Stephen scoped the area with a sly glance, then leaned toward her. “Nathaniel and Susanna are taking a few days at Parrsons House. You’re invited. If you care to come.”
“I’m invited. By the family I rudely walked out on Sunday night?”
“Don’t make us out to be insensitive clods.” Agitated, he shifted his stance, taking the weight from his booted ankle. “Do you want to come or not? Nathaniel and Susanna want to leave tomorrow.”
“Do youwantme to come?” Their eyes met, but only for a moment.
“I–it might be pleasant.”
“Your confidence is killing me.”
“Hey, do you want to go or not? Never mind, I’ll come for you at eleven sharp.” He walked off into a gathering of well-dressed men and women, waiting in audience for him, cameras flashing.
Corina bit back her grin. She was spending time in the country with her husband and his family. How lovely.
Now, to register for the auction and see about acquiring a treasured Pissarro.
TWENTY-TWO
Gigi
Her nose for news itched like a flea-bitten hound. Gigi pushed away from her desk and walked toward the window, hands on her hips, watching the river lap against the embankment.
The front page of theInformantran a grainy image of Prince Stephen at a fund-raiser last night, and don’t you just know, Corina Del Rey stood in the background.
Something was up, yet something also lurked beneath the surface.
Not to mention her boots-on-the-ground minions were failing her left and right. Not one had any intel on Corina or the prince.
Reaching for her phone, Gigi fired off a text to Corina.
ARTAUCTION? W/ PRINCE. DOTELL.
NOTHING TO TELL.
Gigi paced to the window. Twin sailboats glided down the river toward the arched causeway, cutting through shards of sunlight.
She was just going to have to be persistent. Back at her desk, she fired off an e-mail.
To: Madeline Stone
Subject: Love this recipe
Any intel on Prince Stephen and Corina Del Rey will be well worth your while.
GB
Wednesday evening, as the sun set over the country estate, Stephen bent over the makeshift boules court.
A bit of Joplin ragtime played from under the lawn tent, where Mum and Henry reclined, holding hands in the space between their chairs, listening to music and watching the game.
A breeze chugged up from the surrounding valley, cool and sweet, fragrant with the dewy, dark earth of Brighton. Caught in the current, Corina’s long, free hair billowed behind her back as she looked on, waiting for Nathaniel and Stephen to set up the court.
The drive to Parrsons from the city this morning had been pleasant, as if they’d determined without words to justbe, forgetting the difficulty between them.
But being around Corina reminded him of why he adored her. She challenged his carefully carved spaces. She made him laugh. She made him want to be more, to test his boundaries, to be the man he was meant to be.
“Okay, we’re ready,” Nathaniel said with one last inspection of the court.
