Loyally luke, p.31
Loyally, Luke, page 31
Even saying it made him feel a little queasy. And ridiculous. And like he’d stepped into one of Penelope’s daydreams. A shiver ran through his body.
“That’s right.” Nessa took him by the shoulders and guided him to the next room. “And we’re going to get you there.” She laughed. “Like regular fairy godparents.”
The Penelope daydream reference died a death in his brain.
“Fairy godparents?” Gordon groaned. “Do I look like a fairy to you?”
“At the moment, you look more like an ogre,” Nessa shot back, brow raised.
He huffed.
Nessa turned back to Luke and nudged him into the room before whispering, “Skymarian godparents then. Every story needs one or two, you know?” She laughed again. “So get yourself ready, my boy, so we can take you to your princess.”
Another unrecognizable Gaelic word sounded from Gordon as the door closed, followed by some giggling and another thud or two.
Luke stared at the closed door. Why did he feel like he’d stepped back in time to one of Izzy or Penelope’s sleepovers? An ache pulsed over his left eyebrow.
What was happening? He looked down at the garment bag in his hand and unzipped it to reveal—the knot moved from his stomach to his throat—a tux?
A sudden chill spilled ice through his body. No, he couldn’t do this. He wasn’t made for something like this. A ball? A royal ball?
He had a hard enough time not wanting to run for his life from a friendly meeting with the king in his private apartments. And if he sweated like a cow in a slaughterhouse over a structured and somewhat brief press conference, how on earth would he make it through an entire evening of dancing and small talk with rich people?
He reached for the door handle and paused. But one more night with Ellie?
He rocked back from the door and placed the tux on the nearby chair, staring down at it as if it held some answers. If her dad had invited him, then he knew he at least liked Luke enough to be seen in public with him, let alone to allow his daughter to be seen with him.
A ballroom, though? And dancing . . . in front of other people?
His hands grew sweaty just thinking about it.
Memories of spending time with her over the last month flooded through him and his chest responded with a strange contradiction of expanding and contracting, like a fight or flight between pain and sweetness. Love was hard.
Achingly hard.
High-risk hard.
But also worth-it hard. He stood a little taller. Fighting hard.
He caught his reflection in a mirror across the room and stared back at himself. His body straightened, his own eyes challenging him. His jaw stiffened.
He may not have to fight a dragon, but he could fight against his own fears enough to show up for her.
To be there for her.
Tonight.
He shrugged off his flannel shirt and stared down at the tux again, and then, like any good warrior worth his salt, he accepted the mission head-on.
When he finally emerged from the room, feeling as uncomfortable as a man could feel in a tux he hadn’t planned to wear to a ball he’d never even contemplated attending, Nessa rushed forward.
“Aw, don’t you look class.” She patted his shoulders and grinned. “A bit tight in the shoulders, isn’t it?” Her eyes gleamed. “Not that anyone who matters will mind at all.”
Heat exploded in his face, behind his eyes, inside his ear canals. He hated being on display.
“Aye.” Nessa studied him to the point he wanted to squirm. “Rather fetching if you ask me.”
He raised the bow tie to her to redirect her praise. “I can’t get this to work. It’s . . . too tight.”
“Well, let me see what I can do.” She took the item from him and began working with some piece of the cloth on the strap, and then Gordon emerged with Faye and Jamie on his heels.
“Come on now, woman, if we’re goin’ ta get anywhere before the night is done, we need to leave now.”
“Then stop your bletherin’ and let’s get in the car.” She frowned over at her husband but donned another smile for Luke.
This was crazy.
Gordon opened the door and gestured with his head for the children to climb in. Nessa grabbed her purse and followed.
Luke started to move, but Gordon stopped him. “Mind this, lad. You look as decent as any of the lot who’ll be there.” He narrowed his eyes. “And you’re worth more than most of them because you’ll do right by Ellie. I think she’ll need you before the night’s out, mate.” He tapped his head. “Mind what matters and you’ll be fine.”
