She raised her brows.
“I’m sorry, you Scots are much too formal for me.”
“Wait. I’m still trying to grasp that you’re a prince. A real prince?”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders making his cape swing. “We have many princes in Oxenburg, for I have three brothers.”
She couldn’t wrap her mind around the thought of a roomful of princes who looked like the one carrying her: huge, broad shouldered, bulging with muscles and grinning lopsided smiles, their dark hair falling over their brows and into their green eyes. . . . I fell off my horse and into a fairy tale.
Hope washed over her and she found herself saying in a breathless tone, “If you’re a prince, then you must be fabulously wealthy.”
He looked down at her, a question in his eyes. “Not every prince has money.”
“Some do.”
“And some do not. Sadly, I am the poorest of all my brothers.”
Her disappointment must have shown on her face, for he regarded her with a narrow gaze. “You do not like this, Miss Lily Balfour?”
She sighed. “No, no, I don’t.”
One dark brow arched. “Why not?”
“Sadly, some of us must marry for money.” Whether it was because she was being held in his arms or because she was struggling to deal with a surprising flood of regret, it felt right to tell him the truth.
“I see.” He continued to carry her, his brow lowered. “And this is you, then? You must marry for money?”
“Yes.”
He was silent a moment more. “But what if you fall in love?”
“I have no choice.” She heard the sadness in her voice and resolutely forced herself to say in a light tone, “It’s the way of the world, isn’t it? But to be honest, I wouldn’t be looking for a wealthy husband except that I must. Our house is entailed, and my father hasn’t been very good about— Oh, it’s complicated.”
He didn’t reply, but she could tell from his grim expression that he disliked her answer. She didn’t like it much herself, for it made her sound like the veriest moneygrubbing society miss, but that’s what she’d become.
She sighed and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
He looked down at her, and to her surprise, his chin came to rest on her head.
They continued on thus for a few moments, comfort seeping through her, the first since she’d left her home.
“Moya, I must tell you—”
She looked up. “My name is not Moya, but Lily.”
His eyes glinted with humor. “I like Moya better.”
“What does it mean?”
His gaze flickered to her hair and she grimaced. “It means ‘red,’ doesn’t it? I hate that!”
He chuckled, the sound warm in his chest. “You dislike being called Red? Why? It is what you are. Just as what I am is a prince with no fortune.” His gaze met hers. “We must accept who we are.”
She was silent a moment. “You’re dreadfully poor? You said you’d just bought a house.”
“A cottage. It has a thatched roof and one large room, but with a good fireplace. I will make stew for you. I make good stew.”
It sounded delightful; far more fun than the rides, picnics, dinner parties, and other activities the duchess had promised. “I like stew, but I’m afraid that I can’t visit your cottage. It would be improper.” Furthermore, she didn’t dare prolong her time with such a devastatingly handsome, but poor, prince. She had to save all of her feelings so that she could fall in love with the man who would save Papa.
Wulf’s brows had lowered. “But you would come to my cottage if I had a fortune, nyet?”
Regret flooded her and she tightened her hold about his neck. “I have no choice; I must marry for money. I don’t know why I admitted that to you, but it is a sad fact of my life and I cannot pretend otherwise. My family is depending on me.”
He seemed to consider this, some of the sternness leaving his gaze. After a moment he nodded. “It is noble that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for your family.”
“Sacrifice? I was hoping it wouldn’t feel so . . . oh, I don’t know. It’s possible that I might find someone I could care for.”
“You wish to fall in love with a rich man. As my babushka likes to tell me, life is not always so accommodating.”
“Yes, but it’s possible. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m a blank slate. The duchess is helping me, too, and she’s excellent at making just such matches. She’s invited several gentlemen for me to meet—”
“All wealthy.”
“Of course. She is especially hopeful of the Earl of Huntley, and so am I.” Lily looked away, not wishing to see the disappointment in his gaze yet again.
Silence reigned and she savored the warmth of his arms about her. At one time, a wealthy gentleman had seemed enough. Now, she wished she could ask for a not-wealthy prince. One like this, who carried her so gently and whose eyes gleamed with humor beneath the fall of his black hair. But it was not to be.
She bit back a strong desire to explain things to him, to tell him exactly why she needed to marry a wealthy man, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference. As he’d said, he was who he was, and she was who she was. There was no way for either of them to change things, even if they wished to, so it would be better for them both if they accepted those facts and continued on.
For now, though, she had these few moments. With that thought in mind, she sighed and rested her head against his broad shoulder. This will have to be enough.
About the Author
Photo by Michael Cairns
Karen Hawkins is a USA TODAY and New York Times bestselling author. When not stalking hot Australian actors, getting kicked out of West Virginia thanks to the antics of her extended family, or adding to her considerable shoe collection, Karen spends her time writing her next delightfully fun and sexy historical romance.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: authors.simonandschuster.com/Karen-Hawkins
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ALSO BY KAREN HAWKINS
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A Most Dangerous Profession
The Taming of a Scottish Princess
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To Catch a Highlander
Sleepless in Scotland
The Laird Who Loved Me
Contemporary Romance
Talk of the Town
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Other
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Karen Hawkins
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Interior design by Yvonne Chan
Cover design by Alan Ayers
Cover illustration by Jon Paul
ISBN 978-1-4516-8524-4
ISBN 978-1-4516-8526-8 (ebook)
Contents
* * *
Dedication
Letter to Readers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
How to Pursue a Princess Excerpt
Table of Contents
Cover
Dedication
Letter to Readers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
‘How to Pursue a Princess’ Excerpt
About the Author
Copyright