Page 40 of Second Chance Prince
Roberta stood up, then sat down again. She wasn’t sure what to do, she just knew that she must speak to Niki. “Then I will wait until he is done,” she said firmly.
She could tell Matilda wanted to argue but something about Roberta’s expression must have warned her that it would do her no good. And when Roberta added, “I can sit in my carriage outside your gates if you wish, but it may cause some gossip,” Matilda accepted that she had lost the battle.
Matilda was kind enough to find her a corner in a room she used for writing letters and embroidery, and Roberta was brought tea and cake. She found she was hungry despite the twisting worry in her stomach, but she made the food last as long as possible. When she finally finished, she sat and waited in silence, broken only by muffled sounds from the rest of the house and the ticking of Matilda’s mantel clock.
After a while, she began to feel sleepy. The cake had been so good, she had probably eaten too much of it, and when her eyes closed for the third time, she let them stay closed.
Estelle’s wan, pale, tearstained face stared back at her. It hurt to think this had happened, and it hurt even more when Roberta acknowledged that it was she who had brought her friend and Karl together. If only she hadn’t asked Estelle to come with her to the theater. That theater performance had been a disaster inmore ways than one.
She wasn’t even sure what Niki could do, but she knew he would help her friend. She trusted him, she believed he was a good man, and no matter what happened to them in the future, she hoped that trust would never die.
It was so comfortable in her chair in her tucked-away room. By the time far away church bells rang out the hour, Roberta was fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Niki was beyond weary and had been on his way up to bed when his aunt’s call stopped him. The hours he had spent with Chamberlain Francis had been far more upsetting than he could ever have imagined. Once the old man had discussed the business of the Holtswig council, he had turned to Niki’s single state. Then, as Niki had feared, he had produced a list of names and details for the women he believed suitable for the job of marrying the prince. He had even arranged for sketches of each woman in the hope that Niki would see them and fall instantly in love.
Niki had found it distasteful and pointless, and although he had tried to feign interest, he suspected Francis knew him too well to be fooled. To take this step, the old man must suspect it was Roberta who Niki wanted, and he was trying to guide him away from her by reminding him of his duty to Holtswig and its people. Niki did not need to be reminded of his duties, but he also wanted more than to sacrifice himself to them. He was no martyr. He needed someone in his life who saw the real man, who would lift his spirits when they were low and stand by him no matter what happened. He needed Roberta, and those moments with Francis had brought him to the cold, hard realization that no one else would do.
Francis had gone on and on, and when Niki stopped listening, he had turned the talk to whoever was trying to kill Niki. He had been to visit the assassin and did not recognize him. “Thereare so many of these hotheaded young men about these days. They all look the same.” Then he had tried to convince him that his association with Roberta was making matters worse.Look at her admirer, Walter, he said,and the damage he did with his letter. A woman like that is not the right choice for your princess.He had even suggested Niki might be deposed if he dared to marry her.
Niki had always trusted and listened to the old man, and he felt a deep affection for him. Francis had been there when his father and grandfather had died, and he had stepped into the gap they’d left. But now he was disappointed. He understood Francis’s main loyalty was to his country, but surely he could see Niki’s point of view? Why couldn’t he sympathize?
In the end, Niki had informed the chamberlain that he was going to bed and so should he. He was on his way up the stairs, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, when Matilda called to him.
He turned to her and blurrily tried to understand what her words meant. “Roberta ishere?”
“Yes. She has been here for several hours now. I am sorry, Niki, but I didn’t want to interrupt you and the chamberlain.”
He shook his head. “You should have,” he said angrily. “Where is she?”
“She said she would not leave until she had seen you. Come, I will take you to her.”
He followed her, his anger restoring his depleted energy. Roberta was here. She wanted to speak to him, and all the time, he had been closeted with Francis discussing other women he had no intention of marrying.
The room was gloomy, the fire unlit and only a single lamp to shed light on Roberta. She was curled up in a chair, her cheek onher palm, sound asleep. Matilda gave Niki a stricken look and then backed out of the room and closed the door.
He waited a moment, enjoying the sight of her, but when she didn’t seem about to wake, he reached down to touch her gently on the shoulder. Roberta blinked, eyes opening, and then she smiled as if seeing him was everything to her. His heart seemed to swell in his chest, but he didn’t have long to enjoy the moment because the next instant she sprang up and caught his hands in a ferocious grip, at the same time her hair came loose and tumbled down around her.
“Niki! Oh, thank goodness!” she gasped.
“Roberta?” He didn’t have to pretend to be disturbed by her behavior. “What is it? Is someone unwell?” It was all he could think of that could have upset her so—he knew how important her family was to her.
“No. At least…” She swallowed and stared into his eyes. “Niki, it’s my friend Estelle. And Karl.”
He heard the words, and even as he tried to make sense of them, a feeling of dread was growing inside him. “Karl?” he repeated. “What about him?”
She told him the whole story, words running together as they spilled out of her, and it was a tale he had heard many times before. Karl had been seducing women since he was a boy. Their father even encouraged his eldest son and appeared to enjoy listening to his tales of conquest over the many women he had inveigled into his arms and his bed. It had sickened Niki then, and it sickened him now.
Roberta’s painful grip on his hands brought him back from his thoughts to the room and the woman before him.
She was gazing at him intently. She wanted him to act, andso he would. Karl must be made to face up to what he had done and shoulder his responsibilities, but Niki knew neither would be easy. There was more at stake here than a wronged woman when Karl was the brother of a prince.
He lifted her hands and kissed them, one after another, and then folded them together. “I need to send for him,” he said. “Perhaps you should go home.”
“No!” she cried. “I want to see him too. I want to tell him—”
He would have liked to argue but what was the point? He could see she was determined, her mouth had a mulish look, and his Roberta was as stubborn and strong-willed as one of those creatures.
