Chapter Two

      For the rest of the night, Bryce found it a strain being sociable. He knew why and he didn’t like it. None of the other guests at the ball had captured his interest as totally as Princess Giselle.

      It took enormous self-discipline to keep his glance from repeatedly straying to where she held court. The silvery peal of her laughter drew his attention like a magnet, making him pulse with desires he didn’t want to feel. Not for any woman, but especially not for someone so inappropriate.

      During the move to Merrisand, Amanda had shown him an article in a magazine linking the princess with one of Carramer’s more famous exports, movie actor Robert Gaudet. He was in Hollywood at present, developing a new film project that his production company planned to make in Carramer. The article suggested that the princess’s injury was the only thing preventing her from being with him. The actor was supposedly so much in love with her that their marriage was a foregone conclusion.

      The article also mentioned the princess’s many teaching and charitable activities for the Merrisand Trust and Bryce wondered how they would fit in with a Hollywood lifestyle.

      He didn’t normally pay attention to such things but had been prepared to encourage anything that made Amanda happier about the move to Merrisand. He had read the article to please her, deciding that his daughter could have a worse idol than the hardworking princess.

      He tried to tell himself he was glad Giselle was involved with someone. Even if she hadn’t been a princess, he had nothing to offer her, either emotionally or materially. His wife’s illness had drained him of both the capacity and the will to put himself through such torment again. And until he put his financial affairs in order, he had little to offer any woman.

      The logic didn’t quench his desire to look at Giselle, and keep looking.

      He thought he’d resisted the temptation fairly successfully until he became aware that his dance partner had stopped moving. He forced his attention back to her. “Is something the matter?”

      “Perhaps we should dance over to the other side of the room before you get a crick in your neck from turning that way.”

      He had asked the woman to dance in order to banish Giselle from his mind. Giving her name as Elaine, she obviously expected Bryce to reciprocate. When he hadn’t, she had volunteered that she was the princess’s equerry and had been away in Taures with her boss until recently.

      When Bryce reminded Elaine that their identities were supposed to remain secret until midnight, she had sounded frustrated but had danced with him readily enough. “You’re new to Merrisand, aren’t you?” she commented as he swung her into a waltz.

      “Very.” He knew she expected more from him, but didn’t feel inclined to elaborate. He hadn’t danced since Yvette became too ill, and was regretting the impulse to start again now. Not because Elaine wasn’t a good dancer. She was light on her feet and followed his lead easily. And behind her striking gold mask, her features hinted at attractiveness. No, he was the problem, feeling uncomfortable holding her in his arms.

      Strange. He hadn’t felt that way when he assisted the princess earlier. She had fitted against his side as if she belonged there. Also missing was the tug of guilt he’d so often felt after catching himself enjoying some small pleasure. Yvette had been such a generous soul that she wouldn’t want him to feel guilty on her account, yet he hadn’t been able to dismiss the feeling.

      Until this evening.

      “My mind was wandering,” he told Elaine. True enough.

      “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she murmured, matching her steps to his as he picked up the rhythm again.

      “It’s nothing personal. I’m out of practice at this.” Also true.

      “She is lovely, isn’t she?” Elaine said.

      He didn’t insult her by pretending not to know who she meant. “Yes. Also very popular.” The crowd around Giselle had only lessened for the interval while supper was served.

      “You wouldn’t be the first man at the castle to fall in love with her.”

      Bryce felt his muscles tighten and made an effort to relax them. “You sound just like my daughter.”

      He could almost hear Elaine’s thoughts as she added this up. Out of practice at dancing, and with a daughter. Therefore probably widowed or divorced. “How old is your daughter?”

      As he heard the interest in her voice sharpen, he regretted even more asking her to dance. Then he reminded himself that he was the one using her to take his mind off the princess. “Ten, and an authority on celebrities, courtesy of her favorite magazine, Fame and Fortune.”

      “I read that magazine, too. They did an article recently about the princess and Robert Gaudet.”

      He nodded. “According to the writer, they’re practically engaged.”

      Now who was fishing? he thought. As Giselle’s right-hand woman, Elaine could be expected to know whether there was any truth in the article. He told himself he was merely curious.

      Elaine’s smile became artful. “You’d have to ask Her Highness about that.”

      He had to admire her discretion, although he couldn’t help wondering who else her reticence was serving. As long as Giselle was committed to the actor, Bryce was wasting his time fantasizing about her. Especially when there was a lovely, available woman much closer to hand. Or so he could imagine Elaine wanting him to think.

      Maybe she was right. He had worried for some time that Amanda was suffering for lack of a mother’s influence. He had tried to compensate by letting her spend time with her maternal grandmother, until he became aware that Babette was spoiling her hopelessly.

      He thought he understood his mother-in-law’s motives. Having lost her daughter, she was afraid of losing Amanda, too. Bryce hadn’t been able to make her see that being overly indulgent wouldn’t help.

      When Babette and Lyle Monroe learned that he was taking Amanda away from Nuee, they had acted as if he was taking their child away instead of their granddaughter. Provoked by their example, Amanda had accused him of ruining her life. She still had bouts of difficult behavior, too many for his peace of mind sometimes. He hoped that by removing her from her grandparents’ influence, he would eventually make her understand that his decision had been for her good.

      The dance ended and he thanked Elaine. On impulse, he asked, “Would you like some champagne?”

      Under her mask she looked flushed, whether with the dancing, or at his offer, he didn’t know. Had she expected him to desert her the moment the music stopped? He wasn’t proud of having considered the idea.

      “Champagne would be lovely, thank you.”

      He signaled to a passing waiter and lifted two flutes from his tray, gave one to her and toasted her with his own. “Thank you for your patience.” It