Fancytales: The Once Upon A Time Collection

by Leighann Dobbs

  “Go away, Henry!” Helena ordered. “This is a private conversation between myself and the prince and if you are too lack-witted to understand what private means, it means you were not invited!”

  To further expound upon the utter seriousness of her bequest, she tossed a plumply stuffed pillow at his head, which he neatly sidestepped. With an unrepentant grin, he saluted Simon and spun about on his heels, disappearing into the front parlor where her father waited with her mum and younger brother Andrew to celebrate her betrothal to the prince – if Helena ever managed to calm down enough to see reason, that was.

  “Did your brother speak true, Helena? You wish to marry another?”

  “If I say yes, will you go away and leave me be?” Too late, Helena realized her response had come so fast he was sure to see the truth in it – her heart was not otherwise engaged.

  She groaned, wishing for nothing so much as to sink through the chaise and bury herself somewhere far away from him and his absurd notion to make her a princess. His princess...

  Simeon chuckled. “No. But I will ask that you at least give me a chance to prove myself, Helena. Allow me to show you that you will never have reason to regret becoming my bride.”

  Skeptical but shrewd enough to realize his offer was the best she was like to get at the moment, Helena peered at him from beneath her lashes. “How much of a chance?”

  “I would ask for a month-”

  “A fortnight. No more,” she interrupted. Two weeks were at least one and a half too many for her, she thought, but it was a short enough space of time for her to convince him she would not make a very good princess. Surely Merry would forgive her a mere couple of weeks in his life once she was free to win the prince for herself.

  “Very well, a fortnight,” he accepted. “Two weeks' time during which you must promise to make yourself available when I call and to sincerely consider my worth as a husband. Will you agree to this?”

  Knowing she had been defeated for the moment, Helena grudgingly agreed.

  Chapter Three

  Three days later, Helena was still upset about the sudden news of her betrothal to the prince but had resigned herself to the fact that, for the next eleven days, at least, she would be required to spend a bit of her time with him.

  Today, she had been both surprised and most delighted to discover Simeon did not think it silly for a woman to enjoy reading. He had invited her and her brothers for a trip into the city where she had convinced Andrew and Henry to purchase ices for the four of them and he, in turn, had surprised her with a visit to the bookseller.

  Now, home again from what had turned out to be a rather enjoyable outing, Helena's delight still had not diminished. Shrugging out of her wrap, she said, “Thank you for bringing me along today, Simeon. I've a rather unhealthy love of the printed word, or so my family believe, but there are so very many things to learn, to experience through the words upon the page that-”

  Simeon's amused chuckle cut her off. “Had I known a trip to the bookseller would be the swiftest route to winning your favor, Helena, I would have saved myself the trouble of attending the Langstons's ball last eve.”

  Helena scoffed. He had attended and she had danced with him – another waltz which left her feeling giddy (or was it his touch that had made her feel all warm and tingly?) – but she was far from convinced he would make a suitable husband.

  “You have yet to win my favor, Your Arrogance, but I do appreciate the gesture.” Straining up onto her tiptoes, Helena pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Standing down, she hugged the leather-bound treasure she had chosen during their outing to her chest. “I must remember to have Elsie top up the lamps in my chamber before-”

  He caught her chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting her face upward so she was forced to look directly into his eyes, eyes which now seemed to burn into hers. Helena's breath hitched at the swirl of reaction she saw in his gaze, cutting off her words.

  “If that is the best you can do at kissing, Helena, there is little wonder your illusive Lord Baldwin has escaped your pursuit.” Shaking his head in apparent disappointment at her lack of carnal skill, Simeon released her chin and turned her toward the dining room where he was supposed to share dinner with her and her family.

  Everyone else had gone straight through, to give them a moment of privacy, Helena supposed, but at the moment she wished Henry or Andrew had remained close.

