As they walked back into the ballroom, Anton took note of Annabelle’s much larger tiara. She looked much more relaxed in it than she had at the first public event after the wedding. He noted appreciatively how the green stones set off her red hair perfectly. Annabelle had changed a lot over the past few years. Why was he so resistant to the idea that Stella had changed?
Because it meant that he’d have to change too in order to keep her.
Anton looked around the room as the guests slowly filtered in. He tugged at his lower lip as he puzzled over what Helena had told him. If it hadn’t been Stella, who could it have been?
His eyes landed on Marcella who’d just walked in with her parents. He headed towards her to ask her about something for his show then stopped in his tracks. He’d brushed off the idea in the heat of the moment when Stella had suggested it, but Marcella had sent some people to his studio to pick up some pieces. Had one of them taken the pictures? Did she know about it?
He started towards her again with a firmer step. One way or another, he’d figure out what to do about Stella tonight. He’d made the biggest mistake in his life with her, but was it for trusting her, or for not trusting her?
Chapter 19
Stella tried to put on a happy face and play the part of happy bridesmaid, and she was pretty sure she was succeeding. Having Alix’s cousin Yannick there was certainly helping keep her mind off of Anton.
It was a great party despite the disaster of a week leading up to it. Helena had been a lifesaver in more ways than one. When Stella had begged out of the final preparations, knowing that Anton would be there, Helena stepped in without hesitation. She’d believed her right away, too, about the pictures. It was incredibly frustrating how quickly she believed her when she knew just as much about her reputation as Anton did. But Helena was a lot more trusting.
And Alix had been right to trust her, too. The main ballroom looked stunning with the long tables in champagne and chocolate-colored cloths reflecting beautifully in the chandeliers and mirrors. The muted colors made Alix’s deep red dress stand out even more, and she looked incredible tonight.
Stella resisted the urge to tug at the long sleeves of her own dress, a lighter blue and more conservative cut than she was used to. But, she thought with a frown, she wasn’t trying to get anyone’s attention tonight. Yannick didn’t seem to mind, however, and she could see his eyes linger more than once on her comparably modest cleavage.
He was funnier than she remembered him being at New Year’s, now that he wasn’t trying to tell jokes in the middle of a ballet. His dark blond hair was long and wavy, very different than the rest of his family. Stella had met most of them over the years during her trips to New York to see Alix and it gave her and Yannick something to talk about without the buffer of Alix there. Stella realized he only seemed louder because of his American accent that, she had to admit, she found pretty sexy. He knew only a few words in Prynessian, and she politely hid her smile at his attempts to pronounce them correctly.
She also politely tried her best not to let her gaze wander over to Anton too often. Marcella was here, though she didn’t know why. Then she remembered that they’d gotten a few pieces for the tables from one of her family’s galleries. Stella tried to ignore the way Marcella’s hand would caress Anton’s arm when she talked to him. The smiles he gave her sent alternating pangs of sadness and anger through her.
The cocktail hour was followed by a more formal dinner, and she was glad now that protocol required only the immediate family at the table with the couple. As much as she wanted to be with Alix on her big day, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go the whole evening without tears if faced with an entire meal at the same table as Anton. She’d be over it by the wedding, right? Maybe Yannick could help her forget.
He was certainly more interesting than he had been at the ballet, and he was almost unbearably handsome in his dark tux. But Stella simply couldn’t find the will to feel anything for him quite yet. Her hurt was still too raw.
The few times that she glanced at the head table, Anton’s eyes were on her. It happened more than once, so it couldn’t have been chance. She tried not to think about what it meant or analyze his looks. She put on her dancer’s smile and pretended like nothing in the world could bother her.
“Would you like to dance?” asked Yannick once dinner was over and the music started to get a bit louder and faster.
Stella shot a quick glance at Anton despite herself. He was still staring at her, his expression unreadable. He looked almost sad. A part of her ached to go to him. Despite everything, she didn’t like to see him unhappy.
She turned to Yannick and smiled, vowing yet again to put Anton out of her mind for the rest of the evening. She couldn’t escape being here, but she could at least try to have a good time.
Yannick was a surprisingly good dancer. As he twirled her around, she let out a laugh. How long had it been since she’d danced with a man? Sweaty, pre-hookup dancing in clubs with Anton couldn’t compare to a public, attention-grabbing foxtrot. She felt her mood pick up a bit, her smiles coming more naturally.
She looked over at Alix, the perfect, beaming bride-to-be. Duncan was looking at her with so much love in his eyes that Stella had to turn away. Her gaze fell for the hundredth time on Anton who was now leading Marcella out of the room with a firm grip on her arm. Stella knew that grip so well and sucked in a breath at the thought of how much she missed it on her own body.
She turned her sad eyes back to Yannick who was observing her carefully.
“Have we stayed long enough for what’s required of the maid of honor?” he said, a small smile on his lips. “Would you like to get out of here? Go somewhere more fun?”
