Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Page 16

  The queen wrinkled her nose. “He’s a rather fussy sort, don’t you think?”

  “Is he?” Edeena looked around the room, trying to locate Pietre. She found him at the refreshment table, scowling over the offerings. His plate was empty and as she watched, he moved past three of the dishes, his hand hovering over each before retracting. “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh,” the queen said. “Imagine what he would be like faced with a choice of true magnitude.”

  “Fair enough,” Edeena said. Her heart was dangerously close to heading south again, and she struggled to hold onto her happy place. She’d done seriously thorough vetting of the top candidates in the room, but she was quickly coming to realize that nothing could replace the value of a personal recommendation. “Do you have anyone you think you might be a good match?”

  “Oh, of course, darling,” the queen smiled, giving her arm a small squeeze. “But I want to give you at least the illusion of not being railroaded by a meddling monarch first. If you choose well, I promise to keep my mouth firmly shut.”

  The queen turned her dancing eyes back to the milling crowd, her smile broadening as the musicians began to tune their instruments. Then her expression shifted slightly, and Edeena tried not to freeze.

  “He’s here, isn’t he.”

  “He is. Keep your smile steady, dear, he’s currently scanning the room for us, so let’s give due attention to young Rico Carras here. He was caught streaking through the Royal Beach by the GNSF guards out on maneuvers only yesterday, so I cannot recommend him to you. But your father is friends with the boy’s father, so he’ll be mollified if you appear to be paying attention to him.”

  Edeena nodded, taking on her most appeasing smile as she tilted her head and watched Rico laugh with his friends. At least he had a good smile, quick and easy, his laughter drawing the attention of others in a positive way.

  “Excellent, exactly perfect,” the queen said. “Now buck up, Silas is heading our way.”

  “Radiant with joy, subservient daughter, or something in between?” Edeena asked under her breath.

  Queen Catherine gave a most un-royal snort. “Screw subservience. Radiance will surprise him more.”

  With that the queen looked up, her smile wide as if she only now had noticed her cousin. “Silas, oh, thank heavens you’re here. How is your sweet Maria faring?”

  “Well,” Silas said, turning his gaze immediately to Edeena. “Edeena,” he said, clipping off the word as if it was a condemnation. “Good of you to finally accept your responsibilities.”

  Edeena’s own broad smile didn’t dim as she stepped toward her father and enveloped him in a hug. He was an ass, but there was something about him tonight that seemed to tug at her heartstrings, no matter all the terrible things he’d done in the name of the family—things that would make this polite group of royals and nobles faint if they knew. But seeing him now, he looked . . . well, tired, more than anything else.

  He stood back, scowling at her as the queen departed with gracious discretion, and Edeena tried to find the words to mend the fences she’d been diligently trying to destroy between them.

  Then he had to go and open his mouth and ruin everything.

  “I assume you’ve made your choice already,” he said gruffly, looking around the room. “This is merely a formality. For God’s sake, do not pick Millya. He’s no better than a pig farmer, I don’t care if their production turned to wine this past generation.”

  Edeena blinked. “Well, I—”

  “And Rico, I saw you eyeing him. He’s not acceptable. I won’t allow it.”

  Her eyes widened. “But you and his father are friends.”

  “His father owes me money. You better believe I’ll stay his friend until he pays that loan off,” Silas sneered. “The quicker you understand how people work, Edeena, the sooner you’ll realize that it doesn’t pay to become sentimental.”

  Edeena stiffened. “No one would ever accuse me of being sentimental, Father. Least of all you.”

  “Sentimental, no. But neither have you paid any attention to tradition. And tradition matters, it has always mattered. The Saleri curse must fall, and it will fall, in this generation. I will be the one to make sure that happens.”

  “You?” Edeena snapped, irritation flaring despite her best efforts. “You’ve done nothing but twist everything to your own plans since the moment that Mother died. And for what? Because we’re all girls? We’re a special generation? Mother didn’t care about that—she was simply happy we existed.” Edeena threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m going to break this curse, Father, I know the ancient rules and I am going to bow down before them and do everything I can to satisfy whatever gods still care about what happens to the Saleris. But the moment I do, your power over me, over Marguerite and Caroline is at an end. We’ll all be free to build new lives, and they’ll be able to find real love and real joy and you and your obsessions, your traditions and your curses will be done. Mark my words, Father, they will be done.”

  Silas’s face darkened for a moment, whether in anger or genuine shock at her lengthy outburst, Edeena didn’t know—and didn’t care. It was more than she’d ever said to her father, but it felt right…it felt true.

  The music was starting up in a traditional reel, and she had a job to do.

  She whirled away from Silas and headed for the middle of the room.

  Vince shrugged off the wall he’d been holding up as the music kicked into some sort of upbeat country reel, not quite a waltz but something far shy of a country swing line dance. Still, it seemed to galvanize the room as if this was what everyone had been waiting for. The men in particular perked up, looking genuinely interested, and Vince hid his grimace. What the hell was wrong with these people?

  “You look as if you don’t approve, Prince Rallis.”

  Whoops. Apparently he hadn’t done a very good job masking his expression after all. He looked sideways at Queen Catherine, and managed an abashed smile.

