With a small cry, Lydia turned on her heel and fled from the ballroom.
Her dream night had become a nightmare, and she didn’t think the hurt would ever go.
CHAPTER NINE
ALEX STRUGGLED TO keep his expression even as people laughed and danced and made merry all around him.
This evening had been emotionally draining for everyone. But none, he feared, more than Lydia.
His heart ached as he remembered the look on her face, the tears in her beautiful blue eyes.
Alex had done some questionable things in his time, but none had ever made him feel such an utter bastard as hurting the woman he loved.
He had wanted to run to her, but Prudence had cautioned him to give Lydia space.
So, after he’d seen Huntsforth, who had tired quickly, back to his room, Alex had returned to the ball.
And now he stood here, ignoring the revelry all around him, wanting nothing more than to go to her and beg for forgiveness.
Mere hours ago, he’d been declaring his love for her. He’d been about to tell her everything and ask her to marry him.
And now… well, she would probably never speak to him again.
And he only had himself to blame.
He watched dispassionately as an army of debutantes made their way in his direction with all the subtlety of a runaway carriage.
And his control snapped.
No matter what her mother said, he couldn’t stand here knowing that Lydia was alone and hurting because of him.
Without a word to anyone, he turned and swiftly left the ballroom, making his way upstairs.
Ignoring his conscience, ignoring propriety and Society rules, Alex bounded up to Lydia’s bedchamber and banged on the closed door.
There was no answer, even though he waited and waited, continuing to knock the entire time.
Finally, he gave up and moved away, his heart aching.
He passed by Huntsforth’s rooms and stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Lydia’s voice within.
“But, my dear, why not give him a chance to explain?”
Alex could have hugged his uncle all over again as he heard the man’s question.
“What would be the point?”
His gut clenched at the desolation in Lydia’s tone. He wanted to rush inside and gather her in his arms, protecting her from anything that could hurt her, even though he was the source of her current pain.
He’d never hated himself so much.
“Don’t you love him? For it’s as clear as day that he loves you.”
Alex held his breath while he waited for her to answer.
And she took so long that he began to feel woozy.
“It doesn’t matter if I love him or not,” she finally said.
What the hell sort of answer was that?
“Just humour an old man, hmm?” Huntsforth coaxed.
Lydia heaved a deep sigh. “Of course I love him,” she finally said, not sounding overly happy about it. “I love him more than I can even express. But it’s useless.”
“What is, dear?”
“Him. Us. This.” Her voice trembled more and more with every word. “I-I thought — naively, it turns out — that we might have a future together. I had such girlish dreams of marriage and children. And it’s all for naught.”
“Of course it’s not,” Huntsforth said with more strength than Alex had heard thus far in the man’s voice. “What makes you say such a thing?”
“He’s a prince, Huntsforth. A prince! And I’m a woman who is far too forthright for her own good. A woman who would rather stomp around collecting holly than sit doing needlepoint. I prefer the taste of ale to tea, for heaven’s sake. I could never marry a prince. I’m not good enough.”
Alex couldn’t stay silent any longer.
He burst into the bedchamber, causing Lydia to leap up from her seat by Huntsforth’s bed.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.
“Lydia!” he exclaimed then abruptly stopped talking because he didn’t actually know what he wanted to say. He just knew that he couldn’t bear to hear her disparage all the things about herself that he loved the most.
She frowned at him, no doubt waiting for him to speak again.
But he was speechless. He didn’t even know where to start, how to explain.
After a moment or two of awkward silence, she opened her mouth, no doubt to ring a peal over his head.
And Alex did what was instinctive.
He stopped the words before they even started, by pulling her to him and kissing her senseless.
LYDIA IMMEDIATELY MELTED under Alex’s touch before she became aware of a strange sort of gurgling sound.
Pulling away from his sinful mouth, she realised that they’d been kissing like that in front of poor Huntsforth, who now looked like he was going to have an apoplexy.
Stammering an apology, and ignoring the scoundrel beside her who refused to loosen his grip on her heart, she fled the room.
But where to go?
She couldn’t face the ball right now, even though she was sure Mama would be beside herself.
And it seemed as though the house wasn’t safe.
Making a sudden decision, Lydia rushed to her room to don a warm cloak and change into serviceable kid boots instead of the impractical satin slippers she currently wore. She readied herself and then dashed outside, straight to the holly bush.
It was ridiculously sentimental to return to the place where she’d first fallen in love with Alex. No. Prince Alex.
The sooner she got used to saying that, to thinking that, the sooner she could convince her foolish heart that he was lost to her.
The silence of the snowy night was a balm to her frayed nerves.
As Lydia stood there, trying to gather her riotous thoughts, the snow began to fall gently from the sky.
The darkness of the night, the fresh beauty of the blanketed ground and now the softly falling snow helped to quieten her as nothing else could have.
Nothing, she decided, could be more peaceful than a snowfall at night.
“I hoped to find you here.”
Lydia’s heart, which had only just begun to slow, raced again as Alex’s voice sounded behind her.
“Can I help you, Your Highness?” she asked stiffly, not feeling remotely strong enough to turn and face him.
“Please don’t call me that, Lydia,” he implored her.
She wanted to argue, but the fight had gone out of her. She was tired. She was heartbroken. And she didn’t have the strength to continue this.
