Читать книгу The Prince's Bride - Lisa Laurel Kaye - Страница 10

Alone in her tower room, the highest point in the castle, Julie looked at her hair with satisfaction. The style was cool and sophisticated, which was exactly the image she wanted to project tonight at the ball. Especially to herself.

She knew one thing as perfectly as she knew her own name: any silly hopes she had for renewing that old spark she’d felt with Prince Erik were now dead and buried.

Granted, the news of his engagement had taken her by surprise at first, but the real surprise was that it had taken him this long to surrender his status as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. He was not only crown prince of Isle Anders, he was handsome, he was intelligent, and his integrity was unparalleled. He would be a good husband to the woman he had chosen. Julie wished them well.

As for that powerful feeling she had felt with him, whatever it was it obviously meant nothing if he hadn’t felt it, too. He might not even recognize her after all these years, and there was no reason to believe that he would remember a long-ago evening that he, at the time, had taken pains to prove hadn’t meant anything to him. Julie sure hoped he didn’t remember—her own memory of it was embarrassing enough. But even if he did, she had no fear that he would make any reference to it. His sense of honor was as strong as his sense of duty.

Erik belonged to someone else, but he wasn’t going to be the only man at the ball, she reminded herself as she put on the blue dress Annah had pressed for her. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror and gave a little rueful grin at the fanciful imaginings that had dwelt deep within her for so long.

This was the perfect dress to wear to dance on the grave of her silly dreams.

Erik stood in the ballroom doorway, looking into the cavernous stone-walled room that would in less than an hour be the setting for a royal ball, a ball people were paying fabulous amounts of money to the king’s favorite charity in order to attend.

He had expected austere dignity, but what he found was a close approximation of bedlam. People carrying flowers were running back and forth, dodging others toting tables and chairs. The decorative fountain had run amok, and a group of people armed with towels were mopping up the resultant river. The head of the wait staff was giving the food and drink servers their instructions, punctuated with wide sweeps of both hands. Security was restless, trying to school their expressions into placidity as they watched the hubbub in the room. From the kitchen came the unmistakable bellow of his father’s head chef, while the orchestra, ensconced on a makeshift stage in the front of the room, added to the chaos as it played snatches of songs for a sound check.

In the center of the swirl of activity stood Julie Brit-ton. He hadn’t seen her in years, but he would have recognized her anywhere. It was obvious that she was in charge—people kept running up to her to tell or ask her something. But she was regal and poised, by far the calmest person in the room. One encouraging word from her, and even the most frantic person left her looking confident. Maybe it was her hundred-watt smile or her obvious delight in the proceedings. Whatever it was, it was working miracles. As he watched, bedlam gradually subsided as the room transformed, surrounding Julie in beauty.

Certainly, Erik thought, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Not that the adjective did her justice, or had much to do with the fact that she was already in formal dress. Much more than outward appearance, Julie’s allure radiated from within. She was so vibrantly alive, and even from across the ballroom, the force of her appeal hit him harder than he was prepared for. It had been the same way one long-ago night; there was something about her that beckoned to him. Now, as then, he was so drawn that he found himself walking across the ballroom toward her.

Amid the frantic last-minute preparations, Julie sensed a movement that was out of place. A man was coming her way, and she didn’t need the discreet nod given him by the chief of security to know that the man was Prince Erik. The confusion around her continued, but as she focused on him, her awareness of all else ceased.

Reality exceeded memory. He topped six feet by an inch or two, and it looked as if all of his weight came from lean, trim muscle. He carried himself with regal assurance; moreover, he exuded an aura of intelligent confidence that suited his tough, rangy build. Crown prince or no, he obviously spent a good deal of time outdoors, because his dark blond hair was sun streaked against his tanned skin. His dark brown eyes still had no bottom that she could discern.

He stopped in front of her, as he had nine years before. Her eyes met his unfathomable gaze, completing a circuit like an electrical connection. Now, as then, an involuntary heightening of awareness nearly bowled her over, and the two moments linked across the span of years between them. Feeling it so strongly again, she knew why she had taken a risk back then—and knew with utter certainty that she had been right to do so.

For Erik, standing so close to Julie brought back vivid memories of her naive sensuality and refreshing honesty, and of the night they had almost been too much to resist. One dance with her had had him shirking his responsibilities, rushing outside to try to regain his equilibrium. But looking for peace of mind in a. spot of seclusion, he had found Julie instead. He had purposely misled her in refusing to admit that there was something between them. There had been, and that was precisely why he had backed off. Surrendering control to an unknown emotion, especially one that strong, was untenable for Erik.

