While accurate, the titles were rather overwhelming! Roberta cast an anxious glance back at her family and then followed, with Antonia and the others behind her. The ballroom hushed as they entered, and it was as if she felt the pinpricks of the hundred eyes upon her, taking in her beautiful new dress and her elegant hairstyle. It was like the night she danced with Niki in front of everyone, but this time, she reminded herself that she deserved to be here. She might not be royal, but she was the daughter of a duke, an Ashton, an old established family, and her grandmother was the formidable Dowager Duchess of Grantham. Roberta lifted her chin proudly and looked toward what appeared to be a dais at the end of the room.
It felt like a long walk, and she couldn’t help but stare at thelarge, portly figure of the king, dressed in the latest fashion, with his hair pomaded and several medals pinned to his chest. But her gaze soon shifted to Niki at his side, straight and proud. He had chosen something less grand than the king, forgoing the usual satin breeches for pantaloons and a dark jacket over an embroidered waistcoat. He was staring back at her, and she suspected that behind his severe exterior, he was as nervous as she was.
Strangely, it helped to calm her.
When she reached the dais, she curtsied low. The king greeted her, and then Niki was holding her hand and raising her up. He had come down to her level, leaving the king alone, and she wasn’t sure whether that was strictly protocol, but it pleased her all the same.
“Roberta,” he murmured. “You look exquisite.”
“He is a lucky man indeed!” The king had his say as he smiled at the pair. “Love is grand and should be grasped with both hands at every opportunity.” From a man who had secretly married his twice-widowed, Catholic mistress against everyone’s wishes, Roberta suspected he knew what he was talking about.
“I present to you Lady Roberta Ashton and Prince Nikolai Lichtenberg,” the king continued, his face flushed, his voice raised. “Our newly engaged couple!”
There was a cheer and a round of applause.
“You must dance,” he added, clapping his hands. “Niki, I command you to dance with your fiancée.”
Niki gave a bow and then looked to Roberta. “Are you ready?” His expression was serious, his dark eyes intent, and his voice had dropped to an intimate murmur. Aware of the king’s interest, and everyone else in the room staring, she leaned in closer to him.
“I am very ready. Now, shall we dance, Niki?”
Obediently, Niki took her into his arms and began to dance. He was filled with exhilaration. It curled about him, enveloping him, and for a moment overcame all of his anxieties. A voice in his head, the voice of a child who could not believe his luck, told him that he was dancing before King George IV with the woman he had never quite forgotten, and they were engaged to be married. He wanted to remind himself that none of this wasreal. It was a veneer. A smoke screen behind which was the real reason she was here, but it didn’t seem to matter to this bubble of happiness floating around him. He still felt elated.
Niki’s life was full of the important decisions he made every day; he had been born to rule his small country and had long ago accepted and embraced his birthright. There had never been much time for personal matters, for the things that nourished his heart and soul and that took him away even briefly from the harsh facts of being a prince. But Roberta…she was someone who made him happy by simply being at his side.
That was the stark truth. He did not know what to make of it. He certainly did not want to delve into the whys and wherefores right now. He needed to concentrate so that he could remember every moment, every second. Yes, the situation was temporary, but he didn’t want to admit that. Just as he didn’t want to think about who was trying to kill him—if it was a stranger or one of his own family. He simply wanted to enjoy this precious moment while he could and store away the memory for when he couldn’t.
“Oh!” Roberta giggled, and he followed her gaze. “Who is that with Antonia?” There were others on the floor now, and he could see his brother Ernest dancing rather wildly with Roberta’s sister.
He frowned. “My brother Ernest.”
They were far too young, and surely this was forbidden. They should really be removed from the floor, and he almost beckoned to one of his men, but then he looked again at Roberta and saw how much pleasure this was giving her. So he said nothing, and his frown in his brother’s direction was mild enough to make Ernest grin.
Ernest turned away, and his mouth was opening and closing as he spoke to Antonia. Ernest always had something to say. He was also loved by all, and from the moment Niki had seen him in his crib, he had loved him too.
“Antonia mentioned she had met Ernest,” Roberta said, obviously wanting to ask questions but not wanting to say the wrong thing.
“He is my younger brother.” He met her eyes and added in a droll voice, “And probably my most annoying one.”
That made her laugh. “I have sisters who are very annoying. We are—” She stopped, glanced at him and away.
The music stopped, but neither of them moved. Niki knew he should bow and let her find her next partner, but he was damned if he was going to leave their conversation hanging like that. When the orchestra started up again, they began to dance once more.
Roberta gave him an uncertain glance but did not protest; in fact, she settled herself more comfortably in his arms.
“You know you can say whatever you wish to me,” he said quickly. He didn’t want her to censor her words, not with him, anyway, and not when they were alone. Every time she did that, he felt as if something remarkable had been taken away. “I want you to feel safe to speak your mind when we are together.”
Her eyes widened a little in surprise, but whatever she read in his expression seemed to reassure her. “I was going to say that we have a lot in common when it comes to our siblings. Not just the annoying part, but the—the illegitimate part too. Although you are the true heir to your country and your brothers are only half brothers, whereas my sisters are in the same boat as me. If we were ever in a boat, which we haven’t been. And despite our different mothers, Gabriel treats us as if we are his true family.”
Her words had become a bit tangled toward the end, but he got the gist of them.
“Families are complex,” he agreed. “There are times when we love and hate them in equal measure.”
She seemed to find this a little challenging but let it go. Instead, she asked curiously, “Are you close to your brothers? I ask because I am not ashamed to admit I do not love my sisters equally.”
“I think I am closer to Ernest than Karl, but it is different for me. I am the heir, the leader of my country, and they will never inherit the throne, so there will always be a distance between us. And perhaps even resentment.”
She looked at him again, and again, she seemed to think better of what she was going to say.
