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“I can’t imagine you’d have anything but glowing things to say about him. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
William winced.
She was antagonized by his wince and sat up, too. “Do you know he brought me flowers the first time he came? Not like Aggiani, but a handpicked bouquet tied with a lovely ribbon. We’ve talked about books and music. He sang while I played the piano. He has a beautiful singing voice.”
William looked confused. “Is that what you want? Someone who will pick flowers and sing to you?”
Was that what she wanted? It at least seemed like a start. “Of course that is what I want. Doesn’t everyone want that? Doesn’t it sound lovely even to your jaded ears to be tied for the rest of your life to someone with like interests? Or perhaps you have something against flowers and singing?”
“I happen to enjoy both greatly. I am very much in favor of flowers and art and dogs. Those are interests I sincerely share with you. I even like books, Justine.”
“His interests are sincere, too!” she insisted. Mr. Ashley had been a model of civility and chivalry. And if he’d just come back to the box, he could prove it himself to William. “What is the matter with you? I thought you wanted nothing more than to see me happily affianced so that you could be done with the loathsome task of being my friend.”
“You know very well it is no’ a loathsome task, and quite honestly, I’ve come to enjoy it very much. I do indeed want to see you happy, Justine, more than you know. Which is why I am telling you you’ll no’ be happy with him. I speak from personal experience.”
Justine felt a presence beside her. She turned, all smiles, certain it was Mr. Ashley. But it was Lady Bardaline, her eyes bright and her ears pointed in Justine’s direction. The others were beginning to filter back into the box, too, still talking, standing about before it was time to take their seats.
Justine leaned closer to William so that she could whisper. “Do you think that perhaps you are jealous?”
He stared at her. Then he leaned closer, too, and whispered, “I will never, to my dying breath, be jealous of a reprobate. Mark my words. He will attempt to take liberties with you, and if you still marry him, he will have a string of mistresses that reach a mile long.”
She sincerely wished his breath wasn’t so warm against her skin, didn’t tickle her. “You’re wretched.” And then she laughed. Loudly. So that Lady Bardaline would hear her. Even the dowager duchess heard her. They would not see how perturbed she was with William at this moment.
William laughed heartily, too, then leaned in again. “I see you donna believe me. Again.”
“I donot,” she whispered fiercely. “The first time you were lucky. The second time you are jealous.”
He shifted in his seat, coming very close, practically facing her. “Allow me to hazard a guess of his attention to you. He flatters you endlessly. Your eyes are like polished gold,” he said, his lashes fluttering when he looked directly in her eyes.
Justine clucked her tongue. But Mr. Ashley had said something like that. He said her gown this evening was the only thing that could possibly do justice to the golden color of her eyes.
“You are so well-read he feels inferior in his education.”
She stared hard at William. Mr. Ashley hadn’t said thoseprecisewords, but he had wondered aloud how any gentleman could compete with the education of a crown princess.
William’s gaze shifted to her mouth. “You are a woman who would inspire a man to love you.”
A thread of vibration began to make its way up her spine. Mr. Ashley had said he couldn’t fathom how lucky a gentleman would be to wed someone as elegant and poised as she, how proud he would be to have her on his arm.
William saw her hesitation and arched a brow. “That your beauty is beyond compare?”
She snorted. “He never saidthat.”
“Then he’s a bigger fool than I thought.”
“It is obvious he admires me.”
“Is it? Because I admire those things in you and more. But I donna say them to gain your favor, Justine. I say them because I believe them.”
The flutter in her belly moved to her heart. She was aware that people were taking their seats in anticipation of the third act, but William didn’t seem to notice. He held her gaze and said softly, “He may truly esteem you, but he will never be faithful.”
That galled her. Why would he never be faithful? Was she not worth fidelity? William’s assured belief angered her. “He genuinely esteems me. Would you like to bet that is not so?”
A slow, sultry smile returned to his lips and he looked at her in that way he’d looked at her when they’d kissed, and the blood began to sizzle in her veins.
“Your Royal Highness, the third act is about to begin,” Lady Bardaline warned.
William put his hands on his knees. “Aye, Your Royal Highness, I want to bet. I verymuchwant to bet.”
