Or maybe she just didn’t like showing weakness before anyone.
“I would like to spend more time with you.” Eddy didn’t seem to have noticed her rejection. “May I ask your father for permission to court you?”
“You…what?”
Eddy smiled. The part of Hélène that was a teenage girl registered how dazzling a smile it was—how breathtakingly attractive he looked in his navy jacket and crisp white shirt, which fit perfectly over his lean, muscled frame. But it was also an indulgent, pleased smile, as if Eddy felt inordinately proud of himself for doing Hélène this favor.
The sad thing was, he was right. Most men wouldn’t have bothered checking with Hélène; they would have gone straight to her father. Exchanging her like a piece of property, man to man, the way these things were always done.
“May I ask your father for permission to court you?” he said again.
“What, tomarryme?”
Eddy’s grin widened. His gaze traveled over her with deliberate slowness, from her face all the way down to the hem of her gown, making Hélène’s breath catch.
“Yes, to marry you,” he drawled. “I’m hardly courting you to be my mistress, Hélène.”
There was a hint of challenge in that statement. Hélène sensed that Eddy was trying to get the measure of her: to gauge just what sort of princess she was, exactly. He would neverhave said that word,mistress,to Alix of Hesse—wouldnever have spoken to her in this low, taunting tone.
But then, Alix of Hesse wouldn’t dream of riding astride, or marching into the forbidden sanctum of the men’s lounge.
Hélène’s eyes flicked up to meet his.
“It won’t work. They will never let you court me.”
Eddy leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “Who, your family?”
“Or yours! I’mCatholic.”
She’d expected that to put a swift end to things, but Eddy waved away her remark. “I’m not bothered by that. I promise to let you practice your religion in peace.”
“Your Royal Highness—”
“Eddy,” he corrected, his voice low and meaningful.
“Eddy. You’re the future head of the Church of England,” she reminded him. “You can’t marry a Catholic.”
“I don’t see why not.” He spoke with the easy confidence of someone used to getting his way.
“Because! The last time your country had a Catholic queen, it brought down an entiredynasty!” Hélène hissed. Anne Hyde, the wife of James II, had been so devoutly Catholic that she had converted her husband—which ended in the Stuarts being sent into exile.
Eddy stepped forward. She was startled when he ran his hands down her arms, from her shoulders all the way to her palms, which he caught in his own. She had, typically, left her gloves in the box, and the feel of his skin on hers sent shivers down her spine.
After all the ways they had already spurned propriety, she supposed this one didn’t really matter.
“Please, Hélène. I just want to spend more time with you. Don’t you feel the same way?”
“Your family is probably planning your engagement to someone else,” she forced herself to say.
A sheepish expression darted across his face. “There’s no formal understanding between me and Alix, if that’s what you’re worried about. Grandmother expects us to start courting, but in truth…I’m not sure it will work out.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, Hélène yanked her hands away, stung.
Eddywas the reason that Alix was in hysterics tonight.
“I can’t believe you.” Her voice was trembling with outrage. “You rejected Alix, then came straight to propositionme?”
“No! As I said, nothing has been agreed upon, or even—”
