Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (36 page)

Or maybe two—the largest ones available.

Getting to her feet, she made her way to the bed, patting a hand against her hip to
invite Robbie to follow. She shouldn’t encourage him, she knew, but she didn’t want
to be alone tonight, not even here in Nick and Emma’s beautiful town house.

“Daniel isn’t here tonight, so you can sleep with me,” she told the dog as he jumped
up and settled happily at the foot of the bed. “Just don’t tell him I let you.”

Robbie gave a soft woof to seal his promise.

She smiled, but the impulse faded moments later as she climbed beneath the sheets,
wishing Daniel was with her instead.

Daniel squinted against the sunlight the next morning, his head aching, his throat
on fire. He rolled over and buried his face against the pillow, not entirely certain
where he was. He waited several long moments before slowly sitting up.

He was in a small, rather mean-looking room, clean
enough, he supposed, if one didn’t look too hard to find the dirt. He’d come here
last night after an evening spent drinking in the pub. By the time he’d been ready
to leave the place, it had been far too late and he’d had far too much to drink to
present himself at Lyndhurst House in Mayfair. Even if he’d been able to catch a hackney
at such an advanced hour, he doubted Lyndhurst and the archduchess would have let
him past the doors, assuming the servants would have agreed to open them to begin
with.

So he’d found a nearby inn and taken a room where he’d proceeded to sleep off his
night of inebriation. In the general way of things, he wasn’t the sort who used alcohol
to drown his sorrows, but last night he hadn’t seemed to want to stop, needing something
to take his mind off Mercedes.

He groaned as he thought of her, his head throbbing at the sound. His marriage was…Well,
he didn’t entirely know where his marriage stood, but he was fairly certain she wouldn’t
be pleased that he had left without a word and never come back.

Then again, perhaps she was glad he was gone, relieved she wouldn’t have to tell anyone
about the husband who so obviously shamed her.

But as easy as it would be to just pack up and ride for Scotland, he needed to see
her again. She was his wife and she was going to stay his wife whether she liked it
or not.

He also needed to see her father, whom he planned to apprise of the truth about his
relationship with Mercedes. Hopefully the crown prince didn’t wear a sword on a usual
basis; that way he wouldn’t be tempted to use it to run him through.

Scrubbing his palms over his face, he forced himself out of bed. Only after he’d climbed
out did he remember that he’d left his valise back in the coach at Lyndhurst House.
Presumably, they had carried it inside.

Something else to go back for.

In the meantime, he would have to procure soap and water, razor, comb, and toothbrush
from someone here at the inn so
he could make himself presentable—or at least as presentable as he could manage given
the circumstances.

Opening the door, he called for the maid, instantly regretting the action when his
head throbbed anew. Careful to be quieter the second time, he called out again.

Two hours later, he arrived at Lyndhurst House, his head as clear as it was going
to get after a bath, breakfast, and the long walk back to Mayfair that he had used
to shake the last of the drink out of his system.

With the authoritative gait of a military man, he strode up the front steps and rapped
sharply on the knocker. The door opened only moments later, the butler he had met
the day before standing on the other side.

“Major MacKinnon, good morning,” the man greeted. “Her Highness, Princess Mercedes,
will be most pleased to learn that you are arrived.”

Daniel raised a brow, surprised she’d mentioned anything about his absence to the
servants. Had she been worried about him? Despite his anger, maybe he should have
stayed and talked to her yesterday instead of walking out. But then he remembered
how she’d behaved in the drawing room and felt his jaw pull tight again.

“His Royal Highness also left word that he wishes to speak with you.”

He took a moment to digest the import of that statement. So Mercedes’s father wanted
a private conversation? Of course that didn’t necessarily mean Mercedes had told him
about their marriage; he could just want to talk to him again about the reward he
had mentioned.

Deciding that must be the case, he nodded at Symms. “Please inform the prince that
I will be happy to speak with him after I see my—” He broke off, realizing he had
been about to say “my wife.” But if Mercedes had not seen fit to tell the others about
him, then why should he? “After I see Princess Mercedes.”