  Was it possible to feel excited and deflated at once? At the moment, Helena believed she certainly could. The thought of receiving her first real kiss from him was thrilling, but his obvious disappointment in her abilities stung.

  “Soon, I shall be the one to kiss you, and you will learn the difference between the girlish peck of a child and the sort of kiss a man truly desires to receive from his woman.”

  Suddenly feeling more embarrassed and more than a bit hurt by his belittlement of her token gesture of genuine gratitude than she could manage, Helena did the only thing she could think to do at the moment to restore her unusually chaotic emotional equilibrium. She drew back her hand and the flat of her palm connected sharply with the smooth skin of his cheek.

  Simeon drew up abruptly, his brows dropping low and his eyes darkened, narrowing in a fierce scowl. But before he could catch her to him and retaliate or call her to task for her unseemly behavior, Helena spun away and dashed quickly up the stairs, the book she had purchased during their outing still clutched tight in her hand.

  Upstairs, Helena made certain her bedchamber door was securely locked against intrusion and then leaned against it, breathless and fuming and feeling strangely close to tears.

  How dare he! How dare he chastise her for her lack of demonstrated skill – with an activity in which she was dutifully expected to have no skill, at that? Had he truly wanted her to maul him with some impassioned gesture of sentiment whist her entire family awaited in the next room? Good heavens!

  If so, the man's expectations were deplorable! That he was thoughtful and insightful (he had taken her to the bookseller when no one else would, after all) held no bearing on their supposed relationship whatsoever when his behavior revealed precisely how arrogant, pompous, and altogether unreasonable he was.

  Leaning her head back against the thick panel of her door, Helena closed her eyes and shook her head, suddenly angry that she had even enjoyed the afternoon in his company. And she had enjoyed it, right up until he had spoiled it all with his quip about the chasteness of her kiss. How was she supposed to know what a man desired? How dare he upbraid her for her innocence?

  She was glad she must only endure his company another ten days after today. Soon, he would return home to Kozla and she would be free to go on with her life.

  After several long seconds passed during which no one came bounding up the stairs to retrieve her from the sanctuary of her room, Helena moved away from the door to the bed where she hurriedly cast off her shoes and stockings.

  Supper would be over soon, and he would be gone. Until then, she would read, she decided, and promptly settled against a stack of plump, downy pillows – only to be snatched back to awareness several moments later by the thumping of the unread book as it fell against her up-drawn knees.

  Dragged from her mental reverie which, to her dismay, had centered upon herself scandalously entwined in the prince's arms while she stared breathlessly up at him in expectant wonderment, curious and excitedly awaiting the seductive promise of his kiss, Helena wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him.

  Still, her pride would not let her forget his earlier hurtful words. He had wrongfully condemned her as an innocent, yet had she previously acquired the knowledge he had insisted she would soon learn, would he not then have found her immoral?

  “Helena?” Her name rang out in the silence, followed belatedly by a fist thumping at her door.

  Andrew. Helena tensed, but said nothing.

  “Prince Simeon says to tell you he had to leave unexpectedly but that he will call tomorrow to
escort you to the theater.”

  Relieved the prince himself hadn't come up to fetch her down for dinner, she called back a question. “Drury Lane?”

  “Of course, Drury Lane!” Andrew affirmed, and Helena sat up, thoughts beginning to trip swiftly through her head.

  Tomorrow marked the first theatrical act of the season and everyone who was anyone would be there. That meant Lord Baldwin was sure to be in attendance!

  Scrambling from the bed, she raced to her armoire and flung open the door, only to frown at the contents in dismay. What would she wear? Something attractive, naturally, but not too demure like the other debutantes, she thought. She must take care to dress with much more sophistication and in such a way as to stand out from the crowd if she were to snare and hold Evan's attention.

  Helena went through gown after gown until she finally settled upon one of midnight blue shot through with silver threads at the bodice, sleeves, and hem, certain it was the only one with which she could impress Lord Baldwin.

