Lady in Waiting

by Lady Victoria Hervey

  There was a moment as I stood at the top of trail, looking out at the world before me, where I felt…better. My heart wasn’t so heavy and weary, my nerves weren’t so rattled. The scent of crisp, white snow teased my nostrils, the pale winter sun warm on my face. It reminded me of every skiing holiday I had gone on as a child. I would brag to Daddy about how well I had done that day and he would cheer me on and make me feel like I was his entire world.

  Daddy had always said I was his greatest gift. And I was—literally. I was born on his birthday and it made me feel all the closer to him.

  I tipped my face towards the sky and closed my eyes. God, I miss you, Daddy. Grief didn’t wash through me, sorrow wasn’t making my eyes tear. For the first time, thinking about Daddy wasn’t painful.

  With a deep breath, I opened my eyes and threw my body forward. Wind howled in my ears as I hurtled down the trail. The world raced past me and I laughed. The greatest feeling about skiing for me was when I felt like I was flying.

  A body came forward and matched pace with me. I glanced over to see Peter on his snowboard, cutting through the snow like an expert. He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but return it.

  I felt free…like I was capable of anything. Including my own happiness.

  “You’re amazing,” Peter said as he caught his breath. We had reached the bottom of the trail and were waiting for the next ski lift to take us back up. “How did you last four days with your friends?”

  I shrugged, a little embarrassed to be reminded of my behaviour. I think Peter knew without my having to say a word that I’d had more fun with him those first few hours than I had in four whole days with my friends. It felt great to let my muscles loose and really go for it.

  “It’s nice to finally have someone to go down the mountain with,” Peter said. “Harriet never bothered to push herself enough to progress, and our parents are more interested in socialising.”

  “I always had my brother to ski with. Augustus is like me and really sporty, so we did a lot together growing up.”

  “You’re lucky to be so close to him. Harriet and I, while really close in age, are so different in the things we like and are interested in,” Peter said.

  We climbed onto the ski lift, our legs pressed together. Even through all the layers I wore, a shiver managed to snake down my body.

  “I love Harriet,” I said, trying to shake away the unsettled feeling of being so close to him. “She’s a great friend.”

  “She always speaks highly of all you girls. I never realised you were one of them the night of the dance.” Peter opened his mouth like he had something more to say, but changed his mind at the last minute.

  We jumped off the ski lift and got ready for another trip down the mountain. As I put my mask into place, Peter touched my arm. “Loser buys the hot chocolates?”

  I got ready to take off. “Hmm…sure!” And I pushed off, leaving him at the top.

  “Hey! Wait up, you cheat!” he bellowed after me.

  He caught up to me in seconds. We were neck and neck for a few hundred yards but then Peter crept in front of me, creating a fragile gap.

  Not going to happen…

  Twisting my hips and narrowing my gaze in determination, I closed the gap and grasped a tiny advantage that put me in front of him. Yes! I’m going to…

  Peter passed me again with a grin.

  I stumbled, caught unaware.

  He peered back at me over his shoulder, and I gritted my teeth. I would not be beaten.

  Using every amount of force in my body, I pushed myself forward with renewed vigour.

  The distance closed.

  A foot.

  Half a foot.

  An inch.

  Then…

  I sailed past him at the very last second, stealing the win right out from under him. Skidding to a stop, I gave Peter a triumphant grin. He returned the smile…and it warmed me to my cold toes.

  Peter treated me to a hot chocolate in the lodge. And whether it was from the peace I’d found at the top of the mountain, or the exercise, I felt relaxed around him. We found seats on a large couch in front of the fireplace, and we sipped our hot drinks, chatting and getting to know each other again.

  The longer I sat with him, the harder it was to remember what a bad idea it would be to let myself enjoy his company too much. After our hot chocolates we browsed the gift shop and I found a new wristband with the Cairngorm National Park emblem and I also bought a postcard to send to Mummy.

