The Charlotte Series: Book 2: The Rebel's Prize

Nineteen-Part 2

Eric watched her go and rocked on his heels as his grin grew ear to ear. Finish that thought, hmm. He sighed and tugged off his cravat tossing it to the chair Izzy vacated. Next his waistcoat and then he removed his collar and loosed the top few buttons. Crossing to the corner he poured himself a glass of wine and took a seat at the writing table.

...really was a fairytale mother. I wish you could have seen him. He was so handsome standing there in his fancy suit and sword. Mother, I wish I could tell you about the ceremony itself, but honestly, when his eyes met mine and he smiled at me...

Eric resisted the urge to read anymore as he lifted Izzy's letter and set it aside and pulled over a fresh sheet. Dipping the quill he smiled as he scratched the words:

Hello Papa

---

"Lady Bailey, Your Highness."

The prince stood and came forward to take her hand. Izzy dipped her knees slightly for he didn't give her time for a proper curtsy before he was leading her toward a large comfortable chair. As she straightened her skirts, he crossed to a small table and picked up a crystal glass.

"Can I pour you a bit of wine? It's from the Imperial vineyards and it's quite good."

"Thank you, Your Highness." She didn't really want the wine, but she couldn't say no to the Imperial prince either.

As he handed over the wine he offered her a flashy grin and leaned his hip against his desk and crossed his ankles. Raising his glass he offered a toast.

"To family."

"To family." She answered and raised her glass before taking a sip.

It really was quite delicious, but so were Eric's kisses...and he was waiting...

"You asked to see me, Your Highness?" she prompted.

"Indeed, Lady Bailey. I have just received a missive from Comte Jossart and I thought you should like to read it at once." He smiled and reached around him to scoop a letter from the desk.

He leaned forward and extended the letter. Izzy smiled and felt her stomach flip as she took it from him. Turning it around she began to read.

"So you are fluent in French?" The prince asked in French as Izzy read.

Without looking up or missing a beat, Izzy answered him in French.

"Yes, Your Highness. It would seem that I may be French. Or perhaps it is that my mother was French."

"Your accent is beautiful. Spoken like a native of our fair land. It is not the sort of French one learns from a governess."

"Thank you, Your Highness." She continued in French as she looked up from the letter. "But I also speak Hindi, Urdu, English, and Italian. I am told I speak them all very well."

"You were well travelled as a child?"

"I could not say, Your Highness. Although I do not believe I ever left India before I was sent to England last year."

"That would suggest at least one foreign parent. I'm going to go with the mother theory."

"How so?"

"Well, back to your story. You lost your memory around the time of the rebellion in India. And from that point until today a very influential Prince has been obsessed with you. I would say that your Father was probably wealthy and most likely an influential man. Your mother would be the one that was foreign."

"I am more fluent with French although I speak Italian very well."

"French mother, English father. Not an uncommon thing. As for the two Indian dialects, they are the most widely spoken in India, as far as the actual area goes. If your father was a diplomat of sorts, you would have travelled quite a bit and if you were naturally good with languages, you could have picked it up."