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“Not at all. I seemed to be the only one who very nearly met my demise. When at last the water was calm again, I opened my eyes and these two lovelies were staring at me, surely curious if I had lived.”
Justine laughed. “What sort of birds are they?”
“Lovebirds.” The moment he said it, Prince Michel blushed. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but that is what they are called. I didn’t mean to imply... I chose them for their beauty, not for their name.”
His fluster was charming. “It’s quite all right, Prince Michel. I understood you completely.”
He laughed self-consciously. “One does desire to make a good impression.”
“As my friend Lord Douglas has said on many occasions. Have you met him?”
Prince Michel turned and smiled at William. “I have, indeed. We discovered we have a mutual friend.”
“Youdo?” She looked at William.
“Count Jurgen of Bavaria,” William said.
“Really? And how are you both acquainted with Count Jurgen?”
“He travels frequently between Miraval and Paris,” Prince Michel said.
“I knew him the summer I lived in Paris,” William added.
Justine shook her head in wonder. “On my word, Lord Douglas, I wonder if there is anyone of consequence on the continent you’ve not met.”
“Well,” said Prince Michel, “it is our first meeting.”
“But I think it will no’ be our last, Your Highness,” William added.
Lord Bardaline interrupted, announcing that wine would be served in the solarium before supper. They repaired to that room and a pair of footmen began to serve. Prince Michel noted the bit of green Justine wore pinned to her shoulder, and the green the footmen wore. He said he thought the wearing of green a delightful Weslorian custom. He said he wished Miraval had such a custom.
He said he’d read the complete history of Wesloria and found it remarkable that so many queens had ruled by right well before they had in other European kingdoms. He said he thought that women brought the steady hand of justice to the throne, and remarked on the rule of his own great-great-grandmother in Miraval, and how she had been the one to see that so many necessary reforms were brought to their small principality.
He was a lovely companion, asking her questions about herself and showing his interest in her country. Justine kept stealing looks at William, trying to read his expression. She wondered if he was thinking of this afternoon, if the same glittering feeling was coursing through his blood. She wondered what he thought of Prince Michel, who, at first blush seemed...perfect.
When Lord Bardaline stepped in to speak to Prince Michel, Justine glanced to where William was speaking to Lila. Her gaze happened to fall to his hand. She recalled how he’d pressed the breadth of his palm against her. She and Aldabert had explored each other beyond the bounds of what was proper, but he’d always been in such a rush. It hadn’t been the same with William. It had been—
“Ma’am?”
Justine started. Lord Bardaline was bowing, excusing himself, informing her supper was served.
She smiled apologetically at Prince Michel. If he noticed her ogling William’s hand, he was too much of a gentleman to show it.
Lord Bardaline assembled them in a promenade, and she took the arm of the Miravalian prince and allowed him to escort her into the dining room. He was seated on her right, Lila on her left. William was seated at the far end of the table where she could hardly see him. She suspected that Lady Bardaline had not been able to banish him from this supper, so she’d sat him as far from Justine as possible.
Still, as there were only a few of them, everyone was included in the conversation. Prince Michel said he’d heard that the mountain flowers of Wesloria were extraordinary.
“They are beautiful, but I think not as beautiful as any flower from Italy...or so I’ve heard,” Justine said. At the far end of the table, she heard William choke on a sip of his wine.
Prince Michel said that Miraval was known for its wine, and he hoped she was enjoying the glass of it, as he understood it had been served with dinner this evening. William said it was delicious, which gave Prince Michel the opportunity to point out that Miraval hoped to become to wine what Scotland was to Scotch whisky. That prompted a spirited discussion between the gentlemen as to the best whisky distilled in Scotland.
At the conclusion of the meal, the party returned to the salon. Lady Aleksander took the opportunity to show the prince one of the prize paintings of the hall.
William took the opportunity to speak to Justine.
“Well?” she whispered. “What warnings do you have for me?”
He looked slightly exasperated. “To my consternation, no’ a one. He is a true gentleman and a delight when compared to your other dinner guests. What doyouthink?”
