Chapter Twenty-Two

Tom pulled the car up to the front entrance of Leister Palace and Ruth suddenly realized that she'd not been here this often since she had called it home. And it was home, of course, and always would be. But she had a house of her own and before that she'd had her own (rather extravagant) flat to live in while in at university. Now that Dad was sick, however, she'd started coming much more often. Luckily Harry did not think anything of her saying she needed to go to lunch at the palace every Sunday. He did not know how relatively infrequently she'd gone to visit before then.

It wasn't that she was keeping things from Harry. Well, she was, but it wasn't for any secretive purpose. She would tell him eventually. She just didn't want to burden him with her family troubles just yet. Because in telling him that her father was ill, she would also have to tell him that she would be taking on even more royal duties to cover for him. And on a personal level, Harry would surely understand and support her, even if it might mean that she'd have less free time to spend with him. But Harry was also her superior at work. Ruth was already given significant leeway in the amount of time she took off from work in order to do the relatively few appearances that were required of her.

Not to mention, of course, that she and Harry were just so very happy. Other than his rather ill-timed and somewhat disastrous proposal, they'd been doing very well. And Ruth did hope that she might be able to marry him. She just…did not know if she would be allowed. That was the real reason for her rejection. Of course she wanted him to think it through and discuss it with Catherine and Graham, but the permission from the crown could come after she'd said yes so long as Ruth made it clear to Grandfather that Harry was the man she wanted. The only thing was that Harry was not nobility. Harry was knighted and a decorated officer, but he was not even a Baron, and Ruth genuinely did not know if she, in her position, was permitted to marry someone without a title.

Hopefully today she could get something of an answer. She wanted to ask Dad, and if he did not know, the library in the palace had all the books she'd need to find the answer for herself. Really, she could just do the research and be done, but she wanted to discuss it with him. He was sick and she wanted to spend time with him and get his counsel as often as she could. She wanted to tell him that she loved Harry and she wanted to marry him and hopefully they could find a way for it to be so.

Today, unlike most Sundays when she came by, he was in treatment. There was a strict number of days between the administering of the drugs, so sometimes they fell on a weekend. Luckily the treatment itself was not so bad; his worst days were right after, when his body was made weak and had to struggle to make good effect of the cancer-fighting chemicals.

Ruth was greeted by one of the servants and led up to one of the many unused bedrooms that had been converted to the treatment center. The team of doctors and nurses were there, monitoring machines and reading test results and such. It was so odd to see all of the medical equipment in a room with gilded crown moulding and ceiling frescos.

A chair was provided for her to come sit beside her father. He had a needle and tube inserted into his arm through which a bag of liquid drugs dripped into his bloodstream. Other than that, he looked as though he was just sitting in a chair with a book.

"What are you reading?" she asked after kissing his cheek hello.

"Voltaire," he replied, showing her the cover of the very old printing of Candide from their library.

Ruth smiled. "That's a nice distraction, I'd imagine."

"Yes, it does divert the mind when I'm not joined by such lovely company. How are you, dear?"

"I'm very well. And I am hoping I'll still be well after our discussion."

"Oh?" Dad sat up in his chair and put the book on the side table, turning his full attention to her.

Ruth's hands fidgeted nervously in her lap and she chewed on her lips as she tried to think of how to broach the subject. "Mum was a Countess before you married her, right?"

"Yes, that's right," he answered, surely wondering where this was going.

She tried to recall the titles of the other women in the family prior to becoming princesses. "Grandfather married a duchess and Uncle Edmund married a marchioness?"

"I think so. Why are you asking?"

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she had absolutely no reason to be nervous and yet here she was. She knew, however, that she was absolutely terrified that the answer to her question would break her heart. "Is a non-noble allowed to marry anyone in the family?"

Dad's face broke into a very pleased grin. "Are you asking because a non-noble wants to marry you?"

"Yes," she confessed in a quiet mumble.

"Ruth, did Harry ask you to marry him?"

She nodded. "But I said no. Because I didn't want to say yes and then find out he wasn't allowed to marry me. I don't know that anyone in the family has ever married someone without a title." Ruth had no intention of providing any more information about the context of Harry's proposal. Her father did not need to know that much about her private life, nor did anyone else.

Dad considered her words thoughtfully. "You know, I'm really not sure if it's ever been done. That's not to say that it isn't allowed. Just that it hasn't been done. You might want to check the library for that peerage constitutionality book."

"Yes, that's what I was planning on if you didn't know."

"Well, I don't know, so why don't you go get the book and then come back and we can figure it out together?"

And so Ruth did exactly that. She knew that library better than she knew any place in all the world. She knew exactly how it was organized and where to find whatever it was that she needed. The reference books and the history books were along two walls and the works of literature were on the third. The reference books were arranged by subject, so she quickly got her bearings, located the rolling ladder, and climbed up about three feet to reach the book she needed. She was back in the treatment room with her father in about three minutes.

"That was quick," he noted.

She smiled proudly. "Yes, well that's my library."

Dad chuckled merrily, probably remembering the hours and hours and hours Ruth had spent in that room as a child. It certainly was her library. "I've only got one useful hand at the moment, so why don't you find the chapter we need?"

Ruth skimmed the table of contents and noted aloud the titles that sounded relevant. They first looked at the Royal Marriage Act, but that was only the rules regarding who needed the monarch's consent to marry. Ruth knew that much already.

It was annoying, actually, that she knew so little of the laws that governed her family and only her family. But being the daughter of the younger son of the king and thus third in line for the throng—assuming that Uncle Edmond never had children, which was a supremely unlikely event—she had not been tutored with a royal education. She had gone to school with the other children her age. That had been what her parents wanted. Her own father had gone to university, something that his elder brother who was to be the next king had not been able to do. It was Uncle Edmond who had been given the royal tutoring that would prepare him for the role he was destined to fill. And actually, he would be the one who would know right away what the answer to Ruth's question was.

After another two wrong chapters—one on titling for the spouses of various nobility and one on the line of succession—they found what they needed. Ruth read aloud, "The reigning monarch is not permitted to marry outside nobility, nor is his direct successor. Other members of the royal family are free to marry whomever they choose, provided that those who require the consent of the monarch receive such consent prior to a formal engagement. In 1813, Prince Richard, third son of King George II and younger brother of the eventual King James IV, married the daughter of the trainer of his favorite horse."

"There you have it!" Dad cried triumphantly. "Edmund wouldn't be allowed to marry a commoner, but I could and so can you. You'll need your grandfather's permission, but we all know that you love this man, Ruth. We'd love to meet him and get to know him, but there's nothing stopping you from marrying him."

Ruth was so relieved, she could hardly speak. She almost wanted to ask if Harry's divorce might be a hindrance, but surely with his former wife no longer living, no one would mind. But this was better than she could have ever hoped. If—and hopefully when—Harry asked her to marry him again, she there would be no impediment to her saying yes.