Chapter 24
I’m so glad Caro taught me the Eightsome Reel before we came to the ball tonight. When the music kicks up and I see the circles
forming, I don’t hesitate to join the one that Penelope’s waving me over to.
“Your pink trainers with that gown,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Love, love, love.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. I almost mention that her brother’s responsible for the dress, but I don’t know how much she knows.
Instead, I take in all the details of her couture gown. There’s a net with appliquéd black lace covering her arms, shoulders,
and clavicle. Overtop is a red tartan dress, bustled at her hip to reveal cream tulle. It’s a risky look and she pulls it
off. “Your gown is killer.”
She leans in conspiratorially as our circle begins to slowly spin. “It’s Alexander McQueen and I’m obsessed. Though it caused
a row with Mother already. She thinks it’s too ‘punk rock’ for Ghillies.”
“It’s punk rock in the best way,” I tell her before we’re pulled away from each other in the course of the dance.
Our group of eight proceeds to turn and skip and hook arms. The music is lively and I’m having the best time already. The
room, with its impossibly high medieval windows, is spinning around me. I dance into the center and put my hand in with everyone
else’s. Feeling free, I’ve never felt so beautiful, my blush-pink dress spinning with me. I’ve never felt so light on my feet
or light in my heart.
As Caro told me in the shop, this ball is not only intended as a gift of gratitude, but to make staff and royals feel like
equals for a night. It’s succeeding. I continue dancing beside Penelope, and she keeps yelling “Dancing in these heels is
daft! Give me your shoes!” while we spin and laugh. When the song ends, I’m dizzy and delighted.
I move away from the dance floor, hoping to find Finn. I’ve yet to see him tonight. As I make my way around the room, I pass
Ethel and Beverly, arm in arm, looking regal in their beaded ensembles.
“Don’t forget to hydrate,” Beverly calls to me.
“And get some food on your bones,” Ethel adds. “I didn’t spend all day in the kitchen just so you could look at the pretty
appetizers.”
“I’ll go eat now,” I promise her and wander over to the refreshment table where Duffie and Caro are loading up plates.
“How’s your first Ghillies so far?” Caro asks me.
“Amazing,” I tell her, though I’m still scanning the crowd for Finn. She and I have a silent conversation.
“What are you two telepathically saying?” Duffie asks. “I know women can do that. My mum and sisters do it all the time. It’s
usually about me being an eejit.”
Caro and I laugh. “It’s not about that,” she says.
“Ah, come on, Hannah. You must think I’m a right fool for not locking down Caro immediately,” Duffie says sheepishly. There’s
an endearing little quirk to his mouth and his hair is falling over his forehead.
“Absolutely I do,” I tell him, which makes Caro cackle. “I’m just glad you finally pulled your head out of your ass.”
“She means ‘erse,’ ” Caro says, giving me a wink. Then she whispers something to Duffie, likely something dirty, because he
reddens and chokes on his punch. I really am rooting for those two. “We’ll . . . be back.”
“Go, lovebirds,” I say, shooing them off.
Finn’s still not here. I consider trying to get Penelope alone so I can quietly ask her where he is, if he’s okay. But when
she isn’t with her mother, she’s on the dance floor. I can’t blame her. If it weren’t for my growing concern, I’d be out there
too.
I do another lap of the perimeter, taking in the ornate carved-wood ceiling, the crossed swords hanging high on the walls.
As I’m admiring the embroidery work on the drapes, trying to determine what the shapes and symbols mean, I bump into the back of a man.
For a split second, I think I’ve jostled Finn.
But when the figure turns around, I see I’m gravely mistaken.
The face may resemble Finn’s, but there’s nothing warm and friendly about it.
This face is cold. Humorless. “I beg your pardon,” King Augustus says stiffly.
As part of my training, Beverly taught me how to address the royal family. But my mind has gone completely blank. I bow my
head and curtsy awkwardly. “It was my fault, Your Majesty. Your Highness. Your . . . sir.”
“Ah. The American . . .”
When I have the courage to lift my gaze, his steely eyes are scrutinizing me. “I do hope you’re enjoying your time in Scotland?”
“I am. I’m so grateful for the job, and for the chance to spend time on your beautiful estate.”
“And I suppose access to my son was a surprise perk?”
“I’m . . . sorry, what?” I think I’m supposed to say “pardon” but I don’t care.
“I’m not sure how you pulled this off. I’m rather impressed.”
He knows. He knows and he’s pissed. Is that why Finn isn’t here?
My mind is reeling. “Wait, are you saying . . . are you suggesting that this was part of some big plan? That I tricked him?” I can’t help but laugh.
“Um, no. I had a job working for the writer Margaret MacIntyre but it fell through. And when
Finn offered to help, I didn’t even know who he was!”
The king raises an eyebrow and for a moment, I see flashes of Finn in his face. Except that there’s no hint of kindness or playfulness in his expression. “You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true!”
The king clears his throat. “I don’t begrudge you your fun. But it has to end. Now. Finneas is in a delicate position with
the family, the press, and the British public. If he doesn’t reform his image now, it’ll be too late. So if you care for him,
even the slightest amount, you’ll do the proper thing and leave him alone.”
From an outsider’s perspective, it would appear as though we’re having a conversation about the art on the walls. But in my
periphery, I can see Tina, a few feet away, within earshot. I haven’t run into her since that day in the barn. She was probably
the one to tip off the king about Finn and me. Now she’s listening to me get the tongue-lashing she thinks I deserve.
Well, fuck that.
“I’m an adult,” I say, finding my voice. “So is your son. We’re both capable of making our own decisions. Enjoy the rest of
your evening, Your Highness.”
With that, I leave as quickly as I can without drawing attention to myself. My face is hot; my heart is racing. I need fresh
air. More than that, I need Finn.
I’m so upset, I don’t realize that I’ve gone out the wrong ballroom door and am now in the red hallway with all the creepy statues.
I haven’t been in this part of the castle since my first day when Finn gave me the tour.
My body’s on autopilot and it takes me to the place I felt sparks with him. The place I loved most.
When I reach the library, the light is on, the door ajar. I’m about to brazenly push through it when I hear voices.
“Beatrice—”
“I know, Finn. I know. But all I’ve been able to think about since I arrived is that I made a mistake. We belong together.
You just knew it before I did.”
My breath catches in my chest. I look through the crack in the door in time to see Beatrice gracefully wrap her arms around
Finn’s neck and kiss him.
They’re kissing.
I back away from the door and squeeze my eyes shut. I feel like I’m going to throw up. My chest hurts from the breaths I won’t
exhale; tears are streaming down my face. It’s happening. It’s happening again. Only this time, it isn’t some high school
boyfriend I would have never stayed with long-term. This time, it’s Finn.
I run down the hallway before they can hear me cry.