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palacechristian.
“So when does your father leave?” Caeline asked as they strolled along the side of the lake. She was dressed in jeans, sensible boots and a jacket with a fur collar, eminently more sensible clothing than that with which she’d arrived and Christian suspected they were recent purchases. She looked nice and also very relaxed which was gratifying.
“Soon as he can get his schedule clear I guess.” The last couple of weeks of the ‘getting to know you’ had gone remarkably smoothly and Christian acknowledged Caeline’s inherently placid nature as being mostly responsible for it. Sometimes she was a bit . . . clam-like, in that Christian got clear glimpses of the pearl within only to have the shell slam closed as her inbuilt sense of propriety reared it’s ugly head. But those times were getting further and further apart and, he thought, if he were pressed for time and had to make a decision right then and there, it would be an affirmative one. Fortunately though, he didn’t have to and he was happy to take his time, to be absolutely one hundred percent certain that he could spend the rest of his life married to this woman.
Looking at her now, as she strolled by his side through Royal Park, he most definitely found her attractive and desirable. The fresh air brought color to her cheeks and a brightness to her eyes that was often missing in the presence of others, as she tended to subdue her natural exuberance and intelligence whenever her chaperone was around. Out of habit more than anything else, he suspected. Madame Liane was the least spy-like person he’d ever met, but it seemed Caeline’s habit of discretion was deeply ingrained.
Thinking of Madame Liane made him reflect how glad he was that she wasn’t with them today. The woman seemed to have grown to trust him, enough at least to allow Caeline off the leash without his needing Harry as a distraction. She was a nice lady really, just a little too diligent about her charge, a diligence Christian suspected had been impressed on her no uncertain terms by a certain blue-eyed king bent on protecting his sister’s virtue from the depredations of the loose morality of Calerans in general and him in particular.
“He seems so young to be a grandfather.” Caeline smiled at him.
Christian took her hand to help guide her across a patch of rather slippery pebbles on the lake shore and kept hold of it once they were clear, heading them up, away from the water’s edge and onto the meadow.
“He is.” he said. “Not even fifty yet which in your terms is--” he wrinkled his nose, calculating, “--round twenty-five?” She nodded. “Much as he’s looking forward to seeing the children, Gwyn and mother,” Christian told her. “it’s not the real reason he’s going.”
Caeline looked at him enquiringly and Christian, after finding a suitable spot for them to sit down, explained to her at some length about Will and his and Marton’s suspicions. He didn’t think Marton would mind her being told and besides, in order to build trust between them, he had to show trust, this being a perfect opportunity to do so.
“Your father is an amazing man.” she said with a smile. “And a caring one, too. Will sounds very nice and very lucky.” she added.
“I agree.” he grinned. “On all counts. And you’ll like Will. He’s sweet and he’s funny, damned dangerous when he gets an idea in his head but otherwise . . .” He went on to recite some of Will’s most celebrated stunts and by the time he was done, Caeline had tears in her eyes and was holding her sides against the ache.
“Oh dear.” She wiped at her eyes. “I do hope to meet him then.”
“You will.” he said confidently and was then surprised by the cheeky grin and smart retort.
“I will? So I have passed muster so far?” She flicked her ponytail back from her shoulder.
He recovered admirably, reflecting that it was past time he stopped being surprised by Caeline’s abrupt switches. “You will and you have.” he told her sincerely. “How ‘bout me?”
Caeline’s eyebrows shot up. “My opinion counts?”
“Of course it does. To me.” he qualified.
“Then I shall give it.” she said with a smile. “I find you most agreeable and I have no trouble imagining being married to you.” She sat back a little, resting on her arms and tilted her face up into the sunshine for a moment before giving him what Christian could only describe as a calculating look. “Mind you,” she said suddenly. “in order to get what I want, I was fully prepared to make do with whatever the Fates sent me so long as it was Caleran.”
Christian looked at her, stunned. “And what is it that you want?” he asked carefully.
“Freedom.” Caeline looked almost defiant as she spoke. “A chance to escape Erador. Eradorian customs, Eradorian ways. To learn, to help to bring the new world back home to my people, to the women of Erador, and to teach them these new things, show them better ways.”
Christian grinned. “Good for you.” he said softly, gratified beyond belief with her forthright announcement.
“You’re not angry?” Caeline tilted her head to one side and studied him. “I just as good as told you that I’d marry a toad to get what I want.”
“Riddup.” Christian croaked. “Kiss me and I might turn into a prince.”
Caeline laughed aloud and then, some imp of mischief obviously driving her, she leaned across and planted a kiss on his lips.
Looking down at himself, Christian went with the lighthearted mood. “Did it work?” he asked, giving her a plaintive look.
Caeline eyed him critically. “Nope.” she told him, eyes dancing. “I can still see warts.”
Christian shifted closer and cupped her chin. “Have to try it again then, shan’t we?” And kissed her.
The mood changed, softened as Caeline drifted into his arms and into the kiss. He pulled her close and threaded a hand into her hair, keeping the kiss light and chaste, not daring to try for anything deeper just yet. But it felt good and it felt right and when it ended neither one was in any hurry to move away.
“How ‘bout now?” he whispered.
Caeline opened her eyes and looked into his, smiling. “Definitely a prince.” she said.
