Too Damn Rich by Judith Gould Page B

and to which Prince Karl-Heinz
was required to adhere, and to which, therefore, he owed his
current predicament.
    At the heart of it was primogeniture, not so
unusual in itself, since many of the noble houses of Europe still
practice the ancient tradition of passing titles and inheritances
down through their eldest sons. And as Karl-Heinz was his ailing
father's only male offspring, primogeniture should normally have
guaranteed his inheritance, and precluded his sister, Princess
Sofia, from the running.
    However, that was where the distinctive von
und zu Engelwiesen complication arose, a problem little appreciated
by Karl-Heinz. Thanks to Prince Eustace, the family's particular
law of primogeniture clearly spelled out that no less than two
prerequisites had to be fulfilled before the eldest son could
attain his rightful inheritance.
    The first, a precaution to ensure a pure
bloodline, was that Karl- Heinz must marry a female who was also a
descendant of the Holy Roman Emperors—an obstacle which winnowed
the playing field down to a tiny handful of eligible women.
    The second was that his wife had to give
birth to a male heir before the death of Karl-Heinz's own father,
the old prince.
    If both these criteria could not be met, the
inheritance would then automatically pass on to the eldest son of
the next closest relative. As luck would have it, Karl-Heinz's
sister, Sofia, and her husband, Count Erwein, had managed to
produce a virtual army of strapping and exceedingly handsome if
featherbrained princelings.
     
    Meanwhile, time was running out for
Karl-Heinz. His father, the old prince, was in such deteriorating
health that it was doubtful whether he would even live to see his
next birthday ...
    Now, with the noonday sun streaming through
the windows, Karl-Heinz considered his options, or rather the lack
thereof. It occurred to him that if he wanted to secure his
rightful inheritance, forty carefree years of bachelorhood had
better come to a screeching halt. He would have to dig up an
appropriate, blue-blooded wife fast, and hope to God she was a
childbearer who could produce a son in record time.
    The specter of Leopold, Princess Sofia's
lamentably sulky eldest son inheriting the estate which, by all
rights should be Karl-Heinz's, loomed ominously in his mind. It
didn't take much imagination to see Leopold, a hopelessly
provincial spendthrift with harebrained schemes and no business
sense whatsoever, run through the entire fortune and undo the work
of seven centuries in a single generation. Karl-Heinz had seen it
happen to other great and powerful families, and had no desire to
see it occur to his.
    He felt every one of his forty years weigh
heavily today, and sighed gloomily. His thoughts of Sofia and
Leopold had definitely taken the shine off his day; they made his
entire life's work seem pointless.
    Yes, he mused, if I know what's good for
me—and I do!—my playboy days are over. Definitely over ...
    And with that depressing thought, he could
only wonder at his own stupidity in waiting so long ... perhaps too
long ... to secure his birthright.
    He was still wondering about it during lunch,
oblivious to Cesar, his Spanish majordomo who, hovering discreetly,
sniffily orchestrated the perfect serving of everything from the
lobster salad to the freshly ground, scalding hot coffee.
    But the lobster went uneaten; the coffee was
half drunk.
    His Serene Highness, Prince Karl-Heinz von
und zu Engelwiesen had lost his appetite. How, how on God's earth,
he asked himself, could he of all people have been so cretinously
stupid, so unforgivably asinine as to wait until today, his
fortieth birthday, to see the light? Truly, such imbecility is
unworthy of me! he thought with the bitter recriminations of
someone who has won the lottery, but has forgotten to cash in the
ticket.
    He needed to make up for lost time—and lose
no time doing it.
    Yes, Karl-Heinz thought, uneasy rests the
head, even if it wears no crown