Page 7 of Charmless
His face might have been the most impassive one I had ever seen, but those eyes of his were alert. His watchful gaze rested upon me in a thoughtful fashion that made me uncomfortable, just as he had done at the ball. I recalled his response when the king had exclaimed about how greatly I resembled my mother.
“Is that not true, Majordomo? Is not this girl Cecily’s very image?”
“Indeed, she is sire. Except for her eyes. She has her father’s eyes.”
I still could not decide what lay behind the majordomo’s remark. Had he meant it as a warning to the king? His majesty had behaved as if it was, dropping my hand as though my skin oozed poison.
The majordomo struck me as the sort of servant who would be good at keeping secrets. I wondered how many he had kept for the king over the years and how many of those had involved my parents, especially my father.
For most of my life, I had thought of my father as a recluse, content to spend most of his days poring over his beloved books in the library. It was only recently that I had been receiving hintsthat Julius Upton had a mysterious history of which I was quite unaware. It struck me that here was a chance to resolve some of my questions concerning my father. I might never have another such opportunity.
The majordomo bowed to me and was already halfway out the door. I leapt up and cried, “Sir, wait!”
He paused on the threshold to look inquiringly back at me.
“Your pardon, sir.” I summoned up what I hoped was a winning smile. “From something you said to the king last night, I gather that you knew my mother.”
“I did indeed, Miss Upton,” he replied courteously.
“And my father.”
“Yes.”
“You knew him well?”
The majordomo nodded.
“Did you know him for a long time?”
“Long enough.”
“Did you like my father?”
“Indeed, yes. He was a man worthy of respect.” The majordomo hesitated as though weighing his words. “Julius Upton was the most honorable man I have ever known, true to his beliefs, often to his own detriment. Extremely intelligent, but alas not always as wise as he should have been.”
The little man gave me a gentle smile. “When it comes to making decisions that will affect the course of your life, I trust you will be much wiser, Miss Upton.”
He bowed and scurried on his way, leaving me wondering what exactly he meant by that. Was the majordomo recommending that I accept the prince’s proposal or was he warning me not to do so? Or could there possibly be something else behind his words that had nothing to do with Florian?
I doubted I would gain anything more from questioning the majordomo, but I could not let that enigmatic remark gounchallenged. I hurried after him, but he had already vanished out the front door.
Only my stepmother remained in the front hall. She directed a look at me that was part plea, part reproach.
“Prunella Upton. We must talk.”
“Not now, Em,” I said, darting past her.
“But what could you possibly have been thinking of?—”
“Later,” I insisted as I hastened out the front door.
But I was too late to intercept the majordomo. I do not know how the little man had managed to slip away so quickly, especially with the crowd still gathered outside my fence. But by the time I made my way down the garden walk, the majordomo was disappearing into the royal carriage.
Florian, however, was still there, holding court among my neighbors. I dreaded to think what the prince might be saying, but when I appeared, a loud cheer arose from the crowd. I froze in dismay as Florian turned to grin at me. Propping one hand atop the gate, he vaulted over it. Before I could prevent him, he pounced upon me. Dipping me back over his arm, his mouth crashed down upon mine.
I managed to lock my lips together like the portcullis on a besieged castle slamming closed. Florian’s tongue battered futilely against the hard seal of my mouth. He finally gave up.
He released me so suddenly I staggered to keep my balance. I realized this little performance was more for the benefit of the crowd, to salvage the prince’s wounded pride. But what aboutmypride?
