“Hurtheven,” Hera said in disbelief, “didn’t trust his own eloquence?”
“Shocking, I know.” Penelope nodded. “His arrogance has completely disappeared, at least in this, his most important calling.”
“And have you delivered his message?”
“Now, let me see.... I believe his exact instructions were to ask permission for him to pay court—a courtship, of course, that will include your daughter.”
Hera’s hand had unwittingly crept up to rest against her heart. She could hardly believe what she heard.
“If you’d like my opinion, I think you should marry Hurtheven.” Pen unknowingly echoed her interpretation of Ash’s words to the duke.
You should marry, Hurtheven.
You should marry Hurtheven.
Hera gave a short, involuntary laugh. “I didn’t know how much trouble could be caused by a preposition and a comma.”
Pen wrinkled her brow. “Pardon?”
“Never mind.” Hera pressed her hand against her cheek. “For now, tell him this—I would be honored to present him to Annis.”
ChapterThirteen
“Well, son.” Sir Lawton handed Hurtheven a set of keys, stretching his arm over the expanse of his large desk inside the home office. “I don’t know what you think you will find in the house we leased to Prince Karl while he was in London—nor do I understand your reason for being inquisitive, but now that his death has been confirmed, you are welcome to look.”
Hurtheven nodded. The keys jangled as he slipped them into his pocket. “Are you sure nothing about his death was suspicious at all?”
Sir Lawton lifted a brow. “You knew him better—Karl had plenty of enemies. But, at present, it looks like a case of footpads.”
His godfather wasn’t an expressive man, but there was something in the way the man’s eyes shifted that made Hurtheven believe he hadn’t been told the whole.
No matter.
Prince Karl could no longer hurt Hera or her child, and that was all that mattered to him. ...but it wouldn’t be all that mattered to Hera.
“And what has the home office learned of his children?” Hurtheven asked.
Sir Lawton glanced up sharply. “Did you meet his children when you were in Vienna?”
“No,” Hurtheven replied carefully. “But I’ve...an interest.”
“They were, to the best of my knowledge, given over to their mother’s family,” Sir Lawton replied. “The family resides in Switzerland, just outside Geneva.”
They were safe.
His former guardian templed his fingers in a way Hurtheven knew well. Sir Lawton then waited for Hurtheven to reveal the purpose of his inquiries.
Suddenly, Hurtheven was again a young boy.
Unsure of how much he should reveal, given that he had not yet spoken with Hera, he held his silence. Instead, he reached out and straightened the ink tray on Lawton’s desk.
“I trust Ithwick and Ashbey are well?” Lawton asked, finally.
“Thriving,” Hurtheven answered. “I spent a good deal of time with Ashbey’s children of late.”
“And”—Lawton cleared his throat—“with their governess?”
Hurtheven frowned.
