And yet I couldn’t shake a sense of sadness. I missed Nicky with a keen sharpness that surprised even me. I’d sent him a quick text before we left London to let him know that I was going away for the weekend with Daisy, although I was sure that the security officers would have let him know before then. He had responded with a simple and terseokay.
I hated where we were now. I hated that I felt frustrated by his lack of communication. I hated that I felt as though I had behaved immaturely during our conversation on the way home from the ceremony at the garden. And I hated that we had given each other the silent treatment for the hours between then and his departure for the stag night.
I thought about the months when we’d lived so far apart, on different continents with an ocean between us. In those days, I’d yearned for the ability to simply turn to him, to talk to him, no matter when it was or where we were. And now that we lived together, and I had everything I’d ever dreamed of, I was squandering it, and I couldn’t explain why. I wished that Nicky was at the party with me, that we could relax and enjoy ourselves and be what we’d always been: just Nicky and Ky, in love.
After dinner on Saturday, the Viscount and his wife threw an informal dance party, inviting several people from the nearby village to join us. A group of musicians who usually played the local pub on weekend nights had been enlisted to perform for us in the garden. Although the air was quite chilly, our hosts had set up portable heaters and strung fairy lights on the terraces attached to the house. There were small bistro tables scattered here and there, and wait staff passed drinks and small plates of foods.
I wasn’t sure I was in the mood for a party, but neither could I bring myself to be a wet blanket by making Daisy go by herself while I sulked in our room. So I put on a dress and my dancing shoes, the proverbial and the real, and joined her with the rest of the guests.
I was not surprised at all that even in this group, Daisy was still the life of the party. She danced with a number of the young men and even a few of the older ones. Daisy’s charm knew no boundaries, but she was also adept at being friendly and warm without appearing flirtatious or improper. I stood on the sidelines and watched her dance, smiling a little at her enjoyment of everything.
“Princess Daisy is quite something else, isn’t she?” The voice at my shoulder was low, making me jump in surprise. “She certainly is the life of the party.”
I turned, startled to see that the man speaking was standing so close to me. He wasn’t one of the guests I’d met; in fact, I didn’t recall seeing him before this moment.
“Sorry.” He smiled. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh, you didn’t. I don’t scare that easily.” The steel in my voice was partly thanks to my Palace training (how to deal with the public, parts one, two and three) and partly my own natural instinct to hold strangers at bay. I wrapped myself in the armor of aloofness and chill to let this guy know he was close to crossing a line, flirting with being too familiar.
But it seemed this man was one of those people who didn’t get the message—or maybe he was choosing to ignore it. He grinned wider and stuck out his hand to me.
“I’m Scott Gorman. My mate lives in the village here, and he was invited tonight. Since I’m staying with him for a bit, I came along, too.”
Now a warning bell was sounding faintly in my head. When we were on official engagements, all of the guests and staff of wherever we went were carefully vetted. But this weekend wasn’t official. However, while my attendance had been impulsive and last-minute in nature, Daisy’s wasn’t ... which meant that security and precautions should have already been in place.
But if this guest had come along with a friend, it was possible that no one even knew he was here. It was conceivable that he’d slipped in with the rest of the group of locals. I hadn’t noticed anyone checking invitations at the door; this was a very informal gathering.
And ... something felt off. While I was certainly the least of all people to be a stickler when it came to the finer points of royal etiquette, I was well aware that it was basic protocol to observe some recognition and deference when meeting a member of the Royal Family, particular those of us styled with the Royal Highness title. One simply did not approach without an introduction, and even after that, a handshake wasn’t quite the thing unless it was initiated by the royal personage.
Taking all of that into consideration, I made a split-second choice to ignore the hand Mr. Gorman was still holding out to me. Instead, I took another small step backward and inclined my head ever so slightly.
“Mr. Gorman, how lovely that you were able to take advantage of a friendship and join us tonight.” On the surface, what I said was innocuous, but I hoped he was reading my underlying message, which was a basicback offcommand. I tried to channel a combination of Lady Marjorie, who’d been my palace liaison and instructor on all things royal during my engagement period, Princess Alexandra, who despite her natural warmth, was so adept at freezing out those who came too close, and the Queen, who had long ago mastered the expression of bemused disbelief and astonishment.
But the man I was dealing with was either oblivious or intentionally dense. “Oh, yeah, when I heard Princess Daisy was going to be here, I knew I couldn’t miss this party. And then I get here and see that not one, but two members of the big family are here.” His gaze roved down me, making me feel uncomfortable and exposed even in my very modest and simple dress. “I figured you being American and all, you’ve got to be more like a real person than the others. Right? No bowing and scraping for you? I read somewhere you’re a girl who likes to get her hands dirty.”
My heart was beginning to pound. There was more than just blissful ignorance of manners and rules here. The double entendre went beyond that.
“I assume you’re referring to my work in community gardens.” I swallowed hard and glanced over my shoulder. Daisy was still dancing, laughing at something her partner had said. She wasn’t looking my way at all, despite the mental pleas I was sending her. “Growing food is a passion of mine. Actually, I enjoy working with plants of all sorts, but there is something special about seeing a small sprout eventually produce something—fruit or vegetable—that can nourish us.”
Gorman’s eyes glittered. “Crazy, isn’t it, how something can start out small, and then end up becoming so big.”
I raised one eyebrow. I was doing my best to give the man the benefit of the doubt, but now I was certain he was being provocative on purpose. “Small seeds can produce big change. That’s one of the hallmarks of the work Prince Nicholas and I are doing.” I latched onto Nicky’s name both as a way to remind Gorman that I was married to a prince and to anchor myself again in the comforting thought of my husband’s love.
“Yes, you’re both all aboutchange, aren’t you?” He moved a bit closer to me again, and I felt trapped. If I stepped back anymore, I’d be on the dance floor. “You think everyone in the world is going to love your big ideas for all that change. But you don’t think about how all that lovelychangeis going to mess up life for other people. Have you considered the jobs that will be lost? The cost of all that precious change that’s passed on to the farmers who can’t afford a decent life as it is? No, you and your tree-hugger sort just go along blithely with your big ideas. As long as it makes you look good, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
The vehemence in his tone threw me from alarm into real panic. This wasn’t a matter of a guy crashing a party. He might’ve come here tonight as a lark, to be able to say he’d hung out with Princess Daisy, but my presence had clearly offered him an opportunity for something more.
“I—” I began to speak, but before I got very far, Gorman grabbed my arm.
“I think we should continue this conversation on the dance floor, don’t you, Princess Ky?” His voice was mocking now, all pretense of friendly enthusiasm dropped. “You wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would you?”
Shrugging off his hand, I drew myself up to my full height and unleashed the full power of a furious glare. “If you think I’d allowcausing a sceneto stop me from anything, you haven’t done your homework. Now get the hell away from me before I scream bloody murder and have you hauled out of here in handcuffs.”
A note of mild surprise flared on Gorman’s face. “Feisty, are we?” he murmured. “That’s something good to know. That’s something we’ll keep in mind moving forward. Personally, I prefer a bit of fight in my women.”
“Your Royal Highness.”
I had never before been so glad to hear Simon West’s voice. He stood next to me now, his shoulder inches from mine, his presence looming over both Scott Gorman and me. Although he wasn’t touching me at all, I immediately knew I was safe.
