Chapter 23 #2
Trixie is standing at the door I slipped through minutes ago. I’m honestly not sure how long I was gone, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. Still, my cousin is tapping her foot impatiently under her rippling gown.
“I hope that was worth it,” she grumbles. “Just keep that stupid, glowy grin on the rest of the night and make parliament happy, okay?”
I rub a hand along my bearded jaw, realizing I am indeed smiling, and even the prospect of going back out into that den of vipers can’t drag that from me now. Not when I have Aurelia’s underthings in my pocket and the lingering scent of her in my nose.
I reenter the ballroom and scan for a friendly face, any friendly face.
Hell, I’ll dance with one of my sisters at this point, anything to keep this giddy high going a bit longer.
I see Miles just down the room, but his head is bent so low I can’t even try to read his lips as he whispers something to Margaret LaFleur.
He straightens up with his classic shit-eating grin as Lady Margaret turns on her heel, her lips pursed, but the rest of her face expressionless.
She spots me in the crowd and dances around the others lining the side of the floor, her mouth softening into a demure smile.
“Your Highness.” She dips into a graceful curtsy. Her silver gown billows out beneath her, and I’m forcing down the memory of another gown that flowed like that.
“Lady Margaret, always a pleasure to see you.” I give a quick kiss to the top of her hand, lifting her to stand and leading her out to the middle of the room. “Are you having a pleasant evening?” Christ, I sound like a fucking twat.
“Very pleasant, though I’d say my dearest friend seems to be winning in the enjoyment category.”
“Oh?” I spin us on the spot so I can see where she was looking, and once again, Aurelia is in the arms of another man. My hold on Margaret goes stiff, but I rein in the racing thoughts as I remember how pliant and responsive she was under my mouth mere minutes ago.
“She made quite the impression when you stood on her arrival.” Lady Margaret searches me, her hazel eyes hard and assessing, and I get the feeling she can read minds or something. “She’s radiant, is she not?”
“Lovely,” I agree. “Do you know her well?” I play the part. She doesn’t know that I’ve been guiding her friend on this sexual journey, and it’s not my place to expose that part of Aurelia.
Margaret raises a single eyebrow at me. “Quite well,” she replies almost tersely. “And I’ll have you know that she is perhaps one of the greatest humans I have ever met.”
“That is high praise, Lady Margaret. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you speak so well of anyone.”
“If you only knew her, Your Highness.”
I want to scream that I do know her. That I think the same way.
That I’m enraptured with her kindness and her goodness and her passion.
I’m dying to talk to her closest friend about the woman who just will not stay off my mind.
To get to know her friends and her family and every damn thing about her.
The song ends, and as Lady Margaret is turning away, Miles comes behind me and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Fritz, I need to borrow you a minute.”
Margaret whips back around, a swirl of shimmering tulle and satin. Her mouth is hanging half open, her eyes wide as she stares at me. “Fritz?” Her voice is so low I barely hear it.
I hold a finger to my lips. “Childhood nickname.”
Her look of surprise melts into a fierce scowl, and she glares at me like she can shoot fire from her eyeballs.
She hikes up one side of her skirt, stamping toward me, index finger held high until she’s nearly in my face.
I see Brenton out of the corner of my eye, forcing his way through the masses, and I wave him off, still holding my ground as Margaret shakes in front of me.
“You’re Fritz?” she hisses from between clenched teeth.
“Only to close friends and family,” I mutter, not appreciating the accusatory tone she’s taking with me.
Lady Margaret and I have floated around the same circles for years.
My late godfather helped her father keep his company from going under, and we’ve attended many of the same social events throughout the years.
It’s the passing familiarity that keeps me from reminding her of her place.
Realizing her impertinence, Margaret backs away a couple steps. She drops her condemnatory finger, but is still fixing me with a look fit to kill. “I know what you’re doing, Fritz,” she says my name with such venom I have to suppress a shudder. “You leave that sweet, innocent, lovely girl alone.”
“Look, Margaret.” I hold my arms out in front of me in a gesture of open sincerity. “I promise; it’s not like you think.”
“Oh, you have no idea what I think, Your Highness.” Her voice is still barely above a whisper, but her big gestures and frantic movements aren’t exactly subtle, and I can feel a few eyes on us.
Trixie must sense it too because she’s by my side, a steadying hand on my arm. “Lady LaFleur, perhaps you and I should take a moment.”
Margaret glares between the two of us, eyes flicking up to Miles also. She nods to Trixie, who offers an elbow, and the two begin to walk towards the main doors to the hall. Miles starts to follow, but Lady Margaret turns her head over her shoulder and growls, “Not you.”
Miles holds up his hands in surrender and backs away, returning to my side.
“What was that all about?” he mutters from the side of his mouth.
“Seems the cat is out of the bag about Aurelia and me.”
Trixie has found my little nanny, and the three women step into the hall together, huge gowns bumping and rustling together as they walk arm in arm.