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“People will talk, you know,” she murmured.
He crossed his free arm over his chest and covered her hand with his, telling himself it was the gentlemanly thing to do. It had nothing to do with welcoming any excuse to touch her. “Do you care, Your Highness?”
She gave a dismissive laugh. “If I let myself worry every time someone gossiped about me, I’d be a nervous wreck.”
The only tremors he could feel in her were at his touch, possibly a product of his wishful thinking. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there? Where would you like to begin?”
“My brother’s group, if you’d kindly help me over to them.”
Would Maxim recognize him and expose his identity to her? There was nothing for it but to comply. The prince was chatting amiably to a group, all masked as Bryce was. He hadn’t been at the castle long enough to recognize many people, even without masks, so he didn’t bother trying. Instead, he concentrated on Giselle’s melodious conversation as she did her royal duty as hostess. Her presence had added an unexpected fillip to an occasion he hadn’t expected to enjoy in the least.
The other guests were concerned about her, of course. Surprised to see her on her feet, Bryce gathered from their comments. “Clark kindly volunteered to help me get around,” she said in a mischievous tone.
Bryce couldn’t see Prince Maxim’s frown of puzzlement as he tried to place the newcomer, but it was in his voice as he said, “Clark?”
“My secret identity for tonight, Your Highness,” Bryce explained, feeling himself color under his own mask. Entertaining the princess was one thing. He hadn’t planned on taking the joke any further.
“He came to my rescue when everyone else neglected me,” she went on.
“The day you suffer neglect, my dear Giselle, the world comes to an end,” Maxim observed. To Bryce, he said, “Normally I can’t get near her for the men swarming around her.”
“Perhaps when I’m able to dance,” she grumbled. “Today I can barely manage a few steps without assistance.”
Maxim’s gaze went to her arm linked with Bryce’s. “You don’t seem to be suffering greatly at this moment.”
He was right, she wasn’t. Her foot throbbed, but the mystery of her benefactor’s identity provided a welcome distraction. Maxim had given no sign that he recognized her escort, so her brother wasn’t going to be much help. She would have to figure this out on her own.
Although she was consumed with curiosity about the imposing stranger, part of her wanted the mystery to continue. Behind the mask he could be any man she imagined, her Prince Charming if she so chose.
She told herself she was being capricious, but decided it couldn’t hurt for one night. Soon she would be recovered enough to return to her royal duties. Added to the affairs of the trust, and her teaching commitments at the castle school, she would have little time for fantasy.
And that reminded her.
“I must arrange a meeting with you and Eduard, while he’s still in Taures Province.”
“Could we discuss that another time?” Maxim asked mildly enough, although Bryce heard the steely undercurrent in his tone.
Giselle’s head came up. “You’ve avoided discussing it elsewhere, so you leave me little choice. Eduard returns to Valmont in two more days.”
Bryce let his glance follow Maxim’s to where a tall, dark-haired man was holding court. Eduard, Marquis of Merrisand, his prodigious memory supplied. He was so well known that no mask could conceal his identity.
Maxim made an impatient sound. “If it helps, I’ve already spoken to Eduard about your desire to be appointed Keeper of the Castle.”
“And?”
Bryce heard the expectancy in her tone and wondered at it. Maxim presently held the dual titles of administrator of the Merrisand Trust and Keeper of the Castle. Giselle evidently hoped to take over the latter position herself. The Keeper was responsible for overseeing most of the day-to-day running of the castle, a big job for such slender shoulders, Bryce thought.
“We agree that you’re well qualified, but Eduard is as constrained by the terms of the Merrisand Charter as I am,” Maxim stated.
She turned to Bryce. “What do you think of a charter created two hundred years ago that excludes women from the position of Keeper unless they are married?”
Bryce tried for diplomacy. “I’d have to know more about the circumstances.”
She wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily. “What would you like to know?”
“For example, does the restriction apply only to women?”
“Unfortunately it does,” Maxim interceded, sounding uneasy about the admission.
Bryce knew how his daughter would feel about that. Evidently the princess felt the same way. He didn’t entirely blame her. He couldn’t see the point of squandering half the world’s talents through an accident of gender. Something he had been unable to make Amanda’s maternal grandmother understand, or they might have parted on better terms. “Can’t the rules be updated?” he asked.
“According to the charter, any changes must be put to the people of Taures province in a referendum. If they vote in favor, the change takes effect five years and one day from the date of the referendum.”
Too long for Giselle to wait, he gathered when he felt her tense on his arm. “Isn’t that a touch excessive?” he asked.
“The charter’s history is complicated,” the princess said. “Perhaps you know that the Merrisand title was conferred on our ancestor as an insult, after he fell out with the reigning monarch of the period.”
