As she boldly presented herself to the prince, holding out her hand, I worried that Mal’s potion had given my sister too much confidence. I held my breath, wondering how Prince Florian would react and feared that Amy might be publicly humiliated if he snubbed her. I was preparing to rush to her side when the prince grinned and, with a gallant bow, accepted Amy’s hand.
The crowd fell back as the prince led my little sister onto the dance floor. No matter how I felt about the heir to the throne, I could not help experiencing a rush of pride. I was beaming as I turned to Crushington.
When Horatio smiled back at me, the discovery of Harper’s duplicity seemed of little importance. He offered me his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”
“Indeed we shall,” I said. I rested my hand through his arm and we moved to take our place among the other couples forming sets. We had scarce taken two steps when Prince Ryland blocked our path.
The prince accorded me a stiff bow. “Miss, will you grant me the honor of this dance?”
“Why, I—I—” I stammered. I thought I had recovered from the shock of seeing Harper but once again, I felt as though I had been punched, the breath driven from my body.
After our initial encounter, I had supposed he would ignore me for the rest of the evening. His request to dance with me took me completely aback. I did not know how to respond. I expected Horatio to inform the prince that my hand had been claimed.
But the commander drew away from me. When I looked up at him, he regarded me gravely and I realized Horatio was leaving the choice to me. As I glanced helplessly between the two men, Ryland decided the issue by taking my hand and leading me away.
I should have pulled away from him and returned to Horatio, but I allowed the prince to guide me onto the dance floor.
Chapter 14
My stepmother had promised me that attending the ball would be like a dream come true. It felt more like a nightmare in which a spell had been cast over my handsome, charming Harper transforming him into this stiff, unsmiling prince. As we moved through the opening steps of the dance, I stole glances up at him, trying to find some trace of the warm gentle lover I had once known.
There was none because I had not known the real Harper at all. He did not even exist. There was only Prince Ryland, a man who looked wearied of the world and everything in it, including me. The royal gallop was supposed to be a lively dance in which young men often lifted their partners and spun them about exuberantly.
Ryland behaved as a bored older courtier would do, resting one hand lightly upon my waist to guide me in a circle. It was as though he could not bear to touch me, even with those thick ornate gloves he wore. He went through the motions with me in complete silence, avoiding my gaze until I wondered why he had bothered asking me to dance at all.
I was so miserable I could hardly bear it, but somewhere in the ashes he had made of my heart, I could feel the embers of anger begin to burn. As we circled again, I said loudly, “What? What was that you said, Your Highness? I’m afraid I could not hear you above the music.”
“I have not said anything,” he replied, staring straight ahead.
“So I have noticed.”
He winced a little at my tart rebuke. Although it appeared to cost him great effort, he asked, “Are you enjoying the ball?”
“No, I am sorry to say I am not. I have just realized I am not appropriately dressed.”
My remark startled him into flicking an unwilling glance at me. “But you look quite—quite—beautiful,” he concluded weakly.
“Thank you, Your Highness, but I wish someone had warned me this was to be a masquerade.”
“But it is not.”
“Truly?” I feigned astonishment as we clasped hands, stepped together and then back again. “But your costume is so perfect. A bard disguising himself as a prince. Or am I merely confused, thinking of something that happened long ago, a prince masquerading as a bard.”
I had the satisfaction of seeing his rigid composure crack. “Ella…”
“Oh, so you do remember who I am.”
“Of course I do,” he burst out. “How could you believe I would ever forget you?”
“Very easily, because that is exactly what you did.”
“Never! I—” He stumbled, nearly treading on the hem of my gown. As he regained his footing in the dance, he struggled to regain command of himself as well. I thought he meant to lapse back into his morose silence, but after a moment, he said, “How have you been?”
Seriously? He had the gall to ask me that? I glared at him, torn between the urge to blister him with reproaches and the equally strong desire to appear icily indifferent.
“Wonderful,” I said, baring my teeth in a smile. “Just wonderful.”
“Good.” He ventured a tentative smile in return. “You appear in excellent health.”
“Oh, I am. Well enough except—”
“Except for what?”
“I don’t seem to have ever recovered from the chill I took the night I spent on a hillside. All alone in the dark, waiting and waiting for someone who never came, who never sent one word of apology or explanation, who made me believe he loved me and then just abandoned me.”
So much for icy indifference. I checked myself before my voice rose loud enough to attract the attention of the other dancers. I became aware that Harper and I—I mean, the prince and I were already drawing some curious looks.
Ryland only made matters worse when he came to an abrupt halt, clasping my hand. “Ella, I never wanted to hurt you. I could never make you understand how sorry I am.”
“You never even tried! You couldn’t even be bothered to send me a note. You just disappeared. You could have been dead for all I knew. Then I started hearing these rumors about a minstrel traveling through other kingdoms seducing young maidens with his beautiful voice.”
“That was not me, Ella.”
“Oh no, of course it wasn’t. I forgot. You are Ryland, the brave questing prince. You have spent the last seven years slaying dragons.” I sneered. “Dragons! What a load of frap! The only thing you have been assailing are the hearts of other gullible, trusting fools like me.”
