“Excuse me, but I need to step away,” she murmured. No matter how Beatrice felt, her manners never seemed to abandon her. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Oh—okay.” Marshall retreated, letting Beatrice cross the dance floor toward Theodore. In her full-skirted gown, weighted down with her sash and medals and the Winslow tiara, she felt a bit like a ship at full sail, making slow but stately progress across choppy seas.

“Theodore Eaton. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she declared. It was a bit more direct than Beatrice might usually have been, but she was feeling frayed and scattered.

“Your Royal Highness.” He held out a hand expectantly, his feet already pointed toward the dance floor. “And please, call me Teddy.”

“Actually …” Beatrice swallowed. “Would you mind if we just sat down for a minute instead?”

He nodded and followed her through the double doors into a sitting room, which was mercifully empty. Beatrice settled onto one of the couches with a sigh of relief.

“So, where were you all night? Hiding from me?” She meant it to come out teasing, but clearly she’d made yet another mistake, because Teddy reddened slightly.

All the years of etiquette training she’d received, and still she had no clue how to talk to boys.

“I figured that I should wait my turn,” Teddy said tactfully.

A shadow materialized in the doorway. Beatrice knew even before she looked up that it would be Connor.

He took in the scene with a single glance. Beatrice met his gaze, giving him the slightest of nods, and because after a year together they could communicate without words, Connor understood. His brow furrowed into a frown, but he made a stiff bow and retreated.

Beatrice braced herself for the inevitable half hour of bragging she was about to endure. Yet before she could ask Teddy to tell her about himself, he interrupted her thoughts.

“How are you holding up?”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“This must be awkward and incredibly stressful for you, meeting a bunch of guys that your parents are trying to set you up with. How are you feeling?” he asked, then shook his head. “Sorry, I’m sure everyone has been asking you that all night.”

“Actually, you’re the first person to ask.” Beatrice felt oddly touched by his concern. “The truth is, yeah. It’s kind of weird.”

“Totally weird. Like that reality speed-dating show,” Teddy agreed, which made her want to smile. She knew the show he was talking about; Samantha and Nina used to watch it.

Teddy wasn’t all that tall, certainly nowhere near as tall as Connor, but as he leaned back against the pillows, he seemed … imposing. Not in a bad way, Beatrice decided: in a solid, steady way. But something off-kilter about his appearance kept nagging at her.

“Your bow tie isn’t on right.” To her immense surprise, she found herself leaning forward. “Here, I can redo it.”

Teddy gave an apologetic smile, though she caught another flicker of self-consciousness. Oh god. Did he think she was flirting with him? But then, wasn’t that precisely what she was supposed to be doing?

“Are you always such a perfectionist?” he demanded.

“It’s part of the job description.” She focused on her hands to keep from feeling flustered: twisting the bow tie over itself, looping it, and then pulling it through.

“How did you learn to do this?” Teddy asked as she leaned back. The bow tie was perfectly symmetrical, with crisp edges. Beatrice never attempted any task that she couldn’t complete perfectly.

“My etiquette master taught me.”

He started to chuckle, then caught himself. “Oh my god,” he said. “You’re not joking. You really had an etiquette master?”

“Of course I did.” Beatrice squirmed beneath his scrutiny.

“And what did this etiquette master teach you?”

“Table manners, how to curtsy, how to get in and out of a car safely—”

“I’m sorry, why is that part of etiquette lessons?”

Beatrice tried not to feel even more embarrassed. “I have to swing both legs out at once, my knees locked together, to keep the paparazzi from …” She couldn’t bear to say getting a crotch shot, but she didn’t have to, because Teddy’s eyes widened in understanding.

“I’m really glad I don’t wear skirts,” he joked. It made Beatrice want to burst out laughing. She settled for pursing her lips against a smile.

The sounds of the ballroom emanated toward them, growing softer as the night wore on. Teddy looked over at her, thoughtful. “I saw you around Boston a few times, you know, when I was home on break.”

“Really? Where?”

“At Darwin’s. I used to go there to study,” he said sheepishly. “I always knew when you were coming, because one of your protection officers would do a sweep of the place. Ten minutes later you’d pull up on your bike, hiding your face under a baseball cap, to pick up bagels and cold brew. I thought it was cool of you,” he added softly. “That you went to get bagels yourself, when you clearly could have sent someone.”

Beatrice flushed. She was aware that the baseball cap hadn’t fooled anyone, but the nice thing about college was how much people respected her privacy. Even when they recognized her, they generally didn’t bother her. “I loved biking to Darwin’s. It was a lot of work to get me there, but I never wanted to give it up.”