  Peter and I had a quick lunch before getting back to our sports and spending the rest of the afternoon competing with each other. It wasn’t until we headed back to our rendezvous point to be picked up by Glen and Julia that I got a chance to see my friends.

  The girls gushed about the boys they’d seen again. They’d ended up spending the afternoon together in the lodge and forgetting all about their skiing. But that was my friends—who wants to bother with skis when boys are involved?

  When we got back to the chalet, I grabbed a quick shower to wash away the day’s exercise. I was bone-tired and weary as I trudged back to my room. Pulling on leggings, a T-shirt, a thick woolly jumper and cosy socks, I lay down on my bed…just for a second.

  I was startled awake by Athena jerking the door open, letting a flood of light from the hall into the room.

  “Are you sleeping?” she asked as she stood over the bed.

  “I was,” I grumbled. A yawn almost split my face in half.

  Athena laughed quietly. “Well get up, dinner’s ready.” She whipped off the blanket that had covered me.

  I swore and curled up in a tight ball.

  “Hurry up, Freddie.”

  “Coming, coming,” I mumbled. I sat up in bed and stretched my arms out. One last yawn and I stood up to leave the room.

  As I closed the bedroom door behind me, another door opened. Peter stepped into the hall from the bathroom with just a towel around his waist.

  Water droplets ran down his bare chest. His bare, beautifully sculpted, tanned chest. The planes and curves held me riveted as I dragged my eyes down his body to the thin trail of hair that began under his belly button and disappeared beneath his towel.

  Snapping my eyes back up, I took in his damp hair, which was a darker shade than normal. His brilliant green eyes were bright and heated as he watched me watch him.

  “Freddie, do I need to come back in there?” Athena called from the great room.

  My cheeks burned. “No!” I yelped, quickly turning away from Peter. “I’m coming!” I darted down the hall and the sound of Peter’s amused chuckle followed me.

  I had no idea how long I’d lain staring up at the wooden slats of the bunk above me. Athena breathed softly in her sleep, a hypnotic, rhythmic sound that did nothing to aid my own sleep.

  At dinner I had hardly been able to concentrate on the meal in front of me, even though I’d been starving from burning so many calories on the slopes that day. I hadn’t been able to stop seeing Peter virtually naked with water droplets clinging to his skin.

  It made one thing perfectly clear—I was still completely, undeniably attracted to him. My pulse had raced all night and I hadn’t dared raise my eyes from my plate for fear of inadvertently locking eyes with him.

  I had disappeared off to bed early in the dim hope that I would be so exhausted I would slip into a dreamless sleep and not have to think any more about Peter and his naked body. Instead, I lay awake, my mind and my body a thrum of nervous energy. Athena had crept into the room around eleven, and settled into her bunk. And at almost two a.m., I was still waiting for sleep.

  After another few minutes, Athena’s rhythmic breathing turned into a guttural snore. There was no possible chance for me to fall asleep now. I climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the dark hall to the kitchen.

  Pale moonlight filtered into the room, the thick covering of snow illuminating the night. I made a cup of tea and raided the cupboards, looking for some biscuits or anything else I could snack on
.

  “For a burglar, you’re not very quiet.”

  I yelped in fright at the sound of Peter’s voice, and I spun around to face him, clutching my chest as my heart pounded. “What on earth are you doing, creeping up on people in the middle of the night?” Even in my fright, I couldn’t help but notice how good Peter looked in his pyjama bottoms and worn grey T-shirt.

  His clothes did nothing to help me forget about how good he looked beneath them.

  I tugged at the hem of my shorts, wishing I had worn more. I felt all sorts of exposed, especially given the pyjamas were just a little on the small side now and hugged my curves and showed off quite a lot of leg.

