by Rachel Hauck
“Yes, but I was also terrified of being hurt again. The chap I dated at uni was supposed to propose the day we graduated. Instead he broke it off, and a month later moved in with someone else. I now know that I dodged a bullet, but at the time I was devastated.”
“Your whole world crumbled. I know the feeling.”
“I suppose you do. More than I.”
While it seemed no one had endured a humiliation at his level, heartbreak was still heartbreak. Painful and dark, froth with doubts and questions about everything from worthiness to kissing skills.
Daffy reminded him he wasn’t love’s only walking wounded.
“So Thomas must wait.”
“Thomas must wait.” A soft silence lingered between them until Daffy spoke again. “Do you want me to look at the wedding ball menu for you? Though I’m not sure why. You’ve attended dozens of state dinners, royal balls, and garden parties. Just choose something similar. Choose what you and John love.”
“Choose what I love?” Gus stopped under the corner street lamp and peered down at her. “What if I can’t have what I love? Like hamburgers and French fries?” He retrieved his American accent.
“Are we still talking about menus?”
“Aren’t we?” He knew he was baiting her as a way to deal with the jealousy he felt when Thomas texted.
“I feel like you’re talking about Coral or Robbi.”
He turned for the hill leading to the castle gate. “We’re talking about a menu. Do you really think John or Holland would appreciate hamburgers and chips? That’s what I’d choose.”
“For a royal ball? Seriously? Gus, why are you being so weird?”
Weird. Because he felt things he didn’t want to feel. “Though I could have an American buffet table. Coral and her husband will be there.”
“What? Coral’s coming?”
“Yes, she’s a friend of Holland’s. So is Robbi.”
“Are you, I mean, how does—”
“Does it matter how I feel? Or what I want?” Gus dropped the fake accent and pressed the gate’s security code. “This ball is not about me. It’s about my brother and his bride.”
“Tell me you’re not going alone.” She hurried ahead of him, walking backward up toward the stand of trees. “You must enter the ballroom with a stunning, amazing woman on your arm.”
“More stunning and amazing than the two that got away?”
“They don’t own the corner on amazing. There are plenty of women who shine as bright as they. Even more, because those women wouldn’t have broken your heart.”
Gus laughed. “Is that a true qualification, Daffy Caron?” He secured the gate behind them and started toward the trees. “But if I show up at this ball with a stunning, amazing woman, the press will go bonkers. She’ll be in the news, hounded and scrutinized, having to defend herself. I’ll repeatedly say, ‘We’re only friends,’ which no one will believe. In the end, this amazing woman will feel slightly rejected, which isn’t fair. Quite frankly, I’m not up for the drama. Watch out for the limbs and roots.”
Well, he’d made a speech and was glad. He meant every word. It was a bit of a relief to summarize his love life with such passionate clarity. Why he was an affirmed bachelor for the time being. He’d preached to his own soul—which was needed.
“You have to move on sometime.” Daffy stepped in front of him when they’d cleared the trees.
“Not by the wedding ball. I’ll be fine. Dance the opening waltz with my aunt or granny then duck in the Blue Room for billiards with the boys.”
“Now you’re just being stubborn. Hiding won’t be fair to John and Lady Holland. Besides, you need to speak to Coral. Ask her why she ran away. I mean, you said you didn’t know.”
“I was planning to avoid her.”
“But she left for a reason. How can you—”
“Avoid a conversation of how worthless I am? Easy. How I didn’t make her happy? How I failed in some dramatic fashion? Enough for her to justify driving away from the abbey instead of toward it? How my humiliation was worth her…her, what? Freedom?”
“And what if she says something completely different? Something that gives you understanding. What if her reason has nothing to do with you?”
“Impossible. It had everything to do with me. If not, why did she not share her fears with me? Let me help? Be the husband I wanted to be? No, she found some fatal flaw, and if it’s all the same to you, Daffy, and the rest of the world, including my family, I’d like to keep some of the dignity and self-worth I regained the past two years. I’ll not have it trampled again so soon.” He moved past her for the hidden, ivy covered door. “I’m going in. It’s cold.”
