Sophie withheld a grimace. “There is such a thing as taking passion to extremes,” she replied, opting for diplomacy. “And my abduction was not as pleasant as romantic novels purport it to be.”
“Wasn’t it? Truly?”
Lady Skye laughed at her cousin’s show of surprise. “Kate, you know you would be livid if some man abducted you against your will.”
“Very likely I would. I’m known to have a temper in keeping with my reddish hair,” she said agreeably, brushing back a rich auburn tendril. “But I suppose my reaction would depend on the man and the reason for my abduction. And even if you don’t consider Jack’s gesture romantic, Miss Fortin, your legendary lovers tale more than makes up for it. I know Romeo and Juliet was a tragedy, but you must admit, the plight of star-crossed lovers is very romantic.”
“Unless you are the one who is star-crossed,” Sophie pointed out.
Skye spoke up again. “I think you and Jack were made for each other.”
“I’m not so certain.” Sophie glanced around her splendid bedchamber. She was unaccustomed to such opulence, but Jack was right at home in this glittering sphere; all the lords and ladies of the Wilde clan were. A palace was their proper milieu.
The grandeur was a reminder of their different stations, Sophie reflected. Jack was the wealthy son of foreign royalty and she was a not-quite-penniless British commoner, and if he became an actual prince of Navartania, the divide between them would be that much greater.
“I admit to being awestruck by this vast display of wealth,” she commented. “I may not be cut out to be a royal princess, ruling over a foreign country.”
“Of course you are,” Skye declared. “Moreover, Jack wasn’t born a prince. His birth wasn’t even legitimate.”
“But he was raised in a noble household at least. And if he claims his birthright, the differences in our stations and fortunes will be more significant.”
Lady Katharine waved her hand in dismissal. “If you love each other, class and wealth and country don’t matter one whit.”
“But he doesn’t love me,” Sophie said before she could stop herself.
“How do you know?”
She hesitated, cautious about divulging more of Jack’s secrets. “He has said as much, on more than one occasion.”
Skye’s eyebrows shot up. “I cannot believe Jack would be so heartless as to tell you so, even if it were true. Besides, if he doesn’t love you, why would he go to all this trouble for you?”
She knew the answer to that question. “He is merely being quixotic, wanting to save me from a mismatched union with the duke.”
Katharine looked thoughtful. “What about you, Miss Fortin? Do you honestly not care for Jack?”
Sophie glanced away. “That isn’t the issue. I could never let him make such a sacrifice. He loathes the very thought of reuniting with his father.”
“I know.” Katharine sighed but then her optimism rebounded. “I still believe true love will win out in the end. You and Jack could have the kind of romance every woman dreams of.”
Sophie felt herself flush but refrained from replying. It would serve no purpose to confess that her feelings for Jack had gone far, far beyond dreams.
At the same time Sophie was enduring the ladies’ inquiry, Quinn was interrogating Jack in the salon, having remained behind for a private word.
“I’m still astounded you even ventured here, considering how much you hate de Villars,” Quinn stated at once.
“I admit I’ve astounded myself,” Jack replied.
“What in hell came over you? That summer Prince Raoul succeeded to the throne, when he wrote and offered to make you his heir, you threatened to visit his country only for the satisfaction of beating his face to a bloody pulp. In fact, I recall you vowing to run him through with a sword.”
“Circumstances have changed since then. And the likelihood that he’s dying makes him more sympathetic.” As did Sophie’s soft heart, Jack reflected.
“So you mean to accept his offer?”
“It depends on Sophie.”
Quinn let out a low whistle and ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “Pray don’t tell me you actually believe she is your destiny.”
Quinn was the most cynical of all the Wilde cousins and put no credence in Kate’s mad theory of legendary lovers. “I’m not ready to go so far.”