The Princess and The Masked Man. Valerie ParvЧитать онлайн книгу.
had talked about the job as Elaine was helping Giselle to organize the ball. “I spoke to them. They agree I’m well qualified, but the charter is ironclad. An unmarried woman can’t hold the position.”
Elaine made a sound of annoyance. “Can’t you petition Prince Gabriel? As the governor of Taures, your father should be able to decree that the requirement is inequitable in this day and age. Men don’t have to be married to hold the job.”
Wishing she could stamp her damaged foot, Giselle nodded agreement. “You’re missing the point. My father does know it’s inequitable, but it suits my parents to have me in such a cleft stick.”
“Because they see the position as an inducement to get you to marry?”
“Precisely.”
“What about Robert Gaudet? The whole province would love it if their princess married the most eligible man in the kingdom.”
“I don’t intend ordering my life to entertain the kingdom,” Giselle said sharply, then lowered her voice, aware of the other guests within earshot. “Robert is handsome and charming. I enjoy his company. I just don’t see myself marrying him.”
“Not even if it allows you to become Keeper?”
Giselle gave her attendant a sour look. “You sound like my parents. You’d think they’d be concerned about welcoming an actor into the royal family. Thespians are hardly known for their fidelity.”
Elaine nodded. “Your parents probably feel that the decision should depend on what’s most important to you.”
Easier said than done, Giselle thought. The Keeper’s position was important to her as a matter of simple justice. By doing the job for the last few years she had earned the recognition.
It wasn’t only status she wanted but the right to put into practice some of her own ideas for the castle’s future development. She and Maxim didn’t always see eye to eye on what should be done. Invariably his will prevailed. Only when she held an equal position would her opinions carry the same weight.
Her mother had tried to assure her that she could achieve as much or more if she became the power behind the throne, but Giselle disdained such an antiquated notion. She knew Robert would love the title of prince, but he had his own stellar career. He didn’t want to be involved in the affairs of the castle. So why should she have to ally herself with him in order to do the job in her own right?
Elaine leaned closer. “Of course, the right man might make you feel differently.”
The idea struck so close to the heart of Giselle’s thinking that she almost sprang from her chair. Only a hint of pain from her foot when she put pressure on it kept her seated. “The tabloids seem to think Robert is the right man.”
“But you don’t.”
Elaine knew her too well to pose it as a question. She alone knew that Giselle had asked Robert to go to America without her so she could consider the future of their relationship. In fact, she had already done so, but Robert had asked her to think it over while he was gone. Giselle didn’t expect the time apart to make any difference. The spark simply wasn’t there.
If she needed any reminding, she had only to consider her response to the mystery man. Now there was a spark. If it had glowed any brighter, she would have gone up in flames. His very touch had been enough to set her heart racing. Yet she didn’t know his real name or anything about him. She only knew he had made her feel utterly alive and desirable.
Would she feel the same once the masks came off? As it was, she could make him into any man she wanted. Her dream lover, her Prince Charming. The mystery might be what made him seem so enticing. Somehow, she doubted it. Something in him had called to her soul like a voice in her mind, promising the earth if only she was open to possibilities.
Excitement shivered through her. She was probably letting the fantasy mood of the ball affect her more than it should, but for once she felt like indulging herself. She wanted to meet him, to stare into his eyes and discover if the spell was really there, or existed only in her mind.
And she wanted to do it on her feet.
“Please fetch me my walking cane,” she told Elaine on impulse.
Her equerry looked startled. “I thought you didn’t want to use it tonight.”
“I’ve changed my mind. Hurry, it will be midnight in a few minutes.”
The woman did as bidden, returning promptly with the cane the doctor had prescribed for Giselle’s use until she could manage unaided. The princess looked at it in distaste. The sedan chair held far more appeal, but that would mean involving her bodyguards, and their presence was hardly conducive to the scene she had in mind.
Carefully she rose to her feet. To her surprise, her foot hurt only a little more than when she was seated, even when she put all her weight on it. She was definitely improving. Not wanting to undo the doctor’s good work, she let the cane support her as she moved among her guests.
She had thought she had done her duty and spoken to absolutely everyone by now, but there were still people who wanted to congratulate her on her progress. All she was doing was walking, for pity’s sake. Babies did it every day. She tried not to let her impatience show as she responded to the well-wishers in her slow circuit of the ballroom.
Her heart picked up speed as she scanned the room. Midnight was only seconds away and some people were already reaching to undo their masks. The orchestra struck up a bright tune and someone began a countdown. Her gaze became frantic. Where was he?
He was tall enough to stand out from the crowd, so she should have no difficulty picking him out. A wide-shouldered man in a dark suit had her heart double-timing until he turned around and she recognized him as a teacher from the castle school where she lectured in royal history.
Three. Two. One.
With a happy crescendo, the orchestra played into the moment. Laughter bubbled around her as faces were revealed, some expected, some obviously causing surprise. Nowhere could she see her mystery man. He had vanished as if into her imagination.
“There you are.”
Maxim stepped in front of her, his mask dangling from his fingers. Reaching out, he unfastened hers and looped it over his hand. She wanted to wrench it back to hide her features from his searching gaze.
It was too late. “You don’t look very happy for a woman who will soon be the toast of Merrisand. Thanks to your hard work and planning, this year’s ball looks like it will break all fund-raising records for the trust.”
“I’m delighted of course,” she managed to say.
“I knew it was too soon for you to be walking. You’re in pain, aren’t you?”
Only if you counted the ache in her heart. “I’m fine,” she insisted. She wanted to ask her brother if he knew what had become of the man who had offered her his arm at the start of the ball, but that would be far too revealing. They might be grown up, but her brother wasn’t above teasing her as if they were still children, and she didn’t think she could stand being teased about this.
She felt as if something precious had been offered then snatched away. She didn’t know his name or what he looked like. Why had he left before midnight? He might at least have dropped a shoe so she would have some way to start looking for him. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, and he—not she—was the quarry this time.
As soon as she could, she would go through the guest list name by name. Whatever it took. For now she would blame curiosity for the desire flaring incandescently through her. Only curiosity, nothing more.
Nothing she would allow herself, anyway.
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