Seeing her again, he was glad he’d found the strength to resist her. A woman who could make him feel like that was the wrong kind of woman for him. The years had proven him right.

With that conviction, he dismissed the past and gave her a polite, but impersonal, nod. “Hello, Julie,” he said.

His perfunctory greeting called her back to the present, back from the night she had danced with him under an endless sky and had wished on every star in the galaxy that he would feel what she had.

But the stars had had better things to do. Now he was marrying someone else, and she was older and infinitely wiser. Still, she realized how much easier it had been to handle the news of his engagement over the phone. Up close it was harder to think of wishing him well in marrying another woman. Luckily she had made her congratulations on the phone, so she got right down to business.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” she said formally. “What can I do for you?” It was helpful to remember that she was the employee. It was natural that he assign duties to her as he pleased, as he had occasionally done by mail and fax since the king’s illness.

“After speaking with you, I made arrangements to have cameras set up in here to simulcast the ball, in-eluding the announcement, in my father’s hospital room.”

“You don’t think the news will be too much of a shock for him?” Julie asked, concerned.

“My finally getting engaged will doubtless be a shock,” Erik said dryly. “However, since it will be of a pleasant variety, his doctor has given full approval.” He paused. “The camera crew will arrive any minute, and I’ve given them incentive to set up quickly. I hope they won’t cause you any problems.”

She gave him a confident smile. “None I can’t handle.”

“Good,” he said briskly. “Has Roberta arrived?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Then she must not be here. I told her to seek you out if she arrived before I did.”

“Now that you are here,” Julie said with a smile, “I am sure that you will be the first to know of her arrival.”

“I doubt that,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I will be quite busy with a number of things I have to do before the ball. Please keep me posted on her arrival.”

“Of course.” Apparently he was no romantic, who would spend the wait pacing the floor in anticipation of the arrival of his lady love.

“I’d also like a room to be prepared for her. It will be expected that she, as my fiancée, will be a guest here in the castle.”

Julie thought that was a funny way of putting it. Didn’t he want to be with her?

“She can have the bedroom at the top of the stairs,” Erik went on. “I’ll take the tower room that adjoins it”

Julie didn’t say anything.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, Your Highness,” Julie said. “I have been living in the tower room, but I’ll move my things out”.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to put you out The two adjoining bedrooms in the north hall will serve my purpose just as well.”

“I can move. It’s—”

“I insist,” Erik said simply.

Julie gave in. He had an air of quiet command that he wore well, she thought. He would make a good leader.

“As you wish,” she said. “Is there anything else?

Would you like to inspect the kitchen, take a quick tour of the grounds, see the list of—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s obvious that you are doing a fine job pulling things together. If I can trust you with the secret of my engagement, I can certainly trust you with the details of the evening.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a few details of my own to take care of now. Until later, Julie,” he said, and departed.

Erik entered the library and closed the door behind him. It would be quiet enough in here to finish up the paperwork that he would have to get to Whit, now that his brother would be taking over for him on Isle Anders. The king had insisted that Erik stay at Anders Point for a while and take on Whit’s public relations duties. His father knew Erik preferred doing the king’s domestic duties, the nuts-and-bolts work of running the country, far better than the international schmoozing Whit excelled at. Erik suspected that the king, by changing his duties, was trying to pressure him to choose a bride. He hated this whole arrangement, but had reason to hope that it would only be temporary, and it paled in comparison to his fear for the king’s health.

Concern about his father’s recovery had been gnawing at Erik, but he was not a worrier, he was a doer. The scene at the hospital that morning had sealed his decision. It was time to get on with the matter of securing the succession. The actual marriage didn’t have to take place until right before his coronation, but if Erik were engaged in the meantime, it might allay his father’s concerns so that he could recover. To accomplish that, Erik would do anything in his power.

He had had an understanding with Roberta for quite some time. After all, he had known all along that eventually he would have to choose a bride. For a number of reasons, he felt she would be suitable. She was not from Isle Anders, but that was not an issue; his father had himself married a girl from Maine. Erik had known Roberta for a long time. His father thought highly of her, as did everyone who knew her. She carried herself well in public and would be able to perform all the duties that went along with being queen someday.

Her manners were refined, impeccable. She wouldn’t cause him public embarrassment of any kind. Heiress to a multimillion-dollar fortune, she nevertheless stayed out of the headlines. Sophisticated and polished, she had the background and social graces to be the kind of hostess he would need for state dinners and other events. Cautious and restrained, she took life as it came, instead of rushing headlong out to meet it. With her he would find steady reliability, not breathless excitement.