Stella hesitated for only the briefest of moments before nodding. She might not feel a rush of anything towards him, but he was more than acceptable. He might even be fun. She’d let herself try to forget Anton in the same way he was clearly trying to forget about her.
He’d been a complete and total idiot.
As much as Anton didn’t want to admit it, Helena was probably right. It had to have been Marcella. She’d had the opportunity, and she had quite a bit to gain from more exposure of his work.
He’d been so wrapped up in his own pain and irritation that he’d never stopped to consider any other alternative to what he’d wanted to believe: that Stella couldn’t be trusted. Now, faced with the reality that he’d been the one to betray her trust in him, everything he’d said to her came rushing back to him in a tangle of guilt and anger.
He walked around the ballroom slowly as it started to fill with guests, keeping his hands in his pockets and his face smooth and calm. He smiled widely at everyone who greeted him, no one suspecting anything was amiss. Well, almost no one.
“Are you alright, Anton?” Duncan whispered to him as he stood next to him for several rounds of official pictures. “You look like you’re going to smash something.”
That’s not a terrible idea. Anton shook his head.
He noticed Marcella walking into the ballroom with her parents. He wanted to go over and shake the answers out of her, but years of practice kept him smiling at Duncan’s side. Inside, he was seething.
A wave of jealously overtook his anger when Stella walked in with a man, but he pushed it down and turned away from them. One problem at a time. He made his way over to Marcella and her parents.
“Thank you for inviting us,” she said with a demure smile that didn’t match her outfit. Her low cut dress was in a mildly inappropriate red that played up her complexion spectacularly. The fact that he noticed pissed him off even more.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. His anger bubbled beneath the surface, threatening to break free at any moment. “It’s thanks to your family that we have such lovely pieces here tonight.”
He made small talk for a few more minutes with her parents before they wandered off to greet Duncan and Alix.
He looked around the room, his lips pursing when his
eyes fell on Stella and her date.
“I wonder who that is with Stella,” she said, following his gaze. “It’s the same man I saw her with on New Year’s Eve at the ballet.”
He narrowed his eyes and excused himself, not caring how rude he was being to her. He needed to calm down before he really did smash something. Or someone.
He found Helena talking to several older countesses about her next charity event. He nodded and participated as much as he could while counting the seconds until he could ask her for a name. Finally, the women left and he has his answer.
Yannick. Alix’s American cousin.
He rolled his eyes. He’d known so many idiotic Prynessian Yannicks that he was sure American ones were the same.
The evening dragged on with more fake smiling while Marcella flirted with him and an endless parade of nobles sought his attention. Sitting down for dinner was a relief until he realized that he had a direct line view of Stella at her table. He tried not to glance over too often, but knew he was failing spectacularly.
Helena nudged him more than once and hissed that he was looking a little too depressed for such a festive occasion.
“Just go talk to her if you’re going to be grumpy all evening,” she scolded him.
He stood up, ready to do just that, but then saw Stella’s date extending a hand as the music shifted into a popular dance track. The urge to smash was back again. He turned on his heels and sought out Marcella instead. Helena hadn’t defined which ‘her’ he was supposed to talk to.
Rather than question her in front of everyone and risk a scene, he led her out into the hallway to the same small side chamber that Helena had used earlier to talk some sense in him. The look of excitement on Marcella’s face made him see red.
“You were the ones who sent the pictures to the press.” It wasn’t a question.
“We had to get a good buzz going for your show,” she said, without a trace of shame or guilt. “The last one didn’t do as well as the gallery had hoped. We barely sold anything.”
He stared at her.
“I don’t do it for the money.”
“Well we do.” She frowned and crossed her arms. “You’re just not drawing the attention you used to a few years ago. Your work has gotten so emotional. It’s not as exciting as it once was.”
“So on top of violating my privacy, you’re insulting me?” he growled.
She rolled her eyes.
“Stop being so dramatic. This will do amazing things for your career.”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His career. She was only thinking of his career. And hers, of course. His focus on his career was the whole reason he’d never wanted anything serious with Stella to begin with.
When art was his life, sharing it with the world was hard enough. Sharing it with someone else was terrifying. Stella had seemed to understand that at first.
“I was just trying to help you,” Marcella said softly. He opened his eyes and looked down at her hand on his arm. She quickly removed it.
“You were trying to help yourself.” She shrank a little beneath his glare.
“I didn’t realize how upset you’d be. Our contract allows for photographs of all the works.”
“Yes, but you usually do that at the gallery.”
She sighed.
“When we came to pick them up, the light was so good, and the way it was set up in the studio was kind of perfect. I grabbed a few shots with my phone and my dad thought that an ‘insider’ look would work better than taking formal ones at the gallery. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I see that it was. I’m really sorry, Anton.”
