Page 102 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"Er, well, he's nice." I winced. "He's interesting. He's been kind to me." Most of the time, I might have added, if I were being honest. "He's extraordinarily clever, highly capable at everything, and not someone who should be crossed without good reason."
What else should I tell him? That he'd been brought up by a cold man, who turned out to be a killer, and servants who didn't care for him? Should I tell Lincoln's father that his son had difficulty trusting and loving because of that upbringing? That he never cared for his own wellbeing until recently? That he would have turned out vastly different if only his mother had been allowed to keep him and love him? That he was chosen to lead the ministry because he was the son of the prince himself?
"Is he a good leader?" he asked. "Do his mean respect him?"
"Very much so." Except for the occasional jibe out of his hearing, but I didn't think the prince cared about that. "Perhaps you ought to visit him and get to know him better."
"Why would I want to do that?"
I blinked. "I—I don't know."
"He's better off not knowing me beyond our current interactions. I can do nothing for him, be nothing to him." He spoke as if he knew I was aware he was Lincoln's father. He probably assumed Leisl had mentioned it. "Does he see his mother much?"
The question surprised me. "No. He never met her until that night at the Hothfields’ ball."
"He was brought up by English parents? Thought so. Explains his accent, his bearing, manners, what have you. Best thing Leisl could have done for him, giving him up. But he knew who she was at the ball?"
"He did," I managed to say.
"And has he seen her since?"
"No."
He nodded approval. "Very wise. It could damage his reputation if his relationship to her gets out."
"It hasn't damaged your reputation," I spat before I could check myself. "Your highenss," I added in a vain hope to appease him.
He bristled. His nostrils flared. I wished the chair would swallow me up.
"I mean…that is…"
His face softened. "She did announce it to the entire bloody world that night," he muttered. "Thank God it hasn't got into the papers. My mother would box my ears."
"May I be so bold as to ask you something a little personal?"
"My disapproval hasn't stopped you speaking up so far."
My face heated again, but I forged on. "You must have cared for Leisl then. If I could tell Lincoln that his parents were in love, it might…" I shrugged, no longer sure what I wanted to achieve. Did Lincoln even care if his parents had feelings for one another?
The prince shifted in his chair and studied his glass again. After a moment, he drank the contents to the last drop. He set the glass down on the table beside him with very deliberate, slow movements. "You are bold."
"So Lincoln tells me."
"You're close."
"He's asked me to marry him."
His eyes flared wide. "I see."
I didn't think he was interested because he cared about Lincoln's life, or mine, but because he wanted to know how much he could trust me. A mere employee or casual friend shouldn't hear certain things, but a lover was a different matter.
"I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you, Miss Holloway. Love played no part in what occurred between Leisl and me. Not on my part, and I'd hazard a guess not on hers either. We came together for reasons I can't entirely put into words. She was very beautiful, certainly, but I see beautiful women every day." He studied his hands, clasped lightly in his lap. "I don't know why I stooped so low. Agypsy." He shook his head. "She worked at the fair, for God's sake. She told fortunes. I must have been mad." He looked at me, parted his hands, turning up the palms. "There you have it. It was madness that brought us together. How else to explain it? We were two people from very different worlds, with nothing in common, who probably couldn't think of two words to say to one another under normal circumstances. But something came over us that day. Something I cannot fully explain. I simplyhadto be with her. It was like a compulsion."
Did he mean lust? Had Leisl used her beauty to lure him to her bed because she knew about the prophecy? Or had fate stepped in and thrown them together?
"Thank you for your honesty, your highness."
"Will you pass on what I said to Mr. Fitzroy?"
