In Pursuit Of A Princess. Donna Clayton

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to blow her nose.

      This exchange was Etienne’s first inkling that something about the de Bergeron princess seemed…well, shifted just a little bit left of center. Her behavior was somehow…off. And as he stood there listening to her talk, this deviation from what he thought should be the norm became more and more pronounced. He wasn’t too proud to admit that the situation had him highly perplexed.

      At one point when Lord Hecht was explaining his plan to create more nature sanctuaries, Princess Ariane suddenly snagged a passing female guest by the arm and exclaimed, “I simply must know where you bought that dress. The fabric is heavenly.”

      The three men stood speechless at the sudden shift in the conversation. However, the women seemed happy enough discussing clothing designers.

      As the evening progressed, Etienne became downright amazed at how the princess would ask seemingly coherent questions regarding someone’s political position only to make a frivolous comment that left her looking, well, less than intelligent.

      Etienne honestly didn’t know what to think. Maybe Ariane wasn’t the woman he’d believed her to be.

      Being the crown prince of Rhineland, the one who would next succeed to the throne, Etienne had realized early in his life that he couldn’t chose a wife purely on whim. For several years now, the king himself as well as the king’s most trusted advisors had been discussing the subject of Etienne’s taking a wife. No man liked the idea of others offering input on who he took as a life mate, but, well, that was just the way things were done when you were of royal blood. Especially so when you were in line to become king.

      From what he’d learned of Ariane de Bergeron, he’d had high hopes that she could very well be the perfect woman for him.

      She was poised, there was no doubt about that. Having this woman gracing his arm would make any man proud. She was most certainly beautiful. The kind of woman who stirred the most primitive instincts in a man. He was experiencing that just being near her now, he realized, feeling the embers of desire smoldering even as he stood next to her. She was of the royal de Bergeron bloodline, a stately and well-respected family. And he’d been told she was an educated woman, having studied in Switzerland, acquiring a degree in political science.

      Several women had gathered round them now, and he frowned as he listened to the conversation at hand. Had Ariane just compared the running of a monarchy to shopping for shoes? This evening was becoming more bizarre by the moment.

      Sources had informed him that the princess had a head on her shoulders…a head supposedly filled with an impressive brain. However, if he were to believe what he was seeing—and hearing—this evening he’d have to say there was nothing more than a big air bubble between her ears.

      “Oh, my,” Ariane exclaimed suddenly, “but it is warm in here, don’t you think?” She batted her innocent eyes at Etienne, clearly expecting him to make all things right for her.

      “If you’ll excuse me for a moment—” he let his gaze touch upon hers and then glanced at the group at large “I’ll have the doors opened and fetch a cool drink for the princess.”

      The women standing within earshot hid their smiles and the men’s gazes slid awkwardly from his. Normally, it wasn’t Etienne’s place to do such menial tasks as seeing to the temperature of the room or arranging for guests’ refreshment. On any ordinary evening, he would have handed the chore over to one of the servants who hovered nearby. However, with complete and utter bewilderment spinning his thoughts into a dozen different directions, this was turning out to be no ordinary evening he’d ever experienced.

      He gave quick orders to push open the doors leading to the garden to the first servant he saw, then he scanned the room in search of someone carrying a tray of drinks. He stopped short when he caught sight of his mother looking wan, and he immediately made his way through the crowd toward her.

      “Are you feeling all right, Mother?” he asked. “You look done in.”

      Her smile was tired. “I think I’ve just had too much fun this evening, is all.”

      “Where’s Father? He should see you to your room.” Etienne glanced around him. “Would you like me to escort you?”

      “No, no.” Laurette’s brow puckered. “You go back to Princess Ariane. Are you seeing to it that she’s having a good time? Have you asked her to dance?”

      The queen’s tone held a mild inflection of accusation and censure. Etienne couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his mouth. “Yes, I’ve asked the princess to dance. So have half a dozen other men. However, so far she hasn’t been so inclined to accept.”

      His mother looked utterly scandalized. “She has to dance. With you. What will everyone say? You see to it that you get that young woman out on the dance floor.”

      Dutifully, he said, “Yes, Mother.” Then he gave her a small, teasing salute.

      “Oh, now,” she said, “stop that. I’m not trying to mother hen you. I just want—”

      “I know exactly what you want,” Etienne gently interrupted. “You want Princess Ariane’s visit to go well. And so do I.”

      The elderly woman glanced toward the crowd that had gathered around Ariane at the far side of the ballroom. She murmured, “She’s probably upset. If only you had been on time….”

      “Mother, trust that I’ll make everything right.”

      “You always do, dear.”

      Just then, Etienne’s father joined them, reaching up to clap his son on the back.

      “That’s one beautiful woman who has come to Rhineland to see you, son,” he told Etienne. “Don’t let her get away.”

      Etienne grinned. “I don’t plan to.”

      Well, he hadn’t planned to. But after spending a couple of hours in her company, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

      “All my top advisors say she’s self-assured, humorous and well-educated—”

      From his father’s opinion, Etienne could tell the man hadn’t spent much time this evening in the princess’s company.

      “—and that she’s just perfect for you.”

      Etienne remained silent, his mind churning with troubling thoughts.

      Giraud’s gray eyes softened as they leveled on his wife. “You’ll have to see to things for the remainder of tonight’s festivities, Etienne. I’m going to retire for the evening with my lovely wife. She might be feeling better, but I believe she’s not fully recovered just yet.”

      This protective behavior warmed Etienne’s heart. He hoped to someday make a match as loving as the one his parents shared.

      That thought had his gaze drifting across the room until it latched onto Princess Ariane. The deep blue silk of her dress hugged the curves and valleys of her luscious figure. The soft light turned her blond hair to glistening honey.

      “She’s perfect,” he softly murmured his father’s opinion aloud.

      Self-assured, humorous, well-educated. The description haunted Etienne’s

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