  He shrugged, seeming unperturbed at having just scared me senseless. “I heard someone raiding the kitchen. I thought it was either an intruder or some pest had broken in to eat all our food.” His lips twitched. “I can see the latter is right.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him when he turned around to open the fridge. He took out the milk and made himself a cup of tea from the freshly boiled kettle. Once it was made, Peter opened the cupboard next to the oven and pulled out a packet of chocolate Hobnobs.

  “You must be starving since you barely touched dinner,” Peter said as he left the kitchen, jerking his head to signal for me to follow him. He placed his drink and the biscuits on a coffee table in the great room, and sat down on one of the big comfy couches.

  The red lights of the eight-foot tall Christmas tree gave a beautiful ambiance to the room and I couldn’t believe Christmas was only a few days away.

  He had noticed I had only picked at my food? My belly dipped at the thought of him watching me…noticing me. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said as I sat at the opposite end of the couch.

  Peter shook his head. “I was awake anyway. Then I heard you tiptoeing around and decided I could use a drink. So what’s keeping you up?”

  You… “I’m not sure. Thinking about home, probably.” While this was an excuse, it was also completely true. Mummy had told me to go off and have fun with my friends for the holidays and they were going to Barbados anyway, but I couldn’t stop thinking that they were already one family member down this Christmas, and now I was missing too. Louisa would either love all the extra attention or would act like the ‘spirited’ girl we had all come to…mildly put up with.

  “Have you ever been away from your family at Christmas before?” Peter asked.

  “Once or twice,” I answered. “But I feel guilty this time because it’s the first Christmas since my father died.”

  Peter blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Freddie. Were you close?”

  I nodded. “Very.”

  He reached out and stroked the back of my hand. “Then this must be really hard for you. No wonder you’ve been quiet.”

  That, and I had been completely thrown off guard by the reappearance of Peter in my life.

  “Or have you just been completely distracted by all the trees around here and you’re busy trying to restrain yourself from climbing them?”

  I barked out a laugh. “No, of course not!” My lips twitched into a smile as I slid my eyes over him. “But at least I could climb them if I wanted to.”

  Peter laughed—I had forgotten how rich and inviting the sound was. “You know, it took weeks for my arm to heal. What are Mapleton Manor trees made out of, anyway?” He shook his head and chuckled quietly. “None of my friends believed me about the cool, tree-climbing chick I met that night. They think you’re a figment of my imagination.”

  I couldn’t help the smile that spread wider across my face. “Maybe you hit your head on the way down and I really am all in your head.”

  Peter’s hand that had been drawing lazy circles on the back of mine stilled. He threaded his fingers between mine and squeezed my hand gently. “You feel pretty real to me.”

  My pulse skyrocketed. What was he doing? What was I doing? God…this couldn’t be good for my health.

  “Is this okay?” Peter asked, nodding to our clasped hands.

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Tell me another mad story from when you were young.” Peter’s eyes were soft and encouraging and he gave me a warm smile at my startled expression.

  Whatever I had thought he would say next…that hadn’t been it. But I was grateful for the reprieve nonetheless.

  “Once, after a hurricane at my prep school, the cricket pitch completely flooded. One of the work staff put a shark fin in the middle of it so we would all think a real shark was swimming around,” I blurted out.

  Peter laughed. “Brilliant. What else?”

  “Um…I once I rescued a chameleon from a souk in Marrakesh. I smuggled him back home in my coat pocket.”

  He grinned. “Big animal lover then?”

  I nodded. “The biggest. We were allowed loads of pets at prep school, and I took my hamster, Butterscotch, to church with me in my pocket once. But he bit through the lining and ended up scurrying around in my hem. We don’t really have many pets at school now. Though there is a house rat called Templeton, but if anyone wants to take him out they have to use a lead because he’s so fast.”

  Peter stroked my hand again and shuffled closer to me on the couch. It was then, when I didn’t panic at his invasion of my personal space, that I realised what he had been doing. In encouraging me to talk he had put me at ease and I’d started to relax.

  “You lead a very interesting life, Freddie.”

