She gave me a sickly-sweet smile, and I narrowed my eyes and turned away.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 18
Keira
Although a conveniently placed table setting hid Princess’s Alexandra’s inappropriate groping from most of the room, I could hardly have been more ideally placed to see it. My blood boiled and my arm automatically moved to draw back the now empty tray I was carrying, ready to whack the Swedish princess sturdily about the head with it. But, fortunately for my future employment prospects, I didn’t follow through. It wasn’t good sense that stopped me—the sight of that hand tightening on Andrew’s crotch had sent any good sense I might’ve had straight out the window—it was Andrew himself.
More specifically, it was Andrew’s reaction. The old Andrew might’ve been startled but would’ve still welcomed the overfamiliar intrusion. He would’ve enjoyed it and then made the excuse that he was a man and couldn’t be expected to control how his body naturally responded to a beautiful woman touching up and down his crotch. But instead, he’d exhibited extreme discomfort, and not just from shock; he simply didn’t want this woman touching him. He removed her hand and, when they sat back down after the toast, placed a napkin over his lap in an attempt to protect himself, to some small extent at least, against future attacks. Most importantly, he did all of this without knowing that I was still watching his every move. So he wasn’t doing it to keep me happy, he was doing it because he didn’t want Alexandra’s attention. Maybe it sounded arrogant, but I knew the reason why, and I felt a smug warmth drift through me.
He was my man.
To my further delight, when the incident was over, Andrew happened to glance back and notice me still standing there across the room. The situation being what it was, there was little he could do in the way of public displays of affection, but he shot a smile at me. It was just a smile, but then again it wasn’t. To me, there was so much contained in that simple smile. They say that couples who have been together for years lose the need for speech, and can communicate together without a word ever passing between them. Andrew and I had been together for hardly any time at all, and yet already, a look could convey a world of meaning. In this case, it said ‘I love you, and I would rather be curled up with you on a sofa eating day-old pizza than at a banquet with anyone else.’
I hoped that the look I replied with expressed my own feelings just as clearly.
The banquet seemed to last an age, but when it was finally over, the guests quickly filed out to have nightcaps in a sitting room, Andrew included. By the time the tables were cleared, the floors swept and the servants finally dismissed, I found that I wasn’t really tired. Even though I’d been working for hours, it’d been quite an occasion, and I was still wide awake and full of energy. I decided to go to one of the Castle’s galleries. Looking at beautiful paintings always calmed me, and a half hour spent gazing at works of art would get my system in a much better state for sleep.
Unlike the galleries in Richmond, those in Wellington Castle were open to the public almost daily, so I didn’t need any special permission to go and look, provided I didn’t look too closely as infra-red alarm systems guarded the precious items. There’d been something very special about having access to the more private and less widely-seen collection at Richmond Palace, but that did nothing to detract from the works on show at Wellington—for all their familiarity, they were still old masters that equaled anything in the great galleries of the world.
I strolled in and let the gentle silent ambience of the gallery flow over me and calm my buzzing mind. All the problems of the world seemed to fade when I was in a gallery, my own concerns drifting away in the happy firmament of art. Time had no meaning here, and I couldn’t have said how long I’d been standing and viewing the paintings when a sound caught my attention. I turned to see a figure silhouetted in the open doorway. The darkness of the gallery contrasted with the light from the hallway left the figure’s face obscured, but I knew who it was as soon as I heard the slightly accented voice.
“They said that I might find you in here,” Princess Alexandra said.
It was no secret amongst the other servants that I was addicted to art and spent a lot of my downtime in the galleries.
“Is there something you need, your Highness?” I asked in my most respectful tone. I might not like this woman, but serving her was still my job, and besides, it wasn’t Alexandra’s fault that her family had been trying to marry her off to the man I loved, who happened to be the father of my unborn child.