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“My children will be royal. They’ll marry royalty. It elevates the Ashford name.”
But it wasn’t just about making moves for me. I couldn’t deny that I was a romantic at heart, a believer in love and the power it held to transform lives.
“And their children will be kings and queens,” he said with a smile.
“I just hope it’s not all business. I hope that in the midst of all this, I’ll be fortunate enough to find love as well.”
Jack grinned, giving me an affectionate pat on the back. “Theo, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I have no doubt that your charm and sincerity will win someone’s heart.”
I tossed a few things on the bed. “I hope so. I just don’t want to be seen as someone with a big bank account.”
His words filled me with a sense of hope. As I packed my belongings, I carried that hope with me. The next day was a flurry of activity as my family and I made our final preparations for the journey to England. Victoria was coming along to get a glimpse of the festivities. Soon enough, it would be her turn.
With our bags packed and our arrangements in order, we boarded the private plane to England. It was a journey that I had undertaken with Roman last year, so I had an idea of what was to come. My parents were going to be busy catching up with all their friends. Victoria was going to be shopping and Jack would be getting me dressed and sending me off like a lamb to the slaughter.
Jack sat in the front of the plane with a book thick enough to threaten the plane’s ability to fly across the Atlantic. I took my usual seat next to the window with my laptop on the table. I was hoping to get a little more work done on the flight over. Dad was sitting a few seats back doing the same thing.
As the hours passed, I found myself lost in thought, reminiscing about the events of the past year. Roman’s match had been a whirlwind of emotions and challenges, and I couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead for me. Roman complained about the balls he had to attend, but I was pretty sure he actually liked it.
Tomorrow was the first ball of my season. I was anxious to lay eyes on my future wife. Oddly enough, the first time we met, it would only be her eyes I got to see. Lady Hamilton was making the first ball of the season a masquerade-themed affair that added an element of mystery and excitement to the festivities.
What made it even more intriguing was the fact that I would not get to see Emilie’s face until the very end of the evening. The thought filled me with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. I wondered if she would be happy to see me. Was I going to be what she was looking for? Was she going to see me as a means to an end. My family money was going to save her family. I knew it was probably a lot to ask, but I hoped I could be more than an ATM.
“Nervous?” Victoria asked, taking a seat across from me.
“Nah.”
“Liar,” she said, laughing. “I’m a little jealous. I hope my season has a masquerade. They are so romantic and exciting. I already know what kind of mask I want to wear.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m sure your season will have a masquerade, and you’ll have all the gentlemen fawning over you.”
Victoria smiled. “I hope so.”
“Don’t forget, you have older brothers that will kick the asses of any men that get too handsy.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are going to be married and probably living in Norway. Roman will probably have a baby by that time. He’s not going to have time to chase me around. I’ll get to be as wild as I want.”
“If she rejects me, it will destroy our family’s good name. You’re going to struggle to be matched with anyone.”
Victoria’s smile faded. “Don’t talk like that. Emilie will be lucky to have you. You’re kind and handsome, and anyone would be foolish to reject you.” Her eyes softened, and she reached out to take my hand. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out with Emilie, there are plenty of other ladies who would be honored to be your wife.”
I nodded, appreciative of her words. Victoria was always there to boost my confidence when I needed it most. “Thanks.”
“And if she’s mean to you, just let me know. I will set her straight.”
“Don’t you know it’s the big brother that’s supposed to take care of his little sister?”
She snorted. “I can handle myself. Besides, you’re a softie.”
“Not exactly a selling point.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, smiling. “You’re a romantic. You are actually one of those guys that likes moonlit walks on the beach and candlelight dinners. She’s going to like you. And like I said, if she doesn’t, there’s Scotland and France to choose from.”
“I don’t know if it’s a matter of me picking another bride,” I said.
There was a damn good chance I would get the leftovers.
6