“Leave me alone,” she whispered.
“I can’t do that,” he said, stepping around her so she had no choice but to look at him.
“Why not?”
“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And I’m terrified that if I leave you alone long enough, you’ll talk yourself into not loving me back. And I couldn’t live with that.”
Lydia’s heart begged her to just go to him, but she couldn’t. She actually listened to her brain for once. A miracle in itself.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she admitted.
“I want you to say you love me,” he responded immediately, his eyes shining in the moonlight.
She could lie. But what would be the point? She wouldn’t have behaved as she had with him if she didn’t love him.
“I do love you,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter?” he countered. “What could matter more?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she responded sarcastically. “The fact that you’re a bloody prince?”
Swearing was obviously not ideal. However, if ever a situation warranted it, it was this one.
“The fact that you lied to me,” she spat. “The fact that we can never—” Her voice cracked, and she had to swallow hard before she could continue. “—that we can never be together,” she finished miserably.
Alex frowned loo
king confused, but it seemed clear to her.
“How can you even say that? We can’t not be together, Lydia. I don’t want to live without you. I won’t live without you. I want to marry you.”
Oh, why did he have to go and say that? Voice her deepest desires. It was already hard enough to even think these things.
“Alex, I’m no princess. I can’t be royalty, for heaven’s sake. I don’t even ride side-saddle most of the time.”
The correlation between the two things probably didn’t make much sense to him, but for Lydia, it just highlighted how un-royal she was.
“I don’t care about things like that,” he argued. “I care about you.”
Lydia shook her head.
“I can’t do it,” she reiterated. “I don’t want to. I cannot leave Mama. Or Huntsforth. I’m sorry.”
He studied her for so long she was worried he’d frozen in the inclement conditions.
After an age, he stepped forward and grasped her shoulders.
“Fine,” he said, and her heart sank like the fool it was. “We won’t leave them.”
Now it was her turn to look confused.
“Wha—”
“We’ll stay here. I’ll learn how to run my inheritance.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact. So sure.
It was utter madness.
“Alex, be serious.”
“I have never been more serious in my life,” he said firmly.
“You can’t,” she cried.
“Why can’t I?”
“Alex…” Lydia spoke slowly as though she were dealing with a particularly irascible toddler, which is what it felt like right then. “…Prince Alex,” she emphasised. “You’re a member of the royal family of Aldonia. You can’t just decide… well, not to be.”
He smiled, looking far too relaxed for her liking.
“No, I can’t just decide not to be a member of my family anymore,” he confirmed. “But I can decide what I want to do with my life. And with whom I want to spend it. And I can promise you, sweetheart, nothing will ever make me happier than just being Alex. And being here. With you.”
Lydia wanted to believe him — so much that it hurt.
“I can’t ask you to give all of that up,” she whispered, past a painful lump in her throat.
“You didn’t ask,” he said softly. “And besides, the only thing I will be giving up is a lifestyle empty of any real purpose. Lydia, all I’ve ever been is the second prince. The second son. The spare. Here, with you, I get a chance to be a man whom I am proud to be. To love you, and nothing could ever be more important than that.”
She couldn’t contain a sob as her heart soared with joy.
Could he be serious?
“I quite like the idea of playing at being an English lord. And as long as you’re happy with your prospective husband downgrading from a prince to a mere earl, then I’m happy to do it.”
Lydia laughed aloud at his words.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She tried once more to reason with him.
“I do, my darling. For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want and exactly where I want to be. It’s you — all of it, everything — it’s all you.”
Finally, even her brain allowed her to rejoice, and Lydia wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself closer to him.
“I love you.” Her voice was muffled against his warm chest.
His arms came around her, and his lips pressed against her head.
“Thank God,” he whispered.
Then, he leaned back to look down at her.
“I won’t be able to give up everything, you know,” he warned gently. “I will always be a prince. Do you think you could manage being a part-time princess?”
Lydia pretended to consider carefully, her heart freer than ever before.
“You live in a palace?” she asked.
He nodded, a grin on his face.
She heaved a longsuffering sigh. “I suppose I could just about manage it,” she said with a smile.
Who would have thought that Lydia Charring would have found her fairy-tale ending?
Who would have thought that she would fall desperately in love with her very own prince?
Alex released her momentarily and dipped a hand inside his coat.
Lydia watched with a frown of confusion, which gave way to a shocked laugh as he produced a sprig of holly.
Wordlessly, he held it over her head then once more pulled her closer.
“What is that?” she asked with a grin.
“It’s tradition,” he answered solemnly, before capturing her lips in a kiss once more.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NADINE MILLARD is a writer hailing from Dublin, Ireland. When she’s not writing, she’s coaching at a baton twirling club, helping with homework for three adorable but chaotic children, taking care of a dog and a cat, or trying to squeeze in quality time with her husband, or a good book.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I HAVE TO thank the Blue Tulip team for all of their wonderful hard work. Nate, Rachel, Jill, Jena, Paula, Kay, Julie, Monica and all of the long-suffering editors who put up with me: thank you!
Thank you my fellow Blue Tulip authors who lift while they climb! You girls are my rocks and my inspiration.
Thanks to my wonderful family for your continued support and belief in me.
And finally, none of this would be possible without with wonderful bloggers who are such an integral part of the book community. Thanks for the support and constant hard work.
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