Teddy clearly knew her better than she’d realized.

“So,” he said, turning to her with a half smile. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth?” After the truths they’d already shared tonight, it sounded easy to go ahead and share one more. Certainly easier than whatever wild dare Teddy and his brothers might come up with.

“What would you be, if you weren’t the queen?”

If she weren’t queen. Beatrice’s brain could hardly wrap itself around the notion. The only time she’d allowed herself the luxury of imagining it, she had wanted a future with Connor. That felt like very long ago, now. And besides, Beatrice realized, that dream was built around someone else.

It was time she dreamed something for herself. What would she, Beatrice, do if she had the freedom to choose? If she stopped listening to people like Robert Standish and actually did what she wanted, for once?

“I’d go on a backpacking trip, all over the world.”

Lewis leaned his elbows onto his knees with a puzzled frown. “But haven’t you been all over the world?”

“Sure, inside ballrooms and stuffy conference rooms! I’ve never traveled like a normal person.” Beatrice’s words were faster now, more urgent. “I want to learn to skydive. And scuba dive. And make a dry-ice bomb!”

The boys laughed at her declaration. “Let me get this straight,” Teddy summarized. “You want to throw yourself out of a moving plane, and learn how to make holes in your wall.”

Beatrice nodded vigorously. “Yes, exactly! That all sounds fun.”

“You’re so much cooler than the magazines make you sound,” Livingston remarked, then immediately winced. But Beatrice knew what he’d meant.

Teddy nodded at his brother’s words. “I know. Isn’t she?”

* * *

“You okay?” Teddy started down the stairs next to Beatrice. It was late; Lewis and Livingston had gone back to the main house a few hours ago, leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m fantastic,” Beatrice declared—but at the bottom of the staircase, she halted. A low, whimpering sound came from across the barn, tugging at her heartstrings. Beatrice set out in search of it.

“Bee?” Teddy asked, trotting to keep up.

At the end of a hallway, a yellow Labrador lay surrounded by a squirming, playful pile of puppies. They tumbled over one another in blithe confusion.

Beatrice sank to her knees on the dusty ground, and one of the puppies started toward her. She sighed contentedly as it crawled onto her lap.

“You didn’t tell me that your family has dogs.” Her new friend set its paws on her shoulders and began licking her face, little exploratory kisses as if to figure out who she was. Beatrice couldn’t help it; she laughed. The kind of easy laugh that floats through your body like magic.

Her chest almost hurt from it, as if she’d been compressing that laugh inside her since before her father died.

Teddy knelt down next to her. “I didn’t realize that we still did. I mean, I knew Sadie had her puppies a couple months ago, but I thought we’d have given them away by now.”

“Is Sadie your dog?”

“She’s everyone’s dog. She pretty much has the run of this place.”

“I’m in love.” Beatrice turned a pleading face to Teddy. “Can we keep him?”

She’d said we, not I. But she meant it. Beatrice wanted to take care of this puppy with Teddy, together.

“Beatrice…”

“We can’t leave Franklin here!”

Teddy sighed, but she saw that he was smiling, and felt something catch within her at the sight of that smile. “You’ve already named him,” he observed.

“A patriotic American name. And a smart name.” She tightened her arms around Franklin. “Please?”

“All right.” Teddy held out a hand to help her to her feet.

Beatrice had expected him to put up more of a fight. “Really?”

“It’s not easy for me to tell you no.”

Ignoring his hand, Beatrice rose to her feet, still holding Franklin tight to her chest. “Because I’m the queen.”

“No. Because when you look at me like that, I can’t say no to you. I don’t want to.”

“Oh” was all she managed.

As they walked back toward the house, Teddy looped an arm around her waist to keep her from stumbling. The vodka was really hitting her, wasn’t it? She remembered something the Russian ambassador had once told her—that being drunk on vodka was the only true drunk. That while beer and wine muffled and muted your emotions, vodka revealed them.

