Page 10 of A Princess, Stolen
I nodded. Few people knew about my life-threatening allergies.If this information fell into the wrong hands, a madman could easily kill you, Dad had once said.Just to get back at me. And they would probably get away with it. Unlike poison, it is never possible to prove beyond a doubt that the perpetrator had malicious intent. If they were to be caught, they could always declare the attack was an accident. That, of course, lowers the inhibition threshold for such an attack.
Dad was absolutely correct. And since he had said that, I didn’t like eating out, and when I did, I preferred to eat in the few select restaurants where he knew every chef and employee personally. But, even in the penthouse, where every food item was checked three times, I was sometimes afraid that a madman might have prepared it with allergens.
During the meal, I sat between Dad and Penelope. Penelope talked about Lawrence again and, of course, about the selection of each menu course. “Bluefin tuna and prawns…in lambda oil?” she whispered in my ear. “That’s the most expensive olive oil in the world! I think a bottle costs twenty thousand dollars!”
“Twenty-two thousand,” I corrected, almost apologetically.
Later, with dessert, it was a similar story. “A golden phoenix cupcake? How many karats is the gold leaf coating?”
“Uh…twenty-three karats.”
“And, one cost how much?”
“Over a thousand dollars.”
Penelope rolled her eyes theatrically. “Oh, no! And there are only three hundred guests.”
“Something like that!” Dad teased, having heard her.
Penelope blushed and grinned apologetically. “If I were a man, I’d marry Willa right now.”
She and Dad joked a bit with Penelope’s parents, but I was only half-listening. That bad feeling suddenly returned. I don’t know why, maybe because I’d been focusing too much on myself. Or maybe it was only the cupcake in my stomach. Instinctively, I touched the bracelet in my braid and scanned the area for Delilah. Her calm demeanor would be good for me right then, unfortunately, she was sitting at the staff table and the meal wasn’t officially over yet. It would be rude to get up before the cheese was served.
A short time later, when the first couples were dancing to The Marquise and Penelope had made her way to Lawrence, I wanted to go to her, but Dad came up to me. “Can your old man kidnap you for a word?”
I laughed. “First, you’re only fifty-three, and second, you don’t need to kidnap me. I’ll go anywhere with you.” I could talk to Delilah later.
“Oh, then do me the honor, dear Miss Hampton.” He winked at me and directed me into an adjoining ballroom, which he had obviously also rented. In the center on the only table stood a fragrant bouquet of creamy white gladiolas. He stopped in front of it. “I didn’t want to give you this in front of all the guests.” Suddenly serious, he pulled a package out of his jacket pocket.
My eyes widened. “Dad, you know I didn’t want any presents! I only wanted donations. That applied to you too. Besides, you’re already hosting this party.”
“It’s not something I bought new if that makes you feel any better.”
He was going to give it to me either way, so I took the gold-wrapped gift he held out to me. “Okay.” The paper felt smooth and cool under my fingers and the dark red bow was made of soft velvet. Carefully, I removed the tape and unfolded the paper.
A dark blue jewelry box appeared, the kind you get from a jeweler. “Not new, right?” I asked in a stern tone. They were probably the earrings I’d recently found at Cartier, tiny studs with gemstones that were exactly the color of my eyes.
Now Dad was smiling. “I promise. Open it!” He took the paper and the ribbon from me and set them on the table as I flipped the lid up.
I recognized what it was immediately. “Mom’s wedding band, Dad?” I whispered, shocked. It was unmistakably hers. In addition to glittering diamonds, it also had a heart-shaped ruby in the middle. I had always loved that stone.
Dad looked at me carefully. “Do you think it’s an inappropriate gift?”
I was silent. Inappropriate was the wrong word, but I couldn’t think of another.
“I don’t think your mom would have minded…if you ever get married, you could wear it. In many families, the wedding ring is passed down. Daughters usually get their grandmother’s or great-grandmother’s, not their mom’s… At least, that’s how it should be,” he added.
“Oh, Dad!” The diamonds winked in the light of the ceiling spotlights. I didn’t know what to say. It wouldn’t feel right to accept it. I mean I was Dad’s daughter. I couldn’t wear my mom’s wedding ring! That was…just wrong.
“You don’t like it?”
I shook my head, feeling sick in my stomach. “No, I do…but who would I marry?”
Dad laughed and ran his hand through his dark hair, which had a tiny hint of gray at the temples. “I don’t know. You can take your time with it, love. Until then, you can wear it as a piece of jewelry or put it in your nightstand.”
I held the stones up to the light. The blood-red ruby heart seemed to glow from within. “I don’t know, Dad.”
“Just try it on. You have her delicate fingers…” Dad wiped his hands on his pants as if they were damp. He seemed nervous since I was obviously reacting differently than he expected as well as disappointed because he wasn’t looking me in the eye.
