LITMIR.BIZ

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you, sir. You’re looking rather dapper tonight, yourself.” She gave his satin cummerbund a playful tug.

      “Oh, I know you’re simply trying to put a bit of a bounce in an old man’s step.”

      “Fifty-one is hardly old.”

      “I’m sure it must seem that way when you are just twenty-one. You know, I was Sebastian’s age or thereabouts when you were born.”

      “Oh?”

      His smile was gentle. “I see the way you look at him.”

      “I don’t suppose my ladylike caterwauling on the golf course has anything to do with your assumption that I’m smitten.”

      A chuckle rumbled from deep within Philippe’s robust chest, and Marie-Claire couldn’t help but notice how handsome her father still was. The little cleft in his chin and the twinkle in his eye put her in mind of another of her favorite American actors, although Michael Douglas was perhaps not quite as tall. But the physical resemblance was something folks had remarked upon before. That and the fact that they both preferred young, beautiful wives.

      Marie-Claire spared a glance in Celeste’s direction, and noted the raucous laughter and phony social-climbing demeanor her stepmother had assumed with the prime minister. Her father was blind when it came to Celeste’s rather lengthy list of foibles.

      “I suppose you could do worse than Sebastian.” Though Philippe’s remark was offhand, as he looked at his daughter, his gaze roved her suddenly burning cheeks.

      “Papa!”

      He ignored her weak protestations. “You are a beautiful woman, Marie-Claire. Unfortunately for me, the time has come to let go of you. To let you loose upon the world….” King Philippe pulled Marie-Claire close, the gesture at odds with his words.

      “Heaven forbid!”

      “You will do great things in this life, my dear. Always know that I love you, and am so very proud.”

      Marie-Claire felt her throat tighten at his sweet words, and impulsively stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. This pleased the king and he blinked back the tears.

      As the evening wore on, Marie-Claire and Sebastian were obliged to dance with other people. Thankfully, Veronike was a popular partner and had not been available for a second go at Sebastian. And, though they were not always in proximity, Marie-Claire could feel Sebastian’s proprietary gaze and her confidence soared. Unable to tear her eyes away from him for more than a moment, she found keeping up with the task at hand nearly impossible.

      “So,” Charles Rodin, Wilhelm’s twin brother commented, “I understand you are a fan of old movies. Have you seen Adam’s Rib?”

      “I have never eaten there, though I do enjoy American barbecue…”

      “Oh?” Charles frowned.

      Prince Etienne Kroninberg of Rhineland told her, “It is my understanding that your sister, Ariane, is planning to come to my country for a visit.”

      “No, Ariane is around here somewhere, I think. I just saw her…”

      Etienne opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better and shut it.

      The prime minister said, “Your grandmother is looking well tonight. The king’s victory seems to have put roses in her cheeks.”

      “Yes, she has ten green thumbs, at least.”

      More than once, she trod upon her partner’s toe and had to beg pardon. And more than once, she caught Sebastian’s smile of amusement.

      After what seemed to be an eternity, Sebastian finally made his way back to her and solicited her hand from a stodgy third cousin and whisked her off.

      “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” Sebastian angled his head and cocked a playful brow.

      “I think there is no chaste way to answer that question.” Marie-Claire returned his grin.

      Admiration for her wit flashed in his eyes. “Shall we set the tongues to wagging and head out to the verandah for a breath of fresh air?”

      “Why not? The tongues have been wagging all day.”

      “Come on then. Let’s give them some more grist for the rumor mill.”

      Marie-Claire’s heart bounced about in her rib cage at the intimate quality in his voice.

      The verandah outside the ballroom was nearly as large as the ballroom itself. Made of concrete, it sported a low railing with balustrades as broad as small wine kegs. Light poured from the palace windows and the music—a lilting Vivaldi piece—danced upon the gentle night breezes. In the air, there was a hint of burning leaves and the last fragrances of summer’s flowers.

      Never had Marie-Claire felt more vibrant. Alive. Pulsing with vitality. Sebastian’s touch on her hand was warm and this warmth spread up her arm and burned and swirled in her chest, making it hard to catch her breath.

      This was the moment she’d been dreaming of. A moment alone with a man with whom she’d bonded, once upon a twilight evening in her youth. And, though before tonight they’d only conversed on the most superficial topics, it was an unbreakable bond, for whatever magical reason. Fate. Kismet.

      Destiny.

      Didn’t matter what one called it. Marie-Claire believed that God himself wanted them together and there was no use even pursuing other options.

      A few dried leaves skittered across the patio’s floor as a warm wind flirted with Marie-Claire’s hair and skirts. A violent shiver wracked her body as anticipation rolled up her spine and settled in her throat.

      “Are you cold?”

      She swallowed against the excitement that burned in her throat. “No. Quite the opposite, actually.”

      Sebastian untied his bow tie and unfastened a collar stud with his free hand. “Same.”

      As they strolled, other couples, seeming to find the climate in the ballroom confining, began to wander out of doors looking for a bit of fresh air and some privacy. Inside the ballroom, Eduardo could be seen, bobbing about, peering out various windows, obviously searching for Marie-Claire.

      “Come on.”

      Sebastian took her hand and tugged her into the shadows and down an immense stair. A sea of rolling lawn unfurled before them, and Marie-Claire bent to remove her high-heeled slippers so that she could better keep up with his rangy stride.

      “So. Last time we were alone together, you were sixteen, and of an age to begin dating.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and cast a disarming grin down at her. “Did you?”

      “Did I?” Marie-Claire could barely think. The wool of his jacket made a pleasant swooshing sound against the verdant satin of her gown. “What?”

      “Date?”

      “Oh.” How embarrassing. How could she couch the truth and exude the worldly persona she longed for Sebastian to see in her? Her mouth went dry and she touched her tongue to her lips. “Uh…Well, not right away. Actually, Papa caught wind of my plans and shipped me off to an all-girl boarding school.”

      “I know.”

      “You knew?”

      “I may have inadvertently mentioned your intention to begin dating to him after I escorted you home that night.”

      Marie-Claire’s jaw dropped, and a guttural gasp escaped.

      “Apparently, your father was not aware of your plans.” Amusement quirked in the corners of Sebastian’s lips. “I didn’t realize you meant to keep these plans secret.”

      “Oh, sure.” Bristling, she stared at him through narrow eyes. “So. You are the reason I suffered through two years in that horrendously stuffy all-female boarding school?”

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