Page 11 of A Royal Mistake
Assuming he’s not the sort to hold a grudge.
“I’m planning to start a new philanthropic organization, and given the success of von der Recke International, I’d hoped you would act as my mentor while you’re staying at the palace.”
Henry’s perpetual smile faded, and he pressed his lips into a flat line as he studied her, the weight of his intense gaze pinning her to the chair.
Bugger. He was going to say no. Pippa could feel it in her bones. Or maybe that was just her heart slamming against her ribcage? She could think of a thousand reasons for him to say no—he was too busy, she’d been rude, and the list went on—but she couldn’t come up with a single good reason for him to say yes.
No.She wouldn’t accept no for an answer. She’d—
“Starting a new foundation is a lot of work. Are you sure you have the time, what with the whole courtship thing?” he said, waving his hand in a circular motion.
The gesture was completely dismissive. Clearly, he didn’t take the process seriously at all, but that was fine, because neither did she. So at least they had some common ground.
She could work with that.
“I told you before, I’m not bloody interested in being courted. And I’m sure as hell not interested in getting married.” She grinned with smug satisfaction. Her use of coarse language would scandalize Miss Cartwright—in front of an eligible bachelor, no less—but damn if it didn’t feel good to speak her mind without worrying about proper etiquette or repercussions. “What I am interested in is creating positive change in the world, something I thought you, of all people, would understand,” Pippa challenged, rising to her feet.
She had one more card to play, but it was too soon to tip her hand. Better to wait until she had the advantage. “It seems I’ve made a mistake in coming here. I’ll see myself out.”
* * *
Pippa’s wordslanded like a blow. Henry knew firsthand the frustration of being reduced to nothing more than a title. And yet, he’d done it to her without a second thought, presuming to know her based on a single encounter.
A poor one at that.
Verdammt.
It was official. He was an Arsch.
She’d come to him with an apology and a request for help, and he’d thrown her circus of a courtship in her face, when what he should’ve done was try to understand.
“Please stay.” He gestured to the chair she’d just vacated. With any luck, he could still salvage the situation. He wasn’t sure why he cared so damn much, but he didn’t want Pippa to leave thinking he was a complete prick. “I do understand. I understand it takes more than a fleeting interest to change the world. It takes passion, determination, courage, and commitment.”
Pippa stood before him in a bright blue sundress that revealed miles of sun-kissed skin and the longest fucking legs he’d ever seen. He might not be on the palace’s official list of suitors, but his cock hadn’t gotten the message.
She arched a thin brow and planted a hand on her hip, making no move to sit. “And you’ve already determined I don’t possess any of those qualities?”
Oh, he was confident she had passion in spades, but this probably wasn’t the most opportune time to point it out, so he answered the question with one of his own.
“If you’re not interested in marriage, why all the suitors?” Why the fuck had he asked about the suitors, when he should’ve been asking about her plans for the foundation? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “You know what? Forget I asked. That’s none of my business. Why don’t you tell me about the foundation?”
“For now, I’m calling it Stanley International.” She sank into the Louis XV chair, her dark eyes shining just a little brighter as she crossed those mile-long legs. “I’d like to work with women and girls in developing countries to provide access to clean water, sanitation, education, and entrepreneurship. Too often women get left behind when it comes to creating opportunities, strictly because of their gender, and I want to help level the playing field.”
It was a noble mission, and there was no shortage of need for an organization that delivered more resources to women and girls living in poverty. She’d done her homework. He’d give her that much, but he knew from experience that the challenge—and the solution—were far more complex than simply providing resources and access. Socioeconomic and cultural factors would have significant bearing, and they weren’t easy threads to unravel.
Hell, they could be maddening.
Which was why he needed to be sure she was truly committed.
“I won’t lie to you. What you’re proposing, it’s a lot of work. There are legal issues, funding, personnel, international relations, logistics, safety. The list is endless,” he said, measuring his words carefully. He didn’t want to scare her, but she needed to know what she was up against. If she did this, it was going to be a hell of a lot more complicated than planning a royal ball. “It took me years to sort it all out.”
“Exactly.” She leaned forward and a lock of honey blonde hair spilled over her shoulder like a ray of fucking sunshine. “I know you’re only in Valeria for a few weeks, and I realize you can’t teach me everything you know in such a short amount of time, but I’d appreciate any guidance you can offer. I’m a quick study and I’ll work around your schedule.”
“Why Stanley International?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Not that he didn’t want to help—she was right, with proper counsel, she could avoid making the same mistakes he’d made—but his schedule was full. And he needed to focus on negotiating a partnership with the Royal Foundation. That was why he’d come to Valeria. “Why not align yourself with the RFV?”
“Because the archaic laws of my beautiful country say I can’t take part in royal affairs until I’m married.” Pippa pursed her full lips as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Thus, the courting.”
Scheisse. And he’d thought Liechtenstein’s rules of succession, which forbid a woman from inheriting the throne, were outdated. Still, if she wanted council, he’d be remiss not to point out the obvious.