had grown older and placed more value on his privacy. Russell’s expression was grim as he replied, “I am.”
Her eyes widened as she felt her heart jump. She hadn’t known that. She’d had no reason to know that. “You?”
He nodded. “According to the rules of succession of Silvershire. Weston ascended the throne because King Dunford had no sons, no children of his own. There were two dukes he felt were equal to the task. Everyone felt he was leaning toward Lord Benton Vladimir. But then he suddenly changed his mind and chose Weston to be the present king.”
Thoughts she didn’t want to entertain began whispering along the perimeter of Amelia’s brain. And if she could think them, so could others who were less charitable. Others who didn’t love Russell.
Amelia pressed her lips together as she looked at him. “If the prince died under suspicious circumstances—if he was murdered—someone might think that you had something to do with it.”
She thought about the night they had spent together. Had that prompted Russell to rethink his position and take matters into his own hands? Was she the reason behind what had happened to the prince? Or could Russell have conceived an elaborate plan to capture the crown and she had blindly played into his hands?
No! How could she even think that way? Amelia upbraided herself. Russell was too honorable a man to be guilty of something like that. She was willing to bet her life on that.
On what? a small voice demanded. On a man she hardly knew? On a boy who used to put bugs into her bed? She didn’t really know the man who stood before her, she reminded herself. She only knew the boy he had been. A great many years had come and gone between then and now.
Amelia felt torn. Logic pointed one way, but she refused to believe that her heart would have led her astray like that. There was goodness in Russell, she could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. She had no answer for it; she just did.
His eyes met hers. “Do you?” He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Something froze inside him. “Do you think I had something to do with it?”
“No.”
Amelia had hesitated for a moment. If she’d believed in him, she wouldn’t have, he thought. “But you’re not sure.”
She knew that protests were useless. He could see right through her. She could only tell him the truth. “Can I swear to it in a courtroom on a stack of Bibles? No. Because I don’t have any way of actually knowing where you were every moment. But do I doubt your loyalty to the crown? No. Do I think that you are a murderer? No.”
His eyes held hers for a long moment as he thought of the night they’d spent together. The night that should never have happened.
“My loyalty to the crown could come under question,” he reminded her quietly.
She drew her shoulders back. “That wasn’t a matter of loyalty.”
That was exactly a matter of loyalty, he thought. “Then what was it?”
“A matter of two kindred spirits coming together.” From out of nowhere, a thought occurred to her. “Or was that out of pity?” she asked suddenly.
“What?”
Amelia shook her head. She was just being overwrought, she thought. She shouldn’t have said anything. “Never mind.”
But he didn’t want to let it drop. “No, what did you mean by that? Was there anything that entire time that could make you suspect what happened was even remotely inspired by an emotion as condescending as pity?”
He sounded hurt, offended. She hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. “No. I’m sorry. This whole situation is extremely distressing. I came here to be married to a man whose reputation I loathed—since he’s gone, I don’t see the point in hiding that,” she said in response to the look in his eyes. “Now that he’s dead, am I free of my obligation? Or am I, by default, betrothed to the next man in line?” She looked at him. “To you.”
He measured out his words evenly. There seemed to be no emotion behind them. “Would that be so terrible?”
She took a breath. To his surprise she said, “That all depends.”
“On what?”
“On how you feel about it.”
He couldn’t gauge by her voice how she felt about it herself. “How do you think I feel?”
Her temper came very close to breaking. “If I knew, would I be asking? A wondrous night of lovemaking does not automatically mean you want a lifetime of those nights. Sometimes magic is just that, magic. Meant for a hour, a night, not forever.”
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t want to have to marry me.”
Why did she suddenly feel like weeping? That wasn’t like her, but she was so tired of being a pawn. “I’m saying I don’t want to have to marry anyone, just as you don’t want to be told who to marry. Marriage is a commitment that should come from the heart, not from a committee. The piece of paper involved should be a marriage certificate, not a treaty between two countries. I am a person, not a pawn.” And then, like someone waking up from a bad dream, she stopped and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, I had to get that out.”
Russell inclined his head. “I understand, Princess.”
She pressed her lips together again, impatience, frustration and a host of other emotions vying for control over her.
“‘Princess,’” she echoed, shaking her head. “We are embroiled in intrigue, in murder and in heaven knows what else. We’ve slept together and might very well be married to each other before the week is out. My name is not ‘Princess,’ my name is Amelia.”
The unexpected noise behind her sent adrenaline racing throughout her body. Amelia swung around to see that her father had entered the room and with him were several of his men. His complexion was flushed. Had he overheard her?
Chapter 10
Startled, it took Amelia a moment to rally. Since she acted as her country’s representative in a great many diverse situations, her training under fire had been extensive. No one would have guessed that inside, she was still the young girl who had once tried so desperately to curry her father’s favor.
Aware that the king had to have heard at least the end of her conversation with Russell and knowing that her father was far from a stupid man, she assumed he had put two and two together. But now was not the time to be upbraided for “conduct unbecoming.” She was quick to throw the focus onto something that really mattered.
“Father, have you heard about the prince?”
The king’s expression was grim as he nodded. “Terrible thing. Terrible thing,” he repeated. “King Weston is beside himself. I tried to do what I could to comfort him, but this is a matter that will take a great deal of time for him to come to grips with. I’m told he collapsed when he received the news.”
Russell felt a pang of guilt, but since the king had not addressed the remark to him, he said nothing.
“Reginald