  But when she imagined the moment she would remove her cloak for all to see before the play began, it was Simeon's brilliant, fiery gaze she saw, alight and glowing with pleasure at her sophisticated, womanly appearance.

  Frowning, she dashed the image from her mind.

  Simeon had no right to claim a space in her thoughts, blast him! Just as she had no business imagining herself in his arms, giddy over his approval, breathlessly awaiting the warm touch of his lips against her own...and yet, she did exactly that.

  Chapter Four

  Simeon stood staring out the window overlooking the small garden park the previous owner of his townhouse had created, berating himself yet again for his misstep with Helena this afternoon after her spontaneous kiss.

  It was the second she had given him since their introduction as children years ago. The first had been given out of pity and an attempt to soothe the hurt her friend had caused and this one had been given out of happiness and sincere gratitude

  But they were no longer children and, despite knowing he should move slowly with his most reluctant princess if he hoped to win her favor within the few days before their departure, Simeon had wished to feel her passion.

  In truth, he had thought only to tease her a bit about her harmless, platonic little peck of a kiss while also preparing her for the inevitable – soon he would kiss her and his kisses would be neither harmless nor passionless. Indeed, he expected their first real kiss as adults would be quite explosive and could hardly wait for the experience.

  He would go slowly with her, he imagined, taking time to explore every curve and dip of her gloriously bowed lips. He would savor the taste of her, imprint his memory with the feel of her body against his own while he ignited her heretofore dormant passions most thoroughly – if he could find a way to soothe the sting of his words from today.

  He knew he had hurt her, albeit unintentionally. The flash of pain that wiped away the happy sparkle in her gaze a bare instant before a flush of embarrassment flooded her cheeks had been obvious, but there was simply no time to soothe her tender feelings ere her palm crashed against his face.

  He could have stopped her, he knew, but having already ruined her pleasure over their spontaneous visit to the bookseller, Simeon had allowed her whatever brief satisfaction striking out at him had brought.

  Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would make it up to her with a special gift – his most treasured personal keepsake, the last thing his mother had ever given to him while she yet lived – to atone for having embarrassed her in his thoughtless haste.

  Lifting the thin volume, Simeon unthinkingly caressed the worn, tooled leather spine with his thumb. After a quiet moment, he opened the book and leafed through the pages extolling Kozla's history along with his lineage and felt the sharp pang of nostalgia envelope him like a cloud ...he could hear the pride in his mother's voice again in every word he read.

  Shaking free of the moment and the somewhat painful memories, he thumped the covers closed and swallowed hard. Aye, he would give this very special text to her because he knew Helena alone would treasure it as much as he.

  * * *

  By the time Simeon arrived to escort her to the theater the following evening, Helena was in the throes of an abominably snippy mood.

  After having spent a torturous night dreaming of him and his blasted promised kiss, she had been awakened by a crushed and malevolent Melisande who had somehow learned of her betrothal.

  Helena had certainly spoken of it to no one, considering she fully intended to reject his suit at the end of his allotted time, but Melisande insisted all of London knew of it and she had cruelly deemed their friendship at an end with no possible recourse for recovery.

  Helena was almost certain her day could not possibly become any worse, and then minutes before their departure the prince pulled her aside in the Blackthorpe parlor to present her with a slender volume of text, one he assured her would be a most precious addition to her small but growing collection of manuscripts.

  Looking at him now, she could clearly see his pride in the publication and yes, she could even sense his pleasure in giving it to her but, still miffed about his cold reaction to her kiss from the day before, the sharp blade of remembered hurt slashed deep, and Helena opened her mouth to lash out in harsh retaliation.

  “Thank you, Simeon, but I truly have no wish to become ever more favorably viewed as your future princess by learning more of your history and the culture of your country.” Nonchalantly laying the volume aside, she turned back to him, her falsely bright smile beaming. “I shall keep it, of course, and once you have returned to your homeland, I promise to think of you when I see it near my more treasured volumes.”

