Page 52 of The Duke Not Taken

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THEAFTERNOONAFTERthe ball, while servants cleaned the hall, and linens were washed and hung to dry, and the wilted flowers taken to the church yard to be distributed among the graves there, Lila met the princess to review the evening and the acquaintances she’d made.

She’d wanted to have tea so that she could casually go over her notes, but the princess was on the lawn in her plain brown gown and walking boots. So Lila tucked her leather notebook under her arm and went out to meet her. She was feeling good about things—Princess Amelia had laughed companionably with Mr. Beasley and had danced twice with Monsieur Archembeau. She’d met a host of other gentlemen, so if either of those two gentlemen were not to her exact liking, Lila still felt they’d had a promising start to the summer. She had no doubt that Amelia Ivanosen would be affianced by the time she returned to St. Edys.

She was convinced until the moment she saw the princess up close.

The woman was always impeccably turned out, but today she was sporting dark circles under her eyes. And she had not dressed her hair, letting it fall in a golden curtain down her back. She was holding a walking stick that she kept jabbing into the ground.

“Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness! It’s a glorious day, isn’t it?”

Princess Amelia hardly spared Lila a glance. “Je,it is.”

“Oh dear. Are you a bit under the weather?”

“What? No.” The princess looked at her curiously. “I am perfectly well. But I mean to walk. Will this take long?”

The princess’s patience for reviewing gentlemen had suffered a precipitous decline in the last week. It was remarkable—the woman who loved to be surrounded by gentlemen didn’t want to talk about them. “That depends on you,” Lila said. She gestured to a bench beneath an elm tree. “Shall we sit?”

The princess shrugged and walked to the bench, stabbing her walking stick into the ground with every other step.

“If I may,” Lila said, settling in beside her, “you do seem a bit out of sorts. Did you sleep well?”

“I’m a bit tired—it was half past two when I left the ball.”

“A pity that—the ball was still in full throes. I think the last guests departed at dawn.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” the princess said, settling against the back of the bench. “I heard the reverie all night.”

She was exhausted, that was all. Who could blame her? She’d been the center of attention all night, had danced almost every dance.

“May I ask you something?” the princess asked, twisting in her seat to face Lila. “Do you find me off-putting?”

“What an absurd question! Of course not.”

The princess rolled her eyes and settled back against the bench again. “I don’t believe you. I don’t even know why I asked.”

“I am sincere! Why would you ask such a thing?”

The princess shook her head.

Someone had said something to her. Something she probably had misconstrued. Her English was excellent, but every so often, she would misuse a word, or misinterpret one. “Did you...perhaps...say something that might have been perceived wrong?”

She gave a bitter laugh and looked heavenward. “I couldn’t say. It seems so much of what I say is perceived wrong. I’ve concluded that the English are easily offended.”

It seemed to Lila that most people were easily offended by one thing or another. Everyone had a cross to bear. “Did a gentleman—”

“No, nothing like that,” she said, and glanced away. “The gentlemen I’ve met are all quite proper and polite. Very eager to charm. What does it mean,cocksure?”

Lila laughed, but at the princess’s direct gaze, she sighed. No subtleties or innuendos for this lady. “It means...overly confident. A bit arrogant, perhaps.”

The princess nodded. “I suppose that describes me, then.”

Lila couldn’t imagine who had the gall to say such a thing to her. “I think it describes all of us at one time or another.”

The princess shrugged.

“Did one of the gentlemen suggest it?”

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