Gordon waved his hand to Nessa, who was in the passenger side of the car. “Give Luke the front. He’ll have more room.”
“But what about his tie?” Jamie interjected from the back seat, a little hesitantly.
“Och,” Gordon growled, studying the situation. “Jamie, my boy, up front. Nessa and Luke in the back with Faye. Now let’s be off.”
All the cars in Skymar looked small.
And piling five people into one only proved it. Besides the fact that Luke was a tall, fairly average-sized man wearing a monkey suit, he also sat between Nessa, who attempted to strangle him with a bow tie, and Faye, who kept singing princess songs while Gordon drove like a maniac down roads too small to be two-lane.
He was, possibly, living one of his worst nightmares.
“Do you think you’ll marry Princess Ellie?” This from Faye, who’d stopped singing long enough to become curious.
“Take Reddling Way, luv. It’ll be shorter,” Nessa called from the back.
“I don’t think we can get married, Faye.” Luke tried to keep his voice low. “I’m not a royal or even from Skymar.”
“But that doesna matter, does it? Amara is from Nigeria and I’m from Skymar and we’re still friends forever.”
“Reddling Way will be too congested this time of day,” Gordon shot back. “Route 45 is faster.”
“Marrying a princess is a little different than just being friends, I think.” Luke pinched his eyes closed as the car swerved. “She has responsibilities here and I have responsibilities back at my home.”
“What are responsibilities?” Faye tilted her head and studied him.
Nessa gave the bow tie another jerk and then smiled. “You look braw, my boy.” Then she turned to the front. “Route 45 will have work traffic from Kelmer and you know how that is.”
“Responsibilities are things that are important to each of us that we need to do. That other people expect us to do.” Maybe he preferred being in the back seat, because watching Gordon drive from the front seat would probably look more like a Mario Kart race.
“You’re going to miss the exit, Gordie.” Nessa’s voice rose. “There it is.”
“Och!” Gordon growled and swung the car over two lanes to take the exit.
Faye didn’t seem fazed at all. Jamie held on to the side door with a white-knuckled grip.
“But she’s a princess. That makes it special,” came Faye’s voice through the madness.
“It does, which means she deserves someone special to help her meet those responsibilities, and I live too far away.” The statement hurt because it felt so true.
“We’ve gained at least ten minutes on our time.” Nessa looked over at him, her eyes glistening. “Oh, it’s so exciting, Luke.” She glanced around the car expectantly. “Does anyone else feel like Cinderella?”
A few of his man points died inside him.
Faye gave a rousing clapped response, but every male in the car failed to be amused.
“Cinderella, woman?” Gordon gave his head a strong shake. “Right now, I feel like we’re in a blooming Jason Bourne car chase.”
And the men gave their hearty approval.
Man points restored. Mostly.
“Can’t you and Princess Ellie just live in the middle?” Faye asked.
Gordon scoffed. “If they were merfolk.”
“There’s an ocean in the middle, Faye,” Luke clarified.
The car swerved again, and Faye nearly landed in his lap.
“We’re not far now,” Nessa announced, patting Luke on the arm. “I can’t wait for you to tell us all about it.”
“We’ll collect you at midnight,” Gordon said. “Text us when you’re ready.”
“Midnight is when Cinderella’s magic ran out too,” Faye added with a smile.
Luke wasn’t even sure if his smile still worked. Was it possible that his little sister was writing this scene of his life and cackling from her place of omniscience?
“Do you think midnight will give you plenty of time?” This from Nessa.
“You don’t have to wait for me.” Luke shook his head. “I can rent a car and get back to Crieff.”
“And allow us to miss the story?” Nessa gasped. “You kinna do that. Gordon and I will take Jamie and Faye back to Cambric and return for you later.” Nessa sent Faye a wink. “And I’ll share all of it with you tomorrow, Faye. Don’t you worry.”