“What if it wasn’t you? What if it was all about her?” Daffy was a stubborn lass, no?
He swung around. “The old ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech?”
“There’s truth in that speech, cliché or not.” Daffy fell in step with him, their feet splashing through muddy snow pockets. The groundskeepers would lay new sod before the ball, hoping to dry up the ground for guests to take long walks or play a game of bocce. “What if she realized she wasn’t ready? Not worthy? Or that she’d be a foreigner in the royal family, living away from home. That must be daunting.”
“Then she should’ve said so. And wasn’t her readiness, worthiness, as you say, for me to decide? Not her? She left because I wasn’t worthy, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to end this conversation.”
“What if I ask her?” Daffy’s suggestion arrested him.
“Ask her what? Why she left? No, Daffy, leave it.” His eyes watered with a sudden dash of emotions and he was glad for the dark stairwell.
“She told Good Morning New York. Why not your friend?” Daffy lit the torchlight on her phone, shining it on their feet.
“She told Good Morning New York nothing. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what she said. Nor of what she told my family. It’s all very mysterious and cryptic. Frankly, I didn’t want to know then and I’m not sure I want to know now.”
“I watched it. She said something about—”
“Daffy, please. I’m asking as your friend. Leave it be.”
“So you don’t want to know? Really?”
“In this case ignorance is bliss. Better than being hurt. Besides, what good will it do? She’s moved on. I’ve moved on. Let the past die.”
He illuminated the steps with his phone’s light and started up. The conversation soured his silly affection for Daffy and reminded him not to get caught up in the romance of the Old Hamlet, of Dalholm’s lore of love. Romance was his Achilles’ heel.
Despite his attraction to Daffy’s forthright charms, he was not ready to move on. So, other than their mutual interest in the King Titus, they had no business hanging round together.
He bid her goodnight in the royal wing. “See you in the morning.”
She smiled softly. “I’ll be ready.”
In his apartment bedroom, Gus slipped from his clothes then brushed his teeth. He fell into bed with nothing on his mind but sleep and his morning errand. Not true. Daffy was all over his thoughts. Her bold honesty irritated him. Why did he need to speak to Coral? To hear her justification for leaving? He didn’t.
Gus snatched up the remote and powered on the telly. Then after a moment, clicked it off.
In the dark room, his gaze drifted toward the window where Emmanuel’s predicted snow fell through the ethereal glow of the castle’s lights.
A soft laugh vibrated through him. There was nothing predictable or usual about this trip to Hadsby. And oddly enough, Gus found the notion comforting.
Chapter Fourteen
Daffy
Midnight. And she still wasn’t sleepy. Her thoughts churned and turned. All because of her conversation with Gus.
He was so close when he helped her on with her coat. His warmth whispered over her. When she all but ran into him, their eyes met, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Just the memory of
it now made her lips tingle. She’d seen desire in his deep blues.
Then her phone rang. Worst luck. Ella. And what did he mean when he said he’d be like Prince Michael, falling to his death from the Northton Cliffs while holding the hand of his true love.
What true love? Did he mean her? She was the other person in the scenario. And why was he so touchy about Coral? Didn’t he realize how amazing he was? He went on and on about the amazing women in his life but failed to recognize his own real worth.
Now the glowing blue digital clock on the other side of the room declared 1:00 a.m. Somewhere in her musings she’d drifted asleep only to be startled awake by her buzzing 6:30 a.m. alarm.
Just when she entered a sweet dream too. She wore an exquisite blue gown with a vast skirt and running through a field toward a golden sunset and the old cracked portico. A relic from another era located on the highest ground behind the castle. Once used as a lookout for invaders from the east.
Daffy sank down under the covers, eyes closed, and willed herself to return to the dream. But it was too late. The slumber fairy had vanished.
