A March Bride (A Year of Weddings 1 #4)(6)

“I realize that government business has gotten in the way a bit, yes.”

“This is not about government business. Look, I’ve been dumped before, Nathaniel. I’m aware of the signs.”

“Susanna, I am not Adam Peters.”

“Then what?” She grabbed his arm. “Do you think it’s not going to work with me as your wife? Are you sorry—”

“No, Susanna, no.” He grabbed her shoulders as he peered down at her with blue sincerity, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. “Quite the opposite. I fear you will regret saying yes to me.”





Nathaniel tried to relax the tension from his bones as he walked Susanna up the broad, grand staircase to her Parrsons House suite.

They had put off talking after their small confrontation at the Chadweths’. It wasn’t the place or time. Since then, they’d barely had a moment to themselves. They’d departed the garden party for a dinner at the American ambassador’s home with only enough time to change wardrobes. It had been a long Friday.

“Are you coming in?” Susanna stood in the doorway, waiting.

Nathaniel tried to discern from her tone and posture whether his answer should be yes or no. “Actually, that’d be lovely.”

She led the way in, slipping off her jacket, passing through the suite’s teakwood foyer to the living room.

The clock on the fireplace mantel chimed eleven bells.

For three more weeks, this would be her home. Then she’d move to Nathaniel’s palace apartment and this suite would become their private living quarters for Christmas and holidays when they traveled to the family’s country estate.

Already Susanna’s influence was changing this place, changing the palace—his former bachelor pad—in small, gentle ways. Above all, she was changing his bachelor heart.

He could not lose her. Must not. Yet he felt as if he’d been holding his breath for so long he had to let go and let life deal him the hand it must. He had to tell her the truth. After that, she might very well want to leave.

Could he blame her? She’d given so much already. This one final request could push her to the royal edge.

Slipping out of his tuxedo jacket, Nathaniel gestured toward the tea cart that Rollins, the Parrsons House butler, had set out for them.

“Would you like some tea?”

“A small cup. Thank you.” Susanna sank slowly to the cocoa-colored sofa she’d recently selected as part of the apartment’s remodel. It was one of the only expensive pieces she had authorized, saying that the apartment suited her just fine without spending a lot of money to remake a room that already looked “splendid.”

Her simplicity was just one of her many qualities that endeared her to him. And one more reason why he was so desperate not to lose her. She kept him grounded in everyday reality.

Pouring her tea, Nathaniel added the dollop of cream she’d come to love. “Here you go, love.” He handed over her cup. “Rollins left some biscuits too.”

“I couldn’t eat another thing.” She patted her stomach, settling back against the couch. “Ambassador Riddle went all out, didn’t he? I can’t believe he brought over Michael Baggio.”

“He’s always been a classy chap.”

Tyler Riddle and his wife, Kate, had hosted a fine evening of food and wine, topped off with a very special guest: the American standard singer Michael Baggio, whom Susanna adored.

And he openly adored her back, aiming his musical charms right at her.

But why not? She looked stunning in a midnight blue gown, her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders in wide curls.

Nathaniel tried to give her space throughout the evening, grateful for the distraction of the other guests and his need to circulate. Yet he let her know he was there for her and in no way did he regret asking her into his life.

For his own sake more than hers, he held her hand at Mr. Baggio’s miniconcert. The blasted singer stirred his jealousies.

Halfway through Baggio’s first number, “The Way You Look Tonight,” Nathaniel caught an emotional mist in Susanna’s eyes and he knew. She was homesick.

Well, perhaps that was the gist of it all. She needed to be free to fly if her heart so dictated. He had grasped too tight, suffocating his precious bird. Perhaps he needed to let go and be willing for her to fly away.

And if the bit of news he carried in his chest caused her to doubt her decision to marry him, then so be it.

Nathaniel poured his own tea, snatched up a chocolate biscuit, and settled in the wing chair adjacent to Susanna, noting that his thoughts were far more courageous than his heart. He wasn’t willing to let her go. Not in the least.

He took one bite of his biscuit and tossed it to his plate. He wasn’t hungry. And he had no taste for tea.

“Susanna—”

“Nathaniel, I’ve decided it’s okay if you don’t want to marry me.” Her blue eyes were steady on him. Wide. Without guile.

He set his tea on the table and rose to his feet. “How can you say such a thing? What makes you think I regret proposing? You do realize I went to Parliament with an Order of Council for the right to marry you. It’s the first time a king offered his own bill or amendment in over a hundred years.”

“That doesn’t mean you haven’t changed your mind since then.”