“Lady Royal?”Scottie jerked up, away from Michael, who disappeared into the space between the crystal lighting.Hamish Fickle approached, surprisingly splendid in his tuxedo and parliament member sash.He stopped in front of her, gave a curt bow, and smiled.When not fighting the world, he was handsome and somehow, a little bit taller.“We didn’t speak much at dinner last night, but I must convey the gratitude my family and I feel for what you’ve done for us.”
“I hope you will be more kind to the Family now.”
His laugh was robust.“It does seem rather ironic, doesn’t it?I was engaging in a one-sided family feud.”A slight blush ran over his high, slightly freckled cheeks.“You heard about my conversation with Her Majesty.”
“Yes, and congratulations, Duke of Midlands.I hear she’s announcing your title and the restoration of some lands at midnight.”
“Yes, we agreed it was the perfect hour to symbolize the start of a new day, a new era, between the Blues and the Fickles,” he said.“I woke up this morning with so many questions settled.Questions I didn’t know to ask.Our whole family has changed.We’re gathering next weekend, and family members who have not spoken in decades are traveling from across Europe to be there.”The duke looked away as he cleared his voice.“The truth brought us salvation.I need to thank the Cross contingent as well.I’ve been humbled greatly by all of this.”
“I wish you the best, Lord Midlands.”He smiled when she used his title.“Good luck to you, and I mean it.”
“One more thing, Lady Royal.I want to apologize.I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused, even putting you in danger.I’ve been boorish and unkind since you arrived on our shores, and all you wanted was to know your mum.None of us ask for our birth rank and right, and while I was going about trying to destroy yours, you were restoring mine.”Slowly but with ease, Hamish Fickle bent to one knee, then two.“I am your humble servant, Lady Royal.”An honest smile lit his face.“I’ve never understood true mercy until you.Can you forgive me?”
“Of course.”Scottie drew Hamish into a southern gal embrace.“Grudges cost more than any of us can pay.Now use your powers for good.”
He laughed.“Understood, miss.”
“Also, buy me a pint tomorrow night at the Belly of the Beast.It’s my last night here.I fly home the day after.”
“It will be my honor.Eight o’clock?”
“Eight o’clock.”
As Hamish disappeared toward the stairs and into a swirl of dancers, Scottie searched for Michael, but Lennox guarded her back.Michael was off, swallowed up by duty somewhere in the glittering crowd.
She inhaled and pressed her hand to the bodice of her gown, the reality of the last eight weeks settling on her.Being here for Kate.Uncovering a long-buried House of Blue secret.And surprise of surprises, falling in love.
“Hey, sister of mine.”Her prince of a brother Gus strode her way, wearing his white and winning smile, a replica of Kate’s.“Come dance.”He grabbed her hand and led her toward the stairs.“I just got home and you’re leaving.Should I take it personal?”
“Should I take it personal you left before I arrived?”
Laughing, he spun her onto the dance floor where one dance turned into another and another.She’d never danced nor laughed so much—even during the Scott farm’s Fourth of July square dance—in one evening.
She waltzed with her brothers, reeled with her stepfather, the kings of Brighton Kingdom and Luxembourg, and the Grand Duke from the Grand Duchy of Hessenberg—Tanner, who was married to the Grand Duchess, Regina.
At the punch table, she accepted a crystal cup of lemonade, then spying the opened doors to the portico, she rushed out, craving a gulp of fresh air.Sneaking around the ballroom and ducking behind a gathering of men and women with port and cigars, she then kicked off her heels and skipped down the ballroom steps and raced across the soft grass and purple heather toward the original ancient pillars that once fortified a fort watching over the cliffs.
The lights and music from the ballroom chased her into the moon’s glow and the symphony of the North Sea.She leapt onto the stone base and leaned into a thick, scarred column.
With a sigh, head back, eyes closed, she tried to memorize every detail of the evening and how she truly felt like a princess.Was any of this real?Was she truly in love?
Please, don’t let me wake up six months from now, or maybe a year, straightening up from my drawing table, back aching, and wondering if all of this had only been a dream.
“Beg pardon, miss, would you care to dance?”Michael stepped onto the portico, his arms open, the moonlight in his eyes.
“What have you been doing since our alcove kiss?”Scottie moved past his hands and into his arms, locking against him and brushing her lips against his.
“Watching over you.What a jolly time you were having on the dance floor.”Michael clasped his arms about her, deepening their kiss with a breath, gently swaying to their own music.“I fell for you all over again.”
“I love you, Michael Cross.”
“Yes, well saying such a thing won’t do when I want to scold you for wandering off alone.Again.”
“It’s our thing, you know?”She roped her arms about his neck.“I run off.You come find me.”
“Do you know Lauchtenland’s legend of love?”he asked, still swaying to their private lullaby.
“I do.Why do you ask?”