Bryce searched his memory. “Merrisand being a term for a fool’s paradise in Carramer folklore.” In an effort to stir Amanda’s interest in the move, he had suggested she research the castle’s history on the Internet. She had gleefully reported the fool’s paradise connection to him, sounding as if she thought the description still fitted.
“As I understand it, the first marquis turned the tables on his brother by establishing a charitable trust to help children in need, then built this castle to fund the trust’s good works. What started out as an insult became one of the most respected names in the kingdom,” he went on.
Giselle seemed pleased with his knowledge. “Our ancestor had the five-year moratorium written into the charter to make sure the monarch couldn’t meddle easily in the trust’s affairs.”
“Those two really got along, didn’t they?”
She sneaked a glance at her brother, whose attention had been claimed by another guest. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Not a one.” After he was born his parents had tried for more children without success. Part of the reason for the intense interest his grandfather took in Bryce, he suspected. As his parents’ sole heir, he carried all of his grandfather’s expectations on his shoulders.
“Then you don’t know how fierce sibling rivalry can get.”
Although she couldn’t see it, he lifted an eyebrow. “Even among royalty?”
“We’re still human. Oh.”
He felt her sag in his grasp and reached for a chair with his free hand, spinning it around so he could ease her into it. “Perhaps you should sit the rest of the ball out, Princess.”
His hands on her arms felt so warm and confident that she wished she could spend the entire evening in his company. Not possible, of course. Her duty didn’t permit it. Emboldened because she was now part of a group, other guests had begun to drift toward her.
When her mystery man stepped back to allow them to approach, it was all she could do not to grasp his hand and hold him at her side. She wanted to know who he was and why she found him so compelling.
At midnight, when the masks came off, she would have her answers, she promised herself as she pinned a smile of greeting to her face.
Ignoring the discomfort in her foot, she welcomed her guests and made polite conversation. Chatted, smiled until her jaw ached. Ate some of the lavish supper the castle chefs had created. Listened to the music and attempted not to feel too left out of the dancing.
And hoped she wasn’t watching the clock too obviously.
Chapter Two
For the rest of the night, Bryce found it a strain being sociable. He knew why and he didn’t like it. None of the other guests at the ball had captured his interest as totally as Princess Giselle.
It took enormous self-discipline to keep his glance from repeatedly straying to where she held court. The silvery peal of her laughter drew his attention like a magnet, making him pulse with desires he didn’t want to feel. Not for any woman, but especially not for someone so inappropriate.
During the move to Merrisand, Amanda had shown him an article in a magazine linking the princess with one of Carramer’s more famous exports, movie actor Robert Gaudet. He was in Hollywood at present, developing a new film project that his production company planned to make in Carramer. The article suggested that the princess’s injury was the only thing preventing her from being with him. The actor was supposedly so much in love with her that their marriage was a foregone conclusion.
The article also mentioned the princess’s many teaching and charitable activities for the Merrisand Trust and Bryce wondered how they would fit in with a Hollywood lifestyle.
He didn’t normally pay attention to such things but had been prepared to encourage anything that made Amanda happier about the move to Merrisand. He had read the article to please her, deciding that his daughter could have a worse idol than the hardworking princess.
He tried to tell himself he was glad Giselle was involved with someone. Even if she hadn’t been a princess, he had nothing to offer her, either emotionally or materially. His wife’s illness had drained him of both the capacity and the will to put himself through such torment again. And until he put his financial affairs in order, he had little to offer any woman.
The logic didn’t quench his desire to look at Giselle, and keep looking.
He thought he’d resisted the temptation fairly successfully until he became aware that his dance partner had stopped moving. He forced his attention back to her. “Is something the matter?”
“Perhaps we should dance over to the other side of the room before you get a crick in your neck from turning that way.”
He had asked the woman to dance in order to banish Giselle from his mind. Giving her name as Elaine, she obviously expected Bryce to reciprocate. When he hadn’t, she had volunteered that she was the princess’s equerry and had been away in Taures with her boss until recently.
When Bryce reminded Elaine that their identities were supposed to remain secret until midnight, she had sounded frustrated but had danced with him readily enough. “You’re new to Merrisand, aren’t you?” she commented as he swung her into a waltz.
“Very.” He knew she expected more from him, but didn’t feel inclined to elaborate. He hadn’t danced since Yvette became too ill, and was regretting the impulse to start again now. Not because Elaine wasn’t a good dancer. She was light on her feet and followed his lead easily. And behind her striking gold mask, her features hinted at attractiveness. No, he was the problem, feeling uncomfortable holding her in his arms.
Strange. He hadn’t felt that way when he assisted the princess earlier. She had fitted against his side as if she belonged there. Also missing was the tug of guilt he’d so often felt after catching himself enjoying some small pleasure. Yvette had been such a generous soul that she wouldn’t want him to feel guilty on her account, yet he hadn’t been able to dismiss the feeling.
