Page 50 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘Yes,’ she said glumly. ‘I’ve failed my family. Though that’s one part of my curse I don’t regret. Very few daughters of dukes marry for love.’

‘But you want to.’

She shrugged. ‘I think everyone wants to.’

‘But your curse makes you unmarriageable.’

She winced. ‘The evidence would suggest that.’

‘So you must find a way to hope.’ He touched the back of her hand and she felt a tingle all the way up her arm. ‘Tell me about your curse so that I can break it.’

Chapter Sixteen

Deva didn’t believe in curses, per se. Belief in sorcerers and evil forces was common in Siam and rampant in the harem where he was raised. But he had never seen proof that such magic existed.

He had, however, seen the power of belief. Whether or not magic was real, once people believed you were cursed, there was nothing you could do to break the string of bad luck. Vaji was proof of that. His curse was not real but everyone treated him as if it were. It had been a surprise to find that northerners rarely noticed the shape of an earlobe. They had no idea that a deformed ear was an evil sign.

Clearly, the English believed in different curses. And they believed in Lady Anna’s curse. He leaned forwards.

‘Start by telling me the effects of this curse.’

‘Very well,’ she said, weariness in her tone. ‘I cannot seem to do what everyone else does. Not easily. And no matter how I try to be circumspect, gossip always follows me.’

‘There is always gossip. It is the price of being important.’

She snorted. ‘Few people are less important than I.’

She was titled and wealthy. That made her important but he didn’t argue that. ‘Then it is because of your beauty.’

She glanced sharply at him, then released a warm chuckle. ‘That’s kind of you to say but I am no more or less lovely than the next girl. Indeed, I am less because I’m almost thirty.’

He disagreed. Her features were well formed with no signs of disease and her eyes held a man as if under a spell. Every time he looked at her, his gaze settled on the shape and colour of her eyes. Subtle changes there gave him clues to her thoughts and he was fascinated by that. By her.

‘Many of my father’s wives were very young. These girls were called great beauties, worthy of a king’s attention. He married them for political reasons and yet all I saw were children.’ He shook his head, repressing a shudder. ‘I could not marry a child. You look and act as a woman. The other women last night? They look and act like girls.’

She blinked, clearly startled. ‘Do you truly think so?’

He huffed out a frustrated breath. ‘I have no reason to flatter you. You have no power of your own and no influence over those who do. Not even over your own father.’

‘My father would be the first to dismiss anything I say.’

‘More fool him because a well-placed woman hears many things.’

Her eyes widened. He did love how they changed when he surprised her.

‘In addition,’ he continued, ‘you have already refused marriage to me. There is no advantage to false speech between us. Where there is no advantage, why would I lie?’

‘I have a cousin who lies by habit. He says he likes keeping people guessing.’

‘Lies create suffering for all. Even the kindest lie slows one’s path to enlightenment. Honesty is the first step off the Wheel of Suffering.’

She smiled. ‘You say the most extraordinary things.’

‘I could say the same of you.’

‘I say ordinary things.’

‘I tire of you assuming I lie,’ he snapped. ‘Were we in Siam, I would fling you from my presence in fury. It is an insult to deny the words of the Golden Throne.’