Chapter Seventeen
Their time at Grantham passed quickly. Roberta found herself enjoying Niki’s company more and more.
One morning at the breakfast table, everyone was seated together.
Roberta, being helpful, spooned Lily’s boiled egg into her mouth, until the little girl knocked over the egg cup and yellow egg spilled onto Niki’s pristine white shirt.
For a moment, there was complete silence, mouths open and eyes wide as everyone waited to see what would happen.
Apart from Roberta, who found the startled expression on Niki’s face unbearably amusing.
“Has no one ever painted you with egg before?” she asked, fighting the urge to laugh.
Niki looked down at himself and sighed. “I did not realize that was a thing with the Ashtons. I should have brought more clothes with me.”
Appreciative laughter rang out, and everyone relaxed.
After that, any doubts her sisters had about their engagement being genuine vanished.
Georgia would certainly have shared the news of the kiss, but no one spoke of it to Roberta, or scolded her, or reminded her of past Ashton scandals.
Even her grandmother seemed content to allow the romance between Niki and Roberta to take its course.
Together, they rode up into the downs to the north of Grantham, where the air was fresh and the views took their breath away.
There was always a bodyguard following close by, and although Niki complained about the lack of privacy—“How can I talk to you when we are always being listened to?”—Roberta was glad of Freddie’s caution when it came to the prince.
Once they reached one of her favorite spots, Roberta jumped off Arrow and sank down into the meadow of flowers.
Niki followed, smiling. She had noticed he’d smiled a great deal since he had arrived.
Last night at dinner, he had even joined in some of the banter, tentatively at first but then with growing confidence.
Roberta could imagine him fitting in perfectly well with the rest of her family, growing more used to the Ashton ways, but of course, that would never happen.
She had to keep reminding herself that their relationship was finite, that soon they would part, and her life would go on without him by her side.
“In Holtswig, I enjoy riding through the forests surrounding my home. There are no views like this,” he said, standing and gazing at the Grantham estate below. “And yet I think you would like it.”
Roberta said nothing. What was there to say? She reached down to pluck a flower, twirling it in her fingers. “Olivia seemed to think Holtswig was cold and damp.”
He sat down beside her. “Did she? Perhaps she was just making excuses. She was always fixed on the Duke of Northam, and he on her.”
Roberta laughed. “Yes, it was obvious to everyone but them.” She paused, examining the flower’s white petals and yellow stamen as if they fascinated her. “What is your home like? I mean where you live, not the country.”
He said nothing, and when she looked up, he was watching her fingers on the flower, gathering his thoughts.
“Do you live with Ernest and Karl?” she added. “Are you all one big, happy family in a castle?”
That made him frown. “You have a strange notion of what a happy family looks like. Karl has rooms in the castle, as does Ernest, but Karl has his own home too. He lives his own life. Ernest is too young for that, and I prefer to keep my eye on him. Besides, I enjoy his company.”
Roberta smiled. “I can see that.” She hesitated, but a thought had been worrying her and she wanted to share it.
“My friend Estelle Longhurst…Do you remember her from the theater? She was very taken with Karl in a…a romantic way. I did suggest he was too old for her and far too experienced. Despite the way she flirts, Estelle is an innocent. I am a little worried.”
Niki was frowning, his dark eyes watchful.
“You were right to warn her. Karl is charming, but he has a reputation when it comes to women. There are numerous little Karls scattered throughout the kingdom. As well-liked as he is, Karl does not seem to have a sense of right or wrong when it comes to his lady admirers. Warn your friend to stay away from him.”
Roberta clenched her hand, and when she opened her fingers the flower fell, mangled, to the ground. “I will warn her as soon as I return to London.”
“My father indulged him and laughed at his antics, and I expect Karl still thinks he can sleep in whichever bed he wants to, and he will be forgiven.” Niki’s voice was hard and disapproving. “I will see he leaves your friend alone.”
Roberta nodded. “Thank you.” She looked up again and smiled. He was seated very close to her, and when he reached out to take her hand where it lay on the broken flower, she did not pull away.
“You know I would do anything for you,” he said quickly. “Nearly anything,” he qualified, and she saw the flush of color across his cheeks. “God, that sounds arrogant, doesn’t it? If Karl inherited our father’s charm, then I inherited his arrogance.”
She turned her hand to hold his, their fingers intertwining.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think you are arrogant, Niki.
It is a defense, isn’t it? When you are feeling ill at ease in a crowd, or in a situation where you are not comfortable.
It is your fallback, your mask, and you use it to protect yourself. To hide behind.”
Now she was flushing too, thinking she had said too much, gone too far. She turned away to avoid his gaze, but he leaned forward, and suddenly he was so close, his breath stirring her hair. He smelled so good, of clean male and horse, a perfect combination in Roberta’s mind.
“You know you can say anything to me,” he said softly.
“I want you to be yourself when we are together. I like that girl. I always did. I felt she was my friend. The way she blurted out her deepest secrets and most intimate thoughts was fascinating to me. I am sorry you do not feel you can always do that anymore.”
Roberta looked at him in amazement. His dark eyes were focused on hers, and she could see they were full of honesty.
He meant it. She tried to think of a response, but her head was in a whirl.
Niki, who hated scandal and always seemed to vanish when the Ashtons did something improper, liked it when she spoke what was in her heart?
And all this time, she had been trying so hard to curb that tendency.
“I like being your friend,” she said. Then, after a moment, “You know that society does not approve of someone who rattles on about silly things. I have been trying not to do it. At least, not when I’m in company where I want to be thought of as a proper young lady.
I can still be myself with my family and my close friends.
I think you must understand that, Niki.”
“Then if I am your friend too, be yourself with me,” he insisted. “And I will be myself with you.”
It sounded like a vow. Roberta took a deep breath and wondered why her heart was beating so hard. “All right, I promise I will.”
“We will rattle on about silly things together.”
That made her laugh. “I can’t imagine you rattling on about anything!”
He hid his smile, but his voice was teasing.
“When I was a boy, I couldn’t prevent myself from talking, telling everyone in detail what I thought and felt.
My father put a stop to it. No, don’t be sad,” he said hastily, squeezing her fingers.
“The ruler of a country cannot prattle on. He must be silent and listen and only speak when he has something to say.”
Roberta squeezed back. “I understand that. But, Niki, you still need someone you can go to, someone you can speak to as you wish, when you wish, otherwise…I don’t know, if it was me, I would explode!”
He laughed and, leaning closer still, brushed his lips against her cheek.
Roberta took another shaky breath. “I ride a lot,” she admitted. “It helps to calm me. When I feel as if I cannot take another minute of forcing the true me into hiding, then I ride.”
Niki kissed her again, closer to her lips now. “I also ride,” he admitted. “When my head begins to hurt and I feel I cannot bear another moment of listening to the endless advice I am given, then I ride.”
“We could ride together,” Roberta said, but then wondered how that would be possible if Niki was in Holtswig and she was in England. “While you are here, we can ride together,” she corrected herself.
He nodded, but there was a sadness in his eyes. “I would like that very much,” he said softly. “While I am here.”
Instinctively, she kissed him on the cheek. It was a harmless gesture, the kiss of one friend to another, and he had said they were friends, hadn’t he?
Why then did she feel as if they could be far, far more? And why, when he turned his head and kissed her lips, did it feel so right?