Free How to Love a Princess by Claire Robyns

mother
faring?”
    “We’re still not sure what
is wrong with her.” Catherine forced a light tone, not wishing to weigh down
the dinner party. “But I for one feel much better with Nicolas Vecca on the
case.”
    Reginald glanced across
the table to where Nicolas was conversing in undertones with Eleanor, then back
to her with a reassuring smile. “He’s quite a remarkable man. I’ve heard only
good things about him.” He chuckled softly. “For a man so much in the public
eye, that’s quite an achievement.”
    “Yes,” she agreed
sincerely. “And I’m sure that what we’ve seen so far is just a scratch on the
mark he’ll leave on this world.”
    Reginald took his hand
back from her arm and ate in silence for a few minutes, then looked at her with
a curious expression. “You could do worse than him, you know.”
    She didn’t even pretend to
misunderstand. “Oh, no, there’s nothing between Nicolas and me.”
    Reginald grunted. “Does
the young man know that?”
    Catherine laughed from
pure nervousness. “Now you’re pulling straw from an empty haystack.”
    “I’m old, my dear, not
blind,” he scoffed. “I’ve seen the way his eyes follow— I’ve seen the way hefollows you.”
    “Reginald,” she protested.
    He shrugged his shoulders,
then grinned in defeat. “All I’m saying is, you could do worse. Now,” he added,
holding up his forkful, “what is this slop I’m eating?”
    “That slop,” she said,
well accustomed to his wit, “is baked squid. The latest in gourmet dining,
according to Claustaud. Whom, I might add, I snatched from you .”
    Reginald laughed out loud.
“First you steal my top chef from under my nose and now you blame me for his
mistakes?”
    Catherine chuckled, noting
that Reginald nevertheless ate every morsel on his plate.
    Once desert had been
served, the guests were taken into the Billiard room for coffee so that they
could mingle freely before the end of the evening. The men gathered around the
snooker table while the women chatted, Catherine doing her utmost to ensure
Eleanor was not totally ignored.
    When the clock struck
eleven, the guests took their leave, escorted to their private jets waiting on
the landing strip.
    Catherine looked from
Geoffrey to Nicolas and was suddenly exhausted. Thankfully, both were well
acquainted with the castle and could be left to their own devices. “Please
excuse me, gentlemen. I think I’m ready to retire.”
    “So am I,” claimed
Geoffrey. “I’ll walk with you.”
    Nicolas said nothing, but
his gaze hardened on her.
    What am I being accused
of now? Catherine felt
her heart sag as she said goodnight and left the room, Geoffrey trailing
behind.
    They parted at the top of
the stairway and, after a lingering bath, Catherine sought her bed. But sleep
would not come. She tossed and turned until the covers lay at her feet in a
rumpled heap. What bothered her the most, she finally conceded, was Nicolas’s
denial of her proposed engagement. No. Just no. As if refusing to grant a
favour she hadn’t requested. As if he were denying a permission she didn’t
need. And would she have been any happier if he’d given them his blessing?
    Unwilling to answer that
question, Catherine jumped up, threw on her satin nightgown and made her way downstairs
to the kitchen. As she passed through the hall, she saw the glow of soft light
from the reception room casting shadows on the polished floorboards. She popped
her head inside.
    Nicolas.
    The glow came from the
lights built into the bar. He had his back to her, sitting on a stool, his
elbows resting over the counter. She should walk right on; leave him to his
solitary drinking. The tumultuous day that had started with that kiss by the
stream (was that only this morning?) had all the signs of ending even worse.
She felt as if Nicolas had tossed her in the dryer and kept the spin cycle on
high throughout the day. Was his game revenge? Or was he merely as confused as
she was?
    Catherine took a