“But you didn’t even get me to any of the best parties, or to your own dinner.”
“Your parents’ first payment only covered so much,” Lady Constance said. “I have been waiting for the next installments. But I did find you Marcus and the baron.”
“What does Marcus get out of it?”
“Oh, he’s a typical broke Englishman,” Lady Constance said gaily. “All of their assets are tied up in the land and the estate. They’re practically penniless.”
Ronan began to laugh. “Well, then he was barking up the wrong tree if he thought I could change his fortune.” They thought she was a rich American, a Van Owen—because of the dresses—because of the royal suite at Claridge…of course. It all made sense now.
“Pardon?”
“We’re broke, Lady Connie,” Ronan said. “Penniless as your friends. It’s why Mother couldn’t pay the rest of your so-called fee. But here, you’ve had some wonderful teas on my friend’s account. Perhaps I will let you take care of this one.”
Later that afternoon, Vera told her she had another visitor. When her governess left the room, Wolf entered. He was paying her a proper call at last.
“You came back to me,” she said, rushing to his arms, but he held himself back and gave her only a stiff hug.
“No, Ronan. I have come to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?”
It was as Lady Constance had said earlier, that of course the negotiated treaty still stood—and there was no better way to meet its obligation than to have the prince who was still alive marry the princess. That was his job, after all—his purpose in life—to fulfill promises and responsibilities in case his brother failed to deliver.
“I am sorry,” Wolf said. “I have no choice in the matter.”
“Do you love her?” she asked, tears in her eyes.
“I am fond of Marie. She is an old friend of mine.” Wolf did not elaborate. He did not tell her about the admiration he felt for her: how smart and strong and brave she was, how she had saved the empire from destruction and war. He said none of these things to Ronan.
“Because there are other ways…kings and consorts…” Ronan said, her voice low. “I do not care. I only want to be with you. I want to be at your side, at every occasion. I will be in the shadows, but I will love you. I just want to be with you. I will be your mistress if you want, but let me love you. Let me stay with you. Please.”
Wolf shook his head, appalled. “No. I will not do to you what my brother did to Isabelle. I will not have you ruined and debauched. I will let you go. I have to let you go.”
“No—please—don’t say these things, you can’t mean them—we only just found each other…”
“It must be done,” Wolf said firmly. “You must forget about me, Ronan, and build a life for yourself. Find a man who is free to love you. Find someone who is worthy of you. You think too little of yourself, and of your worth. You’re more than just a beautiful girl from New York. You are worth more than any titled aristocrat. You can make your own fortune. I can help you, if you want. I can be a good friend to you.”
“But you will not be my husband,” Ronan cried. “Or my lover.”
“No, Ronan, I cannot,” he said. “That part of our relationship has ended.”
“Then I will leave court and go back to New York,” Ronan said. “I will marry Marcus!” she threatened. “Or the baron!”
“If you must,” Wolf said, and his face was tired and drawn, distant. This was not the boy who’d held her in the garden. That boy had also died that night. This was the prince and heir to the throne. “Think about what I am offering, and do what you need to do—but this is good-bye, Ronan.”
When Wolf arrived back at the palace, he was told by the butler that Marie had asked him to go to the small drawing room and wait for her there. When Marie entered, she found Wolf sitting on his favorite chair, his shoulders slumped. He looked just like he did when he was a little boy. Her favorite friend, she thought. “Pup,” she called. “You’re back.”
He turned and saw her at the door. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “Helmet head.”
She t
ook a seat next to him and they both looked out at the garden. The tents were gone now, and the courtyard where Leo had been shot only a few days ago was scrubbed clean. Everything, it seemed, would be scrubbed clean…a prince was dead, but a new prince had been offered in his place.
They stared at the garden for what seemed like a very long time. They’d both had such different dreams for their lives, but their lives had led them back here, to this room, to each other.
“Did you love him? A silly question,” Wolf said. “Of course you loved him. You were going to run away with him. You were going to give up everything for him.”
She did not answer, because the answer was clear. “The American girl whom you were embracing in the hallway earlier. Her name is Ronan, isn’t it?” she asked.