Page 20 of Princess of Air
“It’s always my goal to anticipate your needs.”
The song ends, and I hide my blush with a curtsy as he bows his head to me. “Thank you, Lord Tomas.”
“Your Grace.” He strides off through the throng of people, and I watch from the corner of my eye as he slips out of the ballroom.
I take my time, getting a glass of wine and telling curious courtiers how honored I am for the opportunity to be crowned heir. Responses to the outcome not affecting my betrothal range from tight concern to sparkling excitement. Only one of the disappointed replies gives me the feeling that my hand not becoming available again is the real problem. Alas, that’s a response I’d have preferred from the next Lord of Highbluff, not Donehan. Still, foolishly, it’s Tomas I’m on my way to.
After enough time has passed, I go out a different way, sneaking into a back hallway and down the stairs to the cellar. The shield of air goes up as the door closes. I don’t even give Tomas the chance to continue the devilish dance we’ve mastered. He doesn’t get a word in before my lips meet his with starved passion.
Chapter ten
“Go ahead.” I slide a pin into my hair, using the distorted reflection in a wine bottle as a mirror. “I’ll leave enough of a gap between your return and mine.”
Tomas leans against a large oak cask. “You’re the one who will be missed if you’re gone too long.”
It’s true under any circumstance, except now it makes me think of Jamys’ warning that people will pay more attention to me since I could be the heir. This entire escape from the ball was probably ill-advised, but we’ve gotten away with it for so long. Jamys being here highlights the fact that we are almost out of time. I’m not ready for it to be over.
I sigh and turn to face him. “How do I look?”
His blue eyes scan me for evidence of our escapade. “Perfect.”
I school my face into a serene smile. “Enjoy the rest of the evening then.” I turn away and retrace my path in reverse back to the ball.
The festivities roll on, dancing and drinking and flirting hopefully stopping anyone from noticing my absence. Grandmother catches me in her sights and prowls toward me. The two things I have been most masterful of since my betrothal are hiding my affair and avoiding my grandmother. As a former queen-consort, she wants to offer me guidance, but I don’t want to face that future yet. I scan the room and spot Jamys and Josslyn. Ironically, the very future I don’t want to discuss with Grandmother is the escape.
“How are we enjoying the party?” I loop my arm through Jo’s with a smile.
She inspects me more meticulously than her brother did, and I wonder if she can tell. “It’s lovely, of course. Are you being badgered more than usual now?”
I shrug. “A few hours into my new role, I can’t say it feels particularly different.”
Her lips tug up on one side in a thoughtful way. “I’ve got to make my rounds as well. If you’ll excuse me.” She dips her chin and drifts away.
My gaze meets Jamys’, and avoiding Grandmother seems like a terrible mistake. Being alone with him when a familiar soreness still lingers between my legs turns my stomach to lead. I can’t continue like this with Jamys around.
“Are you feeling well?” Jamys asks.
“Yes, I…” I glance around, searching for an excuse. “I need some fresh air.” My smile comes more naturally now. “It’s more important to me than most.”
“I’d be happy to escort you outside. Unless you want to be alone.” The last part is added hastily with a self-conscious undertone. I don’t doubt he means it, but I’d feel even more guilty to leave him behind now.
I hook my hand in the crook of his elbow. “Thank you.”
Outside, an unbidden breeze caresses my face, reminding me this was no mere excuse. I do need to get out into the fresh air often. My relaxing makes the disparity between us evident. Jamys is rigid and unnaturally still except for his legs carrying him forward. I hope it’s not because of me.
“Are celebrations in Alchos quite different from what you’re used to?” He furrows his brow at my question. “You seem tense. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here or with me.”
His cheek pinches in where he bites it. “Arabella, my only discomfort is in guessing that you didn’t expect your marriage to go this way.”
“Jamys, I’m a princess. I had no reason to believe it would be any different.” Except for the part where I had just bedded another man. “I consider myself lucky it’s someone I know and like.” The words are true but hollow. My betrothal could have been so much worse. Of course, my parents wouldn’t force me into something I was adamantly against, but it would have to be abominable for me to fight them on it. Arguing against such a thing would require profound motivation.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Jamys’ smile is uneasy.
I don’t deserve gallantry from him, but I want to loosen his nerves for his own sake. So, I go with my typical contingency—sarcasm. “You, on the other hand, have the dreadful luck of being stuck with me.”
That turns his smile warm. “That’s not it at all. I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“You’re a prince and heir to a throne. It isn’t as if I’m settling.”