Page 33 of A Touch of Charm
The room’s ambient noises seemed to swell in her ears as they proceeded to a room off the main hall, the muted conversation in German between the men weaving a tapestry of distraction as she tried to decipher Andre’s intentions. Her palms felt clammy against the fabric of her gown, a tangible reminder of her unease. Would tea merely be a polite obligation, a preamble to distance?
As they moved toward the tearoom, Thea was acutely aware of the space between them. She longed for reassurance in his gaze, a flicker of the connection they had shared, yet his face remained impassive, a mask she could not penetrate.
The plush carpet in the drawing room muffled their footsteps, the rich scent of black tea with bergamot wafting through the air as they neared the table set for four. Thea settled into her seat, her fingers tracing the delicate rim of the teacup before her, seeking comfort in its familiar texture. She watched a footman pour the tea, each movement precise and controlled, and wondered if the ritual would be the last thread tying them together.
After tea, Andre rose and made to leave. “Please excuse me, Your Royal Highness.Monsieur le Marquis. Herr Graf,” Andre bowed to all of them, addressing each in a nearly impeccable accent in French and German. “I must attend to my work.”
Thea forced herself to meet Andre’s eyes, determined to bridge the gap with sincerity. She hoped for a thaw in his demeanor, a sign that their bond could weather this storm but all she could make out was his fear. Could it all be traced back to Baron von List or was there something else? She wanted to know more.
Everything about the handsome doctor.
Andre withdrew to a separate room, first with one and then with the other of the two men, to examine their injuries. Nurse Shira returned, informing Thea that Mary would be an adorable assistant nurse.
“My husband operated on them, but it is Andre who will see to their recovery from now on,” Shira explained when she joined Thea and oversaw a footman clearing the tea set once Andre had left with the count and the marquis. “He’s very talented, and it certainly helps that he can speak with both of them in their native tongues.”
“Indeed.” Thea marveled at the broad education Andre had for a doctor. It still didn’t make sense to her that he had had a governess and spoke so many languages. Something about him made him fit in with the lords more than the working class.
“Yes, he speaks so many languages fluently. Isn’t he amazing?” Shira smiled, but then another woman in a white apron called her. “Would you pardon me, please? Andre needs my assistance.”
“Certainly,” Thea said.
“Please feel free to explore the castle. I will send someone to show you your chambers shortly.” With these words, Shira disappeared into a corridor.
Thea continued to walk down the other direction of the hall. She was surrounded by the elegance of England’s craftsmanship and artistry. Lavish draperies, gilded mirrors, and finely upholstered furniture whispered tales of a time when beauty and elegance were life’s priorities. Although distinct from Bran Castle and other European palaces, each space exuded a warm sense of welcome. Everything felt quintessentially English—from the floral tea service to the embroidered settee cushions—and Thea was enchanted by it all.
Her gaze swept over the lavish room, and each intricate detail sparked dreams of a life with Andre. She envisioned them moving gracefully through these elegant spaces, their fingers gently touching, and their laughter floating in the air. She pictured intimate dinners, where every word exchanged over candlelight promised a deeper connection, filling her heart with a delightful mix of joy and longing. If this castle was nice on the inside, then there would be even more to explore outside, wouldn’t there? Perhaps, while Stan was healing, Andre could show her more of London? More than she’d seen in the short time with Mary’s family. More time with Andre—yes, that was what she longed for even though she couldn’t quite explain the urge.
But reality always found its way in, a stark reminder of the barriers between them. The class divide was undeniable, with Andre’s status as a commoner casting a shadow over her dreams. Her engagement to Prince Ralph felt like an unyielding burden, now amplified by her notoriety as the runaway princess. The whispers of scandal swirling around her urged caution. Still, even as her imagined world began to dissolve, its beauty lingered, urging Thea to hold on to every stolen moment with Andre.
She wasn’t ready to let this newfound tingling sensation go when she was near him—not yet. No matter how much Stan wanted to lock her up at Cloverdale House while he was a patient—she wasn’t in need of treatment. But she did want more time with the doctor.
This is not over.
Chapter Thirteen
Thea wandered throughthe house alone after Andre went to tend to his patients, and Mary decided to follow the nurse again. It was early in the afternoon, and the light coming through the large windows at Cloverdale House cast a golden-orange hue onto the damask wallpaper. Thea’s fingers brushed lightly against the shimmering fabric wallpaper. Rich, intricate patterns danced beneath her touch, each thread reminding her of the opulence she’d left behind at home when she ran away. It hadn’t been hasty, nor had it been avoidable to run away; she was still convinced, but it was a big step though one that should help her to achieve her freedom. She was perhaps known as the runaway princess, but that didn’t mean she was free to follow her heart.
Yet, despite the familiarity of luxuries, there was something different in England. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air under the vaulted ceiling of the staircase fill her lungs as she continued her exploration. The air was fresh, as if the wind whispered promises of new beginnings. It invigorated her, filling her with a newfound confidence that she rarely felt at home.
When Thea approached an open door, a light-flooded room made her stop. Blinking, she stepped cautiously through the open door. Her eyes adjusted, revealing a cozy sitting area bathed in the afternoon’s sunlight, and the silhouette of a woman caught her attention. She seemed relaxed yet poised in an armchair with one leg stretched onto a cushioned stool. She hadn’t seemed to notice Thea come in, for she appeared caught in her thoughts—gazing out the window onto the lovely park surrounding the castle that Thea had noticed earlier from the carriage.
She appeared not much older than Thea, perhaps only two or three years her senior. Her dark brown hair was swept up in a simple yet elegant coiffure, revealing a delicate neck and refined posture.
Thea cleared her throat, and the woman turned toward her with a practiced smile of the sort Thea knew all too well from a refined upbringing.
“Come in!” the woman called out, her voice clear and inviting. “Is it time for my tea already?”
Thea hesitated for a moment, then stepped fully into the room. The woman’s warm eyes were framed by long lashes that cast gentle shadows on her cheeks. Her kindness and openness drew Thea in.
“I’m afraid I’m not here with tea,” Thea said, offering a small smile. “I was just exploring the castle and found myself drawn to this room.”
The woman’s mouth curved into a genuine smile as she gave Thea the once-over. “Well, you are most welcome. I’m Isabella Victoria von Habsburg, Lady Ashford. And you are?”
“Thea,” she replied, inclining her head slightly in greeting.
“Just Thea?”
“Princess Josephine Theodora Andrea von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen,” she said with a curtsy.
