being the wilting bride? Andreas moved among the wedding guests and his gaze kept turning to his bride, over and over again.
She was talking and laughing and moving among the guests as if she were born to the occasion. Munwannay had always been a social hub and she’d been bred to society. He knew that, but he hadn’t expected this. The guest list meant that he had to do the expected. There were so many people who’d be offended if he slighted them today. So he couldn’t hold her tight to him; he had to work the crowd alone. He’d warned his family to look out for her; to protect her as much as they could, but it seemed Holly needed no protection.
She spoke his language almost perfectly. Her fluency stunned him. Yes, she’d learned it as a kid, as a shared intimacy with him, but that she’d kept it up…
She joked, she laughed, she seemed genuinely interested in those around her. She was working the crowd as much as he was.
Their people loved her. The crazy, intimate scene in the church had disarmed everyone who saw it and now she was taking full advantage of the good humour she’d engendered.
He saw Sebastian watching her from the sidelines and saw his brother’s dark eyes crease in admiration. And something else.
He’d been talking to a politician, an officious little man who was congratulating him on his choice of wife. ‘We were so concerned. Another scandal would have undone us all, yet you’ve turned the thing around.’
But when he saw Sebastian watching his bride, it was Andreas who turned around, apologizing brusquely and heading through the crowd to Holly’s side. It was the way Sebastian had looked at her. She was an innocent.
No. She was his wife.
The knowledge was like a blast of light through fog, an unbelievable fact that would disappear any moment. But for now…
‘Holly,’ he said and slipped his arm round her waist in a gesture that was entirely proprietary.
‘Hi,’ she said and snuggled up against him in a gesture that was entirely unroyal. ‘Having fun?’
‘I don’t do fun,’ he said without thinking, and she frowned.
‘What, never?’
‘This is work.’
‘No, but there are some really nice people here.’ She sighed. ‘I’m doing all my talking for the next fifty years. I’ll remember this back at Munwannay. What are we drinking?’
He looked at the glass she was holding—golden bubbles. ‘French champagne.’
‘I like it,’ she said. ‘I think I need more.’
‘Right now?’
‘Maybe not. A tipsy bride is not a good look. Do you think I can sneak away and check on Deefer?’
‘He’s in very good hands.’
‘Yes, but they’re not my hands. How long do wedding receptions last?’
‘Until the bride and groom leave.’
She brightened. ‘Hey, that’s us, right? So can we leave?’
Tia was suddenly there. His mother. She’d kept things under control since her husband died. If it weren’t for Tia… well, maybe the monarchy would have disintegrated long since, he thought. She was always where she was needed. Now she touched her son on his shoulder.
‘The older people need to leave. So, therefore, do you.’
‘That’s just what Holly’s been saying.’
‘She’s a wise child.’ Tia smiled her approval at Holly. ‘You’ve done very well, dear.’
Holly flushed. ‘I… thank you…’
‘For a captive bride,’ Andreas said without thinking, and he saw the flash of surprise that said she’d forgotten. For the moment.
But she suppressed it. The twinkle appeared again. ‘He gave me a dog,’ she told Tia, as if that explained everything.
‘He always was a kind boy,’ Tia said.
‘Kind, huh?’ Holly said, and gave him a look that almost had him blushing.
But Tia was into organizational mode. She wasn’t looking for nuances. ‘You know the people who need to be formally farewelled,’ she told Andreas. ‘The two of you do the rounds. Quickly though, or it’ll be said we slighted someone.’
‘We can’t split up and do ‘em faster?’ Holly asked.
‘You don’t know who…’
‘I’m figuring it out,’ Holly said. ‘I’ve been watching. My mother brought me up on social nuances. I’m thinking I could point to every person here who’s likely to take offence. But you’re right, of course, I can’t be depended on and I really need to see my dog. Okay, my husband. Let’s get this lot farewelled so we can get on with our lives.’
It felt like an order. He felt… bossed. Holly moved through the dignitaries like a professional. As he steered her from person to person she greeted them with her hands outstretched, a royal bride receiving the attention she deserved.
She could do this, he thought with a shock. He glanced aside at his mother and saw her watching Holly and thought it wasn’t just him and his pride in her. She could be royal.
There was another shock, a smack in the solar plexus that went right along with the strange feel of the ring on his finger. If he’d married her ten years ago…
Right, as if that could have happened. When his father had been alive—no way. But now… He glanced further across the crowded reception room and there was Sebastian, still watching her. Smiling.
Royal approval, or simply Sebastian’s habitual reaction to a beautiful woman?
But if Sebastian approved… What had happened in the church today had changed things. Holly had become a real person to the country—a real princess?
Could they have a real marriage?
The thought was mind-blasting. It made his arm tighten on Holly’s waist so she looked up at him enquiringly. ‘Andreas?’
‘It’s time we went,’ he managed.
‘Yes, dear,’ she said and they were such a domestic couple of words that they made him blink. Then she smiled and the heat in his body kept right on building.
They had to go. He had to take her… away.
His wife.
SHE hadn’t counted on being dumped unceremoniously in the kitchen with Deefer, but that was exactly what happened.
The