Until this evening.
“My mind was wandering,” he told Elaine. True enough.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she murmured, matching her steps to his as he picked up the rhythm again.
“It’s nothing personal. I’m out of practice at this.” Also true.
“She is lovely, isn’t she?” Elaine said.
He didn’t insult her by pretending not to know who she meant. “Yes. Also very popular.” The crowd around Giselle had only lessened for the interval while supper was served.
“You wouldn’t be the first man at the castle to fall in love with her.”
Bryce felt his muscles tighten and made an effort to relax them. “You sound just like my daughter.”
He could almost hear Elaine’s thoughts as she added this up. Out of practice at dancing, and with a daughter. Therefore probably widowed or divorced. “How old is your daughter?”
As he heard the interest in her voice sharpen, he regretted even more asking her to dance. Then he reminded himself that he was the one using her to take his mind off the princess. “Ten, and an authority on celebrities, courtesy of her favorite magazine, Fame and Fortune.”
“I read that magazine, too. They did an article recently about the princess and Robert Gaudet.”
He nodded. “According to the writer, they’re practically engaged.”
Now who was fishing? he thought. As Giselle’s right-hand woman, Elaine could be expected to know whether there was any truth in the article. He told himself he was merely curious.
Elaine’s smile became artful. “You’d have to ask Her Highness about that.”
He had to admire her discretion, although he couldn’t help wondering who else her reticence was serving. As long as Giselle was committed to the actor, Bryce was wasting his time fantasizing about her. Especially when there was a lovely, available woman much closer to hand. Or so he could imagine Elaine wanting him to think.
Maybe she was right. He had worried for some time that Amanda was suffering for lack of a mother’s influence. He had tried to compensate by letting her spend time with her maternal grandmother, until he became aware that Babette was spoiling her hopelessly.
He thought he understood his mother-in-law’s motives. Having lost her daughter, she was afraid of losing Amanda, too. Bryce hadn’t been able to make her see that being overly indulgent wouldn’t help.
When Babette and Lyle Monroe learned that he was taking Amanda away from Nuee, they had acted as if he was taking their child away instead of their granddaughter. Provoked by their example, Amanda had accused him of ruining her life. She still had bouts of difficult behavior, too many for his peace of mind sometimes. He hoped that by removing her from her grandparents’ influence, he would eventually make her understand that his decision had been for her good.
The dance ended and he thanked Elaine. On impulse, he asked, “Would you like some champagne?”
Under her mask she looked flushed, whether with the dancing, or at his offer, he didn’t know. Had she expected him to desert her the moment the music stopped? He wasn’t proud of having considered the idea.
“Champagne would be lovely, thank you.”
He signaled to a passing waiter and lifted two flutes from his tray, gave one to her and toasted her with his own. “Thank you for your patience.” It was more than he deserved.
She drank the toast without comment. “Will I see you again?”
He couldn’t bring himself to promise anything while his gaze kept being pulled on invisible strings to where Giselle sat among her admirers.
Among a crowd of glittering people, she seemed to glow. Everything about her, from her crowned head to her slippered feet, shone with a brilliance that threatened to dazzle him. The mask prevented him from seeing all of her face but he had seen her picture often enough to know that her skin was flawless and porcelain toned, her opalescent gaze deep enough for a man to drown in.
He felt desire stirring, and warning bells rang in his brain. It didn’t escape him that her lack of availability might be the reason he felt so strongly attracted to her. Coward, he told himself. Fixating on a woman he couldn’t have was one way to avoid getting back into a game he had sworn he had given up two years before.
He hauled in a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something noncommittal to Elaine, but she spoke first. “It’s almost midnight. I should see if the princess needs me for anything.” She replaced the champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. “Thanks for the dance.”
Bryce inclined his head in agreement. “Thank you, Elaine. I’ll see you around the castle.”
But she was already weaving her way through the crowd to Giselle’s side. He wasn’t sure she’d heard him.
Elaine was exactly the sort of woman he should be interested in, he told himself. She was attractive, with a good sense of humor and the patience of a saint to put up with his inattention tonight, and she was obviously interested in him. She had even shown an interest in Amanda. What more did he need?
Fireworks, that’s what. Candlelit dinners. Nights on satin sheets. The whole romantic ball of wax. The kind he’d known with Yvette, when they were starry-eyed with the wonder of love and the joy of their beautiful girl child.
At first they hadn’t known anything was wrong, blaming the demands of a young child on Yvette’s constant feeling of lethargy. When it persisted, she’d consulted doctor after doctor, being referred to one specialist after another. None could say with certainty why stray proteins were cluttering up her blood, and what it meant.
