Hélène stared at him. “You’re the future king. You belong here more than anyone.”
“Yet my family would exile me, given half a chance.” Eddy said it flatly, the way he might remark upon the weather. “Grandmother is disappointed in me. I’m not as clever as George, with his books and all his endless correspondence.Did you know he wrote Mother a five-page letter every week while we were in the navy?”
“I never have the patience for long letters, either,” Hélène admitted. “There are better ways to spend that time.”
“Exactly! Grandmother is always scolding me for what she calls my ‘lack of attention.’ She says that a king who can only speak English is an embarrassment. But no matter how hard I tried at Latin or German, it never stuck.”
Hélène nudged her foot playfully into his chest. “Would it help if I taught you some French?”
“It can’t hurt.” A slow smile spread over Eddy’s face. “All I’ve managed thus far isEnchanté, mademoiselle,andVous êtes très belle.”
“An auspicious start,” Hélène teased.
“Très belle,”he repeated, his eyes lifting to meet hers.
The air in the room was suddenly heavy with significance, with anticipation.
Hélène rose to her feet and crossed the two paces to Eddy’s chair. Slowly, she lowered herself to sit on his lap—not the way a child would, with her back to his chest, but wantonly. Face to face.
Eddy held himself very still as she reached around his head to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. His eyes were like pale blue flames.
Hélène dipped her head, lowering her mouth to his.
The kiss was soft at first, surprisingly tender. Eddy’s hands resumed their quest over her body, gliding down her back to settle around her hips. Hélène made a sound of pleasure deep in her throat.
When he pulled back, a question in his gaze, she just nodded. For once, she had no words.
Eddy scooped her up in a single motion and carried her to the bed, where he deposited her atop the coverlet, stretched out alongside her, and resumed their kiss.
Afterward, when Hélène tilted her head onto his chest, she was surprised to feel Eddy momentarily tense—but then his arm folded around her, tugging her closer. She realized that he wasn’t accustomed to this part, that most women he slept with were probably too awed to curl up next to him as if he were an ordinary man.
Princes, it would seem, were quite solitary creatures. Like the wolves that used to roam around her family’s house in Normandy.
Well, that ended now, Hélène thought, twirling a hand over the spot where his heart beat. Eddy might be experienced, but he had a thing or two to learn about intimacy. And she would be only too happy to teach him.
THE SOUND OF CHEERING INTERRUPTEDthe flushed heat of Hélène’s memories. That first night felt so long ago now, though it had only been six months. Six months of illicit moments, of furtive glances at crowded events, of nights that always ended too soon.
The horses stood at the starting line, prancing as the course clerk climbed up to his podium. The trumpeters played a short fanfare, and the roar of noise in the stadium fell abruptly still. The clerk lifted a red-and-yellow flag overhead—then, when the music stopped, he swung it down.
A cloud of dust exploded from behind the starting line.Hélène heard Eddy’s shouts to her left and glanced over, amused; he was as enthusiastic as the laborers in the stands below. The other guests in the Hardwickes’ box began to press around them, leaning on the railing in their curiosity. Epsom Downs was a fast race, usually over in two minutes.
“Orlando!” erupted through the stands when a bay Thoroughbred tore across the finish line.
“Looks like I was right, andSporting Lifewas mistaken.”
Eddy was deliberately looking away from her, the words spoken under his breath, but Hélène was far too attuned to his presence not to hear.
“I suppose I owe you, then.” She matched his casual posture.
“I’ll see you in Scotland,” he replied, unable to hide his smile.
One of the other guests came over to grab Eddy’s attention. Hélène stepped back as if they’d been talking about nothing of importance, forcing herself to glance down at the field. Already grooms were leading the sweating horses away to be curried.
That was when she saw Laurent.
He stood in the open space along the edge of the racetrack, where the cheapest tickets were sold for standing room only. It was clear that he’d been watching her. When their eyes met, he jerked his head to the side with unmistakable intent.
What was hedoinghere? Hélène wished she could turn aside, pretend that she hadn’t seen him, except that then Laurent might cause a scene. She had no choice but to go down and hear him out, whatever he wanted.