The alarm sounded again.
All right, all right.
She kicked out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. Gus would arrive soon. After a quick shower, she tugged on her best jeans and warmest jumper, fixed her hair in a ponytail, and brushed on a bit of makeup. Well, she didn’t want to scare the poor lad.
After the chair was safely delivered to Emmanuel and his workshop, she’d do some paperwork before heading to the lodge for lunch. To her friends. To her fiancé. To her love.
After her uni boyfriend confession last night, she realized she might be holding back on Thomas. Afraid she’d get hurt. Well, she’d not pull a Prince Gus and refuse to trust.
Today, she’d be all Thomas’s. She’d been too flirty with the prince. And frankly, he with her. Her lips had a lot of nerve tingling with the idea of a kiss from him.
Thomas was nothing like the dirtbag from uni. He was the opposite. Proposed in a public place with a very public demonstration of his love and devotion. That should be enough for her to trust him. For their relationship to work, she must go all in.
Fear of rejection was a prison, not a protector. She’d learned young that rejection was a part of life. From inside the walls of Perrigwynn Palace to the man she thought she’d marry.
Looking at you, Rex Childress. And you, Your Majesty, Queen Catherine II.
She’d loved them both. And they rejected her. But it’s how she handled the rejection that really mattered.
Turned out, Rex was a pinhead, and Daffy was well rid of him. She didn’t miss him at all. But the queen? She’d been like a favorite aunt. A friend, really. She’d invited Daffy to tea or to sit with her in her lounge. She would often reach out and stroke her hair. Then their relationship was over in the span of an afternoon and Daffy was banished.
Today…today she’d not let her past define her affection for Thomas. Or her future. She was going to break out some romance. Stop being the practical girlfriend, the practical couple, and say, “I love you.”
In the meantime, there was the business of the chair. When Gus arrived, he slipped inside like some royal secret agent. “I heard voices down the corridor, but no one saw me.”
“Let’s pack this up and go.” But he didn’t move. Just stared at her for a long moment. “What?”
He blanched. “Nothing.”
“Enough with that routine. Tell me.” She patted her face. For first time, she could tell she wasn’t blushing. “Is something amiss?”
“No, you just, I’m sorry I was curt with you last night.”
“No, I was being pushy. I’m the one who should apologize. I just hate that you think you’re worthless because of what Coral Winthrop did.”
He smiled. “It warms my heart to hear you say it. And I don’t think I’m entirely worthless. I’ve grown up a bit the last two years.”
“If you talk to her I’m sure she’ll say something you never imagined.”
“Maybe. Shall we get the chair? Did you see it snowed last night?”
“Our carpenter is also a weatherman.”
In the dressing room, Gus knelt beside the chair, which was still swathed in the pink blanket. “Hello, mate. Time to haul you to surgery.”
Spreading out the blanket, they rearranged the pieces to make their task easier. There were two main pieces. The two right-side legs, and the rest of the chair. The tall, flat back of the chair had snapped from the seat rail but remained held in place by the fabric, which was untorn.
The back right leg was the worst. It snapped in half and broken away from the seat rail, which fractured a section of the back post, which now poked against the purple cloth. The front right leg was partially splintered and needed to be reattached to the base.
“What do you think?” Gus helped her rewrap the Titus in the blanket. “It doesn’t look so bad, does it?”
“It doesn’t look good, either. If it’s not repaired properly, we won’t have a choice but to confess. Keep an eye on this carpenter. Also, the chair needs to be covered with the blanket and a tarp. Do you know the condition of this workshop? The longer the chair is exposed to the elements, the more damage we risk. Be sure to lock the workshop when you’re done.”
“I’m not entirely an idiot, Daffy. I’ll protect the chair.”
“Sorry, I’m just nervous.”
“Yeah, me too. I had a nightmare Mum surprised us and came up early for the ball. Ready?”
“Now I’ll have the same nightmare.” Daffy pulled on her coat and reached for a satchel. “Ready. Try not to bang the pieces about.”