“That is not true. There has never been anyone but you. I have not even touched my lute since I last saw you. When I had to leave you, all the music died.”
I gave an outraged gasp. How dare he claim that? How dare this perfidious prince stand there looking at me with Harper’s eyes, all sad and sincere?
I wrenched away from him. In another moment, I was either going to burst into tears or punch him. Considering it was now a crime to faint in front of a prince, I could not imagine how severe the punishment would be for giving one a bloody nose.
Ignoring the startled looks of the other dancers, I fought my way across the floor, treading on toes and blundering into people. I realized I was drawing the exact kind of attention I had wanted to avoid, not good for someone who later hoped to slip away unnoticed to plunder the king’s treasury. I didn’t care. I rushed onward, seeking any avenue of escape.
I found it in a set of imposing glass-paned double doors that led out onto a small balcony. I hurled myself through them, grateful to find the refuge deserted. I pulled the door firmly closed behind me, shutting out the noisy hum of voices and music emanating from the ballroom. Annoyed to discover that I was trembling, I rested my hands on the stone balustrade. I drew in deep breaths of the warm night air, seeking to calm myself.
The balcony overlooked the rear gardens of the palace, and I would have found the lush floral arrangements and the burbling fountains soothing to my turbulent emotions. But several of the palace guards prowled the moonlit paths with those eerie aura beasts straining at their leashes.
I wondered if they were still searching for Delphine and hoped that she was far away from there by now, more for my sake than hers. I dreaded the thought that she might yet find a way inside the castle and appear at my side to hiss more threats.
When someone crept up behind me to rest a
hand on my shoulder, I nearly leapt over the balustrade. My heart hammering, I whirled around, only to discover that Ryland had been foolish enough to follow me.
“Ella, are you all right?” he asked me in that tender tone I remembered all too well.
Was I all right? I wanted to shriek. Did this man have no sense of self-preservation? Obviously, he did not if he had spent the last seven years hunting dragons.
“Go away.” I shrugged his hand off my shoulder.
He regarded me mournfully. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You managed perfectly well seven years ago.”
“And you will never know how much I regretted that, how strong I had to be to abandon you. It was like cutting out my own heart. I—oh, Ella!” He gave an agonized groan.
Before I could prevent him, he wrapped his arm about my waist and kissed me. I went rigid with shock, but his embrace stirred far too many bittersweet memories and longings in me. Harper’s kisses had always been wonderful, as warm and tender as the ballads he composed. I could not help it. I threaded my fingers through his hair, melting into his embrace until a familiar deep voice brought me back to my senses.
“Ella?”
I broke off the kiss, horrified to realize that Horatio had come in search of me. I thrust Prince Ryland away from me, but it was already too late. Horatio froze in the open doorway, a myriad of emotions playing across his face, shock, hurt, disappointment. My cheeks flamed and I foolishly pressed my hand to my mouth as though I could somehow hide that kiss. Ryland looked equally embarrassed and disconcerted.
Horatio recovered, masking his emotions beneath his usual grave expression. “Miss Upton, forgive me. I saw you rush from the ballroom and I thought that you were…that you might need…and well, obviously I was wrong.
“I do beg your pardon for the intrusion. Miss Upton. Your Highness.” He snapped off a rigid bow to each of us. Before I could get a word out, Horatio pivoted on his heel and was gone.
I took a step forward, my first impulse to rush after him and explain, but I had no idea what I would say. How could I make Horatio comprehend the madness that had just come over me when I did not understand it myself? I cringed when I imagined what Horatio must be thinking of me—that after declaring I had no interest in becoming a royal bride, I was fickle and shallow, as ready to chase after a prince as any of those other silly girls in the village.
There was a time when I would not have cared what Commander Crushington thought of me. Now I was stunned to realize how much his good opinion mattered. It mattered very much indeed.
I rounded on Prince Ryland. “You stupid, frapping idiot!” I growled although I was not sure whom I was more furious with, the prince or myself.
Ryland winced. “I know. I am sorry, Ella. But that man—he is the commander of Midtown garrison?”
“Yes, Commander Horatio Crushington.”
“And he is a particular friend of yours?” Ryland asked hesitantly.
“That is no concern of yours.”
“No, of course not. But is he a man of discretion? Will he be likely to relate to others what he saw?”
I shot Ryland a look of utter disgust. “Horatio Crushington is a man of complete integrity, nobility and gallantry, traits you could not begin to understand. So the answer is no. He would never stoop to spreading idle gossip.” I added with scorn, “Your reputation is quite safe, Your Royal Highness.”
Ryland flushed. “I am more worried about yours, Ella. I always swore that if I ever saw you again, I could contain myself. What a foolish delusion that was. One look into your eyes, one whisper of your voice and—” He raked his hand back through his hair and groaned. “Oh, why did you have to come here tonight?”
“You could have just ignored me. Why did you have to ask me to dance?”
“Why did you accept?”
“What choice did I have? How does one refuse a request from a prince?”
“The Ella I knew would have had no trouble doing so.”
“The Ella you knew is dead!”