  She pursed her lips for a moment, her expression thoughtful, and then shrugged before giving his pride one last painful prick. “Perhaps someday my children will find it interesting.”

  The warm glow in his eyes died an instant death, leaving behind a flat, cold brittleness when he looked at her again from beneath his lowered lashes. “Spite ill becomes you, Helena. I had not expected such maliciousness from you. From Lady Melisande, perhaps, but never you.”

  Guilt clenched her stomach, creating a sinking sensation in the pit of her belly which she forcibly ignored. One brow haughtily arched, she quipped, “Perhaps, Your Highness, you should court Merry in my stead?”

  Simeon's eyes narrowed. “And perhaps your spiteful temper would best be served by an evening spent alone?”

  Seeing her plans for the evening disintegrate before they began, Helena gasped and her eyes widened in stunned reflex. No! Surely he did not mean it. He would not dare force her to forgo the theater tonight, not after she had dressed so purposefully and with such care for the evening? Not after she had spent hours planning the outing in precise detail?

  “Alone? How then shall I manage to win Lord Baldwin's affection? I assure you doing so may prove a bit more difficult if I am not allowed to attend any of the season's festivities!” She would not have it, Helena decided, but when she opened her mouth to make an attempt at salvaging the moment – at least to her satisfaction – she caught a glimpse of her father who had come to stand just inside the open door to the parlor, his expression dour.

  “I find I must agree with His Highness, Helena.” He nodded in deference to the prince and then turned his disappointment-filled expression back to her. “Your words grieve me, to say nothing of your actions. You are dismissed, daughter, and if you are unclear as to the meaning of my words, you may interpret them thus: you are free to spend the evening however you will, so long as you do so alone in your chambers.”

  Casting a pleading glance in Simeon's direction, Helena sent him a quick, silent appeal. Please do not do this, her gaze implored, but he ignored the desperate plea she knew well and good he could see in her eyes. Instead, he only peered at her from between his narrowed eyelids. “My pardon, Helena, but I suddenly recall my presence is demanded elsewhere tonight.”

  Wit
h a click of his heels, he bowed low before her but when he straightened once more only to continue to peer at her in angry silence, Helena could see there would be no turning the judgment levied against her this night.

  Thwarted, humiliated, and plagued by a remorseful sense of guilt she knew she rightfully felt, Helena lowered her head in shame. Tears threatened. Stepping hesitantly forward to lay her gloved hand against Simeon's arm, she drew in a breath to steady her voice before she spoke. “Your Highness, I do most humbly apologize. My comments regarding your gift were both rude and inconsiderate and I-I would call them back if I could.”

  Surprisingly, it was true and saying the words did much to lift her feelings of self-reproach though she knew her meager apology would never fully mend the breach she had created in Simeon's pride. She could only hope he could sense her sincere contrition in her words. “I am truly thankful for your gift, Simeon, and I promise to take good care of it always.”

  Turning on her heel before the tears burning her eyelids could make an appearance and further add to her humiliation, Helena retrieved the book Simeon had given her. A quick glance at her father from beneath lowered lashes brought a nod of approval from that one and Helena offered him a tremulous smile before she quit the room.

  “Well said, Helena,” her father murmured when she passed, his acknowledgment indicating her humble apology had sufficiently affected a restoration of his paternal pride in her, but when she looked hopefully up at him, his expression remained stern. “Your mother will look in on you when we return.”

  Chapter Five

  Hours later, the missed trip to the theater forgotten and deeply engrossed in the volume on Kozlavian history Simeon had given her, Helena did not at first recognize the insistent, repetitive clicks at her window as a bid for her attention.

  If not for a loud thump followed by the prince's low demand for her to come to him, she would quite happily have continued to ignore the sounds. Instead, she scowled over the top of her book at the thick drapes covering the tall windows overlooking the balcony outside her room for a moment before carefully laying the book aside and sliding off her bed to pad curiously over to the window.