Best of all, she was no more in love with him than he was with her, which made possible the only kind of marriage that he would consider—a marriage for duty. She had been in love, unrequited love, with a scoundrel who had strung her along mercilessly for years. But she had finally given up her vain hopes of marrying him. This morning she had accepted Erik’s proposal and his terms for their marriage. And once she had agreed, he had no doubt that she would do her duty, as he was doing his. She was a woman of her word.

As far as expediting the matter went, circumstances were in his favor. The ball would be the perfect place to take care of this business, although the announcement was a necessary evil as far as Erik was concerned.

He was by nature a private man. But the fact that he would publicly plight his troth would assure the king he meant business; and that, Erik hoped, would speed his father’s recovery.

After making a final check on the camera crew, Erik went up to his room to dress. Before he went downstairs, he placed a call.

“The king is unavailable,” the head nurse in his private wing informed Erik. “He’s resting up.”

“Is everything in place there?”

“All hooked up, they tell me,” she said.

“What did you tell the king?”

“Just what you told me to tell him, Your Highness. That you hoped he would enjoy watching the ball, even though he couldn’t attend, and that you were going to make an announcement at midnight that you thought he would be interested in.”

“Good. Now there’s just one more thing I’d like you to do.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s watching,” she promised.

Naturally Erik looked spectacular in a tux.

Julie greeted him when he came down the stairs. “I just want to make you aware, Your Highness, that the rumors are flying,” she said.

“Rumors?”

“That you will be announcing your engagement tonight.”

He swore under his breath, then apologized for it. “Where did you hear that?”

Julie pointed to the media crews gathered outside on the front lawn. The king allowed them limited access to the ball, in order to raise awareness for his charity.

And besides, most of those in attendance loved the exposure, not to mention the excitement and glamour of flash bulbs exploding in their faces as they got out of their limos.

Erik’s expression was grim. “How did they find out?”

“I don’t know,” Julie said, a little defensively.

“I didn’t mean that I thought you told them,” he said, impatiently. “I told you I trusted you.”

“At any rate, the rumors have reached your father,” she told him. “He called to ask me if I knew who his future daughter-in-law was.”

“And?”

“I told him that if you hadn’t told him yourself, it must not be any of his business,” Julie said simply.

She looked at Erik’s expression and couldn’t help smiling. “You don’t have to look so relieved. I thought you trusted me.”

“Looks like I had good reason to,” he said, giving her one of his rare smiles. “And the best part of it is, you didn’t even lie to him.”

“No, but I think he could tell I was dodging. The king knows I’d make a lousy liar.”

Outside, the first limousine drove up to the front entryway. “Did you decide where you will be receiving guests?” she asked him.

“Where you suggested, inside the ballroom.”

“I’ll make security aware of the expected traffic flow.”

“Fine,” he said. “By the way, I’m impressed with the way everything has fallen into place so smoothly, Julie.”

“Just doing my job, Your Highness.”

“If your jaw were clenched any tighter, Your Highness, the muscles in your cheeks would explode.”

Erik didn’t have to turn around to know who spoke. Gustave had been his father’s chef for years, and he had all the familiarity of a long-time employee who was a de facto member of the family. Gustave always managed to appear at these occasions as a guest, even though he was in charge of the food.

“Just doing my job as host. Making sure everyone is having a good time,” Erik said, eyes on the crowded ballroom before him.

“Especially the lovely mademoiselle in blue, I see.” Although born on Isle Anders, Gustave was half French, a circumstance that flavored both his cooking and his speech.

He was observant, too. Erik had been watching Julie all night. And he wasn’t the only one. It came as no surprise to him that the eyes of some of the top connoisseurs in the world of women had glazed over when she walked into the ballroom.

“She has done a fine job,” Erik said, choosing safe ground. “As for her appearance, she does much credit to the king by her manner of poise and restraint”.

“Ah, yes, I have often myself been struck by her level of poise and restraint,” Gustave said with a chuckle. Erik wondered what the chef found so amusing, but became distracted when he saw a duke with a reputation for shameless philandering trying to wheedle Julie onto the dance floor. A duke who, in the receiving line, had asked him who the luscious babe in blue was. It had taken all of Erik’s restraint to give him a civilized, stony stare, when what he wanted to do was take him outside and wipe the leer from his face.

