Their father shot him a warning look, which he ignored.
“The papers have said far worse things about everyone at this table. Who gives a fuck what the tabloids write? We all know it’s bloody rubbish.” Xander shrugged. “Our Bunny’s as pure as the driven snow.”
Her cheeks heated. She wanted to argue, but technically, he wasn’t wrong. And her virtue was so not the point here.
“My work with Henry is strictly business,” she argued, ignoring the little voice that said there was nothing professional about the way Henry’s touch lit her panties on fire. She lifted her chin and turned to her father. Of her parents, he was the most likely to consider a rational argument. “He’s the founder of von der Recke International and he’s agreed to mentor me on non-profit startups while he’s in Valeria.”
“Why on earth do you need a mentor?” the queen demanded. “Once you marry, you can work for the Royal Foundation.”
Pippa’s temper flared. She grabbed a piece of bacon and took a vicious bite before she said something she’d regret later. If she wanted to come out on top, she needed to keep her cool. Otherwise, her parents would have her engaged by fall and married by spring. She chewed slowly, collecting her thoughts, and swallowed.
“IfI choose to marry. Either way, I’m going to get half of my trust—that was the deal—and I’m committed to starting my own charity. There’s no reason I can’t start doing the research now to prepare.”
“This is ridiculous,” the queen said, throwing her hands up and appealing to her husband. “She’s not taking the courtship seriously.”
“I’m quite serious. I’ve already determined two of the suitors are a terrible match.” Pippa squared her shoulders. “I sent them home last night.”
The queen paled. “You did what? Who?”
Didn’t see that coming, did you, Mother?
Pride surged through her veins. She considered not answering. Her mother deserved to sweat it out a bit, wondering if the Prince of Asses had made the cut, but she was growing tired of this conversation.
Who knew court schemes were so exhausting?
Pippa racked her brain. Who had she released? She pictured their faces, but the names hovered just out of her reach. Which would put a real dent in her credibility.Think. One was a knight—Sir-Bores-a-lot—the other an aristocrat who’d spent half their conversation trying to impress her with an endless list of titles. “Philip Sheffield and Sir Nicolas.”
“This is outrageous.” The queen pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples. “I cannot believe I even have to say this, but sending invited guests home mid-summer sets a terrible precedent. How will it reflect upon the crown?”
She sighed. Of course, her mother was more concerned with appearances than with her own daughter’s well-being.
Typical.
“You think it would’ve been kinder to let them remain for the rest of the summer, wasting their time?” she asked, stabbing a piece of sausage with her fork and popping it in her mouth. No way was she going to let her mother spoil her appetite.
“I think you should’ve—”
The king raised his hand, and the queen fell silent, as if she’d been muted. Her jaw snapped shut.
“Your mother is right. This is highly unusual,” the king said. “But I must admit, it’ll be easier for you to find the right match if you can spend more time with each suitor.”
Bugger. She hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d have to step up her game.
The queen sighed, resigned to the fact that there was no turning back.
“My secretary is sending out invitations for a royal ball to formally announce your society debut. Please see you don’t run off any of our guests before the ball. It would be rather tacky to rescind the invitations.”
She nearly choked on her sausage. Seriously? A debutante ball? This had to be a freaking joke.
Pippa swallowed, the sausage a slimy lump going down. “Don’t you think I’m a little old for a society debut?”
Her mother’s victory smile was answer enough. “Nonsense. It’ll be a lovely event and it’ll be a great press opportunity. You wanted to share your courtship with the people, did you not?”
Damn it. She had said that, hadn’t she?
Outmaneuvered again.
The rest of the breakfast passed in a blur, and before she knew it, Their Majesties were excusing themselves for some meeting or another, Liam and Xander close on their heels. As soon as they were out of sight, Lena and Evie perked up, shoving their breakfast plates away.
