Page 59 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“It is a fairy tale,” Augusta said. “No one is interested in the accounts.”

Of course he would interpret a fairy tale like that.

“The person responsible for the palace accounts would be very interested,” he shrugged his shoulders.

Sarah leaned closer to him, laughing as Ronan continued to explain that Cinderella’s glass slippers were unsuitable for dancing and that any sensible prince would have asked her name before allowing her to disappear.

“You are ruining the romance,” Augusta said. “He finds her again.”

“After searching the entire kingdom with a shoe, which could have been avoided through one ordinary conversation.”

Sarah laughed so hard that she dropped the sugared almond she had been holding, and when Ronan finally reached the scene where the slipper fitted Cinderella, he announced that the prince had at last completed the most inefficient courtship in recorded history.

Sarah scrambled across the small distance between them and threw her arms around him.

The movement caught Ronan completely unprepared.

For an instant, he remained rigid, while his hands hovered uncertainly at either side of the child. Then he wrapped both arms around her and drew her against his chest.

The change in him was so complete that Augusta forgot to look away.

His shoulders lowered, his expression softened, and the strain that usually seemed fixed around his mouth disappeared. He rested his cheek briefly against Sarah’s hair, while the girl remained curled against him and continued laughing into his shirt.

“You made the story silly,” Sarah said.

“The story was already silly,” Ronan replied, although his hand moved gently over her back.

“I like it when you read.”

Ronan became still again, but he did not release her. “Then I will read another,” he said.

Sarah shifted until she was sitting in his lap, and Ronan adjusted her carefully so that her head rested against his shoulder. Augusta handed him the next book without comment, although her heart had begun beating faster as she watched him turn the pages with one hand while the other remained securely around his daughter.

The second story was quieter, and Sarah’s laughter gradually faded into long, sleepy breaths. Ronan continued reading even after her eyes closed, his voice dropping lower as the fire settled behind them.

When he reached the end of the story, he looked down.

“She is asleep,” he said.

Augusta smiled. “She has been asleep for several pages.”

“Why did you not stop me?”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Ronan closed the book and sighed to himself.

“I suppose that took a lot more effort than I expected it to,” he nodded. “But she appeared happy at the end of it, which is what matters the most.”

His gaze met hers over Sarah’s head, and Augusta’s heartbeat quickened again.

Ronan did not answer, although his arm tightened slightly around the sleeping child.

The room became quiet, and Augusta suddenly did not know what to say. The plates of sweets remained half-finished beside them, and the fire made soft sounds in the grate, while Ronan sat close enough that she could see the dark shadow of hair beneath the open collar of his shirt.

Her eyes returned to the small triangle of skin at his throat, and she looked away at once.

“I spoke to the constable,” Ronan said.