The car swerved again and Luke braced himself with his knees as the tires screeched through a turn.
Maybe God was using this car ride to make him grateful to finally put his feet on steady ground again. Even if that steady ground started at the bottom of a staircase to a castle to meet a princess.
Yep. Still sounded weird.
And completely impossible.
Chapter 22
Three years ago, Ellie attended her last Wild Hyacinth Ball. Three years ago, she’d been a very different woman than the one staring back at her from the mirror in the royal attendance room, where she waited to step out onto the grand staircase as one of the attendants announced her presence.
Her parents would enter first.
Then the Crown Prince and his wife, followed by Prince Kurt and his fiancée. Then Rosalyn, the Princess Royal.
Then Ellie.
Alone. In front of hundreds to walk down the grand staircase.
She stared back at her reflection in the mirror as the rest of the family moved to the holding room to begin their entrance into the Great Hall.
Her eyes, so large and vulnerable, stared back at her, mocking her decision.
There would be no barriers. No one else to share the attention or on whom to lean.
Only her.
She closed her eyes and breathed out a silent prayer, and Luke’s words came to mind. “Embrace what God says about you.”
Blessed.
Secure.
Worthy.
Rescued. Her palm pressed over her heart as she recalled Luke pulling her from the icy water.
Restored. She smiled on the thought as she considered her own story over the past three years and the significance of this evening in her royal life. And then, an hour ago, Father sent her a video of the surprise press conference Luke held. Tears warmed beneath her closed eyelids. He’d done that for her, to fight a veritable reputation dragon in the only way he could.
Why?
She pinched her eyes tighter, smile stretching against her cheeks.
Beloved.
She raised her chin as she drew in a deep breath. Those eyes staring back at her didn’t look as vulnerable as they had a moment before. She turned toward the holding room as Rosalyn and her guest, Lord Devlin Westby, exited into the Great Hall.
Arran should have followed her, but in usual fashion, he failed to arrive with the family.
Collins, one of the royal attendants, dipped his head as she passed, his uniform displaying the national colors of dark green and pale blue. “Happy to have you back, Your Highness.”
Ellie stood a little taller and smiled. “Happy and honored to be back, Collins. Thank you.”
She stepped forward, each pronouncement drawing her closer to the top of the grand staircase until Rosalyn and her guest disappeared through the doors. A quote filtered into her mind from a childhood movie. What was it? She almost grinned. Cinderella? “This is, perhaps, the greatest risk any of us will ever take: to be seen as we truly are.”
With a deep breath, she stepped out onto the grand staircase to a ballroom filled with the elegant and important. A hush fell over the room.
“Princess Elliana St. Clare, Duchess of Mara and the North Country.”
She sent a look over the room, pausing for only a second longer, and then . . . into the fray she went. Each step gave way to more courage and confidence. Each movement forward, she reminded herself of who she was. Truly. Flaws and all.
Beloved and all.
Without one misstep, she reached the bottom of the staircase and joined her family, breathing a sigh of relief.
The hardest part was over.
At least, she hoped.
Father welcomed everyone, thanked all who helped make the evening possible, and then waved his hand for the music to begin. The sound of strings filled the space with a sense of magic. Lights glowed down on the golden floor. Pale blue banners brought a celebratory air, and slowly, led by her parents, couples filled the dance floor.
She closed her mind off to the fact that she stood alone. Other people chose not to join in and they framed the dance floor, speaking to each other and apparently enjoying the luxury and elegance of Carlstern Castle’s finest.
“You look stellar, of course.”
Ellie turned to find Maeve walking forward, her deep green gown a perfect complement to her dark hair and unique green eyes. A definite ten walked beside her. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Skin the color of dark bronze. Where did she find him? On a beach in Italy?
“As do you.”