It was requiring even more restraint to watch the man flirt with her now. It wasn’t the first time Erik had felt protective toward Julie. He could have kissed her that night nine years ago, like she’d wanted him to—hell, like he’d wanted to. But it wouldn’t have been fair to leave her with a memory like that, young and vulnerable as she was. He had rejected her, but at least he had tried to be gentle as well as firm about it. And seeing her again, all grown up, and obviously over him, he realized that he must have handled the matter well. As much as Erik’s instincts still made him want to protect Julie, reason told him he had no right to. Even if he weren’t a soon-to-be engaged man.

A waiter, wending his way through the crowd, offered them champagne from his tray. Gustave took a glass and, watching the duke, asked Erik idly, “Isn’t this where the prince rescues the fair damsel from the dragon?"

Erik, who had no taste for champagne, waved the waiter away. “Where have you been, my friend? Fair damsels can take care of themselves these days,” he said, as much for his own benefit as for Gustave’s. As if on cue, Julie went her way alone, leaving behind a crestfallen duke.

“A pity,” Gustave observed. “It gave you young princes something to do.”

Erik looked at Julie for the hundredth time since he’d arrived that afternoon. She carried herself with a refined grace that made her look right at home in the elegance that surrounded her. Her brown hair, swept off her bare shoulders into a smooth, sophisticated style, shone with gold and copper highlights. She wore a tasteful amount of makeup that played up her features but didn’t hide the scattered freckles he remembered, and those only enhanced the glow of her skin. Curvy in her evening dress, she seemed sexy without meaning to be; but those long legs of hers would show to advantage no matter what she wore—or didn’t wear.

Gustave’s low voice intruded on his thoughts, which were taking a dangerous turn. “It looks like she is going to the serving tables. Would you like to join her, Your Highness? The food is excellent. I can vouch for it.”

At that, Erik smiled. “I’m sure you can. Maybe later, Gustave.”

“Ah, and maybe later the young lady will be dancing. She turned down the duke, but she will accept my offer. I am a grandfather, and dancing with me will be no threat to a lovely young mademoiselle,” Gustave said, gliding away. “Of course, it will be no thrill, either. Unlike a dance with the prince.”

Erik watched him disappear into the crowd. As host, it was his duty to dance with as many of the women in attendance as possible. But he wouldn’t dance with Julie. He had danced with her nine years ago and had felt things that he didn’t think were decent for a grown man of twenty-one to feel toward a girl of sixteen. Even worse, he had felt something much deeper than lust. Now she was of age, and he was about to be safely engaged—but he still had no intention of challenging what he had battled to overcome at twenty-one.

Julie was seating herself at one of the tiny tables set in one corner of the room, among an attractive grouping of large plants and the formerly recalcitrant fountain, which now bubbled obediently. Laughing at something a man at the next table said to her, she took a delicate bite of food, then a sip of champagne. Suddenly she glanced up, right at Erik. Caught staring, he looked guiltily away, then cursed himself both for staring at her in the first place and for having such a damn fool reaction to being caught.

Impatiently he looked toward the entrance. Surely Roberta should have been here by now. The camera crew was busy filming the ball. He had told them to expect that his surprise announcement would take place at midnight.

Not that it was going to be much of a surprise anymore, and that was all right. People were probably speculating as to his choice, and Roberta’s name should be at the top of most people’s list. They had dated casually for years, on and off. It had worked well because neither had expected anything from the other. She because she was in love with another man, he because he had no desire to love or be loved by any woman.

Now he was expecting a lot of her. And he was confident that she would give it. He trusted her. She would show.

Julie, alerted by the kitchen staff of the persistent ringing of the castle’s private line, had gone into the library to answer the phone. When she hung up a few minutes later, she felt countless emotions churning deep inside her. The one that surfaced was dread.

She had to find Erik. Hurrying out of the room, she hoped she wasn’t too late.

He hadn’t been in the ballroom when the phone call came in, so she searched the other downstairs rooms first, with no luck. Trying to appear calm, though her heart was hammering, she decided to try the ballroom again.

She found him in a corner, talking to a group of men. As Julie approached, she heard one of them ask, “Is it true that you are announcing your engagement, old boy?”

The man took Erik’s silence as affirmation, and prodded further. “Who’s the lucky woman?"

If Erik had been inclined to answer, he didn’t have a chance.

“I am.” Julie pushed her way into the group and took Erik by the arm. “At least, for one dance. Don’t you remember you promised to dance with me?” she asked, looking pleadingly at Erik.