Not that a precise diagnosis would have made much difference. Over the years, despite valiant efforts at treatment, she had grown progressively weaker until she had begged him to make the doctors stop trying. Contrarily, once they did, she had rallied, giving him a glimmer of hope that she might recover against all odds.
When she started to spiral down again, he had sought out alternative therapies, from vitamin treatments to people who could supposedly heal by touch, anything and everything. For a short time her condition would seem to improve, only to continue once more on her inexorable downward path.
Even then, they had managed to snatch happiness from despair. Yvette had never been one for self-pity, and she had loved romance. He remembered bringing her a single Carramer orchid, a perfect specimen in a vivid cerulean hue that reflected her eyes. They had filled with tears of pleasure at the sight of the bloom.
At an earlier, happier time, they had picnicked with Amanda in the rain forest on the slopes of Mount Mayat, not far from the Nuee Trail, where young riders pitted themselves against the mountain in a rite of passage to adulthood.
Watching a group of riders set out, Yvette had spoken of her dream to one day ride the trail as a family. He wasn’t sure if anyone else had done that, and his excitement had quickened at the prospect. Not of conquering the mountain, but of sharing the adventure with the two most important people in his world.
Amanda had taken her first steps that day, he recalled, his mouth curving in nostalgia. The moment had been as much a rite of passage for her as riding the trail had been for the teenagers. He could still see his golden child pushing herself to her feet on the blanket and stumbling toward her mother, her baby eyes wide with astonishment at her own achievement.
That night he and Yvette had celebrated the milestone with a truly spectacular lovemaking, afterward wondering if they had created a brother or sister for Amanda. He had enjoyed ten magical years with Yvette, filling them with laughter and romance in spite of everything, because they had been determined to make it so.
After that, how could he settle for less?
The long and the short of it was, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. The pain accompanying the memories was too sharp. Unthinkable to put himself through it a second time.
A pang gripped him. How had he gone from thinking about a mother for Amanda, to dreaming of romance, and being gripped by needs so strong he could practically taste them? Not because of Elaine, he knew. There was only one woman in the ballroom capable of making him feel like this, and she didn’t even know she had done it.
He suspected that Princess Giselle would be horrified at his thinking. She had her own romantic agenda, and he wasn’t part of it. In spite of the rumors about her and Robert Gaudet, Bryce had caught her disapproving reaction at hearing that she could only become Keeper of the Castle if she was married. Much as she obviously coveted the job, the princess didn’t strike him as a woman who could be forced into anything.
It didn’t stop him from wanting her.
Giselle’s equerry rose from a deep curtsy. “It’s almost midnight, Your Highness. I came to see if there’s anything you need.”
“Very thoughtful of you, but there’s nothing for the moment. Have you enjoyed the ball?”
“I’ve had a great time. From the talk around me, this is the best Spring Ball ever.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She saw Elaine’s glance go to her bandaged foot. “I realize it hasn’t been fun for you, but…”
“It’s all right, Elaine. I may not have been on the dance floor but I’ve talked my head off tonight.” With the ease of long practice she stifled a yawn before anyone saw her. “Speaking of dancing, you seemed to enjoy the last waltz.”
She saw her assistant color under the mask. “I had a fascinating partner. He wouldn’t give me a single clue to his identity.”
Me neither, Giselle thought, stifling her disappointment along with another yawn. She had hoped Elaine might have learned something about her mystery man.
He wasn’t her mystery man, she reminded herself. He was either a friend of Maxim’s or Eduard’s, or a castle employee and she would have her answer as soon as the masks came off. No mystery about him.
“He did say he’s new to the castle,” Elaine volunteered.
All Giselle had to do was access the castle’s security files and find out who had been given clearance to attend tonight’s ball. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She could eliminate the guests she knew by sight, and those who had, contrary to custom, told her their names. She had been assisting her brother to administer the Merrisand Trust since she was twenty-one. Few names on the guest list would be totally unfamiliar to her.
“He has a ten-year-old daughter, but I’m willing to bet he isn’t married,” Elaine said.
Annoyed to feel a sudden sharpening of interest, Giselle asked, “What makes you think so?”
“He told me he’s out of practice at dancing, and he came to the ball alone.”
She told herself she was only interested for her equerry’s sake, not her own. She had known Elaine since they were both teenagers, so they were as close to being friends as Giselle’s position allowed. She didn’t want to see the other woman get hurt.
“His partner may have stayed at home with their child,” the princess suggested, not liking the agitation that accompanied this idea.
Elaine chewed her lip. “It could explain why he didn’t seem eager to see me again, although I dropped a few hints. Not even to meet when the masks come off, so he can find out what I look like. Perhaps you’re right, he already has a partner.”
“Perhaps.” To her frustration, Giselle found out she didn’t want to be right for once.
“Did you speak to Prince Maxim and the Marquis about becoming Keeper of the Castle?” Elaine asked.
They 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.
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