Page 44 of Princess Bride Swap

“Ah, well, I’m afraid Idoknow everything backward and forward. So filth it is.”

The countess scoffed, which scraped against Beau’s last nerve. She hated for her intelligence to be insulted. She hated the way the countess was always harping on her to do things differently. No wonder Lyon was obsessed with control and doing the right thing.

The woman who’d raised him wasequallyobsessed, if not more so. Then if she added in stories of his grandmother, well, she understood why they were all such...external perfectionists and internal messes.

“Quiz me then,” Beau said, barely resisting tossing her book down like a gauntlet thrown.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you do not think I have the knowledge to handle this event, quiz me.” She kept the fake smile firmly in place. “I would love to show you just how prepared I am.”

“That is no way to talk to me, young lady.”

Beau happened to think she was being very calm, but there was no point arguing with someone who wanted her to be at fault. “I apologize. I only meant that I’d be happy to prove to you that I am quite ready so you needn’t worry so.”

The countess made a haughty sound and then turned to leave. Or so Beau thought. After a few steps, she whirled back around.

“Who is Giorgio Amato?” she demanded.

“The MP from Cana. His wife is Amelie. She is from France. They have two children. Girls. Would you like their names?”

The Countess gotverypinched-looking. “And who will be seated at the secondary table?”

“The parliamentary aides, and their guests. Twelve of each. I can recite names, if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Excellent.” Then, to try to smooth things over, which was so foreign to her and yet necessary in this role as avisible,respectableprincess, she continued. “I understand it must be...concerning to worry that I am not up to the challenge of taking on your role of hostess that you’ve held for the past year of Lyon’s reign. Everyone has told me you were excellent at the job and made certain I knew I had incredibly big shoes to fill.”

It was a bit of an exaggeration—another thing she wouldn’t have done for herself. But for Lyon? She was an utter fool.

“You see, Countess, I have an excellent memory. It usually only takes reading something for it to be lodged here.” Beau pointed to her temple. “Along with reading dossiers on every guest invited to the dinner, I have also read a book on Divio history, parliamentary etiquette, and the guide sent to guests. Is there anything else I should read?” Bend, bend, bend.

Just like her mother.

“Perhaps you should have asked me for help prior to the day before,” the countess said.

Agree. Agree.

But her temper was snapping, and it feltgood. Felt wonderful to feel something other a numb detachment from everything around her. “I’ll ask Lyon for help if I need it.” Then because that wasrude,she tacked on a “thank you.”

“He has a kingdom to run. Don’t you think you’ve been distracting enough?”

Beau laughed. “Distracting?” Her husband barely looked at her, did everything he could to keep his physical distance. And sure, she’d leaned into that over the past few days, because she couldn’tbearthe thought of talking about schedules or when she had the best chance of getting pregnant.

But Beau doubted very much, no matter how happy Lyon claimed she made him, that she was any kind ofdistraction. Because he didn’t want that, so she hadn’t been that.

“He hasn’t been the same since you came back from that little honeymoon,” the countess continued. “The fault of that lays directly in your lap.”

Her lap? If only the fault of anything was hers, then maybe she could fix it. “Did it ever occur to you that the fault might be yours?” Beau countered. In the back of her mind she knew she was making a mistake. Lyon would be displeased.

And she just didn’tcareanymore. She wanted to break something. If it was them, so be it. “That it was you who put unreasonable expectations upon him? That you demanded he be so perfect that he’s terrified of any misstep?” Beau did slam the book down then. She got to her feet and looked the shocked countess right in the eyes. “Or not you. Your mother, perhaps.”

“How dare you speak of my mother.”

“I have heard so much about her. In these bright, glowing terms, and yet all I see is a woman desperate for control, with no worry of how all that control might hurt and twist a little boy.”

The countess reared back like she’d been slapped, and Beau knew she would pay for this. In so many ways this very moment would backfire on her, but she couldn’t stop herself.

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