“Tradesman's authority. A servant.”

“I suppose we mustn't judge without seeing her. We might be able to make something of her.”

“You don't mean you're considering this monstrous idea for one moment?”

He led her back to the window and looked out over the great park. This way it was easier to voice his thoughts.

“It's not a matter of what I will agree to. My authority ended the moment we discovered that I was illegitimate. Now I'm not even royal. Dorothea Hebden is the rightful heir to the throne of Elluria.”

“Have you thought she might be married?”

“Sigmund seems sure that she isn't.”

“I see,” Sophie said quietly.

Something in her tone made him put his arms around her. “I left soon after that because I could see the way Durmand's mind was working, and I didn't like it. My dear, how can I forget that when I offered to release you from our engagement, you refused, and stood by me so steadfastly?”

“You thought I'd turn my back on you because you had no crown to offer?”

“If I did, I was wrong,” he said tenderly. “No man could ask for more courage and loyalty that you've shown me-”

“But you may have to marry this other woman,” she interrupted him. “Perhaps it will be you who breaks our engagement, for duty. I understand, and you are free. But if it doesn't come to that-” she broke off, her voice husky.

Randolph was confused and embarrassed. From the country's point of view the ideal solution was for him to marry Princess Dorothea, “this interloper” as he thought of her. Then, under the guise of being her consort, he would rule Elluria as he had been raised to do, and nobody would care about his feelings for Sophie, or hers for him.

He'd never pretended to be in love with her, but they were friends, and he was furious at being required to behave badly toward her. It offended his sense of himself, and there was much haughty pride in it. But there was also much generosity. The situation was very bitter to him, and not merely on his own account.