Harlequin Romance Bundle: Crowns and Cowboys
Page 45
It made her feel alone. Isolated.
Marianne’s fingers strayed once more to the necklace she was wearing. This mattered. She couldn’t pretend it didn’t. Being with Seb mattered. Being ‘suitable’ mattered.
And this was the first step. Fail here and she would be reduced to nothing more than ‘Marianne Chambers, former girlfriend of the Prince of Andovaria’.
Her chin came up and her eyes sparkled against the challenge. She could do this. Light strains of something classical wafted towards her. She didn’t know what, but it was pleasant and…soothing.
Alois von Dietrich had worked some kind of special magic because their group of three avoided the crush of people moving inexorably towards the ballroom. They were ushered in and through and had nothing left to do but stand in rapt admiration.
The already spectacular room had been transformed into a white bower. There were flowers absolutely everywhere. Large, glossy lilies and twisting rose garlands led the eye towards the wall of open French doors and on into the rose garden beyond.
‘Oh, my,’ Eliana said in a soft whisper at Marianne’s elbow.
Silently, Marianne echoed the sentiment. She felt her fragile confidence falter once again. This was so…big. Seb’s life was so big.
All around her was the cream of European society. The cost of the dresses the women were wearing alone would probably cancel out Third World debt…and if you factored in their jewels…
Marianne could hear her heart beating, feel the thud as it slammed against her chest cavity. She didn’t want to fail. She wanted him to love her.
‘Their Serene Highnesses Prince Sebastian of Andovaria, the Dowager Princess Arabella…’
Marianne felt as though she’d entered that zone where everything became blurry except one central image. And for her, Seb was that image.
She’d thought she had reached a point where she understood what it meant to be royalty—but this moved her understanding up one notch more. Everyone was looking at him.
Everyone. The eyes of every man and woman, in a room holding more than a thousand people, were on him.
And Seb looked completely unconscious of it. He was used to it…because it was his birthright. Marianne hung back and watched as he led his mother towards the centre of the room. And, like some bizarre version of a Mexican wave, people bowed their heads as they moved through.
Then the entire royal party splintered and they worked the room with practised ease. It was formidable to see. At one point Princess Isabelle stood close enough to be heard and Marianne was amazed she could switch between languages without the slightest hesitation.
‘Shouldn’t you go and speak to him?’ Eliana asked quietly.
Marianne shook her head. ‘He’s working.’
And that was true. It was a new perspective on what these royal occasions were about. With sudden clarity she recognised how valuable it was that so many of the world’s most influential people could be gathered in one place at the same time.
‘Dr Chambers?’ Alois von Deitrich said quietly.
She turned at his voice.
‘His Serene Highness Prince Sebastian has asked if you would come this way.’
Marianne felt her heart bounce up into her throat. ‘H-has he? Yes. Yes, of course.’
Seb’s private secretary seemed to have the ability to cut an effortless swathe through the massed people. Marianne simply tucked in behind him. Her stomach was churning and adrenaline was coursing through her veins.
‘Dr Chambers, sir,’ Alois said as they drew close enough to be heard.
Marianne managed a small curtsey and looked up into eyes that were wickedly laughing.
Seb leant forward and lightly kissed her cheek, taking the opportunity to whisper, ‘I thought we’d agreed you weren’t going to do that.’
‘It goes against the grain, but I’m behaving well.’
His mouth pulled into a smile. ‘I’ll treasure the moment.’ His hand reached out to take hold of hers. ‘Any moment there will be dancing…and I need a partner.’
Marianne looked over her shoulder, worried by who might be watching. ‘Should you be holding my hand?’
‘Difficult for us to dance together if we don’t.’ Seb led her towards the centre of the room and then moved to hold her. One hand was pressed in the small of her back and the other kept hold of her hand.
She loved the feel of him. Marianne breathed in and filled her lungs with the smell of his tangy aftershave. ‘There’s no music.’