  “It’s never dull, that’s for sure,” I said quietly.

  “Is it weird how much I like to hear your stories? I never know what to expect—you’re the exact opposite of predictable.” He dropped his gaze for a moment before lifting his eyes to mine again. “I’m glad we got things sorted out. You’re making this holiday one of the best ever for me.”

  “I am?” I asked quietly.

  Peter nodded. He brought his free hand up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking in featherlight sweeps across my cheekbone. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

  His words made my head swim. I wanted to drown in them.

  “I know what you said the other day, but I can’t help but feel that there is something more here. Don’t you feel it, too?” he asked in a low, throaty voice.

  “I—”

  Peter leaned in a fraction closer. His breath warmed my cheek, his scent flooding my senses. My eyelids fluttered closed as I waited…for what?

  The moment I imagined his lips landing on mine, I was assaulted by the image of Jemima in his arms—pressed against him, smiling at him, him smiling at her…the kiss they had to have shared when I’d looked away.

  I jumped to my feet, my momentum knocking Peter back against the couch. “Sorry,” I squeaked. “This isn’t— I don’t…” I sighed. “I’m going back to bed.” So I left Peter, and the untouched tea and biscuits, and hurried back to my room.

  If finding sleep had been hard before, it was flat-out impossible now.

  Come morning, I was tired, cranky, and not at all my usually upbeat and colourful self. Over breakfast, I kept my head down so I didn’t risk catching Peter’s eyes, and on the drive to the resort, I made sure to sit as far away from him as I could.

  I tried to appear cool and collected, but under the surface was simmering anger. How could someone be so at odds with the person they appeared to be? For all intents and purposes, Peter was my absolute dream boy. He was funny, smart, adventurous and absolutely gorgeous. Not to mention his number one quality—he was taller than I was.

  And the worst part was that he seemed really into me. If I hadn’t seen him with Jemima at the dance, I probably would never have realised he was a serial charmer, only interested in whatever girl was in front of him at the time.

  Sometime before dawn I had decided to ski with my friends again. But when we arrived at the resort and I looked up at the mountain, I steeled my resolve and vowed not to let a silly boy ruin my holiday. I loved skiing and I was bloody good at it. There was more than enough mountain to go around and
if I was careful I needn’t see him all day.

  Unlike the day before, where I had felt free and at peace whilst hurtling down the side of the mountain, today my thoughts kept me from truly feeling at ease. My mind was a whirling dervish that I couldn’t seem to calm.

  It hurt my concentration, and it came as no great surprise when I wiped out and ended up with a face full of snow. Huffing my annoyance at myself, Peter and the world in general, I unclipped my skis and shoved my mask up on top of my head.

  A spray of snow was kicked up as someone skidded to a stop beside me.

  “Are you okay? You came down pretty hard,” Peter said, out of breath.

  Peter…of course it’s bloody Peter. “I’m fine,” I said, rising to my feet.

  “Are you sure? It looked—”

  “I said I was fine, didn’t I?” I snapped. I cringed at the poison in my words. It was hardly ever that I bit someone’s head off, and I hated doing it. Even if they totally deserved it.

  Peter’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows drawing together. “Right, am I missing something here again? What have I done now?”

  “Nothing, just leave me alone,” I mumbled, staring at the snow as though it held the answers that I needed.

  “No,” Peter said. He sat down and unclipped his snowboard. “You don’t get to treat me like crap and avoid me without telling me what on earth is going through your head.”

  Guilt pinched in my chest. But why should I feel guilty? “Please, just leave me alone. And stay out of my way for the rest of the trip.”

  Peter huffed a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? What happened to clearing the air and being friends?”

  That was it—the final straw. “Because I don’t want to be friends with you!” Turning away from him, I stomped towards the treeline, hauling my skis along with me. It wasn’t easy to make a dramatic exit in full snow gear, but I thought I managed it just fine.