So, after breaking their fast, Prince Brad and the frog proceeded to a receiving room crowded with every sort of royal female imaginable.
Brad took one swift look, turned to the courtier, and had half the ladies dismissed.
“Why?” inquired the frog.
“Too plain,” Brad drawled.
The frog looked at him thoughtfully. “You really are very shallow.”…
—From The Frog Princess
That afternoon Adam sat by his grandmother’s bed and had a terrible suspicion. They were drinking tea together. Grand-mère sat up in bed wearing a lace-trimmed wrap, her cheeks pink as she delicately ate a bite of mince pie.
Grand-mère loved mince pie.
He narrowed his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
She set aside her plate, slumping a little, and turned sad eyes on him. “A little better, I confess.”
“Well enough to leave?”
“Oh.” She plucked at the coverlet and said in a quavering old woman’s voice, “If you think that wise. Although Christmas is the day after tomorrow and it does seem foolish to go now.”
He sighed. “Grand-mère.”
She raised her brows innocently.
“Miss St. John has made it plain that she does not enjoy my company.”
She straightened abruptly. “Whatever did you do to the gel?”
He spread his hands wide. “Nothing.”
“Well, perhaps that is the problem.” She glared at him. “A woman likes to know she is desired.”
“I fear we are past that.” Adam felt weary all of a sudden. “Miss St. John will not talk to me.”
“You may think talk is your most formidable weapon, dear grandson, but I very much doubt it is,” she stated. “Seduce the gel. It’s not as if you lack experience.” She picked up her plate of pie again. “What is it for if you don’t use it when needed?”
She eyed him wrathfully over a bite of the mince pie.
“Are you suggesting that I corrupt respectable ladies now?”
“Not ladies, merely Miss St. John. Adam…” She placed her empty plate carefully on the table next to the bed before taking his hands in her own. Her fingers felt fragile beneath his, her skin thin and so delicate. “I loved your mother, silly, foolish girl though she was, but you are the sunshine in my days. I am in my ninth decade. When I lie on my deathbed—” He shook his head, denying the mere thought, but she glared at him and squeezed his hands. “When I lie on my deathbed, I want to know that you will not be alone after I am gone.”
He closed his eyes. “Grand-mère, you needn’t worry about me. I’m hardly alone.”
“Are you not?” He opened his eyes to see her glaring fiercely at him. “I am your grandmother. I have the right to worry about you—do not try to deny me this. You are alone, my grandson. You may have so-called friends you drink with, ladies you dally with, acquaintances you greet when you see them on the street, but you have no one save myself that you are truly close to. Find someone. Please. For me.”
Adam brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I will try.”
But he rather thought that he was doomed to fail with Sarah.
That night Sarah sat in the sitting room after dinner sipping tea and trying very, very hard not to look at Adam.
It was nearly impossible.
She’d told him herself that she couldn’t be with him, and yet…
And yet.
Well, that was the problem, wasn’t it? She simply couldn’t stop thinking about him. Megs said she should try again with him, but to herself Sarah could confess that she was frightened.
She didn’t want to be hurt again.
The question was, which was more powerful—her attraction to Adam or her fear? She found herself lighter when in Adam’s company. His humor and his quick wit drew her, but it was the somber intellect he buried underneath his banter that snared her.
She rather thought she could spend a lifetime discovering all his many aspects and never grow weary.
In the center of the sitting room several voices rose, among them Jane’s.
“A game! A game! Let us play a game.”
Sir Hilary called from his seat in a winged chair, “Shall we play charades?”
Jane pouted. “I’m tired of charades and hide the slipper and blindman’s buff. I want something new.”
“Hide-and-seek,” Charlotte exclaimed.
“That’s a child’s game.” Jane turned to scowl at Charlotte.
Charlotte looked as if she’d very much like to stick out her tongue and was prevented from doing so only by propriety.
“I haven’t played hide-and-seek since I was a boy,” Sir Hilary mused.
“It might be entertaining,” Megs said. “Though how I shall hide I don’t know.” She looked ruefully down at her tummy.
“Oh, very well, hide-and-seek it is,” Jane declared. “Who shall be the first seeker?”
This called for several minutes’ bickering and the final decision to draw straws.
Lord Kirby ended up with the honors.
“Now then,” Jane said, for she seemed to have taken charge of the evening’s entertainment. “These are the rules: You may hide anywhere within the house. Outside is not allowed, as someone might freeze to death. Once the seeker finds a person they become the seeker’s helper and will also look for those in hiding. The last person to be found wins.” She looked at Lord Kirby. “You must count to one hundred slowly before you start.”
His Lordship bowed solemnly. “Yes, ma’am.”
And with that everyone scattered to hide.
Had either Charlotte or Jane been the seeker, finding a hiding place would’ve been much harder. All three of them had spent their childhood in this house and knew well every secret place to hide.
But since it was Lord Kirby, Sarah made a beeline for one of the easier hiding places: the room under the main stairs. One had to look very closely to find the seam of the door to the tiny room. It had been fitted with the same paneling as the wall and thus made the door near invisible. As long as Jane and Charlotte were equally clever with their hiding places, she was safe for quite some time.
Sarah found the little room looking much the same as it had when she was a girl: dusty, with various odds and ends stacked against the walls. Fortunately one of the odds and ends was a small chair. She sat in it, holding her breath for a moment to keep from sneezing from all the dust.
Then she waited.
She was almost nodding off when the door to the room creaked open.
A candle was held high, glaring in its brightness after she’d been sitting in the dark for so long.
The door closed with a click.
Sarah breathed in slowly. “You’re supposed to bring me to Lord Kirby. That’s how the game is played.”
“Is it?” His voice was a low dangerous purr.
She opened her eyes to see Lord d’Arque advancing on her.