“What’s in the case?”
“The chair specifications to help you and Emmanuel put it back together. It was last inspected with minor repairs in 1922.” Daffy hovered next to him. “If we make it to wherever we’re going without being seen, I’ll kiss your muddy boots.”
“My boots?” He arched his brow and gave a look. The kind that pinged her heart. “Surely you can do better.”
“Ha ha. You know what I mean.” Why did she say that? Of course she wouldn’t kiss his boots or his lips. Not even his cheek.
Gus peeked out the suite door. “Coast is clear. To our secret stairs.”
They’d have to walk across the Grand Gallery, but the dresses she and Lucy set up would act as frontline guards, hiding them from the view below.
They entered the hall with the blanket swinging between them like a hammock. Eyes forward, Daffy moved in time with the prince’s long stride. Adrenaline turned her legs to jelly, but she pressed on and they slipped through the dresses without a word, then all but ran through the back half of the open gallery.
Now they were in the royal wing where no one but Stern and Hemstead entered, except the weekday maids.
“Where’s Stern?” Daffy kept her voice low.
“Gone to see his sister in The Haskells.”
“And Hemstead?”
“Breakfast. Oh, he gave me a ticking off this morning for sneaking away last night, but I told him I was working on a surprise for John, and he settled down.”
“Yes, but did he believe you?”
“He growled, so I think so.” He pulled on the book spine and the bookshelf door opened. They eased themselves down the narrow back stairwell, mindful of their priceless burden, but they went right toward the garage instead of left toward the door to the grounds.
Gus punched in another security code. Daffy stepped inside and stopped short, nearly causing Gus to lose his hold on the blanket.
“Oh my word.” There were no less than one, two, three, four…twelve motors. “Who needs twelve cars?”
“People who like motors. Like Dad.” Gus motioned to an old car just inside the doorway. “They’re in order of year. That’s the Starfire #89, built in ’04. That’s 1904. The manufacturer only made seven, so it’s one of the rarest cars in the world. The very first one made is in the Grand Duchy of Hessenberg. Princes
s Regina found it in Meadowbluff’s mews. Four are in museums. Two by private collectors. Dad bought this one from a billionaire getting divorced. He didn’t want the true value to be known, so he sold it for one percent of its worth. And no, you can’t have it for the Royal Trust.”
“We will have it one day, you’ll see. And don’t forget the Princess Louisa wedding gown. It’s a rare, priceless gem too. Because of the gown’s designer and enduring style. The fashion world is still talking about it a hundred twenty years later.”
“In centuries to come, some lass will be flying around Hadsby in a garden cart trying to find a skilled seamstress to repair her carelessness with the Louisa.” Gus nodded back toward the cars, raising his eyebrow.
Daffy laughed. “Probably. In moments like these, I realize how much of history we don’t see. Our sojourn through this life is so short. We only see a small slice of humanity.”
“Let’s pray we survive our slice.” He stopped by a shiny, blue cart fitted with tracks instead of wheels and a bed in the back for hauling. They gentled the chair into the back then Gus trotted off for the keys.
“Here we go.”
Into the dawning day, the cart rattled over the fresh snow, crashing down into hidden winter divots.
Daffy held on as he steered toward the mews, giving him a sideways glance, all too aware of how much she loved being on an adventure with him. Even if it involved a precious artifact.
Up and over a small hill, the row of white sheds in need of a spring sprucing appeared. The doors were closed except for the very last one from which emerged a tall, regal Emmanuel.
Daffy stiffened and gripped the satchel. Gus slowed the cart. The man had been nothing but kind when they met at the Belly of the Beast, but here in this moment, he seemed as majestic as the surrounding mountains.
“Emmanuel.” Gus stopped the cart. “Thank you for coming. Truly.”
“My pleasure. I’ll help you carry the chair inside.” As he passed by Daffy, he touched her shoulder, a rush of goodwill warming her. “Good to see you.”
