Free A Princely Dilemma by Elizabeth Rolls Page A

backwards?’
    Malmesbury’s smile was pure acid. ‘I asked her that myself. Anyway, look, Severn, if you can talk with the prince, try if you can to get him to see reason. He likes you. And haven’t you recently married?’
    ‘I returned from my honeymoon yesterday.’ And he didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, least of all Prinny. ‘I’m surprised you knew anything about it.’
    The baron nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Someone mentioned it in a letter. The thing is, he might listen to you. Voice of experience and so forth.’ Malmesbury looked apologetic. ‘After all, there are parallels, if you will forgive my bluntness.’
    Severn forcibly relaxed his hands. ‘At least His Highness is marrying to settle his own debts,’ he said coldly. Then, at Malmesbury’s steady regard, he sighed. ‘Oh, very well. I’ll try what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.’ Prinny, when he had a bee in his bonnet about a woman, was deaf to anything remotely resembling reason. And if Lady Jersey was pulling his strings about the princess… Nor was the queen happy about the match, having wanted her son to marry her own niece, not the king’s.
    Malmesbury gripped his hand. ‘Thank you. I promised her father, the duke, that I’d do my best for her, but it’s rapidly turning into a disaster.’ He strode off down the corridor towards the king’s apartments, with a final injunction cast over his shoulder. ‘Just do your best, Severn.’

Chapter Two
    His best. Severn contemplated that as he entered his Grosvenor Square mansion three hours later, and handed his hat, gloves and cane to the butler. ‘Thank you, Blythe. Have brandy sent to the library, if you please.’
    After his meeting with the prince he needed it. His best had not been anywhere near good enough. His Royal Highness showed absolutely no sign of being capable of listening to reason where the Princess Caroline was concerned—it was the king’s fault in pressing for a marriage, Malmesbury’s fault for not realising how unsuitable the woman was and getting him out of the match gracefully but instead bringing her to England, the princess’s fault for being so utterly repellent!
    ‘She reeked, Severn! Simply reeked. And all Malmesbury—blast his impudence!—could do when I positively begged for brandy—I felt faint, Severn, faint!—was bleat that I’d better have a glass of water!’
    In the library Severn stared at the portrait of his father, resplendent in the silks and lace of his generation, an angel of ill-fortune, looming over the chimneypiece. ‘What a mess,’ he said. ‘Why the hell do fathers have to interfere in the marital decisions of their sons?’ He sank into the chair at his desk and buried his face in his hands.
    His head snapped up again as a throat cleared in a very pointed sort of way.
    Oh, hell!
    His wife, having clearly just arisen from the wing chair facing the window, stood, book in hand, her expression unreadable, but her chin tilted just a little higher than normal. His heart kicked at the sight of her, but he kept his expression indifferent. Perhaps she hadn’t quite heard. It wasn’t as if he’d been speaking loudly.
    ‘I beg your pardon, my lord duke. I did not hear you enter. I hope you do not mind if I borrow your book?’ Her voice was quite even, not the least sign that she realised she had just heard herself comprehensively insulted.
    ‘They are your books now too.’ He looked at the one she was holding. ‘What are you reading?’
    ‘Goethe.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘You object?’
    ‘Of course not! I just didn’t know you could read German.’
    ‘And French, and Italian.’
    She was better educated in that respect than he was. ‘An accomplished wife.’
    ‘As you wished. Or so I thought.’
    Oh, damn. She had heard.
    ‘You will excuse me?’ She started for the door, her deportment perfect, correct in every particular.
    ‘Madam…’ He rose, went towards her, hands held out. ‘Linette, I did not