We were both becoming more agitated, fairly shouting at each other until we ran the danger of our voices carrying back to the ballroom. I turned away from him. Bracing my hands on the balustrade, I continued in a constrained tone, “That Ella perished long ago on a dark windy hillside waiting for a lover who never came. Do you have any idea what that night’s folly cost me? When my father discovered the note I had left, saying I had run off with you, he fell down in a fit, paralyzed from the shock. He never recovered. A week later he was dead.”
My throat constricted. “I killed my own father and for what? My infatuation with a worthless wretch like you.”
Ryland joined me at the balustrade. He started to place his gloved hand over mine, but wisely thought better of it. “I heard about what happened to your father. I was so sorry.”
“And still you did not have the decency to send me one word of apology or explanation!”
“I convinced myself it was better for you if I did not, far better that you just forget me and learn to hate me. But I am such a weak man. Now that I see how much you despise me, I find it unbearable.”
“You flatter yourself. One has to care enough to hate and I do not. I might think you are a miserable sniveling, lying little slug worm, but I certainly don’t hate you.”
My words provoked a reluctant sad smile from him. “Perhaps I was wrong. I should have tried to explain my callous behavior. If I may—”
“You may not. You are years too late and I don’t want to hear it.” I locked my arms across my bosom and stared haughtily into the distance. I ruined the entire effect by adding, “What excuse could you possibly have to offer?”
“To begin with, you must understand that I never meant to hurt you.”
“Thank the fairies for that,” I said. “I cannot imagine how devastated I would have been if you had actually intended me harm.”
“That summer I met you, all I was seeking was a brief escape from this castle. I have no words to tell you how miserable my existence here had become.”
“Oh, poor little prince! Forced to live in a palace with all the luxuries you could desire while so many people in this kingdom are grateful for a crust of stale bread and to be spared being driven into exile merely for the crime of being poor.”
He flinched but continued, “I believe you are wise enough to understand, Ella, that there are many kinds of prisons and no matter how luxurious, a cage is still a cage. From the time I was a small child, music has been the great passion and consolation of my life, especially after my mother died. My only happiness came during those hours I practiced my lute and even dared to compose my own songs.
“But my love of music was scorned by my father and my brothers, especially Florian. Lute playing is not deemed manly enough for a prince of the royal house of Helavalerian. I was ordered to forget my music and spend more time practicing with my sword and lance. I had to hide my lute to prevent it from being destroyed. Florian would have been too happy to do so. He mocked my musical abilities, said it was a good thing that I was not obliged to make my living as a minstrel. I would either starve or be stoned to death for inflicting such an assault upon people’s ears.”
Ryland sighed. “I knew I could not defy my father forever and Florian had shaken my confidence in my music. When I disguised myself as Harper and stole into town that day, all I was seeking was an audience. I needed to know if Florian was right or if I did possess the ability to share the magic of all those notes that played in my head, if somehow I could touch other hearts, even just a little, with what beat so strong in mine.”
“You could. You touched mine,” I admitted before I could stop myself. I amended, “That is—you were very good. I enjoyed your performance. So did everyone else in the village square that day.”
“I didn’t care about everyone else. From the moment I looked across that square and your eyes met mine, I played for you alone. I wanted to spend the rest of my days singing only for you.”
>
“Stop! Just stop!” I flung up one hand to fend off those protestations that I found both false and painful.
Ryland ignored me and rushed on, “I loved you so much, Ella, enough to cherish this romantic dream that we could just run away and share a life together. But word carried back to my father about me sneaking out of the palace to woo some Midtown girl. I was warned in no uncertain terms to stay away from you, that there would be dire consequences if the king ever discovered your identity. My father would never tolerate one of his sons marrying a commoner—”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Do you mean the same father who is giving this lavish ball so that his son and heir to the kingdom might select a bride from among any of his subjects?”
Ryland bent closer to me, speaking in low and urgent tones. “You are surely far too clever to believe that nonsense, Ella. You must see this ball for the sham that it is. My father would never permit his beloved heir to marry anyone less than a wealthy princess and may the fairies help whatever poor woman ends up with my brother as her bridegroom. There is so much that you do not know about Florian, Ella. He—”
“Ah, brother, there you are.” The silky voice cut Ryland off in mid-sentence. We sprang apart as we were joined by the very man he had warned me against.
Ryland paled although there was nothing alarming in Prince Florian’s aspect. I could not tell how much he might have overheard of what Ryland had been saying, but Florian’s smile was affable, almost tender, as he regarded his younger brother.
“Father wondered where you had gone and sent me to find you and check if you were all right.”
“You have done so and you can see I am fine,” Ryland said. “So you can go report back to Father and leave me alone.”
“My dear brother—”
“I am not your dear brother,” Ryland growled.
Florian heaved a pained sigh. “Father and I both hoped you would endeavor to enjoy yourself this evening and not hide away as you usually do. You need to mingle with our guests, and no matter how bewitching this young lady is”—Florian directed a smile toward me—“you should not be keeping her out here on this drafty balcony when I am sure she would rather be dancing.”
Disenchanted Page 23