“And this is Marco.” Maeve braided her arm through his. “We met while watching a performance of The Barber of Seville last week.” Maeve leaned forward, her brows giving a little shake. “He doesn’t speak a lot of English, but we’ve managed to communicate in other ways.”
Ellie caught her laugh with her hand. “He certainly increases the visual value of the room.”
“Doesn’t he?” She sighed and looked up at him. Even the lost and somewhat overwhelmed look on the man’s face failed to mar his near perfection. Maeve smiled. “I am so proud of you. Walking down those steps on your own with the confidence of a queen. You stole the air in the room.”
“I know my ability to breathe was certainly coming in short supply.”
“You were amazing. You are amazing.” Maeve’s expression turned uncharacteristically somber. “And you’re a wonderful princess on your own too. You’ve proven that already.”
“I know I’ll be fine on my own, but I don’t want it to remain so.” Ellie pinched her hands together in front of her, wishing so hard her knight-in-fuzzy-flannel would toss all care aside and sweep her off her feet. “And right now the idea of being on my own for the next several hours isn’t appealing at all, especially with a dance floor.”
Maeve opened her mouth to respond when her attention fixed on something just over Ellie’s shoulder. A slow smile curved her lips. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.”
Ellie stared at Maeve for a second and then turned.
A wave of warmth rushed through her, yet her body froze to the spot.
Standing at the top of the stairs, looking every bit the part of a gentleman, stood Luke Edgewood. Gone was the flannel, and she couldn’t really say she was sorry, because Luke Edgewood in a tux left her dazzled. He’d shaved his beard close, giving off more of a five-o’clock shadow look, and the cut of the suit highlighted those exemplary shoulders of his.
“Whew,” Maeve muttered. “There ain’t nothing wrong with that view.”
Ellie gave her head a little shake in response, her attention fixed on Luke like he’d stepped right out of her daydream into reality. Because, in a manner of speaking, he had.
He tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and scanned the room, the slight movement and deep breath he took the only hints of his discomfort.
A gasp of air burst from her in disbelief and she stepped forward, drawn to him.
The motion caught his attention and his gaze flitted to hers, then held. His focus moved from the crown on her head all the way down her gown and back up, a wonderfully crooked tip to his lips spreading in time with the appreciation in those eyes. Without another moment’s hesitation, he descended, his focus never wavering.
She felt like the only person in the room, and in this case, she didn’t mind at all. Being the center of his attention placed her in one of the best seats in the house.
The closer he came, the more his body relaxed and his smile grew . . . and the more she started to believe it was actually happening.
“I think Marco and I will leave the two of you to”—Maeve waved a hand—“stare?”
Ellie spared Maeve a look as her friend moved to the dance floor, and then Luke was standing in front of her, real and smiling and wonderfully dashing.
Oh, he looked even more attractive up close.
“Hi.” The word trembled out on a whisper.
He dipped his head, never breaking eye contact. “Hey.” His simple response, uttered low and slow, sent a delightful tingle up her neck. Paired with his hooded look, she nearly melted to the floor in a heap of blue satin and happiness.
“You’re here.”
He nodded. “I can’t say I fought a horde of monsters to get here, but I did see my life flash before my eyes a few times.”
Her laugh burst out. No, she wasn’t dreaming, because his response proved classic Luke. “Sounds like there’s a story attached to that statement.”
He shook his head slowly, his smile growing wider. “Let’s just say I’m certainly going to need another reward after the car ride I just survived to be here.”
Oh . . . heavens. She drew on all of her practice as a royal to keep her expression steady. “So . . . is this a real date?”
“I don’t wear a tux for fake ones.”
She pulled in a shaky breath. “I must say, Mr. Edgewood, I think we should invest in a great many real dates in the future if I can see you wear a tux on occasion.”
He stepped closer, the heat from his eyes sending warmth to her cheeks. “It’s not so bad to wear it if you keep looking at me like you are.”
“Believe me, it is no hardship on my part at all.”