A faintly uncomfortable expression moved over the butler’s
face. “Actually, His Royal Highness said I was to bring you to see him directly. He
did not want to wait.”

Daniel paused. “Very well. Lead the way.”

But before Symms could move ahead of him, another man appeared in the entry hall.

He was swarthy and lean and of no more than average height, his eyes a hard pale gray
in a face that would have been ordinary except for the thin mustache that covered
his upper lip. He wore a well-cut coat and trousers of dark blue wool whose style
marked him as less than an aristocrat, but more than a servant.

He looked vaguely familiar and Daniel studied him for a long minute without any further
recognition. Quite probably he’d seen him yesterday when he’d been here in the house.
He couldn’t think of anywhere else he might have encountered the man.

He dismissed the whole line of thought as the man stopped in front of him.

“Good morning, Major MacKinnon,” he said with a clipped nod. “I am Lang, deputy to
His Royal Highness’s private secretary. Come with me, please.” Without waiting for
Daniel’s answer, he turned and strode toward the main staircase, then started up.

For a moment, Daniel toyed with the impulse not to follow, if for no other reason
than to see what would happen. But he had to admit he was interested to hear what
his new father-in-law had to say. With an inward shrug, he walked to the stairs and
went up after Lang.

On the second floor, the other man led him down one corridor, then another before
stopping in front of a single wooden door.

Lang knocked.

A soft command came from the other side, giving permission to enter.

Lang turned the knob and walked into the room.

Daniel followed.

The room was finely appointed but not overly large, the
walls painted a pleasant, muted shade of green, with soft Turkey carpets spread over
the polished wooden floors. A wide desk was positioned in front of a sunny window.
The prince was seated behind it. Another man—dressed in the same conservative blue
as Lang—waited nearby.

Prince Frederick glanced up as they entered, then back down again to finish something
he had been writing. After another minute, he laid down his pen, sprinkled a pinch
of sand over the parchment to dry the ink, then handed the missive to the man who
was waiting.

“You two may go,” he said, dismissing Lang and the other functionary. The men bowed,
then left the room, closing the door behind them.

Only then did the prince lean back, regarding Daniel out of deep brown eyes so like
his daughter’s. “Major, we meet again. Won’t you have a seat?” He gestured with a
hand toward a chair.

Daniel remained standing, but did offer a bow. “Your Royal Highness, I understand
you wish to speak with me.”

“As I said, take a seat,” the prince repeated, his words an order this time.

Briefly, Daniel considered refusing, but judged it unnecessary; he had made his point
with his small defiance, he thought. “As you like.”

He sat on the chair, then leaned back, apparently at his ease.

“My daughter paid me a most unusual visit this morning,” Prince Frederick said, his
gaze curiously enigmatic.

“Did she?” Daniel said, careful to keep his features neutral as well.

“Yes, she tells me that I am to wish you happy. She says that while you were in Scotland,
the two of you were married.”

So she
had
told him, after all. A shot of surprise went through his veins, the knowledge warming
him.

Suddenly the prince’s eyes turned flat and cold. “Well, I do not wish you happy. You
were not given permission and you had
no right to marry my daughter. She is only nineteen and much too young to make such
decisions.”

“Perhaps, but she is still old enough to know her own mind.”

The prince’s nostrils flared, his heavy brows drawn low. “I suppose you think yourself
very clever, do you not? Luring her into your clutches. So, how much is it going to
take?”

“How much?” Daniel repeated blankly.

“Yes, how much? How much will I be obliged to pay you in order to set this ill-begotten
union aside and get you out of her life? And here I thought well of you yesterday
for keeping her safe after her harrowing ordeal. I planned to give you a reward, only
to discover that you are the worst villain of all.”

Ice settled inside Daniel. “You mistake the matter. I want nothing.”

“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?”

“Or perhaps I should amend that statement, sir. I want nothing except your daughter.”

The prince’s color flushed high. “Well, you cannot have her.”

