A Princess of Landover

“So wonderful to see you!” he declared effusively.

He grasped her right hand with both of his and began kissing it effusively. Rather forcibly, she extracted it from his grip and gave him a meaningful frown. “It’s not that good to see me. But thank you for the compliment.”

She had learned something about diplomacy while growing up a Princess in her father’s court. You were always polite, even when what you most wanted was to be anything but.

“I hadn’t dared hope that I would be so fortunate as to encounter you personally on this visit. But now that I have, I shall consider it an omen of good fortune.”

She nodded, taking in his strange outfit. “What is that you’re wearing?” she asked, unable to help herself. “Why aren’t you wearing black?”

“Ah, you’ve come right to the crux of the matter,” he replied, giving her a knowing wink. “My clothing is not the usual black because my visit is not the usual visit. It is a different reason entirely that brings me to Sterling Silver. I have been to see your father concerning you.”

“Have you?” She felt a sudden chill sweep through her. “About me?”

“I have requested permission to court you with the intention that you should become my new wife and the mother of my children!” he declared, sweeping the hat from his head and bowing deeply once more. “I intend that we should marry, Mistaya.”

It took her considerable effort, but she managed to keep her face composed and her emotions concealed. “You do?”

“Your father has already said he would consider the matter. I shall use that time to come calling on you regularly. I shall make you see that we are the perfect match.”

In your dreams, she thought instantly. But what was this about her father agreeing to consider the matter? Shouldn’t he have dismissed it out of hand? What was he thinking?

“Lord Laphroig.” She gave him her most charming smile. “Do you not already have a wife? Are you not already spoken for?”

A cloud of gloom settled over his froggy features. “Unfortunately, no. A terrible tragedy has occurred. My son passed away quite suddenly less than two weeks ago. Dear little Andrutten. A fever took him. My wife, in her grief, chose to follow him into that dark realm of death, and now both are gone and I am left alone and bereft of family.”

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard,” she said, embarrassed by her ignorance.

She remembered his wife, a pale, slender woman with white-blond hair and sad eyes. There were stories about that marriage, and none of them was good. She had never seen their child.

He bowed anew. “Your condolences mean everything.”

“I should think you would be in mourning for them,” she suggested pointedly. “For a suitable time before courting anyone.”

He shook his head as if she were clueless. “I will be in mourning for them forever. But duty calls, and I must answer. A Lord of Rhyndweir requires a wife and sons if he is to fulfill his duties. I must not leave the Lordship imperiled, even for as long as thirty days. I must provide an heir to reassure my people.”

Whatever this was about, Mistaya was certain that it had nothing to do with duty and obligation. Laphroig was up to something, just as he was always up to something, and somehow his machinations had found their way to her doorstep. She decided to lock and bar the door before it could be forced.

“My Lord, I am hardly a suitable match for you,” she declared. “I am young and naive and not yet well trained in the art of wifely duties.” She nearly gagged on this part. “I am best suited for continued study at an institution of higher learning—as I am sure my father has told you.”

Laphroig cocked his head. “It was my understanding that you had been dismissed from Carrington.”

She stared at him, sudden anger boiling up as she realized that only a spy could have provided such information. “I intend to continue my education elsewhere.”

He smiled. “This in no way hinders my plans for you. You can be tutored at Rhyndweir castle for as long and extensively as you like. Tutors can be engaged to educate you on any subject.” He paused. “Save those only a husband can teach.”

She flushed bright red despite herself. “My Lord, I think you fail to understand the situation—”