‘Give them a moment.’ And then, as though that had been their cue, the musicians started to play.
Marianne kept looking straight up into Seb’s eyes, her feet moving effortlessly. ‘What would you have done if I didn’t know how to dance?’
‘I knew you could,’ Seb replied, his eyes alight with mischief.
‘How?’
‘I was sure that the Under-sixteen Eastern Counties Ballroom Champion would be able to manage a waltz.’
Marianne looked down to a point mid-chest, then back up at his eyes. ‘Did I tell you that?’
‘Yes.’ He spun her round. ‘I suddenly remembered it this evening when I was trying to work out how I could get to hold you.’
Her hand trembled. It was what she wanted to hear him say…but she was so confused. For him to dance with her like this was tantamount to making a public announcement. Surely that wasn’t what they’d agreed?
‘You look beautiful, by the way.’
Marianne’s confused eyes flew up to his confidently smiling ones. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Dancing with you.’
‘But why?’
Seb’s fingers splayed out against the silk of her dress and she could feel the warmth of his hand on her skin. It was hard to remember how many hundreds of eyes were watching her at this moment.
‘Because I want to.’
‘What happened to “dating” me privately? I thought we were going to keep our…friendship a secret while we made sure it was right for both of us.’
‘Yes, we were.’
‘So, what changed?’ Marianne asked.
Seb’s hand shifted position on her lower back and she spun round, a mass of tingling sensation. Right now, right here, she didn’t care who was watching. Didn’t care who thought what. She just wanted to be with him, have him hold her.
He moved in closer and spoke quietly. ‘Meet me outside in twenty minutes. By the third window on the left.’
Marianne nodded. She would meet him anywhere. Do anything. Her eyes scanned the side of the ballroom so she was sure where he meant.
‘If I hand you over to Alois he’ll take you to find your friends.’ Then, as the waltz drew to a close, Seb stepped back and smiled.
She knew exactly what that smile meant. It meant ‘twenty minutes’. Her stomach was a nervous knot of anticipation—but the fear had gone. There was a new expression in his eyes—one that she recognised.
A tremulous smile played across her mouth. She’d seen it before. In France. It was that expression that had made her fall in love with him.
As Alois led her back through the clusters of people earnestly discussing issues large and small, it became clear that her status had changed. One very public dance with Prince Sebastian and she’d suddenly become interesting.
People wanted to know who she was, what her name was, how she’d met the prince…Alois began by hovering solicitously, but quickly relaxed as Marianne discovered she was quite adept at saying little while still being charming.
She even managed to switch between French, German and English with reasonable alacrity, although she didn’t pretend to rival Princess Isabelle’s skill. Nevertheless, Alois was impressed.
‘Your knowledge of European languages is unusual for an Englishwoman,’ he remarked.
Marianne smiled as she heard the grudging respect in his voice. ‘It’s not an inability to learn that keeps most of us only speaking English, it’s merely that the rest of Europe seems to speak English so w
ell it’s difficult to see the need.’
Eliana looked up as Marianne approached. She’d found a seat and was sipping champagne.
‘Dr Chambers,’ Alois said in farewell, with a curious kind of bow.
‘Thank you for returning me to Eliana. I wouldn’t have found her without you.’ Then as he turned away, Marianne pointed to the seat next to her. ‘Is this taken?’
‘Peter’s only just vacated it,’ Eliana replied, looking curiously over the top of her champagne flute.
Marianne gingerly lowered herself down and perched on the edge.
The creases at the edges of Eliana’s soft blue eyes deepened. ‘So you can sit in that dress,’ she remarked.
‘Just.’
‘Nice dance.’
Marianne looked up and felt an overwhelming desire to laugh. She was happy. Really, genuinely happy. ‘What time is it?’
Eliana held out her wrist.
‘Oh, goodness,’ Marianne said, standing up. ‘I’ve got to go again.’
Her friend’s eyes twinkled. ‘I see.’
