Page 89 of Disenchanted
“Eh? Why not?”
“For one thing, the man is very likely a foundling,” Em whispered.
“What of it? I never judge a man by his parentage or lack thereof. The commander appears to be a splendid, sensible fellow, honorable and all that.” Chuffy winked at me. “And quite handsome.”
My opinion of Em’s old beau soared by a great many notches. I would be pleased to know him better, but now was not the time.
Quarter ’til midnight, the clock ticked. I backed away toward the door.
Em looked a little chastened and ashamed enough to concede, “I am sure Commander Crushington is a worthy young man, if you say so, Chuffy. I will invite him to call to express my gratitude.” She added with a sigh. “If only he were a prince.”
I made no retort, merely stated my intention to fetch Netta. But as I bolted out of the sitting room, I reflected that from what I had seen of the behavior of princes, I was very glad that Horatio was not one.
As I hurried down the palace steps toward the garden, I felt the blister on my heel break. I pulled up short, sucking in my breath at the pain, but I had to keep going. Above the ornate arch leading into the garden was a clock tower. The hands of the massive timepiece clicked up a notch.
Five minutes until midnight. I was never going to make the rendezvous in time. As I hobbled beneath the arch and down the flagstone walkway set between the colorful flower beds, I prayed, “I am coming, Mal. Please, please, please don’t do anything stupid.”
My sore heel prevented me from breaking into a run. My progress was also impeded by the number of other guests strolling the garden paths in anticipation of the fireworks. Ordinarily, I would have attracted too much attention, a wild-eyed limping woman, muttering to herself.
But everyone that I dodged past appeared to be young couples, entirely lost in each other. Some held hands, some walked arm in arm, heads bent close together while others playfully chased each other through the hedges, giggling and stealing kisses.
The palace gardens were a lovers’ paradise, the moon shining softly overhead, the night sky spangled with stars, the air perfumed with the mingled scents of lilac, roses, and sweet honeysuckle. So many private nooks to choose from, wooden benches tucked in the shadows of tall yew hedges, hidden away from the glare of the lighted torches. The hushed burble of the fountains seemed to echo all the lovers’ sighs.
I was surrounded by the sort of romance that Em had promised this ball would be. But not for me, I thought with a pang. I wondered how differently this evening might have gone, if I had not had to steal the orb for Mal, if I had never crossed paths with Harper again, rekindling poignant memories and tearing open that old wound. If I could have had my dance with Horatio and walked these garden paths with him… would my bruised heart have finally been open to the prospect of a new love?
I would never know. Nor did I have the time for such repining and speculation. I expected to hear the clock strikemidnight at any moment, and I had only gotten as far as the green roundel of grass at the very center of the garden. As I paused to catch my breath, I spotted my missing sister.
The golden hews had been clipped to form a pediment and just beyond that, Netta and Sergeant Wharton perched demurely side by side on a stone bench, an ugly aura cat curled up at the sergeant’s feet. My sister leaned down and petted the fearsome beast.
Was this how Netta had spent the entire ball, in the company of this handsome young guard? Em would be horrified, but I had never seen our shy Netta look more animated or happier, not even when she was playing her harp. I recognized that starry-eyed expression. I had seen it reflected in the mirror the summer I had fallen in love with Harper.
Netta’s tall, young swain appeared equally smitten. Neither of them noticed me observing them between the branches of the yew. Even the aura cat did no more than lift its head, peer lazily in my direction before settling back down onto its huge paws.
Em would have expected me to limp over there and order Netta back to the palace forthwith. My stepmother would never consent to Netta pursuing an acquaintance with a lowly Scutcheon even if he did work at the castle. His Majesty deemed it a privilege to serve in his palace guard, but everyone knew that was simply the king’s excuse not to pay his sentries anything beyond bed and board. None of them could afford to take a wife.
There would be plenty of time to pry Netta away from her new admirer after I found Mal. Let my sister enjoy whatever moments remained of her romantic idyll, I thought sadly as I limped off in the opposite direction.
As Mal had instructed me, I headed deeper into the palace grounds where the garden had been fashioned to resemble a pretty wilderness, the shrubs and hedges less well trimmed. It was quiet and deserted here, not a good location for viewing thefireworks. No charming nooks with benches here, the towering oaks blocked any vista of the open sky.
The path was rougher as well, pebbles instead of flagstones. I swore when a particularly sharp stone poked the bottom of my dancing slipper. But there at long last, bathed in a ray of moonlight, was the old vine-covered gate that would lead me beyond the palace grounds to the woodland. I might just manage to make my rendezvous with Mal on time after all.
Heartened, I picked up my pace, despite my aching feet. I was feeling so jubilant; it took me a moment to realize I was being followed. I heard the crunch of pebbles dislodged. Before I could react, someone slung his arm over my shoulders. I let out a frightened squeak as I was yanked back against a hard wall of chest.
Horatio was my alarmed thought, but I knew the commander would never have grabbed me so roughly. If this was one of the palace guards, he was far exceeding his authority to be manhandling a guest in such fashion and so I would tell him.
“Bella.” My skin prickled at the feel of hot breath on my neck as a familiar voice rasped in my ear.
I froze for a moment and then managed to squirm free. Spinning around, I came face-to-face with Prince Florian. His golden mane hung wildly about the chiseled planes of his face.
“Aha, there you are,” he cried.
Yes, there I was. Unfortunately. Recovering from the fright he had given me; I bobbed a curtsy.
“I have been looking for you everywhere, beautiful Bella,” he said.
“You have?”
Something about the way he smiled disquieted me. I took a wary step back only to have him follow.
