Page 12 of A Royal Mistake
“At the risk of sounding like a sexist Arsch, it might be easier to marry and support the RFV.”
“I’m not looking for the easy path. I’m looking for the right one.” Pippa squared her shoulders and met his eye. Her brows were pulled low and her smile was nowhere to be seen, but determination burned in her eyes. “I’ve spent most of my life following arbitrary rules written by long dead men, and I will not let some man shove me back in the same box I’ve worked so hard to break out of.”
She sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling heavily.
“During my gap year, I travelled abroad with von der Recke International. I volunteered in Nicaragua and Tanzania.” He’d known as much—he’d approved Pippa’s participation himself—but their paths had never crossed as she’d worked on existing programs and he’d been forging new ones. “The experience made me realize just how sheltered and naïve I was because of my upbringing. I signed up to help, but I quickly realized I lacked even the most basic skills.” She offered him a wry smile. “It was humbling, to say the least.”
Christ. The admission—the naked vulnerability—pierced him like an arrow. Few people could admit such a shortcoming, and he respected the hell out of her for putting it out there.
“You may have heard that my gap year was longer than most. Despite what the populars would have you believe, it wasn’t because I was shirking my duties at court or partying my way around the globe,” she continued with a self-deprecating laugh. “It was because I was finally discovering myself and my purpose.”
He knew the feeling. He also knew that if she was serious, there’d be no deterring her.
“Alright, so the RFV isn’t an option. I can think of any number of charities that would be thrilled to announce a partnership with The Princess Royal. Your patronage alone would bring donations pouring in.”
Pippa frowned. “Like I said, I will not let Their Majesties or anyone else dictate my life. I’m tired of being told how to think, and what to wear, and whether I can be alone with a man.” His gaze shot to the bodyguard who stood just inside the door. Pippa’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly rushed on. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Oh, but he did. After all, how many times had his own parents tried to lure him back to court with promises of wealth and privilege? More times than he could count.
And each time, he’d refused.
No way was he going to sacrifice his freedom or his privacy. He’d seen the way his brothers’ lives were scrutinized in the press, the way their relationships were splashed across the tabloids like a bloody soap opera. He didn’t want that for himself or the people in his life.
Not that he had anyone special in his life.
Hell, he hadn’t had a serious relationship in nearly three years.
His lifestyle simply wasn’t suited to long-term commitment. It required too much travel to put down roots, and while he could technically run the foundation from Liechtenstein, it wasn’t his style. He preferred to be hands on, boots on the ground. He wanted his volunteers to see him and to ensure the work abroad was being executed with integrity and care.
Pippa cleared her throat, pulling him out of his own damn head. “I realize you have a busy schedule, and I don’t expect you to advise me out of the goodness of your heart.”
He straightened. She had his full attention now. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“You came to Valeria to discuss a partnership with the Royal Foundation, correct?”
“Yes.” It was hardly a secret, but what was she getting at?
“My brother, Prince William, is the head of the RFV. He’s a fierce negotiator, and he’s not exactly known for being softhearted. Which, I suppose, is a blessing, since the RFV receives hundreds of partnership requests each year.” She sighed. “It can’t be easy choosing which to accept and which to deny.”
Of that, he had no doubt. He faced the same challenge at VDRI. It gutted him every time he had to send an unfavorable response, but resources were limited.
Now more than ever.
Four months ago, he’d discovered VDRI’s Chief Financial Officer was embezzling funds. Funds Henry had committed to expansion in Uganda and Papua New Guinea. He’d managed to keep the theft quiet—for now—but if he didn’t secure a partnership with the Royal Foundation, he’d be forced to cancel the expansion.
The media would flay him. And nothing dried up donations like bad press. His entire life’s work would be in jeopardy. Even worse, he’d have to face the people he’d failed and see the hurt and disappointment in their eyes when they learned aid would not be forthcoming.
Just the thought of it brought bile to the back of his throat.
“Of course,” Pippa continued casually, “if you knew what levers to pull, convincing Liam to partner with VDRI would be child’s play.”
Not bloody likely.
He studied the princess. She’d just admitted Valerian law prevented her from interfering in royal affairs, so how could she possibly guarantee a partnership with the crown?
“I’m listening.”
“The deal is simple.” She arched a brow, all business now. “If you agree to act as my mentor for the duration of your stay in Valeria, I’ll make sure Liam agrees to partner with VDRI.”