HENRY

“Your Highness?”

I turn to my left, where Pierre, my security chief, has leaned over to whisper to me. “Yes?”

“There are two young ladies who’ve requested to speak with you privately.”

Curiosity filling me, I get my hopes up that it’s Abi and her assistant, beckoning me to wherever they’ve left to. “Concerning?”

He glances up at the many faces turned curiously toward us and clears his throat. “I assume it’s of a personal nature, sir. They wouldn’t tell me.” Code for ‘you’d prefer I didn’t say the true reason aloud’.

“Where?”

“I asked them to wait at the portico near the chef’s entrance.”

“Very well, thank you, Pierre.”

“Would you like me to accompany you, sir?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

I place my napkin on the table and excuse myself, winding my way through the gaily decorated tables to the exit of the large event tent. It’s a brief walk across the East Lawn to the rear of the palace, where I spot two women hovering together behind the columns of the portico covering the kitchen delivery entrance. Disappointment hitches in my chest. Neither of them is Abi.

“Ladies? You needed to speak with me?”

They smile and blush, bowing their heads in unison. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“What can I help you with this evening?”

They look at each other and then turn to me, stepping closer.

“We, um, we have a special request,” the redhead says, smiling demurely at me.

“Yes?” Don’t do what I think you’re about to.

“I’m Leela, and this is Stacy,” the redhead continues, “and we have a bit of a situation.”

I keep an oblivious façade up, hoping they’ll stop. I’m no idiot. I know that look they’re giving me. “How may I be of assistance?”

“We each had a birthday this month; we both turned twenty-one.”

I can feel the fakeness in my smile, but they don’t seem to notice. “Congratulations, a belated happy birthday to you both.”

“We’re hoping you can help us celebrate,” Stacy says.

“Oh?” Fuck me, they’re going to do it.

“The thing is, we’ve never been with a man before.” Stacy tosses her blonde hair and looks at me from under long eyelashes.

I raise both eyebrows. Not because of the propositions, that I’m used to. It’s because I highly doubt either of these girls have never been with a man before. “I see.”

They step forward together, now inches away from me, and Leela slips her arm around Stacy’s waist.

“We’d like you to be our first, Your Highness,” she says, tracing a finger down Stacy’s chest. “With both of us, together.”

“Doing whatever pleases us — all night long,” Stacy adds.

That primal part of me sets my heart beating faster, and yet, my response is without hesitation. It’s firm. “I’ll have to pass on that, unfortunately.”

“But... but,” the blond stammers. “We’re up for anything. We’ll do whatever you want.”

I take a step back and clasp my hands together. “That’s not the issue, I assure you. I’m certain there are many gentlemen — several in that tent, in fact — who’d jump at a chance to, um, celebrate with you. But it won’t be me.”

“But you’re the only one we want,” Leela says, pushing her lips into a pout. “We heard you were into this sort of thing.”

Last year me, yes — I likely would have taken them up on their offer. But I’m not that man anymore. I keep a civil expression on my face, the polite but otherwise emotionless look all the royals of Ostwyn do so well. “So sorry, ladies. Thank you for the offer, but I really must get back to the dinner party now.”

I turn heel and walk away quickly, crossing the lawn without looking back. I’m almost to the tent when Pierre steps out of the shadows.

“Is everything okay, Your Grace?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m going to return to my seat now.”

He looks in the direction of the portico. “Shall I bring the ladies to your suite later, sir?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. They’ll have to find other company.”

A brief look of confusion flashes across his ordinarily neutral expression. “Has my selection displeased you, my Lord?”

“They were perfectly lovely. But I’m not interested.”

“Oh, I see. I thought, perhaps, since you haven’t left the estate in a long while, you might want to take advantage of the, um, offerings the festival has brought.”

“I appreciate your concern for my social life, Pierre, but as I’ve said before, things are different now. In fact, I’d appreciate your running interference to keep such... advances at bay.”

Pierre’s eyebrows twitch, but he nods calmly. “Of course, sir.”

I turn to leave, but my chief of security clears his throat. I glance back. “Yes?”

“Pardon the question, Your Grace, but, uh…”

“What?”

He leans in and lowers his voice even further, barely a faint whisper above the din of the crowd inside the ten. “Does that include Lady Abigail as well?”

“Lady Abigail is the only guest I’ll be entertaining — and her visits are to be treated with extreme discretion, is that clear?”

“Absolutely,” Pierre nods solemnly. “It’s understood, Your Highness.”

I leave Pierre standing at the edge of the tent, his watchful eyes following me as usual as I make my way back to the table. I notice with dismay that Abigail’s seat is still empty.

I pray that she did not witness the conversation with the two women under the portico. Not a single woman here tonight could hold my attention the way she has these past few days, and I don’t want her thinking otherwise. I’m no fool — I know my reputation proceeds me. Surely, Abigail has heard every tawdry detail of my past, of my infamous stunts, partying, and playboy ways.

But this is… different. I don’t know what it is, or how long it will last, or why she has this hold over me that I can’t shake, but no woman, ever, has captivated me quite like this before.