A NEW PARAMOUR FOR THE PRINCE?-2
786 Words
AT THE PALACE, GUESTS mingled in overcoats and gloves. People tried to hover near heat lamps set up around the garden without looking like they were cold. In the summer, the gardens of Buckingham Palace were lush and green, the flowers vibrant and beautiful. Amelia remembered coming to these events as a child and being admonished to stay out of the fountains.
Now, in the depths of winter, there was a stark beauty to the grounds. The texture of the stones and the bare branches of trees stood out clearly against the snow and the grey sky. The mingled breath of the assembled formed the faintest mist, as though they all existed on the edge of faerieland.
Surely, Amelia thought as she navigated her way through the crowd, she could find her family more easily if she weren’t quite so short. Not that she particularly wanted to find her family. Once she did, she’d have to talk to them, and she still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell them about the offer Prince Arthur had made her. Although, in public at a palace was probably not the place to break that news to her mother.
Jo found Amelia first and walked slowly with her over to the rest of the family — Nick, Charlie, and Earl and Countess Brockett.
“I thought you didn’t like this kind of thing,” Amelia said, grateful at the prospect of having Jo as a buffer between herself and her mother.
“Oh, I don’t. Charlie just asked me very, very nicely.” On her lapel, an enameled pin of York’s white rose reflected the day’s weak sunlight in daring protest.
Charlie turned at the sound of his name. When he caught Jo looking at him his face broke out in an unselfconscious grin. Jo smiled back, and Amelia had to look away. Happiness of the sort her brother and sister-in-law shared had always seemed the point of marriage. Could giving that up possibly be worth what Prince Arthur offered?
Amelia gradually became aware that people were staring at her. She wished she’d worn a different coat than the one she’d had on at the races or that her hat hid her face better. When she’d dressed that morning it had never occurred to her that people would recognize her. God damn the Daily Observer and whoever had sent in that picture of her and the Prince.
“Come on.” Jo looped her arm through Amelia’s. “Let’s take a walk, so when people stare we won’t have to know which of us they’re being awful about.” They made a loop of the garden, stopped at the food tents to grab tea and tiny sandwiches served on very fine china, and then cycled back to the rest of the family just as there was a susurration in the crowd.
Amelia was suddenly aware that Prince Arthur was there, mingling his way through the throng. His niece, Princess Georgina, was at his side. She was oval-faced, with deep-set eyes, and dressed in somber navy with her blond hair pulled back into a tight chignon. Georgina seemed to Amelia an odd mix of preternatural poise and the coltishness all teen girls possessed.
“They’re coming over here,” Jo hissed at her. Her voice, and the elbow in Amelia’s side, were gently teasing.
When he reached them, Prince Arthur only glanced briefly at Amelia before he greeted her parents and shook Charlie’s hand, though this time without the manly back-slapping hug. Princess Georgina said her hellos as well, and Amelia found herself deeply unsettled when the Princess’s sharp green eyes fixed on her. Once Prince Arthur had worked through the proper order of precedence, he turned to Amelia.
“Lady Amelia.” He took her hand with both of his, which was very much not protocol. Both of them were wearing gloves against the cold, but gloves could not conceal how big his hands were or the warmth Amelia could feel through the layers of fabric. His palms dwarfed her much smaller hands, and his grip was firm and sure.
“Your Highness,” she said with the same curtsy she had used in a room at this palace just a week before. Except that had been in private. Now Amelia’s entire family, not to mention scores of strangers, were watching.
“I trust school is going well?” he asked.
“Very, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said with just the faintest hint of a smile before moving on to the next little gaggle.
Every member of Amelia’s family present turned to stare at her, but she took no notice of them. She was looking at Prince Arthur as he strolled away from her, at the proud line of his shoulders that tapered down to his narrow waist. Suddenly, Princess Georgina turned her head over her shoulder to stare at Amelia. Amelia ducked her head and pretended to study the ground. How could the Prince think it wise she take the throne from this fox-faced witch girl?
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- Writer
