Page 45 of A Torn Allegiance
“So don’t speak with my father?”
“I’m quite willing to speak to your father.”
She again made a sort of half nod that he couldn’t read very well at all.
“I think it best we attempt a courtship without making anything known quite yet.” Her face pinched, and he knew by that one expression that even the thought of officially attempting such a thing would bring on a bout of concern and worry.
Before he could attempt to assuage her concern, her lip jutted out and caught every sliver of attention left in him. The softness of her mouth beckoned to him in ways nothing ever had.
But she turned from him to pout toward the back gardens. “If we must make an official sort of conversation, then we must consider things like your crown.”
He was taken aback by her comment. He knew she was correct, but he had hoped not to address anything more complicated than simply getting to know her as a potential match.
“And then we would have to face things like agreements between countries and loyalties and alliances with people, and of course, there is Scotland to consider, my tenants, and your tenants as well. I don’t know if any of those things need to be discussed right in this moment or between our fathers. Not yet.” She breathed out the remaining breath that was not required for the fastest sentences he’d heard in a long time.
But every word left him unsettled. Naturally, all the things she mentioned might need to be discussed, but he had imagined Lady Elsie and he would be perfectly aligned in their expectations, as if the magic of their dance would carry over to all things. And, judging by the concern on her brow, she was not expecting a perfect alignment.
“For example,” she continued, “are you not at all concerned with France’s closeness to your borders? With the very presence of Lamoreaux in England? With the risk of losing your water security and with the new war with Sweden happening in those very waters?” Her chin rose in challenge.
He blinked three times before he caught up to her train of thought. As usual, she was abrupt and to the point and passionate. But here again she was fixated on subjects that held no bearing between them at all, things that mattered only on an international level, and mattered they did, very much. He spent all day every day consumed with the things she had just mentioned, and he saw no reason to dwell on them at a ball, and most particularly not in a moment of establishing a courtship. “Must we discuss things of that nature? Might we instead talk of things that are more suited—?”
“To my feminine ear?” Her chin lifted higher in a careful defiance.
He wasn’t certain why, but he knew he had to tread carefully indeed. “Yes, precisely.” He shook his head. “No, not exactly. More suited to the conversation at hand.” He pleaded with her with his eyes, hoped she would understand and allow some of the magic to return between them.
But it had gone.
Her face became a mask to him. “I see.” She turned away. “Perhaps we should return to the ballroom, then. I am certain others will be seeking our attention.”
He jumped. “You speak truth. We cannot have them notice our absence.”
“Certainly not. We wouldn’t want them to assume your attentions have turned from the princesses.”
“The princesses?” His confusion deepened, and he knew he was in trouble, but he wasn’t sure exactly how he had arrived there.
She walked swiftly to the doors.
“Might I pay a call tomorrow?”
“You might. Calling hours, you know.”
He stepped up to her side, and even though she moved swiftly, he was able to keep pace and whisper, “But I hoped to come at a time outside the normal crush, a time more... intimate, perhaps. Our ride...”
She stiffened. “I don’t see why that would be necessary. If we are to stick to subjects palatable to any female ear, it doesn’t matter who hears.”
“Hmm.”
She turned to him, and for a flicker of a glance, he saw her vulnerability. And then it passed, and she curtsied low. “Your Highness.” Without again meeting his gaze, she turned from him and made her way to the opposite side of the ballroom.
And just like that, one of the most intimate moments of his life had turned into the most confusing.
Prince Kristoff approached. “I see you’ve managed to offend her twice in one evening.”
“Perhaps I’m not cut out for courting a woman.” Hayes shook his head.
“Perhaps not.”
When he turned to his brother, ready to refute his assumption, the combined humor and sympathy he saw gave him pause. “Will you assist me? I don’t know what to make of myself or her or us together. One moment we are one unified force in the world and even words feel unnecessary...”