“So when does your father leave?” Caeline asked as they strolled along the side of the lake. She was dressed in jeans, sensible boots and a jacket with a fur collar, eminently more sensible clothing than that with which she’d arrived and Christian suspected they were recent purchases. She looked nice and also very relaxed which was gratifying.
“Soon as he can get his schedule clear I guess.” The last couple of weeks of the ‘getting to know you’ had gone remarkably smoothly and Christian acknowledged Caeline’s inherently placid nature as being mostly responsible for it. Sometimes she was a bit . . . clam-like, in that Christian got clear glimpses of the pearl within only to have the shell slam closed as her inbuilt sense of propriety reared it’s ugly head. But those times were getting further and further apart and, he thought, if he were pressed for time and had to make a decision right then and there, it would be an affirmative one. Fortunately though, he didn’t have to and he was happy to take his time, to be absolutely one hundred percent certain that he could spend the rest of his life married to this woman.
Looking at her now, as she strolled by his side through Royal Park, he most definitely found her attractive and desirable. The fresh air brought color to her cheeks and a brightness to her eyes that was often missing in the presence of others, as she tended to subdue her natural exuberance and intelligence whenever her chaperone was around. Out of habit more than anything else, he suspected. Madame Liane was the least spy-like person he’d ever met, but it seemed Caeline’s habit of discretion was deeply ingrained.
Thinking of Madame Liane made him reflect how glad he was that she wasn’t with them today. The woman seemed to have grown to trust him, enough at least to allow Caeline off the leash without his needing Harry as a distraction. She was a nice lady really, just a little too diligent about her charge, a diligence Christian suspected had been impressed on her no uncertain terms by a certain blue-eyed king bent on protecting his sister’s virtue from the depredations of the loose morality of Calerans in general and him in particular.
“He seems so young to be a grandfather.” Caeline smiled at him.
Christian took her hand to help guide her across a patch of rather slippery pebbles on the lake shore and kept hold of it once they were clear, heading them up, away from the water’s edge and onto the meadow.
“He is.” he said. “Not even fifty yet which in your terms is--” he wrinkled his nose, calculating, “--round twenty-five?” She nodded. “Much as he’s looking forward to seeing the children, Gwyn and mother,” Christian told her. “it’s not the real reason he’s going.”
Caeline looked at him enquiringly and Christian, after finding a suitable spot for them to sit down, explained to her at some length about Will and his and Marton’s suspicions. He didn’t think Marton would mind her being told and besides, in order to build trust between them, he had to show trust, this being a perfect opportunity to do so.
“Your father is an amazing man.” she said with a smile. “And a caring one, too. Will sounds very nice and very lucky.” she added.
“I agree.” he grinned. “On all counts. And you’ll like Will. He’s sweet and he’s funny, damned dangerous when he gets an idea in his head but otherwise . . .” He went on to recite some of Will’s most celebrated stunts and by the time he was done, Caeline had tears in her eyes and was holding her sides against the ache.
“Oh dear.” She wiped at her eyes. “I do hope to meet him then.”
“You will.” he said confidently and was then surprised by the cheeky grin and smart retort.
“I will? So I have passed muster so far?” She flicked her ponytail back from her shoulder.
He recovered admirably, reflecting that it was past time he stopped being surprised by Caeline’s abrupt switches. “You will and you have.” he told her sincerely. “How ‘bout me?”
Caeline’s eyebrows shot up. “My opinion counts?”
“Of course it does. To me.” he qualified.
“Then I shall give it.” she said with a smile. “I find you most agreeable and I have no trouble imagining being married to you.” She sat back a little, resting on her arms and tilted her face up into the sunshine for a moment before giving him what Christian could only describe as a calculating look. “Mind you,” she said suddenly. “in order to get what I want, I was fully prepared to make do with whatever the Fates sent me so long as it was Caleran.”
Christian looked at her, stunned. “And what is it that you want?” he asked carefully.
“Freedom.” Caeline looked almost defiant as she spoke. “A chance to escape Erador. Eradorian customs, Eradorian ways. To learn, to help to bring the new world back home to my people, to the women of Erador, and to teach them these new things, show them better ways.”
Christian grinned. “Good for you.” he said softly, gratified beyond belief with her forthright announcement.
“You’re not angry?” Caeline tilted her head to one side and studied him. “I just as good as told you that I’d marry a toad to get what I want.”
“Riddup.” Christian croaked. “Kiss me and I might turn into a prince.”
Caeline laughed aloud and then, some imp of mischief obviously driving her, she leaned across and planted a kiss on his lips.
Looking down at himself, Christian went with the lighthearted mood. “Did it work?” he asked, giving her a plaintive look.
Caeline eyed him critically. “Nope.” she told him, eyes dancing. “I can still see warts.”
Christian shifted closer and cupped her chin. “Have to try it again then, shan’t we?” And kissed her.
The mood changed, softened as Caeline drifted into his arms and into the kiss. He pulled her close and threaded a hand into her hair, keeping the kiss light and chaste, not daring to try for anything deeper just yet. But it felt good and it felt right and when it ended neither one was in any hurry to move away.
“How ‘bout now?” he whispered.
Caeline opened her eyes and looked into his, smiling. “Definitely a prince.” she said.