  “I confess, it’s not the way we do things at home, not that we have any particular claim to knowing what we’re doing when it comes to relationships back in America.”

  “And your own parents? They’re still living, I hope?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded as he watched Edeena twirl around the center of the growing circle of men, all of them engaged in some dance they looked like they’d learned about twenty minutes before entering the room. “Mom and Dad both alive, both still happily married. But they’re Greek.” He shrugged. “It’s a point of pride with them to stay married, give a good example for the younger generation.”

  “Indeed.”

  Vince saw his mistake, tried to rectify it before the queen continued talking.

  “I know, I know, what Edeena is doing here is also intended to keep up with that idea of good example, but . . .” he winced again as the music changed tempo, and the men broke apart, clapping and stamping their feet as Edeena was squired by the first of their number. The man was an absolute beanpole, tall and cadaverously thin, but he had a wide grin and an affable nature that had Vince liking him despite his awkward appearance. He turned Edeena around the circle a few times, like she was some kind of show pony, then dutifully handed her off to bachelor number two.

  Good lord, there had to be at least thirty men in that circle, Vince realized. This was how Edeena was supposed to get to know someone?

  As if she was reading his thoughts, the queen spoke again. “And how long did your parents know each other before they realized that they were the right match. Did they ever tell you that story?”

  At this point, Vince wasn’t particularly listening to the queen. He was too busy watching Edeena. She was laughing, carefree almost, the perfect vision of a debutante being squired around by her partners. The older attending members of this bizarre event were watching and laughing as well, and even the apparently single women in the audience had a strange look. One not quite of envy, but not derision either. Maybe there was something to be
said for having a crazy, messed up dance set up for you, where the entire community gave a shit about who you danced with and why.

  Almost by muscle memory, he realized the queen had asked him a question. He answered it just as automatically.

  “My parents met when they were teenagers, to hear them tell the story. Younger than that, maybe. They were in school, and one day they ran into each other in the hallway—like, literally ran into each other, my father haring off in one direction and my mother barreling along in the other. They crashed and books, pens, papers went flying.” He grinned, shaking his head as Edeena bowed graciously to a kid who looked younger than Vince’s own brothers, but who proudly stepped up to take her hand. “As the story goes, by the time they had everything picked up, they were already planning how many children they’d have together.”

  There was no response and Vince tore his gaze away from Edeena to look down at the queen. She was beaming at him with sublime satisfaction, and he scrambled back in his mind over what he’d said, trying to determine what it was that had generated such a strong reaction. Before he could puzzle it out, the queen gestured to the circle. “You must join them, Prince Rallis,” she said, and he blinked at her.

  “I’m not a prince, nor am I a local. I think she’s got her hands full.”

  “But you aren’t committed to another woman? No? Then it’s bad form for you not to participate. Remember, we are working here to counteract an old family curse. If any of these old nabobs can find reason to declare we didn’t follow the customs exactly, they could use that as a justification for Edeena not doing her job in helping to heal the family. You don’t want that, do you?”

  It was all Vince could do not to throw his hands up in disgust. “You’re seriously not joking here,” he said, staring at the queen. “I don’t even know that goofy dance step they’re doing, and though this probably won’t come as a surprise to you, I’m not exactly the type who dances.”

  “I think you’ll do just fine,” the queen said. “And I’m afraid it is a royal command, dear. So the sooner you acquiesce, the sooner we can stop this infernal noise.”

  She gave him a push toward the center of the room, and the men in the circle opened up obligingly, grinning at him as the music picked up tempo yet again. There was a great deal of laughter now, and Vince stared hard at the steps the men were making. He realized that the most complicated part of the dance was staying far enough away from Edeena’s twirling skirts that you didn’t slow her down. He could do that, he supposed.

  As Edeena passed him on the arm of another guy she looked up, her eyes widening in surprise—and, maybe something else? She seemed happy enough that he was there, anyway, and maybe that was the real purpose of the queen pushing him into the circle. Exactly as the dressmaker had said, he helped Edeena relax, to smile, and today above all days, she needed to convey her absolute delight with the insanity that her family was putting her through. He supposed he could go along with that. It was only a country dance, no matter how strange the steps to it were. It meant nothing at all.

  Finally, Edeena swirled nearer, and he realized he was the last man in line, although none of the men actually left the circle. If anything, as each finished their turn their shouting and stamping grew more robust.

  Then suddenly, Edeena was in front of him, reaching out her hands, and it was the most natural thing in the world to step into the circle of insanity and start twisting her forward and back, keeping time with her turns as he managed to stay out of reach of her skirts.

  “Queen Catherine put you up to this, didn’t she!” Edeena laughed and he found himself laughing back.

  “I asked if I could join in.”

  Her eyes lit up. “You did not!” she proclaimed, her outburst loud enough to draw a raucous cheer from the men. Vince noticed a few craning heads, but everyone was smiling, and that was the game.

  “I should have,” he said. “And you should laugh like this more often, Edeena, you’ll make every man in the room fall for you.”

  “Ha!” Her face blanked for a moment though, and she blinked rapidly, sure signs of a woman about to cry. What the hell had he said?

