The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12. Кейт Хьюит
flushed. ‘I… thank you…’
‘For a captive bride,’ Andreas said without thinking, and he saw the flash of surprise that said she’d forgotten. For the moment.
But she suppressed it. The twinkle appeared again. ‘He gave me a dog,’ she told Tia, as if that explained everything.
‘He always was a kind boy,’ Tia said.
‘Kind, huh?’ Holly said, and gave him a look that almost had him blushing.
But Tia was into organizational mode. She wasn’t looking for nuances. ‘You know the people who need to be formally farewelled,’ she told Andreas. ‘The two of you do the rounds. Quickly though, or it’ll be said we slighted someone.’
‘We can’t split up and do ‘em faster?’ Holly asked.
‘You don’t know who…’
‘I’m figuring it out,’ Holly said. ‘I’ve been watching. My mother brought me up on social nuances. I’m thinking I could point to every person here who’s likely to take offence. But you’re right, of course, I can’t be depended on and I really need to see my dog. Okay, my husband. Let’s get this lot farewelled so we can get on with our lives.’
It felt like an order. He felt… bossed. Holly moved through the dignitaries like a professional. As he steered her from person to person she greeted them with her hands outstretched, a royal bride receiving the attention she deserved.
She could do this, he thought with a shock. He glanced aside at his mother and saw her watching Holly and thought it wasn’t just him and his pride in her. She could be royal.
There was another shock, a smack in the solar plexus that went right along with the strange feel of the ring on his finger. If he’d married her ten years ago…
Right, as if that could have happened. When his father had been alive—no way. But now… He glanced further across the crowded reception room and there was Sebastian, still watching her. Smiling.
Royal approval, or simply Sebastian’s habitual reaction to a beautiful woman?
But if Sebastian approved… What had happened in the church today had changed things. Holly had become a real person to the country—a real princess?
Could they have a real marriage?
The thought was mind-blasting. It made his arm tighten on Holly’s waist so she looked up at him enquiringly. ‘Andreas?’
‘It’s time we went,’ he managed.
‘Yes, dear,’ she said and they were such a domestic couple of words that they made him blink. Then she smiled and the heat in his body kept right on building.
They had to go. He had to take her… away.
His wife.
SHE hadn’t counted on being dumped unceremoniously in the kitchen with Deefer, but that was exactly what happened.
The crowd parted as Andreas left with his wife. At the last minute he swept her up in his arms and they left behind a crowd cheering and wishing them the best. She lay submissive in his arms—what else was a bride to do, after all? But then instead of carrying her triumphantly up the grand central staircase to the royal bridal chamber—or wherever palaces accommodated newlyweds—he shoved door after door open, carrying her down into the rear of the castle to the servants’ quarters. Finally he swung open a last door and set her on her feet.
She almost staggered. The dress was a dead weight around her—she’d been carrying half a ton all day. She’d been too dazed to notice. When Andreas in his fabulous royal regalia was carrying her she didn’t care, but set down unceremoniously in the royal kitchen she found she did care. A lot.
The kitchen had vast, ancient flagstones, a range that took up half a wall, a table that could seat twenty or so—and little else. It was deserted, apart from Deefer who peered sleepily from a dog bed by the stove, gave his tail a perfunctory wag and then finally decided it did behove him to raise himself to welcome his mistress.
She bent to greet him and Andreas was already backing out the door. What the …?
‘Um… is the Cinderella thing over?’ she asked uncertainly. ‘Is it midnight yet? My gown’s still a gown.’
‘Stay here,’ he growled. ‘I didn’t expect… I have things to organize.’
‘You didn’t expect what?’ she demanded.
‘A wife,’ he said and paused, stepped forward, hauled her close and kissed her. One harsh, demanding and possessive kiss—and then he was gone. ‘Wait,’ he said over his shoulder as he strode away down the corridor. ‘Go nowhere.’
And where was a girl to go after that? Nowhere. Even if she could find her way back to her apartments through the corridors. Which she couldn’t.
So she sat by the stove in her ridiculous bridal gear and waited for her husband and tried to make herself think of something other than how she was married and she didn’t know what was going to happen and she was… scared?
Scared of something happening?
Um… no. Scared of something not happening.
What would happen if someone came in and found her here? The servants would come eventually, she thought. There she’d be when they came in to cook breakfast, the royal bride hugging her dog, looking ridiculous.
‘We’re in over our heads,’ she told Deefer, but Deefer was one tired pup and he simply curled up into a ball on the crazy lace confection covering her knees and slept again.
Lucky Deefer.
Fifteen minutes. Twenty. The clock over the vast mantel ticked like a bomb. Tick tick tick.
She was going nuts.
The door swung open again. Andreas. Still in his ceremonial bridal toggery. Still looking absurdly handsome.
Still her husband.
‘We’re ready,’ he said and she suddenly had a ghastly vision of the royal brides she’d heard of in history—a dozen witnesses clustered around the bed waiting for evidence of her virginity.
‘Um… we?’ she whispered, and he chuckled and strode forward, lifted Deefer from her arms and pulled her lightly up to stand beside him.
‘Georgiou.’
‘Oh, goody,’ she whispered. ‘My favourite person.’
‘My favourite helicopter pilot,’ he said. ‘I’ve had too much wine to fly myself. Not that I’m drunk but there’s zero alcohol tolerance for flying. Besides, I wish to concentrate entirely on my bride. So what say Georgiou takes us away from all this? Back to our island.’
Her eyes widened in shock. ‘We can just… go?’
‘That’s just what I think we should do,’ he said. ‘We’ve done the honourable thing, my love. The rest of the night’s just for us.’
‘And Georgiou.’
‘As you say,’ he said and grinned. ‘But I’m thinking the island’s big enough for all of us.’
This was ridiculous. She should have insisted on changing clothes, Holly thought as she sat on the opposite side of the helicopter to Andreas and hugged Deefer. To travel in her wedding gown—she still had the tiara in her curls!—seemed crazy. As did the fact that Andreas was still wearing his royal regalia. He was leaning back in the luxurious leather chair that served as the helicopter seat, his eyes almost closed, as if in meditation. What was he thinking? He had a bride?
What was he going to do with her?