Chapter 9
Resenting immensely that Hortense had interrupted such an intimate moment between him and Estelle, Valentin forced himself to keep a measured tone. “I’ve been busy, Hortense—”
“So it seems.” Hortense pointedly looked from him back to Estelle. “You poor girl, I heard as well that you’d been injured. I’m so pleased to see none too seriously. You’re absolutely glowing!”
“Hortense, I was about to take my leave so Miss Easton might rest,” Valentin said before Estelle could utter a word.
Indeed, she was glowing, he knew from the wedding plans they had happily been making together before Hortense’s unexpected arrival.
Yet she looked nonplussed, too, by his half-sister’s effusive show of concern, and he didn’t blame her.
Something didn’t seem right, though now wasn’t the time to consider what might lie behind such gracious behavior after Hortense’s rudeness the night before.
Having no intention of leaving her alone with Estelle, he offered his arm to his half-sister.
“Since you’re here, I thought we might visit our other guests to assure them that all is well. This morning was no doubt a shock to them.”
“Yes, my thoughts exactly.” Hortense leaned toward Estelle and patted her hand. “Rest is the remedy you need, my dear. A pity, though, you might have to miss the coronation and ball—”
“Lord Linley seems quite confident that Miss Easton will attend,” Valentin couldn’t resist announcing, noting the tightening of his half-sister’s lips. “He’s a doctor, you know. Marvelous news, don’t you agree, Hortense?”
“Yes, yes, marvelous.”
As Hortense accepted Valentin’s assistance and rose from the chair, he noted how stiffly she held his arm, too.
He knew then she was putting on a superb act for Estelle’s benefit, and probably for him as well, but he’d never been able to fully decipher his half-sister’s motives other than that they usually suited her own purpose.
He threw a reassuring smile at Estelle, hating to leave her, but nonetheless escorting Hortense as quickly as he could from the room.
“Oh, my, will you pay a visit to our royal guests dressed so carelessly, Valentin?”
Estelle couldn’t hear his low reply as he and Princess Hortense disappeared down the hall, Robert following, while Mattie bobbed a curtsey and left the room, too, closing the door behind her.
Alone, Estelle sighed heavily.
Poor Valentin. She couldn’t help hoping that when they were married, Princess Hortense wouldn’t be such a constant visitor at the castle.
She imagined he must have been thinking something similar from his restrained expression, any trace of how relaxed and happy he’d looked moments earlier fading in his half-sister’s presence.
Only his smile just before he left the room had assured her that their secret wedding plans remained uppermost in his mind, which made her smile to herself now, too… though it quickly faded.
She still felt a bit in shock at how concerned his half-sister had appeared.
Was it possible that Princess Hortense’s attitude toward her was softening?
Perhaps she was simply being protective of Valentin until she grew to know Estelle better.
Her own sisters had always been protective of her, which was only right and natural.
Could she hope that when Valentin made the announcement about their upcoming marriage, Princess Hortense might even be happy for them?
Estelle closed her eyes, willing herself to rest as everyone had bade her. The last thing she wanted was the soreness in her side, which seemed to have increased, to prevent her from attending Valentin’s coronation and the ball afterward.
Soon she’d be waltzing in his arms…her beloved, her hero.
Prince Valentin Chevalier, the man of her dreams.
“Such lovely young women, all three of them a perfect match for you. You must tell me! Does one stand out to you above the rest?”
Accompanying Hortense to her waiting carriage after another interminable dinner, it was all Valentin could do to hold his tongue though he wanted nothing more than to declare that Miss Estelle Easton would be his bride.
Not Lady Ingrid of Bavaria with her cool beauty and brittle, too eager smiles.
Not Countess Alicia of Castile with her gleaming dark eyes that surveyed him as if he were a prize she’d already captured.
And certainly not Princess Ophelia of Luxembourg, the most avaricious of the lot with a temper she barely managed to conceal whenever the other two came close to him.
Only one more day—one more day! Valentin had to remind himself, choosing to evade his half-sister’s question as diplomatically as possible.
“Yes, they’re all lovely, just as you say, but the coronation is tomorrow, Hortense. There will be plenty of time afterward for such a discussion, agreed?”