  “You ruin that makeup job, and Hatchet Face is going to eat you for lunch,” he warned, and just that quickly the moment passed for Edeena. She whirled away from him then back, her hand tight in his as if she would never let him go.

  “I didn’t know you could dance!” she gasped as they neared the end of the circuit.

  Vince snorted. “This isn’t dancing, This is like running alongside a kid riding his bike for the first time.”

  That merited him another unsophisticatedly hearty laugh from Edeena, and then they were suddenly at the end of their circuit. Vince realized he didn’t know exactly how they parted ways. When Edeena came close, their hands together, and toward him as if for a kiss, he felt as if the whole world was watching.

  And he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.

  He met her kiss with a pressure that had been building up inside him since the last time he’d held her in his arms, six thousand miles and a million layers of sense back in Charleston. For a bare moment, time stopped, and he allowed himself to savor every detail of the beautiful woman in his arms. Her soft mouth, her racing heart, the clutch of her hands in his, the taste of salt and champagne on her lips, the smell of honeysuckle in her hair . . .

  Then the moment broke, the music crashed on, and Edeena was stepping back from him. She was radiant, perfect and true . . .

  And she was destined for somebody else.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Edeena leaned close to the window, trying to see beyond the next curve in the road. “You’re sure this is the right direction?” she asked in Garronois.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the driver said, the soul of patience. “We should be there presently.

  She sat back with a frown, her mood no better though Vince was right beside her, the way he’d been at her side everywhere since they’d arrived in Garronia. But today, there was something different about him, something solemn and formal, and it added to the misery she sensed was stacking up on all sides.

  They drove through a small knot of farm houses, and it was Vince’s turn to sit forward. “What’s that about?” he asked frowning as a group of men and boys gathered in front of a charming house which set back from the road. It had a tree leaning precariously over its roof.

  “Bad storm came through about a week ago, damaged a lot of trees,” the driver said, speaking in flawless English. “They’re probably—”

  “Stop! Stop the car,” Vince barked.

  Before the limo had barely slowed Vince pushed open the door and pounded out of the vehicle, shouting and waving his hands. Of course, he was shouting in English, and the townspeople would have no idea what he was saying. They’d probably think he was a crazy person.

  “Vince!” she shouted, but he was already halfway to the crowd before she slammed the door and dashed across the road, grateful for her sensible walking shoes despite the filmy blouse and long skirt she wore. They were already late for her first luncheon, and now this!

  “Vince, what’re you doing?”

  The men were gathered around him looking at him dubiously, and the kids were openly slack jawed. Still, they seemed to view him more as an amusement than a threat, and Edeena’s tension eased a bit.

  Vince turned toward her. “They don’t speak English?” he asked, clearly surprised. “I thought all of you spoke English.”

  “We all learn it, but not everyone has a need to speak it every day.”

  “Well, they need to stop what they’re doing. Stop right now, and back that truck the hell away from that tree,” Vince snapped. “If they keep at it the way they are, the whole damned thing is going to fall straight through that roof.”

  “What?” Edeena looked from him to the tree. She could see now that the farmers had cut several gashes into the trunk and were looking to lever it away from the house. To her untutored eye, the gashes made sens
e. The tree should fall well to the right of the building, clearing it completely. “What’s wrong with—”

  “And these kids! Christ almighty, why are all these kids so close? They should have a perimeter set up and everyone well back. How bad was the storm?”

  He asked the question of Edeena, but of course she hadn’t been here, she’d been in South Carolina. Still, an older man stepped forward, possessing the gravity of a family elder. Edeena felt the curious urge to curtsey, but she did around everyone who was over the age of sixty. Something her mother had taught her, she supposed.

  “I am Guillarmo Aconti,” the man said gravely in English, his voice deep and sonorous. “Who are you?”

  “Prince—I mean Vince, Vince Rallis, sorry. Old habits, they called me that when I did this work with my cousins.” He glanced sheepishly at Edeena who could no more stop the rush of his words than she could stop an oncoming wave. Vince was truly upset, his whole body shaking. “Look, I live in the United States, the coastal state of South Carolina. We get storms all the time, right? Some big, some small, but some of them seem to come in sideways instead of down. That sound familiar to what went through here? And how long ago was that?”

  “Seven days.” The old man looked first at Vince, then Edeena. “The wind came sideways. It doesn’t normally come in so far, but this time,” he shrugged, “it did. We have several trees that lost limbs, twisted.”

  “Yeah, they didn’t simply twist. They broke inside. Only you don’t know it yet.” Vince put his hands to his head. “We need two trucks, not one, and we need ropes, not axes. We need to keep the kids back.” He looked hard at the man. “You’ve got builders, too, here? Someone who built these homes? Because the roofs are going to leak if you don’t reinforce them, and then shear clean off during the next perfectly ordinary storm. We run into it all the time in South Carolina. The first storm doesn’t seem to cause much damage, but the second one knocks people off their feet.”

  Edeena stared. She’d never seen Vince so animated, but it made sense, she supposed. He lived in an area under constant threat of storm damage, and he cared—truly cared—about protecting people.