She'd come out today determined to show him that she wasn't weak. That maybe she wasn't as cool and collected as Tirith, but neither was she as weak as she'd seemed when she'd had the panic attack. She didn't want to admit to herself why his good opinion mattered so.
Across the lawn, tents had been set up for the spectators, who were now gathering. She supposed she was meant to be over there, smiling and politicking.
She didn't want to.
One of the uniformed polo players approached, and she realized for the first time that Luc was in uniform, the dark green checked shirt molding to the curves of his shoulders.
The other player nodded to her.
Luc made introductions. "Princess Tirith, may I present my friend Jean Marc? Jean Marc, her highness."
She accepted the quick handshake, didn't miss the speculative glance she received from the other man.
"I didn't know your highness had a fondness for horses,” Jean Marc said, “or I’d have twisted Luc’s arm for an introduction long before now."
Luc slid his friend a sideways glance. "Did I say friend? I meant associate... more of a passing acquaintance, really."
Jean Marc laughed, but then turned serious. "Luc, I have some bad news. Everett just called me from the ER. He had an unfortunate incident with a cake and a flight of stairs."
Luc’s smile faded. "What about Roberts?"
"Out of the country," Jean Marc said. He looked to Maggie, making sure to include her. "He was our substitute."
"So we're short a player," Luc said.
"It appears so."
Maggie glanced to the tent where the younger players had gathered. She could see one of the teens speaking animatedly to a couple that might have been his parents.
"Perhaps we can play with seven," Jean Marc said.
"Or I could join," Maggie said.
Jean Marc's head snapped to her, but she couldn't look away from Luc, whose eyes had gone wide.
"Your highness, I did not know you could ride," Jean Marc said in the polite way that she was sure everyone used to mollify her sister.
"I've had lessons," she demurred. "It's a charity match—meant for fun. Correct?"
“I’ll see if I can find an extra uniform.” Jean Marc left them alone.
Luc frowned. He took her elbow and leaned in close. "Are you trying to be found out?" He smiled and waved at someone across the lawn, but his voice was low and almost furious when he continued. "Tirith isn't known for her riding."
"Our father is a rancher," she reminded him. "It can't be out of the question for her to ride."
He shook his head. "So you'll pretend to be a barely passable rider. Disaster averted."
His sarcasm was not lost on her. "Won't most of the spectators be focusing on the children? That's the focus of today's event, isn't it?"
He sighed. "Princess, it's impossible for anyone to focus on anything but you." He didn't sound happy about it.
"Is this about protecting your event? Or is it about protecting me? Because I don't need your protection." But how could he know that when she'd blubbered all over him at the garden party? Surely he thought she was a foolish, over-emotional woman.
He started to answer, then snapped his jaws closed when a young woman with a bundle of clothing in hand came and fetched Maggie to change.
In minutes, she had donned the uniform of the team that would play opposite Luc’s. Good. Maybe a little distance would benefit them both.
Maggie met the green team, shaking hands all around and exchanging pleasantries. And then turned to her own.
