her striking gold mask, her features hinted at attractiveness. No, he was the problem, feeling uncomfortable holding her in his arms.
Strange. He hadn’t felt that way when he assisted the princess earlier. She had fitted against his side as if she belonged there. Also missing was the tug of guilt he’d so often felt after catching himself enjoying some small pleasure. Yvette had been such a generous soul that she wouldn’t want him to feel guilty on her account, yet he hadn’t been able to dismiss the feeling.
Until this evening.
“My mind was wandering,” he told Elaine. True enough.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she murmured, matching her steps to his as he picked up the rhythm again.
“It’s nothing personal. I’m out of practice at this.” Also true.
“She is lovely, isn’t she?” Elaine said.
He didn’t insult her by pretending not to know who she meant. “Yes. Also very popular.” The crowd around Giselle had only lessened for the interval while supper was served.
“You wouldn’t be the first man at the castle to fall in love with her.”
Bryce felt his muscles tighten and made an effort to relax them. “You sound just like my daughter.”
He could almost hear Elaine’s thoughts as she added this up. Out of practice at dancing, and with a daughter. Therefore probably widowed or divorced. “How old is your daughter?”
As he heard the interest in her voice sharpen, he regretted even more asking her to dance. Then he reminded himself that he was the one using her to take his mind off the princess. “Ten, and an authority on celebrities, courtesy of her favorite magazine, Fame and Fortune.”
“I read that magazine, too. They did an article recently about the princess and Robert Gaudet.”
He nodded. “According to the writer, they’re practically engaged.”
Now who was fishing? he thought. As Giselle’s right-hand woman, Elaine could be expected to know whether there was any truth in the article. He told himself he was merely curious.
Elaine’s smile became artful. “You’d have to ask Her Highness about that.”
He had to admire her discretion, although he couldn’t help wondering who else her reticence was serving. As long as Giselle was committed to the actor, Bryce was wasting his time fantasizing about her. Especially when there was a lovely, available woman much closer to hand. Or so he could imagine Elaine wanting him to think.
Maybe she was right. He had worried for some time that Amanda was suffering for lack of a mother’s influence. He had tried to compensate by letting her spend time with her maternal grandmother, until he became aware that Babette was spoiling her hopelessly.
He thought he understood his mother-in-law’s motives. Having lost her daughter, she was afraid of losing Amanda, too. Bryce hadn’t been able to make her see that being overly indulgent wouldn’t help.
When Babette and Lyle Monroe learned that he was taking Amanda away from Nuee, they had acted as if he was taking their child away instead of their granddaughter. Provoked by their example, Amanda had accused him of ruining her life. She still had bouts of difficult behavior, too many for his peace of mind sometimes. He hoped that by removing her from her grandparents’ influence, he would eventually make her understand that his decision had been for her good.
The dance ended and he thanked Elaine. On impulse, he asked, “Would you like some champagne?”
Under her mask she looked flushed, whether with the dancing, or at his offer, he didn’t know. Had she expected him to desert her the moment the music stopped? He wasn’t proud of having considered the idea.
“Champagne would be lovely, thank you.”
He signaled to a passing waiter and lifted two flutes from his tray, gave one to her and toasted her with his own. “Thank you for your patience.” It was more than he deserved.
She drank the toast without comment. “Will I see you again?”
He couldn’t bring himself to promise anything while his gaze kept being pulled on invisible strings to where Giselle sat among her admirers.
Among a crowd of glittering people, she seemed to glow. Everything about her, from her crowned head to her slippered feet, shone with a brilliance that threatened to dazzle him. The mask prevented him from seeing all of her face but he had seen her picture often enough to know that her skin was flawless and porcelain toned, her opalescent gaze deep enough for a man to drown in.
He felt desire stirring, and warning bells rang in his brain. It didn’t escape him that her lack of availability might be the reason he felt so strongly attracted to her. Coward, he told himself. Fixating on a woman he couldn’t have was one way to avoid getting back into a game he had sworn he had given up two years before.
He hauled in a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something noncommittal to Elaine, but she spoke first. “It’s almost midnight. I should see if the princess needs me for anything.” She replaced the champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. “Thanks for the dance.”
Bryce inclined his head in agreement. “Thank you, Elaine. I’ll see you around the castle.”
But she was already weaving her way through the crowd to Giselle’s side. He wasn’t sure she’d heard him.
Elaine was exactly the sort of woman he should be interested in, he told himself. She was attractive, with a good sense of humor and the patience of a saint to put up with his inattention tonight, and she was obviously interested in him. She had even shown an interest in Amanda. What more did he need?
Fireworks, that’s what. Candlelit dinners. Nights on satin sheets. The whole romantic ball of wax. The kind he’d known with Yvette, when they were starry-eyed with the wonder of love and the joy of their beautiful girl child.
At first they hadn’t known anything was wrong, blaming the demands of a young child on Yvette’s constant feeling of lethargy. When it persisted, she’d consulted doctor after doctor, being referred to one specialist after another. None could say with certainty why stray proteins were cluttering up her blood, and what it meant.
Not that a precise diagnosis would have made much difference. Over the years, despite valiant efforts at treatment, she had grown progressively weaker until she had begged him to make the doctors stop trying. Contrarily, once they did, she had rallied, giving him a glimmer of hope that she might recover against all odds.
When she started to spiral down again, he had sought out alternative therapies, from vitamin treatments to people who could supposedly heal by touch, anything and everything. For a short time her condition would seem to improve, only to continue once more on her inexorable downward path.
Even then, they had managed to snatch happiness from despair. Yvette had never been one for self-pity, and she had loved romance. He remembered bringing her a single Carramer orchid, a perfect specimen in a vivid cerulean hue that reflected her eyes. They had filled with tears of pleasure at the sight of the bloom.
At an earlier, happier time, they had picnicked with Amanda in the rain forest on the slopes of Mount Mayat, not far from the Nuee Trail,
