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“No press inside?”
“I didn’t think of that… maybe. Still, those would be more serious journalists. Surely they wouldn’t care about the list thing.”
“Denial. Table for two. Don’t be naïve, Ian. You’ve won a major award. You’re meeting the queen. Tonight’s ceremony is big news. If you’re smart, you’ll have a sound bite ready.”
“Maybe I should hire you as my communications director.”
“Not in a million years. I’m an introvert, remember? The only difference between me and you is that I’m a nobody, and I like it that way.”
“Very funny.”
* * *
Bella wasn’t joking, not really. She was definitely glad that Ian was the one who had to handle the limelight. Her role was to sit in the background until he wanted to use her as arm candy in his quest to get off the bachelor list.
All else aside, she was deeply moved to be entering the grounds of the famous castle. Nothing in the good old USA could compare to the centuries of history on this side of the ocean. In her head she tried to name the men and women who had walked the halls of Holyrood. The roster was staggering.
Their car pulled around in front of the castle and joined the queue waiting to enter. Palace guards flanked both side of the massive, ornate gates. At last, it was Ian and Bella’s turn. They presented their credentials and were waved through. Moments later, the driver deposited them in front of a doorway where men and women dressed in formal wear made their way inside the palace.
Ian helped Bella out of the car. “Some other time if you’re visiting Finley, you should come back to Edinburgh and see all of Holyrood when it’s open to the public. The gardens are stunning, and as a history buff, you would enjoy the narrated tour.” He paused just before they stepped inside. “That section to our left is the ruins of the original abbey.”
Bella tried not to act like a country bumpkin in the big city as she was escorted through the entrance. She was actually standing inside a palace. Everywhere she looked, incredible artwork and architectural details jumped out at her. Soon, pleasant men and women in matching clothing, ushers presumably, began handing out thick vellum programs and seating the guests. Bella was lucky. Her gilt chair was at the end of a row with a clear view of the dais and the semicircle of seats where the honorees were assigned.
She squeezed Ian’s hand. “Try to enjoy yourself,” she said. “This is a night to remember.”
He squared his shoulders, but managed a tight grin. “That’s the way somebody described the Titanic’s fate, isn’t it?”
“You’re a riot. Go on,” she said. “And don’t be a smart ass. I’ll see you afterward.”
While she waited for the remainder of the attendees to be seated, she flipped through the very formal program which included a condensed history of the palace. Mary, Queen of Scots, was one of Holyrood’s most famous residents. Queen Victoria was very fond of the Scottish palace as well. Tonight’s assemblage was seated in the largest room in the castle, the Great Gallery.
The ceremony commenced at the stroke of seven. The program was long but fascinating, beginning with music from a stringed ensemble that included a massive harp. After that, a series of introductions and welcome to dignitaries. At last, it was time for the awards.
The expertise of the dozen recipients ran the gamut from medicine to the performing arts to philanthropy and various fields of science. Only one person was not present, because he was in Africa dealing with refugee issues. The honorees were listed alphabetically in the program, thus placing Ian squarely in the middle. Bella waited impatiently as the first five had their moment in the sun. Then it was Ian’s turn.
The queen looked diminutive standing alongside Ian. She spoke with charm and dignity about his accomplishments. Then on cue, he bent his head and she placed the beribboned medallion around his neck.
Bella had applauded dutifully after each award was presented, but this time was different. This one was personal. She beamed as Ian returned to his seat. At the last moment before he sat down, his gaze caught hers across the distance separating them. His head gave a quick bob. He was glad she was there.
It was enough for the moment.
At the conclusion of the festivities, the crowd adjourned to the far end of the Great Gallery, but the movement was carefully orchestrated. Beautifully presented hors d’oeuvres on silver trays were spread out on a succession of linen-draped tables. Two champagne fountains, both silver and undoubtedly antiques, served the thirsty guests.
Bella wanted to make her way to Ian, but he was surrounded by well-wishers. In the meantime, she grabbed a glass of bubbly so she would have something to do with her hands. Her small black evening purse hung from a narrow strap over her shoulder.
With time to kill while Ian did his thing, she studied the enormous room with interest. Its signature feature was the collection of paintings encircling the gallery, one hundred and ten in all, documenting the monarchs of Scotland going all the way back to Fergus I in 300BC. The royal highnesses were a motley crew. Young and old. Hearty and sickly. Male and female. Not all of them had lived here, of course. The palace was not built until the sixteenth century.
Her interest in the past waned abruptly when a warm male hand grasped her elbow. “Finally,” Ian said. “I’ve been trying to get close to you for half an hour. Do you want to grab some food?”
They decided to share one plate of hors d’oeuvres. He fed her strawberries and laughed when her chin ended up covered in juice. Primly, she dabbed herself clean with a napkin. “You acquitted yourself admirably with the queen, Mr. Larrimore. Nicely done.”
“Thank God I didn’t have to say much.” He took a sip of her champagne without asking. The casual intimacy of the moment made her stomach curl in a good way.
Handsome seemed a nondescript word to describe him. The classic lines of his profile were ruggedly masculine. Though tailored for his tall frame, the tuxedo seemed almost straining to accommodate the width of his shoulders.
Unfortunately, their intimate tête-à tête lasted barely more than ten minutes. One of the award committee members commandeered Ian and led him away. Moments later, Bella’s mouth fell open when she saw Prince Harry conversing with her date.
The invited press in the room were quick to notice the unique opportunity. Bachelor #1 and Bachelor #2, side by side. Photo ops didn’t get any better than that. Fortunately, Ian hadn’t noticed the cameras yet. The photographers were subtle in their attentions.
