Dom laughed. “Is there a prize if I do?”
Tess stopped, turned, and faced him, planting her handson her hips. “Are you only motivated by riches, Mr. Prince?” she asked cheekily.
Dom stepped closer to her on the narrow walkway, bound on one side by centuries-old stones and the other by a modern wrought-iron rail. They were forced into close quarters along the tight path, but it wasn’t close enough.
“The only prize I want, Miss Hawthorne, is a kiss from you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Tess wanted to kiss him too. From the moment he’d come to find her at Fenbridge’s, it had grown like a deep-seated craving.
“Tell me, then, about the treasure associated with the castle.”
He lifted his hand and made a circle with his fingers just touching the inner tip of his thumb. “Imagine a rounded blood-red gem. A crimson spinel from Spain. Imagine a Spanish king challenged by his brother and in need of allies.”
Tess listened rapt, the way she used to when her father told a story from history as if he was recounting a tale of Shakespearean proportions.
“Desperate to hold onto power, King Peter of Castile looked to England. To Queen Isabella’s grandson.”
“The Black Prince.”
Dom smiled. “The very one, and he gave his aid... for a price. Two of the Castilian king’s daughters to marry his sons and one gem as fat as a hen’s egg.”
Tess knew of the red spinel because it was wrapped up in the history of England’s royalty, and those annals had fascinated her father as much as they did Tess and her brother.
“And you know where that big red jewel is now, don’t you?” he asked as if fully confident of her answer.
“Since our queen had it added to her imperial crown, Isuspect it’s sitting safe and well-guarded in the Tower of London.”
“One of these days, we should go see it together, and I’ll tell you the full story of my sister’s escapade related to the crown jewels.”
Tess swallowed hard, and Dom looked immediately chagrined as if he realized he’d misstepped without meaning to.
The notion that they’d go on a visit to see the royal regalia or spend their days in the future together as they often did now was tantalizing. It made her heart yearn for things she knew were foolish. And that she could not allow.
“An admirable recitation,” she told him rather than mentioning how wistful his words had made her. Then she turned toward the hollow interior of the castle, imagining the lives lived inside its strong, thick walls.
Dom took up a spot next to her. So close, she felt instantly warmer and could smell his spice and citrus shaving soap.
“I wonder if the gem was ever inside these walls,” he said quietly, as if imagining the past noise, colorful people, and finery that would have been a part of the notorious queen’s household.
“It’s unlikely,” Tess told him without looking his way. “The queen died in 1358. The Black Prince was already installed in his own castle in Hertfordshire.”
“You’re encyclopedic,” he said with an undisguised admiration. “I always struggle to recall precise dates, though I realize that’s a dreadful thing for Octavius Prince’s son to admit.”
“I forget dates sometimes too, though my father encouraged memorization,” she admitted. “Tristan and I read whatever history books he’d lend or gift to us, and we each kept a journal and drew out a timeline where we’d plot out events and details we’d learned.”
Dom’s arm tensed where it rested against hers. She glanced over and noticed his jaw had tightened too. “I understand having a demanding father.”
“Oh, he never demanded anything of us, except to have good manners and not run wild. Of course, Tristan ran wild regardless.”
They exchanged a grin.
“But was it hard to live up to the example he set?” he asked her.
Tess frowned. “He never expected us to be as erudite about history as he was. In fact, when Tristan showed aptitude at mathematics, Father encouraged him to pursue it at university.”
“And did he?”
