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Deep down, he knew going ahead tonight with Husband Candidate Number 3 was a lousy idea. It was barely three weeks since Uncle Brock had broken Cyn’s heart, and Mary had grave doubts about the man Van had dug up.
“It is not a mistake.”
He sounded like a five-year-old. All he needed to complete the regression was to stick out his lower lip.
She’d never heard Van sound petulant before. Stubborn, yes. Infuriating, oh yes. Domineering, aggressive — well, yeah, although he usually saved such garbage for times when he was in a three-piece business suit and heading toward a long day in the boardroom. But he was desperate to fix Cyn’s heartache. He was sure a new man would do it. Van didn’t want to admit any doubts about his candidate.
“Cyn isn’t ready for another man,” Mary said.“Yes, she is.”
Great. Another scintillating conversation. No she isn’t. Yes she is. No she isn’t. Anybody care to stamp his or her foot too?
“Even if she were ready, I’m nervous about this guy.”
“I’m not. He’s a prince.”
“Being a prince from some little country no one ever heard of doesn’t make him a prince among men, and he sets my antennae a-quiver.”
Mary had checked the prince out, of course, with contacts from her gossip column days and new ones she was developing as a freelancer of business articles.MostwereasbowledoverbyHisRoyalHighness as Van was, and as Cyn pretended to be. Only a few people seemed a little doubtful, and they couldn’t cite specifics any more than Mary could. Someone must know something about the man.
“Van, you haven’t given me enough time to check this guy out thoroughly.”
“Even I can tell he’s good-looking and could sweet-talkahotdogoutofthebun.Whatmorecould a woman want? But he’s also rich, and — ”
“I’d rather dig up some proof he really is all the things he says he is,” Mary said.
“He’s staying at the Royal Astoria — ”
“That doesn’t prove anything. Remember that guy nailed for a Ponzi investment scheme? He stayed at the Royal Astoria. All his marks were impressed. He charmedthemintopayingforcaviarandchampagne in the revolving restaurant up top while he gave them the spiel that took them to the cleaners.”
Van grunted. Funny how often men grunted when they didn’t want to admit you’d made a good point. Van was grunting a lot lately.
“Van, if this prince of a fellow really is who he says he is, he’ll go home one of these days to wherever the family castle sits and broods over the realm. Do you really want Cyn to live half a world away from us?”
Mary hated the thought. Cyn had become a precious friend. Sooner or later, Van would hate the distance too. For such a smart and clear-sighted businessman, though, he could be as blind as the see-no-evil monkey.
“One less person on my doorstep to worry about,” hemuttered.“MaybeIcoulddosomerealsculpture.”
Mary finally managed to finish Van’s bow tie. She patted it.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to make Brock jealous.”
Van looked innocent.
Or should she say too innocent?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Whodunnit?
V
AN GAVE THE PARTYpatio a sour glance and slipped a finger between his neck and his bow-tied collar.Howcouldamanbreathewithoneofthesethings strangling him? He opened his mouth to complain to Mary,butsnappeditshutjustintime.She’dprobably make him go waste his time in some office where the doctor would appear three hours late to confirm, no, Van wasn’t coming down with pneumonia or anything else besides a bow tie making it hard for a man to breathe.
Van’s jitters remained, so he looked for something elsetocomplainabout.Thewholereasonfortheparty would do. “This is getting tiresome,” he grumbled. “Been here, done that.”
“Well, yeah, three times now,” Mary said. “This whole husband idea was yours in the first place, and you just had to try it for the third time.”
She was cranky these days. His mood lightened, though, as soon as he thought about getting her into a dark corner for a little lip-locking later on. After things settled down. After he got a look at how this duke or prince, or whatever he was, was getting on with Aunt Cynthia.
