not as myself anyway. It simply would not work.” She lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “You may not be aware of this, but many people are quite intimidated by royalty.”

“Really?” He stifled a smile.

“Indeed they are.” She nodded seriously. “However, Lord Weston and his wife, Lady Weston, Avalonian by birth—”

“Lord and Lady Matthew.”

“Are you certain? It doesn’t have the same imposing sound to it.”

“I am certain.”

“Very well, then. Lord and Lady
Matthew
can certainly retrace the steps of the Princess Sophia and meet with those who knew her. They will be much more willing to respond without censoring their words or being the least bit uncomfortable. Their comments will be honest and candid.” She flashed him a triumphant smile. “Now do you understand?”

“Not really.” He shook his head. “It seems like a great deal of trouble for a bit of insignificant information.”

“It is not insignificant. And I thought it was a brilliant idea,” she said loftily.

“It’s ridiculous. Aside from everything else, in my adult life I have never been known as Lord Matthew. My brothers have used their titles, but I have not spoken to them or anyone else in my family for the past decade. My sudden appearance as—”

“Perhaps you should.” Her tone was prim.

“Should what?”

“Speak to your family. Perhaps it is time. Ten years is an exceedingly long time, and it does seem that regardless of—”

“Enough,” Matt said firmly, ignoring the fact that he had been thinking much the same thing of late. He simply didn’t know how to go about it or how he’d be received. He certainly didn’t like to hear it coming from her. “My relationship with my family is not the issue at the moment.”