Freddie gave a wry smile. “In a sense.” He picked up a poker and prodded the fire, then hung it up and turned in our direction, without actually looking at either of us. “I wanted you to be the first to know—well, actually, the second and third, or rather, the sixth and seventh, if we’re really being specific about order here, eighth if you include me, which I hadn’t been…”
“Fred!” I clapped my hands. “Get to the point!”
“I’ve asked Daphne to marry me and she’s accepted,” Freddie said, in a rat-a-tat rush.
I felt as if I’d taken leave of my own body and was watching this conversation from somewhere twenty feet above the three of us, next to one of the lions carved into the paneled wood ceiling. Nick said nothing. Freddie looked between us both, back and forth, over and over, and said nothing.
“You’re not kidding,” Nick said. It wasn’t a question.
“Deadly serious, Knickers. It’s my turn to marry the heir,” Freddie said, attempting levity, but faltering at the crushed look on Nick’s face.
“Is this because of Father?” Nick demanded.
Freddie looked taken aback. “What? No. Of course not. Why would it be?”
Nick spread his hands out, as if this should be obvious. “Father started all this, back at the state dinner. I’m sure he’s delighted, but you can’t live your life to impress him, Freddie, he doesn’t care about anybody but—”
“It’s not Father,” Freddie interrupted. “That’s absurd.”
“Then what?” Nick asked, standing up, then sitting down again. “Is it me? Is it this?”
He gestured at me, and I saw his lip tremble.
Freddie paled, but his smile didn’t falter. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not. It’s me. I chose this. It’s what I want. Clive got his scoop after all, in the end.” He laughed, but it was hollow.
“Clive,” Nick barked, “is absolutely the wrong reason to do this.”
“Leave it out, Knickers, it was a joke,” Freddie said. He started worrying at his tie, finally managing to loosen it. “This is good news. I thought you’d be happy.”
“Good news? This is madness,” Nick said.
“No,” Freddie said firmly. “It’s sensible, is what it is.”
“Sensible,” Nick repeated. “How romantic.”
“The pressure of royal life is never going to be too much for Daphne,” Freddie continued. “My family is never going to be too complicated or too overwhelming or too confusing for her. This”—and here, he mimicked Nick’s gesture at my body—“will never confuse her. It’s easy. It’s so easy.”
“King of the Netherlands,” Nick said softly, shaking his head.
“King consort,” Freddie corrected him. “Prince consort? I’m not sure how the Netherlands works.”
“Which is why this is an absolutely ridiculous notion,” Nick said. “Of all the women to marry in haste, a crown princess seems like the recipe for the biggest possible disaster.” He rose again now, and started to pace.
“It’s hardly haste. We know each other very well, and occasionally we’ve…” Freddie flushed. “You know. It’s not out of nowhere. I’ve thought it through. I’ve done nothing but think about this for ages.”
“You can’t have done, or else you’d have seen reason,” Nick said. “Don’t do this. You don’t need to do this.”
“It’s done,” Freddie said quietly. “Hax gave me his blessing last night.” He smiled joylessly. “Daphne was person number three to find out. Lax had been eavesdropping in the next room. You should’ve heard her shriek.”
Nick barely seemed to hear. “You swore we wouldn’t lose you,” he said. “Is that not as important to you?”
“It’s vital to me.” Freddie’s voice was strained.
“But you’ve chosen the path most likely to make that happen, and for what? Someone you don’t even love?” Nick asked. “You’ll be gone. You can’t live here and live there. It’ll have to be there.”
“I realize that.”
Nick looked at me, then back at his brother. “Did you know you were going to do this when you agreed to help us? Is it why you agreed?” He looked down at the floor for a moment. “I’m so sorry, Freddie. I know what you want me to say but I just can’t do it.”
Flustered, he turned on his heel and left. Freddie ran his hands over his face, then flopped into the tapestry-covered wing chair by the fire. “That went brilliantly. How about removing my wisdom teeth without anesthesia next?” He frowned at me. “You could’ve backed me up there, you know.”
“I was not about to butt into that,” I said.
“Are you going to butt in now?” he asked huffily.
“Hell yeah,” I said. “Come on, you must have expected this, or you wouldn’t