“As you wish, Valentin,” Hortense said with an acquiescent nod of her head. “I’m sure that dancing with each of them at the ball will help you to make up your mind. You’re a prince, after all. Only the most regal and graceful partner will do as your future princess.”
Valentin nodded, too, not wishing to prolong this conversation any longer as he gestured for the footmen flanking the massive doors to open them for Hortense.
“Give my regards to Edward. I’m sorry he was unable to attend this evening.”
“Yes, he’s been out of sorts lately…though I’m sure the festivities tomorrow will cheer him. Good night, Valentin.”
Surprised that Hortense so amiably took her leave without a final word about whom he might marry, Valentin waited until she had climbed into the carriage before he turned and strode to the library.
Actually, these past several days she had hardly pressed him—well, except for her query tonight—as if she fully anticipated he would choose a bride from among the three and she didn’t need to emphasize the point at all.
Add to that, she had sent Estelle a bouquet of flowers each morning to her room, which had astounded him and yet made him suspicious. He’d read the gesture at once for what he was certain it was, a thank you that for a few days, Estelle wasn’t a distraction to him so he could focus on the others.
Which he had done, reluctantly.
An amiable Hortense was much less onerous to deal with than a fretful one, so he hadn’t said a word about the flowers or declined the walks through the castle gardens with his other guests, and had done his best conversing with all three of them the past two nights at dinner.
Yet he was sick to death of the whole charade that thankfully would soon be over!
He missed Estelle so much that it felt like a physical pain.
Every time he’d gone to her room, dutifully with Robert as his chaperone, she’d been sleeping, Adam admitting that her soreness had been worse than he’d anticipated so he’d given her a bit of laudanum.
She was recovering, so Valentin needn’t worry, but Adam wasn’t certain she would be able to attend the coronation or ball after all, which made him thrust open the door to the library in frustration—
“Your Highness, wait!”
Valentin spun around to see Estelle’s lady’s maid, Mattie, hurrying across the entrance hall toward him. At once dread seized him that something might be wrong, until the young woman smiled nervously.
“Forgive me, my lord, but Miss Easton is awake and asking for you—oh!”
He’d lunged past her so abruptly that Mattie twirled in surprise, and then raced after him.
Past startled footmen and other servants going about their evening tasks while Valentin scarcely noticed them, his heart begun to pound.
He ached as surely as he breathed to look into her beautiful brown eyes again. He didn’t stop until he reached the door to her bedchamber, although Mattie took another moment to catch up with him.
“Lord and Lady Linley already looked in on her, Your Highness…and they’ve retired for the night,” the young woman quickly explained as she caught her breath. “I’ll stand just inside while you’re here.”
He nodded, entering after her and taking care that the door was fully propped open as propriety demanded before he ventured deeper into the room.
In the lamplight he saw with keen disappointment that Estelle, clad in a white nightgown with her long hair plaited into one thick braid, might have fallen back asleep.
Her eyes were closed, her lovely features in gentle repose.
If so, he decided he would sit beside her for a while just to be near her…
“Oh, Valentin, you’re here at last.” Her eyes had flickered open, and she stared at him with such joy that his throat tightened. He sank to his knees beside the bed to draw her outstretched hand to his lips.
“Yes, my love, I’m here. I’ve come by many times but you’ve been sleeping. Are you feeling better?”
To his relief, she nodded, though she winced as she shifted in the bed so she would be closer to him.
“No, no, stay still,” he gently bade her, his heart sinking that she still felt discomfort when she moved. How could she possibly attend his coronation? Dance with him at the ball? Yet she persisted, rolling over onto her side so that she faced him to smile reassuringly.
“See? I’m better, truly. Who would have thought throwing oneself from a horse would cause such trouble?”
He couldn’t answer her for a moment, his throat grown tight again. Yet her sweet display of humor and determination had given him hope that she had every intention of seeing him crowned tomorrow at the cathedral.
“Are you feeling better, too?” she added quietly, sobering. “Adam told me he prepared a salve for you.”
