Page 19 of Slippers and Thorns
Did it matter, as long as he chose Ella when given the choice?
His arm did feel awfully nice around her waist, his large hand warm through the thin fabric of her dress, which tempted her to agree. And she enjoyed having his company again. But if she accepted his attentions when he had just been entertaining someone else, did that make her desperate?
Did she care?
“I have a headache,” she finally answered, struggling to maintain a steady voice. “I believe I would like to return to my room to rest.”
Michael looked disappointed, but in a moment he had smoothed his expression. “May I escort you there, then?” he politely asked.
“Yes,” Ella replied, taking the arm he offered. She tried not to feel the loss of it around her waist too keenly.
Instead of taking the most direct route, he meandered along the edge of the gardens before entering the castle through a side door. From there, he led her slowly through the castle in a highly-circuitous path. It made the walk much longer, but even though she was still annoyed, Ella couldn’t quite find it in herself to be upset about spending more time with him. Not when he was choosing to spend it with her.
When they finally reached her door, Michael seemed reluctant to release her, setting his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked quietly. The look in his brown eyes made Ella uncertain as to whether he was referring to her supposed headache. “I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“You didn’t seem to mind a few days ago,” Ella whispered back. “I’m sure you saw.”
Michael lowered his gaze to the floor. “That was…” He trailed off, leaving his explanation – if indeed that’s what it was – unfinished.
Ella gently pulled her hand away. “I just need to rest. I’ll see you at lunch.”
Nodding, he stepped back. “Of course. I hope you are feeling better by then.”
As Ella turned to close the door after she slipped through, she saw Charlie taking up his post in the hallway. At home in Hartford, her guards were more laid back, but when they traveled, whichever one was on duty always followed her more closely. So why, then, was Michael glaring at him?
Shaking her head, she crossed to her bedroom and settled herself on the canopied bed so that she could see out the window as she leaned against the headboard. She had a beautiful view of the gardens, but if she were wandering the paths, she would be able to smell the flowers, too.
She sighed. Maybe she should have let Michael walk her through them, after all.
But no. He had hurt her, he hadn’t apologized, and even after their day together on the road, he still spent part of his morning laughing with Lady Ilse. She was mad at him, and she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. She was lonely, but she wasnotdesperate.
The next week passed without changing Ella’s resolution. Michael did spend less time with Lady Ilse – Ella refused to “rescue” him again, but Axel and Katy appeared to be taking turns separating them when his smile grew a little too forced – but he spent more time chatting with the other noble ladies.
He tried to take Ella with him as he made the circuit, but Ella disliked the inane clucking of the women in their feathers, even when they didn’t look down their noses at her, so she declined and wandered around the edge of the gathering, trying not to visibly sulk while her husband made himself pleasant.
Since Katy insisted that it was impossible to have royal visitors and not have a ball, a small celebration had been planned for a few nights before their departure. Ella couldn’t decide if she was excited or not. She liked to dance, and she liked to wear her pretty ballgowns, but being mad at Michael dampened her enthusiasm. True, she could dance with other men – would be expected to, even, as part of the political dance that was always part of such events – but the highlight for her was always spending as much of the night as she could in Michael’s arms.
The day of the ball arrived. Ella put on her favorite blue dress and let her maid style her golden hair into something appropriately stylish. She fingered the jeweled necklace at her throat and sighed.
“What’s wrong, Your Highness?” her maid asked. “Is your hair not to your liking?”
Ella smiled and turned to face the young woman, whose own long black hair was pulled up in a braided bun. “My hair is fine, Jackie. You did a marvelous job, as usual.”
Jackie beamed. “Thank you, Your Highness. But then, what is bothering you? If I may be so bold,” she hastily added.
“I am simply…not looking forward to the ball,” Ella admitted.
“But why?” Jackie asked, black eyes wide. “I can’t imagine not wanting to go if I could. And you, looking so beautiful – why, there won’t be a man in that room who won’t be jealous of Prince Michael.”
That caught Ella’s attention. If other men would wish to be in Michael’s place, did that mean that if they were, Michael would be equally envious?
It might help him to understand how she felt.
“Thank you, Jackie,” Ella said with a coy smile. “I believe I find myself growing more interested already.”
She waltzed out of her room. Henry was standing outside her door, nodding to Charlie as he prepared to head to the barracks to rest. They both turned to face her as she exited.
“Good evening, Your Highness,” they greeted her.
