CHAPTER SEVEN
AT ELEVEN O'CLOCK THE next morning, Cecelia's house was in deep uproar. The maids, the footmen, Sanford, Mrs. Parnel, Mrs. Hammerstein-Smythe, and William were all in great agitation. For two full minutes, no one knew quite what to do. It was not until the lady of the house took control and demanded that one of the maids wake her daughter immediately and see that she was dressed properly that the house began to move again. She had barked several more orders before all was completely to her satisfaction.
"Sanford, see that he is brought into the best parlor and make sure there is at least one footman to attend him. Send in Harold—he will do the best and looks the sharpest in his uniform.
"Cook, get the out finest tea set and call those extra footmen to help you clean it. Prepare something for a feast—but make it elegant! And make sure he has some sort of nourishment now, for who knows how long it will take Cecelia to get ready, let alone wake up. I cannot determine whether she slept at all last evening.
"Matilda and Penelope, I want you both upstairs with me and Cecelia. We must have our hair done splendidly.
"William! Get dressed in something decent—not that old coat—and entertain him until we can join you. Now! Oh, and make sure Dawkins has shined your nice boots as well."
By the time Mrs. Hammerstein-Smythe had made it up the stairs, the special guest's horse had been stabled and the man had been ushered into the best parlor with the footman. A small tray of finger foods had miraculously been thrown together and artfully arranged. Tea was brewing, and the feast was in its beginning preparations while Cecelia was just then stretching awake from her long night out with the beast.
"I beg your pardon—who did you say was here?"
"The prince, miss." Matilda bobbed a curtsy. "He came all the way from his castle this very morning to see you."
Cecelia sat straight up in her bed, wide awake now. "Is this some jest of William's?"
"No, miss. He is in the best parlor now with your brother attending him. But he came with the express desire to see you."
"Me? Me? Are you sure?"
"Positive, miss. Mrs. Hammerstein-Smythe is completely out of sorts over it and has declared that you must be dressed and downstairs as soon as possible."
"Oh, great heavens!" Cecelia grumbled as she stepped out of her warm bed and began changing with the help of Matilda and Sally, her usual maid. "I wonder what in the world the man wants. He has never once singled me out before."
Her mother burst into the room in a sea of elegant red satin and gold fobs as Cecelia was in front of the looking glass getting her hair done.
"Oh, good, I see that you have already started dressing. The blue one is an excellent choice—shows off your features and handsome figure perfectly." Her mother crossed to her jewelry box and began digging inside. "Here is a pretty set of pearls, not too much for this early in the morning, I do not think—at least not when one is entertaining a prince." She clasped them around Cecelia's neck while Matilda moved to the side, still holding a lock of unruly hair she'd been taming.
"Mother, I do not think we need to go to this much trouble. I'm sure he is not here for very long anyway."
"Cecelia, you will do as you are told and look your best. You must make the most of this fortunate opportunity. Oh, how I cannot wait to see the looks on the Smithfields' faces when they learn who our important visitor was this morning." She smiled down at her daughter through the reflection. "And to think—you, of all the girls here, was the one to capture Prince Alexander's fancy."
"Mother! I did not capture his fancy. He does not even care for me. I have no idea why he has come today, but I assure you, it is not at all what you think. And I would appreciate it greatly if you did not spread this about the neighborhood. I've already had to deal with one rejection and the aftermath of gossip—I certainly do not want to deal with the whole village babbling on about how the prince does not pay me any more attention after today."
Cecelia's words were lost as she made her way into the best parlor and was met by an overly charming prince.
"Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, so good to see you!" Alexander stood and bowed as she came into the room and then he nodded toward her mother. He walked right up to Cecelia, held her hand, and directed her to the large blue velvet chair opposite his.
Her mother nearly tripped, she was so stunned by his exacting attention to her daughter, especially after the monologue Cecelia had blurted out earlier. Here was a man most decidedly interested in her child, no matter what she said about it.
Mrs. Hammerstein-Smythe opted to perch herself on the matching sofa and directed her son, who had stood when the women walked in the room, to do the same.
The prince had no eyes for anyone but Cecelia, and proved this by singling her out completely with conversation only she could answer from the moment she sat down.
"Blue suits you very well. Do you wear that gown often?"
She blinked and looked down at her dress. "Thank you. I do not wear this one much."
"And did you sleep well last night, Miss Hammerstein-Smythe?"
"I, uh—yes, I did. Very well, thank you."
"And do you find the weather recently to your liking?"
"The weather?" Cecelia was at a loss as to why he was speaking about such things. "Yes, the weather has been very fine." What was going on here? She looked back up and met a distinct sparkle in his eye. Was he teasing her? Cecelia was keen to ask him some personal questions of her own. Like, why was he here? What did he want? And just what cruel mockery would he make of her this time?
Glancing at her mother and brother, she noticed they were both staring straight at her and the prince. Of course they were! What else was there to look at? She was trapped. She could not very well ask him what she wanted to know with her family looking on. Her mother would more than likely have an apoplectic fit if she knew even half of what Cecelia was thinking right now.
"Prince Alexander, since you have been speaking of the weather, it has made me long for the outdoors. Would you mind escorting me while we stroll in my mother's rose garden?"
Mrs. Hammerstein-Smythe gasped in shock.
Cecelia did feel a momentary stab of guilt for being so brazen, but she could not think of another way to get him alone.
However, Prince Alexander was more than pleased to oblige, so there was no lasting damage done in her mother's eyes. "I would be delighted to do that very thing. In fact, I had been contemplating how to ask you, so I am grateful you thought to do so yourself."
Cecelia did not believe a word he spoke, but was satisfied he was willing to play along so well. With a small smile to her mother and a nod to William, she stood and was escorted out on the arm of the prince to the entranceway of the great house. There she was met by her maid, who carried a blue bonnet and matching pelisse. She quickly slipped both on and allowed herself to hang upon the prince's arm a moment more until they were out in the garden at last before pulling away from him.
"Do you feel better?" he asked before she'd begun her questioning.
"No, I do not feel better." She ducked behind a high rosebush, away from the window's view, and planted her hands upon her hips. "What are you doing here?"
Alexander joined her and smiled. "Irritating you, of course."
"Well!" Cecelia's jaw dropped briefly before she gathered her wits about her. "You are doing a very fine job of it." When he laughed in response, she asked, "No, honestly—why are you here? It is no secret how we feel about each other, and you know what this will do to the village. Tongues will begin wagging before you've been here an hour. They will all wonder why you have come to see me and what your intentions are." She folded her arms and tapped one foot upon the cobblestone path in agitation.
The irksome man grinned a very dashing grin while raising an eyebrow. "What if I want them to wonder? What if I hope they see me here and they talk about us?"
Her heart dropped, and she almost felt ill. "Please, my prince, please." She took a step forward and laid one hand upon his arm. "I entreat you, I beg of you, do not. I could not bear to be the laughingstock of this town." Not again. She glanced down, frantic not to meet his gaze. She simply had no pride left. "If you must have your sport, can it not be with another girl? I know you feel nothing for me. I know you detest me as much as I detest you. Please, I beg of you, do not do this."
"Miss Hammerstein-Smythe," the prince tucked a finger under her chin and gently brought her face to meet his dark brown gaze, "I am different now. I would never do anything to harm you. I assure you with all my heart, it is the least of my intentions."
Bewildered, she asked, "Why are you here, then?"