“You don’t know how he feels. Write to him. Find out if he would like to see you again.”
“And what good would that do?” She leapt to her feet and paced to the window. “The whole thing is hopeless.”
“It’s only hopeless if you do not try. But even if you are right about Nick,” Ariadne continued after a minute, “and he doesn’t love you as he should, it doesn’t change the fact that you do not wish to marry Otto. You owe it to yourself to talk to Rupert and tell him you do not want to proceed with the marriage.”
Emma considered for a moment, wishing her friend could possibly be right. “But he wants this union ; the country requires it. Rupert isn’t going to let me back out.”
“Then find a way to make him. You aren’t officially engaged yet, so it’s not too late.”
“But it is. Oh, Arie, can’t you see that it’s just no use?” Emma said, tossing up her hands.
“Maybe Arie’s right,” Mercedes said, finally joining the conversation.
“What…?”
“I am…?”
Emma and Ariadne spoke at the same time, both of them shifting to stare at her.
Mercedes ignored their amazed expressions. “I think you should talk to your brother, Emma—”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Emma interrupted.
“Yes, I have, and I know how unhappy you are,” Mercedes said. “Talk to him. Tell him you have changed your mind about the betrothal.”
“It will never work,” she said dismally. “He’ll want to know why and I cannot tell him about Nick.”
“Then don’t. Discuss the subject as a hypothetical. Say you have reservations and would prefer not to marry at present. Your feelings for Nick needn’t ever enter into the conversation.”
“He isn’t going to agree,” Emma said again. Still, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the hope that rose traitorously in her breast.
“Perhaps,” Mercedes said quietly. “But as I said, you won’t know until you try.”
Chapter 20
The following afternoon, Emma walked into Rupert’s private office—or rather the suite of rooms on the first floor that he had chosen to serve that function during his time in England.
Rather than delay the interview, she’d decided it best to go ahead and approach him before she lost her nerve. But now that she was here, she wondered if she ought not to have come at all. She loved her brother, but he could be an extremely intimidating man, more so even than their autocratic father had been prior to his illness. Still, as both Mercedes and Ariadne had pointed out, she owed it to herself to try to end her upcoming betrothal before it was too late to escape.
As for her and Nick and whether there was any hope of a future for them, it did nothing to change the fact that she did not want to marry King Otto. Even if he turned out to be the most pleasing monarch in all of Europe, she couldn’t imagine sharing a marriage bed with him, let alone a life. Not after Nick.
She shuddered now to think of being touched by anyone but him. He really has ruined me for other men, she thought wistfully.
Crossing the room, she sat on one of the pair of Chippendale chairs positioned in front of Rupert’s massive satinwood desk and waited for him to acknowledge her.
He continued working, his head bent as he wrote with swift strokes across a large piece of parchment. At length he laid down the quill and carefully sanded the page before placing it aside. Only then did he look up, his midnight blue eyes meeting hers over the tops of the half-moon spectacles on his nose.
Smiling, he slowly he removed the glasses and set them aside as well. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Imperial business that cannot wait.”
“I understand and am sorry to intrude.”
“Not at all; you’ve been most patient. If it were not important, I am sure you wouldn’t have asked to speak with me. I presume you haven’t come to request an increase in your allowance so you can buy a new evening gown or a pair of emerald-encrusted slippers?”
“No,” she said, surprised. “Did Sigrid really ask for the funds to buy a pair of emerald-encrusted slippers?”
“No, she bought them and had the bill sent to me.”
Emma smiled and lowered her gaze, resisting the urge to laugh. Leave it to Sigrid never to be anything less than bold.
“If you are not in need of pin money, then how may I help?” Rupert inquired, leaning back in his finely wrought armchair.
The need to laugh evaporated as quickly as it had come. Inwardly, she rallied, forcing herself to proceed. “I wanted to ask… that is to discuss… What I mean to say is that I wish to talk about my upcoming engagement.”