Her brow furrowed as she bit her lip, her earlier bravado gone. While she was clearly worried about making money for the gallery and her family, she did seem genuinely sorry to have upset him. Anton was still royally pissed, but knew maintaining a good relationship with the gallery was critical.
“In the future, we’ll need to be clearer with those details,” he said finally, clearing his throat.
“Of course, Your Highness,” she tilted her head, the gesture appeasing Anton somewhat.
He nodded once, and she left the small room. He realized how it would look if they came out together, so he hung back, biding his time. One problem settled. Now, how might he be able to make it up to Stella? He’d start by asking her to dance.
When he finally got back out into the ballroom, however, she was gone. So was Yannick. He saw red for the second time that night.
He’d need to think of a better plan. And he’d be damned if he asked Helena for any more help. He’d figure it out on his own.
Chapter 20
While it wasn’t the perfect plan, it was a start. He made his way to the Van Der Ness apartment holding the invitation in his hand. He hoped it would be enough to get the conversation started. Or at least, get him in the door.
When the butler let him in, however, he was surprised to see Alix come down the long hallway to greet him. His smile faltered.
“Stella’s out getting some food,” she answered his silent question. “I didn’t want to deal with being out in public right now. There have been enough photos over the past few days to last me a lifetime.”
She was smiling, but there was sadness behind it. He suddenly realized she would soon be his sister and felt an instant protectiveness for her.
“This life isn’t easy,” he said. “But you and Duncan seem to have found a way to make it your own,”
“Thank you,” she said. “You and Stella will too, eventually. I assume you’re here to apologize?”
He felt his face grow hot. He nodded.
“I wanted to invite her to the opening of my show next week.” He held out the dark green envelope as proof of his mission.
She tilted her head and frowned slightly.
“Let’s put it in her room.” She led the way down the hall, looking as comfortable as if it were her own home. Anton felt unusually out of place. He’d had only a few glimpses of it, always at night. And he had been at least a little drunk on either alcohol or his desire for Stella, so he hadn’t been in the right state of mind to be taking in the architecture. Now, he took the time to admire the original features of the grand 19th-century building. Every single wall was covered in paintings. She’d grown up surrounded by beauty.
They walked into Stella’s room. There were stacks of empty boxes piled in a corner and a mound of clothes on the bed, sorted into piles.
“What’s going on?” He tried to keep his voice even.
“Stella’s moving out,” Alix said. “You were wrong about a lot of things, but you were right about that. It’s time.”
“Where’s she going?” A note of panic slipped in. With her skills and her father’s connections, she could go anywhere in the world.
Alix didn’t answer right away, watching Anton’s face with interest.
“I shouldn’t tell you,” she said with a playful smile. “But you did come to apologize so…”
“Alix, please. I already have one annoying sister. I was hoping you’d finally be a nice one.”
Alix laughed.
“What about poor Annabelle?”
He shrugged.
“No time to see her between the baby and everything she does as queen.”
Alix nodded. Anton waited another minute then cleared his throat.
“Ah, yes,” she said, traces of a smile still playing on her lips. “Stella’s just moving to one of her dad’s properties downtown. Closer to work.”
And me. Anton was flooded by hope. He smiled widely but didn’t say anything. He held out the invitation.
“Could you give this to her please? I don’t think she’s quite ready to see me yet.”
Alix raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll put it with the others.”
“Others?”
Alix moved to a tall dresser along one wall. She opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of brightly colored papers.
“She always asked Helena for
an invitation whenever you had a show. She wanted to go to all of them, but knew it wasn’t her place. She thought you didn’t want her there.”
He frowned. He had thought that she was the one who didn’t want to go. How many ways will I end up feeling like an idiot this week?
“Well, I want her there now.”
Alix nodded and took the envelope. She didn’t say anything else and he stood there a moment longer, a bit awkwardly, before turning to leave.
As he made his way out, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. She had every single invitation and hadn’t thrown them out. Even his parents didn’t keep all of them. He was hopeful that maybe she hadn’t given up on him quite yet. With a little luck, she’d actually come. He’d have a final chance to win her back for good.
When Stella returned with food for her and Alix, she barely noticed the dark green envelope sitting on the counter. She assumed it was something for her parents. Who would be inviting her to anything so formally?
At first, Alix had only said that Anton had dropped it off personally. But Stella could see in the way she bit her lip that there was more to it.
“Out with it!” she said. “I’m not going to shatter if you talk about him.”
“He’s the one that looks shattered, Stella. I think he realized the mistake he made.”
Stella said nothing and started taking out silverware and plates, setting them on the counter. Her parents were out at a function, and she thought it would be a little silly to use the formal dining room just for the two of them. She was tempted to go eat in her room, which wasn’t really allowed. She knew Jean-Michel wouldn’t tell her parents, but she felt bad making him lie for her now that she was an adult.
It was definitely time to move out.
A Royal Decision Page 9