Marianne slid as unobtrusively as possible through the nearest double doors. The light was beginning to fade and the huge torches that had been lit along the length of the terrace had come into their own.
Hundreds of people, it seemed, had decided to take the opportunity to wander in the rose garden. At first Marianne felt self-conscious, as though they would all be watching her, but she seemed to have regained her anonymity.
It took a moment to realise why—they hadn’t seen her dance with Prince Sebastian. She walked along the length of the terrace, trying to pinpoint which set of double doors would have been level with where they’d been dancing.
Her concentration was entirely on the ballroom inside when a hand reached out to catch hold of her arm. She looked round. ‘Seb.’
‘Sssh.’ His eyes gleamed in the dusky light and Marianne’s stomach somersaulted. He pulled her in close and kissed her. Then, ‘Come with me.’
He led her round the side of the terrace and towards a high hedge.
‘What’s this?’
‘A maze.’
The heels on Marianne’s shoes sank slightly into the mud. ‘I’ll ruin my shoes.’
‘I’ll buy you some more,’ he said, refusing to let go of her hand.
Marianne felt an overwhelming need to laugh. ‘They’re not mine.’
‘Then stop worrying,’ Seb said as they disappeared inside the privacy of the maze’s high yew hedge. He stopped and pulled her towards him. ‘I need to kiss you properly.’
She felt his eyes on her lips before his mouth closed the small distance between them. Then his hands moved up to cradle her face.
Marianne’s hands pulled him in closer, loving the feel of the full length of his body against her. She know that he needed to kiss her, just about as much as she needed to be kissed.
As he pulled away she could feel his smile against her mouth. He was happy.
Seb’s hand slid down the length of her bare arm and his fingers locked with hers. ‘Come with me.’
‘You do know your way through this thing, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘It’ll not be good if we have to be rescued.’
Seb laughed.
It was an incredible sound. She hadn’t seen him this relaxed since…France.
Hidden at the heart of the maze was a covered seating area. The high hedge walls made it dark and private. Marianne moved a little closer. ‘Why are we here?’
Seb pulled her towards the bench. ‘So I can kiss you without anyone watching us. Any objections?’
She pretended to consider. ‘Not really.’
His teeth gleamed in the darkness and she could see the glimmer of his sexy eyes. ‘I love you.’
Marianne briefly shut her eyes against the emotion of that. He’d told her he loved her before. But this time he was doing it as a man, sure of what he wanted.
And he wasn’t saying he thought he might be in love with her. Or that he was falling in love with her. He was saying it was a done deal. He loved her. Loved.
Then he moved to kiss her. It seemed as though he was pouring all of himself into it. She could taste champagne and something that was entirely Seb.
She loved him, too.
Seb pulled back and his finger traced her collar-bone and then he picked up the locket. ‘I remember this.’
Her eyes shimmered and Seb moved in to kiss her again. He didn’t want her to cry. He didn’t want her to remember the sad times. The ten years they’d wasted. He’d wasted.
If he could kiss her long enough he was sure he could erase all those memories. He was going to spend the rest of his life loving her. Making her happy.
Her hands rested on his chest and he felt her tense and hold him away. ‘Seb, what’s changed? This wasn’t what you said you wanted.’
No, it wasn’t. Seb ran a hand through his hair and brought his breathing back under control. His fingers linked with hers and he pulled her towards the seat.
‘Is it clean?’ she asked, still pulling back. ‘I’m wearing cream.’
He gave a crack of laughter.
‘What?’
Seb shook his head. He couldn’t put into words what he was thinking. But…he loved that strong seam of practicality that ran through her personality. The part of her that had once told him that skinny-dipping was for people who were too disorganised to have remembered their costumes and that bungee jumping was for people without imagination.
‘You do know how to ruin a romantic moment.’
‘Seb.’
He could feel her frustration and he smiled. No wonder he was confusing her. Seb pulled her onto his knee.
‘I’m too heavy,’ she protested.
