“Thank you, sir.” She curtsied, then turned to extend the courtesy to Bennett. “Good afternoon, Your Highness.”

“Bonjour, Lady Hannah.” Bennett waited for the door to close behind her before dropping onto the arm of his chair. “Well, she should bore Eve to tears within a week.” Ignoring the tea, he took a handful of the small iced cookies. “What could Eve have been thinking of?”

“Eve became very fond of Hannah during her two weeks in England.” Armand walked to a scrolled cabinet and, to Bennett’s relief, took out a decanter. “Hannah is a well-bred young woman of excellent family. Her father is a highly respected member of the British Parliament.” The brandy was deep and rich. Armand poured it sparingly.

“That’s all well and good, but—” Bennett stopped abruptly as he reached for the snifter. “Oh good God, Father, you’re not thinking of trying for a match here? She’s hardly my type.”

Armand’s firm mouth softened with a smile. “I think I know that well enough. I can assure you Lady Hannah was not brought here to tempt you.”

“She could hardly do that in any case.” Bennett swirled the brandy, then sipped. “Yeats?”

“There are some who believe literature extends beyond equestrian handbooks.” Armand drew out a cigarette. There was a knot of tension at the base of his neck. He forced it to concentrate there rather than allowing it to spread.

“I prefer the useful rather than poetry about unrequited love or the beauty of a raindrop.” When that made him feel small and ungracious, Bennett relented. “But in any case, I’ll do whatever I can to make Eve’s new friend welcome.”

“I never doubted it.”

His conscience soothed, Bennett moved on to more important matters. “The Arabian mare should foal by Christmas. I’m betting it’s a colt. Dracula will breed strong sons. I have three horses that should be ready to show in the spring, and another I think should be taken to the Olympic trials. I’d like to arrange that within the next few weeks so that the riders will have more time to work with the horse.”

Armand gave an absent nod and continued to swirl his brandy. Bennett felt the familiar push of impatience rising and fought it down. He was well aware that the stables weren’t high on his father’s list of priorities. How could they be with internal affairs, foreign affairs, and the very tricky politics within the Council of the Crown?

Yet, didn’t there have to be something more? The horses not only gave pleasure, but added a certain prestige when the Royal House of Cordina possessed one of the finest stables in Europe. For himself, it was what he considered his only true contribution to his family and country.