Page 88 of Loyally, Luke
“You stay pretty busy, don’t you?”
“At this time of year, I do.” She nodded, pulling her gaze from his. “It seems that most of the meetings and parties and all the other royal business for the North Country get smashed into the first half of the year. By July, I get a bit of a respite until Christmas planning starts, though.”
“Well, at least there’s a break in the crazy.” He glanced toward the hallway and sighed. “I guess we’d better get to the luncheon?”
A sudden thought flickered across her mind. “You’re... you’re not concerned about speaking, are you?”
He grimaced. “I’m just not that great at speaking in front of people. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy.”
“But you spoke to Father so well. Clear and focused. With passion.”
“That was to you and your dad, not a roomful of people.” He raised a brow. “And definitely not to any media.”
“I know you’re going to be excellent.” She gestured toward the hallway. “But we do need to make an appearance at least. However, if you find you’re becoming overwhelmed, you could just imagine you’re saying it to me.”
His grin partially resurfaced. “That might help a little.”
They turned toward the door and Ellie’s gaze caught on the far wall: the old boards of children’s names framed in aged oak poised on the pale wall.
“Luke, it looks marvelous.” She stepped closer, staring at the evidence of lives lived within these walls and now brought out into the light. “Mrs.Kershaw must adore it.”
“She seemed pretty pleased.” His shoulder brushed hers as they stared at this special piece of history for Cambric. “I think she plans to give the donors a tour of the renovations once all the speaking is over, so I wanted to have it up and ready for her.”
“I know you’ve mentioned how your youngest sister has some magical quality of helping other people believe in themselves, but I think it must be a family trait.”
“I’m not magical.” He wrinkled his nose with his grimace. “I’m practical.”
“Perhaps your type of magic begins with wearing overalls and carrying a hammer but ends with making other people shine or find where they belong. You may be behind the scenes, but you are no less important than those who take the stage. In fact, without you, they may not even make it to the stage.”
He held her gaze for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically sober before it dissolved into a mock frown. “Now I know you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies. You’re starting to sound all sentimental, like them.”
She laughed and took his proffered arm as they made their way to the luncheon room.
They had paused at the threshold when a sudden sight sent a chill from Ellie’s neck all the way down to her feet.
On the far side of the room, near a set of tables set aside for the media, stood an unwelcome familiar pair. Drake Stephens, the reporter who’d taken the photos that led to her royal exile, and Maxim Tatem, Ellie’s ex-boyfriend who’d led the paparazzi to her.
After all the media coverage, interviews, and even a book from which Maxim had benefited, his popularity landed him a daily television spot. A placement that wasn’t as popular as it had once been.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, his voice low.
Ellie knew how to remain calm externally. Her family trained her for the careful control of a person in the spotlight, but Maxim and Drake’s presence brought her past and insecurities to the surface, rattling her new confidence.
“That man, in the navy suit and pale blue shirt.”
“Next to the guy in the crazy orange?”
Ellie almost grinned at Luke’s description of Drake. “Yes, him. The one in the orange is the man who took the photos of me on the yacht over three years ago.”
She didn’t need to clarify the type of photos those had been. Or what little she’d been wearing. At the time, in her wrong thinking and blind trust, she’d believed Maxim meant to protect her, to provide her privacy.
She’d been horribly wrong.
“And the man in the navy suit...”
“The scoundrel who set you up.” Luke’s tone rumbled low, threatening. Without a word, he placed a palm to her back, both calming and safe. “What’s he doing here?”
Luke’s presence, his touch, took a little of the sting out of Maxim’s presence. She wasn’t alone. The one time she’d seen Maxim after the photos and stories ruined her life, he’d looked at her with such arrogance and self-conceit.