‘You’re perfect.’ Seb let his hand curve round the soft swell of her buttocks and pulled her in closer. ‘And I really don’t want you to spoil your dress.’
She gave a small gurgle of laughter. ‘This is crazy.’
‘I know.’
‘Gianferro will be angry if I spoil his creation.’
Her neck was so near and Seb couldn’t resist pressing a kiss at the base of it and then a second further up.
‘Seb.’ She said his name on a whisper. ‘Please, tell me what’s happening.’
‘I love you.’
‘Seb—’
He raised a hand to place his fingers over her lips. ‘And I want you to marry me.’ Sure that she wasn’t going to speak, he let his hand fall down and he linked his fingers with hers. ‘Yesterday I waited with a man while his wife was in surgery…’ Seb swallowed down the painful lump in his throat as he remembered how that had felt ‘…not sure whether she was going to make it through the five-hour operation.’
Marianne sat so still in his arms. He could feel her concentration. ‘And he talked about loving her. About knowing that he’d already had more than some people ever get a chance to experience.’
Her hand twitched inside his and he continued, ‘And about not having anything to regret because they hadn’t wasted a moment.’
‘D-did she live?’
‘Yes, she lived—and I saw his face.’
Seb turned her chin so he could see deep into her eyes. This was the woman he’d hurt so badly, the woman he’d left pregnant and alone.
The woman he loved.
They had so much to regret. He had regrets piled higher than the hedge walls that surrounded them. ‘I don’t want to waste any more time. Marry me?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
VIKTORIA paced around her mother’s private sitting room, before flinging down the newspaper on a low table. ‘How completely irresponsible! What were you thinking of?’
Seb glanced down at the front page. He scarcely needed to look to know what would be there.
‘How did the cameras get inside the castle?’ he asked calmly.
Viktoria almost snorted her rage. ‘That is not the point. You assured me there was no relationship between you and Dr Chambers and you’re caught on camera kissing
.’
‘There wasn’t.’ Seb stood up and walked over to the window, his eyes searching out the guest wing. ‘And now there is.’
Isabelle picked up the newspaper. ‘She’s the woman you danced with last night.’
‘Yes.’
‘She’s very beautiful.’
Seb smiled. ‘Yes, she is.’
‘Trust you to say something like that,’ Viktoria said, turning on her sister. ‘The papers have been full of your antics for the last two months and now Sebastian is joining in. No wonder a third of the population think we’re an expensive anachronism.’
‘Not a third, Viktoria,’ their mother interrupted. She reached out her hand for her coffee. ‘A small but vocal minority. I do think it’s regrettable that this…affair has managed to push all coverage of your good work at the scene of the train crash to the third page, Sebastian, but it’s not unsalvageable.’
Seb turned back from the window. ‘I’m going to marry Marianne.’
‘Have you asked her?’ his mother asked in the small hiatus before Viktoria found her voice.
‘Yes.’
Viktoria sat down in the nearest chair and covered her eyes with her hand. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘I fell in love with her ten years ago and I intend to marry her.’
‘You’re the Sovereign Prince of Andovaria. You don’t “fall in love”.’ Viktoria’s voice was laced with contempt. ‘You’ve got a responsibility to your subjects and to your family. You can’t marry some money-grabbing English girl who thinks it might be fun to be a princess on some kind of hormonal whim.’
Seb interrupted her. His eyes were fiercely angry, though his voice stayed low and even. ‘Dr Chambers is a serious academic who’ll have to make real sacrifices to marry me.’
‘And ten years ago she was a slutty English girl who slept with someone she hardly knew.’
‘Enough.’ Seb ground the single word out.
The Dowager Princess frowned her daughter down. ‘It’s not impossible, Viktoria. Sebastian has made countless statements over the past four years to the effect that he continues to hope that he will eventually marry for love. Not once have I read anything that suggests his popularity dipped because of it. In fact, the reverse seems to be true. People seem to feel that it puts him in touch with reality.’