Julia clapped her hands, and Anne kissed his cheek. Griffin gave a knowing smile, and Almoster stopped bouncing little Pedro to offer an enigmatic, almost friendly nod.
“Where is the lucky bride?” Anne looked at him strangely, as if she could find Beth in his bloody pockets.
Where indeed.
“She left me.”
Maxwell spilled his coffee, Julia’s hand flew to her mouth, and Anne’s gasp cut through the air. A baby’s startled wail broke the quiet, and Almoster’s expression would frighten a lesser man.
Griffin leaned forward with a frown. “Left you? What did you do to her?”
Boyd’s glare was sharp enough to cut, but before he could reply, Clara padded near, staring at him with her wide blue eyes.
“But Mamã, you told me the princess loved the beast and would marry him.”
Julia’s cheeks flushed. “Children these days, they... well, they hear things.”
Boyd’s chest twisted. She had said she loved him. Why would she leave if she loved him?
He sank into the nearest chair, his hands gripping the armrests as his guests watched him in a silence that felt heavier than the Douro’s winter mist. Julia and Anne exchanged a glance, their earlier amusement now tinged with something closer to pity. Griffin opened his mouth as if to say something but thought better of it, his frown deepening.
Almoster narrowed his eyes, his voice solemn. “Sometimes honor means leaving when it would be easier to stay.”
Leaving because of honor? That made no sense—unless... Boyd’s mind reeled, piecing together the moments he’d been too blind to see clearly. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter. He had given her no reassurances. He had assumed she would take his vow to marry her if he ruined her as enough. But it wasn’t.
Beth had left because she cared enough to give him a choice, to set him free of obligation.
Boyd’s breath caught in his chest. She hadn’t walked away for her pride. She had done it for him. To protect him from the weight of a promise he might not be ready to offer.
“She left me to take me off the hook.” The truth settled like an ache in his bones.
The daft, honorable lass. She’d walked away not because she didn’t love him, but because she did.
“Will the princess return?” Clara said, her gaze finding Boyd’s.
He pressed a hand to his temple, forcing down the gnawing doubt that rose in him. What if she won’t come back? He clenched his jaw, refusing to let the thought take root.
The room erupted into a buzz of suggestions, everyone speaking at once.
Julia clicked her tongue. “You have to speak to her. She is an intelligent, sensible girl. I’m sure she will listen to reason.”
Anne shook her head, lips pressed into a thoughtful line. “No, it calls for a grand, romantic gesture. Something heartfelt that will sweep her off her feet.”
Almoster voice rose above the dim of their well-meaning suggestions. “I have a cavalry regiment stationed in Peso da Régua. One wire from me, and we can stop her train. You’d have your bride back in time for Christmas lunch.”
Boyd shook his head. “I can’t win her that way. No more schemes. I’ll have to ask for her hand like a proper gentleman.” He owed it to her. Even if it meant facing her father.
Griffin slapped his back. “I know Croft well enough—I can handle that man. I’ll make him see reason if it comes to that.”
Boyd could only watch, torn between amusement and awe, as his friends plotted and planned.
Just as he opened his mouth to protest, a small voice piped up.
“Will he have to slay another dragon to bring Princess Beth back?” Clara asked, her face flushed with excitement.
Boyd narrowed his eyes. “Another?”
Julia pulled her daughter close with a chuckle, glancing at Boyd with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Why? Weren’t you and Beth slaying dragons last night? It sounded as if you had a full party of them upstairs.”