“Yes, much better,” Valentin was glad to share with her, grateful for how quickly the ointment had eased his pain when rubbed into his back. “I wish my doctors had been as versed in what he knows. He’s an amazing physician.”
“Yes, he’s helped all of us at one time or another, Linette especially.
She came by to see me tonight with Adam, and told me you were kept quite busy conversing at dinner.
” The softest sigh escaped her as Estelle reached up to tenderly caress his face.
“Only one more day and then no more pretending.”
“Yes, no more pretending,” he echoed, cradling her hand to press a fervent kiss to her palm. “Everyone will know that you shall be my wife…Estelle, what’s wrong?”
A tear rolled down her cheek as she shook her head.
“Earlier today I awoke from a terrible dream, Valentin. I couldn’t find you though I looked everywhere…
and then I was home in Porthleven, walking along the same beach where you rescued me.
I was calling for you, crying out your name, but you weren’t there. You weren’t there!”
Estelle began to sob, her shoulders shaking, Valentin glancing at Mattie first to ensure she still stood inside the door before rising from his knees to pull Estelle into his arms. Then he sat with her upon the bed, cradling her as she buried her face against his chest and cried as if her heart was breaking.
“It’s all right, my love, it’s all right!” he sought to soothe her, stroking her hair. “A bad dream, nothing more, brought on by the laudanum. But you’re better now and won’t need the stuff any longer. I’m here with you, Estelle! Shh, I’m here…”
Valentin felt utter relief that her sobs had quieted, though she still clung to him as if she would never let him go.
Cursing again his cousin whose cruelty had brought Estelle to this wretched state, he kissed her damp cheek even as Mattie gasped and gestured to him wildly that someone was coming.
He had no more than settled Estelle back upon the bed and covered her snugly when Adam ran into the room barefoot and wearing only trousers, Linette close behind him in her dressing gown.
“We heard Estelle weeping. Valentin, what’s happened?”
“She told me about a bad dream,” he said to Adam, who had rushed to the bed while Valentin stepped back to give him room. “The laudanum, I think. I came here as soon as I heard from Mattie that Estelle was awake. She was asking for me, but Mattie’s been here all along—”
“Yes, my lord, I’ve been standing right inside the door!” she blurted, looking helplessly from Linette to Adam.
“It’s all right, Mattie, no one’s blaming anyone for anything,” Linette murmured as if to calm them all. She glanced reassuringly at Valentin as she drew closer to the bed, too. “We’ll stay with her until she falls asleep again, you don’t have to worry—”
“No, Valentin, don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!” Estelle pleaded in so hushed a voice that she could have whispered. Yet already she had closed her eyes, her dark lashes spiked with moisture, her slender fingers that had clutched the covers visibly relaxing.
Valentin sighed heavily, wanting so desperately to stay with her but knowing that he could not. As if reading his mind, Adam turned to him and said quietly, “No more laudanum.”
He nodded, wanting to reach down and touch her cheek one last time, but not wanting to wake her. All he could do was pray that she felt better in the morning, her sedative-induced dream hopefully forgotten.
He doubted he would forget the heartbreaking anguish in her voice, though, as he left the room and made his way down the dimly lit hall.
Her words haunted him, strangely giving him a chill.
I was calling for you, crying out your name, but you weren’t there!
Why would she have dreamed such a terrible thing when in another day’s time, he would announce to his people that he had chosen her for his bride?
Valentin turned the corner, so lost in thought that he nearly ran into a footman who appeared to be checking a flickering lamp hung from an iron sconce.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. A good night to you.”
Valentin murmured the same, though he found it odd that a footman would be handling a task usually accomplished by a chambermaid.
Now that he thought of it, he could have sworn he’d spied the same fellow—dark curly hair, stocky build—in the entrance hall when Mattie had come running to find him, but he’d been in such a mad rush that he couldn’t be sure.
One thing he was sure of was how weary he felt after what had just occurred with Estelle, his coronation day fast approaching.
Praying that she would be there to share with him one of the most important moments of his life, he forgot about the footman and continued on his way to his private apartment.
Please, Lord, may she feel well enough to attend. Truly, the occasion would not be as memorable without her.