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“Yes,” she said. “Thank you, your highness.”
“We talked about this. It’s Alex. You’re practically family.” He gave her a squeeze on the shoulder.
Behind Alex, Leo’s breath caught. Perhaps it was the physical exertion of lifting her suitcase, but there it was again. The thing.
Leo swallowed. The bob of the projection on his neck was even more pronounced. It looked like he couldn’t dispose of whatever it was he was trying to get rid of.
“Don’t be flattered by my brother’s overtures,” said Leo. “Anyone who feeds him he considers family.”
“If that were true, then I’m likely to marry our Chef Jan here.”
Jan cringed at the thought. For a second, Alex actually looked taken aback, as though he couldn’t fathom any woman not dying to be his princess. If ever there was such a woman, it would be Jan. She had no plans to ever don a veil again after her first and only disaster with matrimony.
Leo chuckled at Jan’s grimace. When he did, his breath touched Esme’s nose. Now it was Esme’s turn to swallow. Unlike Leo, she gulped the taste of him down.
Leo watched the movement of Esme’s lips. Esme could’ve sworn she saw him grit his teeth. It didn’t look like annoyance. It looked like desperation.
He didn’t want to be attracted to her. It was classic Jane Austen. She was Elizabeth, and he was Mr. Darcy. Finally, she knew how the story was supposed to go. Esme breathed a sigh of relief which was stunted by the clearing of a throat.
“Your majesty, your highness.” Giles looked at them from the back of the plane. “We’ll be taking off soon. Best to take your seats.”
Giles made a sweeping motion to the back of the plane where the royal party sat. There had been a curtain there, but it was swept aside. It was first class in reverse.
“Ms. Picket?” Penelope appeared through the curtain. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
The child smiled wide, but she kept her hands together in front of her. Esme couldn’t shake that the girl looked like a miniature version of an adult in her cardigan and pale dress. This late in the day, she was still perfectly put together, not a hair out of place.
“I am too.” Esme smiled. “I’d love to present to you my best friend, Jan Peppers. She’s a baker.”
“She must be excellent at fractions,” quipped Princess Penelope.
“Indeed, she is.”
“Perhaps we can bake together?” said Penelope.
“I’d like that,” Jan replied.
“I wouldn’t want her to get in the way,” said Leo.
“She wouldn’t be in the way at all,” said Jan. “Little helpers have the best hands. Maybe you can help us? As a child, you must get to eat lots of pastries. I’d love to hear about your favorite Cordovian pastries to help me prepare for the pie making competition.”
“We’re about to take off,” Giles said. “The princess needs to take her seat.”
“Can’t I sit here with Ms. Pickett and her friend?” Princess Penelope looked to her father for permission.
“Your highness, your place is in here with the royal family,” said Giles. But he looked to Leo as he spoke.
Ouch. If she hadn’t sussed it out already, Esme pegged Giles as the villain of this particular tale. He might be armed with a scowl and a superior attitude, but Esme had hundreds of years of literature and dozens of animated musicals on her side.
Still, it stung, and she cast her gaze downward. That was the only reason she saw Leo’s fingers ball into fists. He didn’t swallow anything down this time. His voice was resonating and commanding.
“If the princess would like to spend her time learning math and entertaining our guests, then so be it.”
Leo chucked his daughter under the chin. Then he lifted his gaze to Esme. He opened his mouth. Then closed it and tried again. “Just let me know if she becomes a bother.”
“With such perfect manners, I doubt that’s even possible.”
With another glance at Esme’s lips, Leo turned his back and was gone. For now.
