Page 18 of Everything But the Earl
“Yes, once, and my impression is that he is just as ridiculous as the cartoons in the illustrated newspapers would have you believe. He is…well, he is a very large man. He likes to parade around in what look like military uniforms, although he has never served in any military capacity that I am aware of. And he is constantly asking Parliament for money to build new houses or buy art or whatever his whims dictate, as if he does not have enough.”
“I’ve never met anyone royal. Well, I saw Princess Charlotte from a distance at my debutante ball. She was…well, lovely is the wrong word.”
Owen chuckled. “Indeed.”
“I hate to say such things. You think of princesses as they are in fairy tales. Beautiful, graceful. Charlotte is…she is short. Her nose is too big for her face. Her clothes were beautiful, and she has a lovely smile, but…”
“I know.”
“My mother gave me this book, translated from the German.Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Do you know it?”
“I know of it. I have not read it.”
“They collected these folktales and published an anthology of them, and my favorites were about the princesses. In those stories, terrible things often happen to them, but they are always the most beautiful women, and the princes in those stories fall irrevocably in love with them. Often it is up to the prince to save them, in fact.”
“I would not have taken you as being fond of a damsel in distress narrative.”
“I am not, as such. That is, women should be able to make their own way in the world, although I am not so naive as to think that is possible with our current laws and customs, which is how I came to bein a carriage with my brand-new husband. But I am fond of the love stories. That is, in a story like ‘Cinderella,’ this girl has basically been forced to act as a maid for her evil stepmother, and she toils with little complaint, and then some magic occurs and she meets a prince. He is handsome, too, that is the key to these stories. Always the most beautiful people. A number of things happen in the story, but in the end, the prince takes Cinderella away from her wicked stepmother and they live happily ever after. That is what I like about that story.” Grace sighed, thinking of the first time she’d read the tale, and how satisfying the ending was. “However, my point was just that, in these stories, the royalty are often the kindest, most beautiful people, but our royalty is…not that.”
“It certainly is not. Then again, they aren’t all bad. I have heard that King George is even rather kind and thoughtful when he is of sound mind. But they are not royals because they possess any innate qualities. They are royals because they were born into the royal family.”
“Yes, of course.”
The carriage hit another rut in the road. Grace did not fly as far this time. She reached out for balance, and her hand landed on Owen’s knee. She looked up and met his gaze. He gave her a soft smile, and then put his hand over hers. They both wore gloves, but Grace appreciated the gesture. He was trying to make her feel comfortable.
She said, “I will say, talking with you feels easy. It is the rest of it that makes me nervous.”
Owen looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
Eventually, he said, “For now, we just need to speak. It is a few hours ride to Oxford, and we are, unfortunately, still in London.”
Grace settled into her seat. “I feel so foolish.”
“Why?”
“Because married couples who know each other even less wellthan we do have managed to get married and…have relations…since the beginning of time. I feel like nothing anyone has told me has prepared me for this. And I like you! And yet…”
Owen nodded. “I think I understand. Well, try not to worry too much. Most of…relations, as you put it, is instinctual. You more or less do what feels right in the moment.”
“Do you have much experience with women?”
Owen hesitated. “Some, yes. I don’t know if ‘much’ is accurate.”
“I suppose all men do. I am not jealous, to be clear. I was just hoping one of us would know what to do.”
Owen barked out a surprised laugh. “Yes, I suppose that would be helpful.”
“Because if I knew nothing and you knew nothing, we’d just be two people who knew nothing, fumbling around in the dark.”
Owen started genuinely laughing then. Grace laughed with him, a bit caught up in the mental image of two naked people flailing, not knowing what to do.
“I can assure you, I know exactly what to do,” Owen said.
He surged toward Grace and claimed her lips, kissing her deeply and cupping her cheek in his hand.
Grace felt overwhelmed. Her body went hot everywhere. She imagined there was a red flush spreading across her skin.
Tentatively, she reached over and touched his shoulder. The simple wool coat was soft and expensive, and she ran her hand over the fabric. Which meant she was touching his shoulder, his chest, the top of his back, the back of his neck.