“But I have already had her, Your Royal Highness. She is, after all, my wife.”

Mercedes’s father looked as if he’d been struck, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Another man wouldn’t have dared make such a blatant claim of possession. His new father-in-law
was a crown prince, after all, and wielded a great deal of wealth and influence. But
an insult was still an insult, whoever might have issued it. Besides, Daniel had never
been one to back down from a fight regardless of who it might be with.

Prince Frederick tapped his fingers against the desk. “Rather coarsely put, but to
the point nevertheless. She admitted to me that you consummated your union. I suppose
I could expect nothing else under the circumstances. Of course, I had hoped we could
proceed with an annulment, seeing that it would be so much simpler. But a divorce
will serve just as effectively.”

The words hit Daniel like a hard punch to the gut. He’d considered many things when
it came to his and Mercedes’s future, but not that. “There willna be a divorce,” he
stated emphatically.

“Will there not?” the prince countered smoothly. “Once I have laid out all the facts
before the court and the clergy, no one will contest the rightness of such a petition,
whether it be here in England and Scotland or at home in Alden.”

“And if I choose to fight?”

“Then you will lose. I am monarch, and as such my will is law, even if matters must
occasionally appear otherwise in order to appease the people. The divorce will be
granted, Major MacKinnon; of that you may rest assured.”

Daniel fisted his hands, weighing the options and realizing exactly how few there
were. “What does Mercedes say?”

“What she has to say is of little consequence. My daughter will do as she is told.
Until this ill-considered marriage, she has always been a highly biddable girl. She
will be again.”

“And if she chooses no’ to be
biddable
in this case?” Daniel said, his eyes alight with challenge. “If she chooses to stay
with me?”

Prince Frederick met and held his gaze. “She will not. Mercedes will realize the mistake
she has made and come home.”

Reaching out, Mercedes’s father selected a piece of stationery, then took up a pen
and dipped it in ink. “Now, enough of this tiresome debate. I believe you will find
that I am not an ungenerous man.” He scratched the pen quickly across the paper and
pushed it toward Daniel. “Will that be sufficient?”

Curious in spite of himself, Daniel looked at the figure. His heart gave a silent
jolt. The prince was right. It was a most generous amount.

Outwardly, he did not react.

Moments later Mercedes’s father made an impatient sound and reached for the paper
again. He crossed out the figure and wrote another.

Daniel couldn’t help his eyes widening when he read this second amount. There were
men who would have sold their own mothers for such a sum. With that much money he
would never have to worry again. He would be able to refurbish his parents’ house
or even raze it and build a fine estate on top of the ashes. He would be able to live
in luxury for the rest of his life.

He pushed the paper back across the desk. “I do no’ want your money. Mercedes is all
I desire. You may no’ believe this, Your Royal Highness, but I love your daughter.”

The prince leaned back again in his chair, something shifting in his deep brown eyes.
“If you mean what you say, then you will let her go. She is a princess, born to a
life of refinement and ease. I may have misjudged you; you do seem an honorable man.
But you are a soldier and a pensioned-out one at that. Compared to what my daughter
requires, you have nothing.

“You cannot possibly hope to care for her in anything close to the manner to which
she is accustomed. Would you subject her to a life of hardship and disgrace? Would
you shame her in such a way?”

Daniel lowered his gaze, each word cutting like a lash.

“If she comes home with me to Alden,” the prince continued, “there will be talk but
nothing that cannot be overcome with a bit of time. If she remains with you, she will
be ruined, even more than she is now.”

Everything the prince said was right. Had he himself not thought of all these things
before? Of all the reasons why it was impossible for them to be together?

“But what I fear the most is that she will come to regret her decision,” Prince Frederick
said. “Oh, she thinks she is in love now, but how will she feel in six months? A year?
Two years? What will she think when she realizes the adventure is over and she’s grown
tired of living in a small house with few servants and all of her friends and family
gone from her? What happens when she wants her old life back, a life you can never
hope to provide?