Page 69 of A Touch of Charm
“You risked your lives to invite me to a ball?” Andre crossed his arms.
“It’s Viennese. You ought to know about it.” Thea blushed and avoided his gaze as she spoke. “Stan kept us safe, and it’s hosted by a dear friend.”
Mary tapped her foot on the floor.
After a short pause, Andre smiled crookedly. “It’ll be an honor to attend. How could I refuse such a charming invitation by the most beautiful young woman,” he said to Mary, who was reaching for his hand and climbing on his feet. “Will you be there to dance a waltz with me?” But as Mary wrapped herself around him and wanted to be twirled around, Andre’s eyes met Thea’s.
“I hope you will grace me with the honor,” Andre said.
Thea turned a brighter shade of pink and nodded. “It would be my pleasure,” Thea said.
“Just like at your castle, Miss Thea. It will be a Viennese ball with a quadrille, beautiful gowns, and—” But Mary didn’t finish.
“That’s not what distinguishes the Viennese and London balls,” Thea tried to correct her.
But Mary was not letting reality interrupt her reverie. “Just like at your castle,” she said dreamily.
“I didn’t grow up in Vienna, Mary,” Thea said with a chuckle when Mary hopped off Andre’s feet, and they followed him to the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”
“Where’s your castle?” Mary asked when they returned to the practice. Andre opened the kitchen door for his guests, not that he usually had guests at the practice. It was strange not inviting them to his treatment room and leading the way to the relatively modest kitchen in the back of the first floor.
“In the Carpathian mountains,” Thea smiled, but she seemed absent-minded.
“I don’t know where that is. Is it a very magical place?” Mary pressed on.
They’d arrived in the kitchen, and Andre pinched his lips shut. This was usually a place filled with laughter, heated conversations, or intense discussions about how to pay the next month’s rent. Still, without Nick, Alfie, Felix, and Wendy, it was a modest kitchen with a relatively old-fashioned stove.
“I need to see the map,” Mary declared.
“I don’t have your books with me,” Thea said helplessly. “And I can hardly draw it for you, with valleys, mountains, the Bârsa and Turcu Rivers.” She looked a little at a loss.
“I have an atlas,” Andre said.
Mary flashed him a bright smile, showing her baby teeth in two tiny rows.
“One moment, please,” he said, rushing out the door, up the stairs, and to his chambers as fast as he could so he could be back and look out for Thea and Mary’s safety. If he had known they would leave Cloverdale House, he wouldn’t have…
Ah, there was the old atlas on his small and overstuffed bookshelf near his armoire. He grabbed it and, on his way back out of the room, stopped by the small mirror on the wall over the wash basin and picked up his comb. For the lovely princess, he didn’t want his wavy hair to look too unkempt.
Andre stilled instantly and then splashed some cold water on his face.
This was not how he ought to think about Stan’s sister. His task was to keep her safe.
She’ll always be safe in my arms.
And wasn’t his job to ensure her safety when Stan wasn’t nearby? He wasn’t a bow street runner; he was a doctor. He’d certainly ensure her physical well-being, but he worried about her emotional well-being.
She’d run away from her home in Transylvania and hadn’t confided in him whether she planned to return.
I don’t want to lose her.
But he didn’t even have her…
Clutching the atlas in the brown leather binding under his arm, Andre walked down at a more adult pace than he’d sprinted upstairs like a green boy in heat.
“This was my atlas,” he said as he handed it to Thea.
“Why did you need maps when you studied humans?” Mary asked.