Perhaps his words were true. As she and Teddy walked back across the moon-drenched grass, their shadows stretching before them, Beatrice no longer felt confused.

“Shhh,” Teddy whispered as they slipped through the back door.

“You shhh!” she shot back. “You’re the one making all the noise!”

He took Franklin from her arms. “Beatrice, you’ve had a lot to drink.”

“Don’t worry,” she said emphatically. “I assure you, I always behave in a matter befitting the Crown.”

Teddy snorted back a laugh and led her up the stairs. Beatrice found herself so unexpectedly grateful for him. She’d never done this before, never trusted anyone enough to just…keep drinking. She’d always been so terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing.

When they reached her room, Teddy grabbed a box from the closet and set Franklin down in it. “We’ll get a real crate in the morning.”

Beatrice kept trying to undo the buttons of her sweater, but her fingers no longer seemed to work properly. “Can you help with this?”

“Yeah,” Teddy said hoarsely. “Sure.”

She stood there quietly, swaying a little on her feet. Teddy’s hands fumbled for a moment, almost as if he was nervous, but then he unbuttoned the sweater, from her throat all the way down to the hem, and helped slide it off her shoulders. Underneath she was wearing nothing but a whisper-thin tank top.

“Let’s get you into bed.” Teddy pulled back the covers for her. Beatrice obediently sat down—but before he could walk away, she closed a hand over his arm.

“Don’t go. I can’t sleep.”

“After all that vodka, I bet you will,” he said lightly.

“Please. Ever since my dad died, I’ve had these nightmares.” Her throat felt raw; she swallowed. “Please just stay, for a little while.”

He nodded and walked around to sit on the opposite side of the bed, like some kind of sentinel.

“You can lie down, you know.”

He hesitated. “Just until you fall asleep,” he compromised, and stretched out on his back.

Moonlight edged around the brocaded drapes over the window. Beatrice could barely see the planes of Teddy’s face. There had always been so much distance between them, so much ceremony and formality. She had grown used to looking at him without actually seeing him.

But now, Beatrice let her eyes travel unabashedly over him.

The only word for Teddy’s body was…well, beautiful. His bones were long and gracefully drawn, his muscles flowing over them in taut smooth lines. He was still wearing his long-sleeved shirt, though its hem rode up a little at his stomach, revealing the carved outline of his abs.

Beatrice propped herself on one elbow, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the beat of his pulse, as rapid as her own.

Sensing her gaze, Teddy turned on the mattress to face her. In the dim light his eyes seemed to have turned a deeper shade of blue, almost cobalt. She heard his breath catch, and the sound made Beatrice feel curiously brave.

She shifted forward and pressed her lips to his.

Perhaps out of surprise, his mouth opened beneath hers, letting her tongue brush up against his.

She and Teddy had kissed plenty of times: PG-rated, chaste, performative kisses at engagement parties and official events. Kisses that were meant for America, not for the two of them.

This was something else entirely.

Suddenly, somehow, Beatrice was next to Teddy, curled up against the warm length of him. Her arms snaked around his shoulders to pull him closer. She could feel the rapid pounding of his heart.

She tugged impatiently at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Teddy tore himself away. A small groan of disappointment slipped from Beatrice’s lips.

“We can’t do this,” Teddy said hoarsely.

Beatrice sat up, letting her hair fall in a tumble around her shoulders. Unsatisfied desire clawed at her insides. She braced her hands on the mattress, tangling them in the sheets to ground herself. She felt dizzy and aching and hot and cold all at once.

“We’re going to be married, you know,” she reminded him, with irrefutable logic.

“We can’t do this tonight,” he amended.

“But I want you,” she added, drunk enough to speak baldly.

“Bee—you’re too drunk to make this kind of decision. No matter how much we both might want it,” he added, in a softer tone.

Some part of Beatrice wondered if she should feel embarrassed for throwing herself at Teddy. Yet she didn’t. Perhaps because Teddy made everything feel so steady, so clear.