Page 31 of Desperately Yours

“You’re incorrigible.” I turned back to face the window. “She’snot been gone four hours and you’re already talking in jest.” It wouldn’t matter if Esmerey was gone two weeks, I would still be reeling over the events. Nothing made sense. One moment she was the picture of health, and the next, she was fighting for her life. I thought she was choking by the way she was turning blue and clawing at her throat. The image would haunt me for years to come. But, as close as the physicians could tell, her organs had begun a rapid shut down process. It was as if she had begun to age at an accelerated pace with no explanation. Her family was notified and it was no surprise that they retrieved her at first light.

“I don’t see why you’re all beat up. You were going to send her home anyway.”

I clenched my jaw as I burned with annoyance. “Because, though I planned to send her home, I wasn’t planning to do it in a body bag.”

“And you didn’t. She’s right as rain.” Bishop paused. “Well, maybe more like a monsoon. Clearly, she’s not right, but that’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” I exhaled slowly and turned to face him once more, sure that I would see the confirmation on his face. “Without this little game I orchestrated, none of this would have happened.”

“Yes, and you’d be marrying Esmerey and miserable for the rest of your life.” His boots scraped as he shifted them to the ground. “Stop wallowing. After all,” he grinned, “you have a date to get ready for, yeah?”

I slumped onto the couch across from him. “It feels wrong at this point, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely not.” He slapped his leg for emphasis. “This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You have a choice to make and without all the information, how on earth could you make it?”

“Perhaps I could man up and marry the non-foreigner and stop all of this madness?”

Bishop rolled his eyes. “Would you stop falling on your sword for one moment? I swear, you are the most self-sacrificing ninny I’ve ever met.”

“I am not.” I leaned forward and pointed my finger at him. “I simply can’t find a way to make it work. You saw how they despise her.”

“And I’ve also seen how the people love her.” He pointed his finger at me. “And she held her own with your father, even with the difficult questions. She would be good for Nolcovia, and you know it.”

I rocked back into the cushions with a groan. “Of course, I know it. Watching her debate with him, it only made me love her more. But then, Sadira, she’s—”

“Sadie,” Bishop corrected me.

I frowned. “Lady Sadira is intriguing and kind. She would make an excellent queen and perhaps maybe one day we might fall madly in love…”

He waited for me to look at him again. “And yet, you’ve already fallendesperatelyin love with Michaela.”

“But with Coco it’s—”

“Michaela,” he corrected me.

“Same difference.”

“Not even.” Bishop leaned forward. “For you, Coco is the friend you had years ago, this figment of your imagination and a symbol of freedom from the responsibilities you face here. But, Michaela,” he made sure I was listening, “she’s the woman you fell in love with here. She represents a future you’re finally not running from.”

I opened my mouth to object, but I couldn’t. For years, I had always assumed Bishop was nothing more than a wandering philanderer, but apparently, he saw more than I thought he did. Maybe more than I did. After all, he was right. I’d been dreading my future, especially since my father became ill. I could neverfully see myself in the role, not until I imagined Michaela as the queen at my side.

I opened my hands as if to show just how little I had in the way of prospects. “If you have all the answers, then what do I do?”

A sneaky grin peeked through. “It all starts with the date.”

We spent the next two hours planning the perfect date. We would spend the afternoon perusing the textile district in the capital. Bishop knew a few designers and had called in favors in order to allow us to see their most recent designs. While I had her distracted, Bishop agreed to prepare the second half of the date. I wanted to take her hiking through the mountains, despite the newly fallen snow. I knew the perfect clearing to spend the evening. By the time we arrived, the lights would be hanging from the trees and dinner would be waiting for us. We would spend the rest of the evening alone, watching the stars, and would spend the night camping outside like we used to. My heart raced just thinking about all that time alone.

“You know the cameras will follow you.” Bishop seemed intent on interrupting my daydream. “But I can put in a word with Tom. He likes me. We’ll have them cut out after dinner, once they have a few good shots of your snuggles, snogging, and getting ready for sleepy time.”

“That would be ideal.” I rose and walked to the armoire, considering the suit I would wear. “I hope she’s willing to leave the designers. I’m a bit concerned that once there an evening in the mountain chill will be—”

My chamber door pushed open with a thundering crack. I whirled around, ready for attack, but the invading army was only one person.

“Leonidas Ignatius Fitzborough!” Mother stormed into the room. “Under no circumstances are you to go out with that American girl. I won’t have it!”

My instinct was to cower like the boy I once was, but I stood my ground. “You don’t have a say in it, Mother. You agreed from the start that this would be my choice, and I plan to—”

“You want to talk about agreements?” Her voice turned shrill. She adjusted her coat and shot a withering glare at Bishop as if to silence him before he started. “You, dear boy, promised that she would not be a prospect if we allowed her to come.” Her hands trembled with anger. “You assured me that you would not fall in love with her.”

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