prince?”
“None.”
“Anthony!”
“What?”
“Is she a servant of some sort?”
“I do not know.” He frowned. “She should not be, and yet, I wonder if she is being treated as such.”
“Just a moment. Are you aware of who this girl is? Who her family is?”
“Of course. So are you—which is precisely the main reason why I prefer not to tell you who she is.”
“Because of her family?”
“Just so.”
She threw her hands in the air and then folded them, her small foot tapping upon the ground. “Anthony, if you are delving into some family you know I would not approve of, I suggest you stop this at once.”
He stood up as the footman pushed in the tea cart. “But I cannot, Mother.”
“Why?”
Walking over to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Because what if I am in love? I could not simply abandon the love of my life now, could I?”
“You are insubordinately impertinent.”
He grinned down at her and waggled his brows. “I know.”
“Anthony?”
“Yes?” he asked as he swiped a tart off the silver platter and plopped it in his mouth.
She watched him chew for a few seconds and then said simply, “You will always have my blessing if you truly love her.”
“I know,” he said, as he pilfered another tart and took a bite.
“But, Anthony?”
“Hmm?”
“Be careful with her heart, please. If you do not love her, do not continue this madness where you meet with her. You are quite charming, and could make any woman fall in love with you. Do not use this gift to accidentally harm someone whose heart is already fragile. If you believe she is being treated as a servant—”
“I know, Mother.” He quickly placed another kiss upon her cheek and stole a few more tarts at the same time. “I promise not to break her heart.”
“Good.” She turned to collect her plate and gasped at the mayhem he had caused with the tray. “Be gone you! Go meet your secret girl. If you are not staying for tea, then kindly stay out of my refreshments.”
He grinned and went to grab another, his other hand full, but she smacked his knuckles and shooed him. “Go, get. We will speak of this more tonight.”
Anthony laughed as he turned to go and lightly jogged out of the room. “I love you,” he called behind him.
His mother’s voice followed him as it echoed down the hall. “You’d better, you ungrateful wretch!”
He laughed harder.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLA WASHED HER FACE with water that was brought to her room and poured into the chipped basin on her dresser. It was nearly two o’clock and her chores were finally complete. Patting her face dry with the ragged cloth that hung upon a nail on her wall, she looked around her room. How she wished she had something prettier to wear. Something that would allow John to see her a bit differently. It was quite silly, she knew, to be forever thinking of the man. His presence meant nothing different in her life, except perhaps a small change, an excitement that was not there before.
She hung the cloth back on the nail and took the pins from her hair. He was the means of the impossible. He was causing her to have hopes and dreams she did not need. Dreams that were even now beginning to clutter up her mind.
Taking her old comb, she began to smooth out her long hair. If only she could escape this house. If only she could one day meet a man who would love her and take her away from here. He need not be like John—so very tall and handsome and a part of the court. He could very well be a nice farmer who was hoping to start his own farm somewhere. Someone who was used to working the land—someone who perhaps would not mind so very much to own a horse or two.
Ella’s hands paused in her combing. Every now and then a very impractical thing happened to her when she was alone in her room and not forever busy with chores, or errands, or the stresses of life. When all was quiet, there were some times when a great sadness would come over her. It would
“None.”
“Anthony!”
“What?”
“Is she a servant of some sort?”
“I do not know.” He frowned. “She should not be, and yet, I wonder if she is being treated as such.”
“Just a moment. Are you aware of who this girl is? Who her family is?”
“Of course. So are you—which is precisely the main reason why I prefer not to tell you who she is.”
“Because of her family?”
“Just so.”
She threw her hands in the air and then folded them, her small foot tapping upon the ground. “Anthony, if you are delving into some family you know I would not approve of, I suggest you stop this at once.”
He stood up as the footman pushed in the tea cart. “But I cannot, Mother.”
“Why?”
Walking over to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Because what if I am in love? I could not simply abandon the love of my life now, could I?”
“You are insubordinately impertinent.”
He grinned down at her and waggled his brows. “I know.”
“Anthony?”
“Yes?” he asked as he swiped a tart off the silver platter and plopped it in his mouth.
She watched him chew for a few seconds and then said simply, “You will always have my blessing if you truly love her.”
“I know,” he said, as he pilfered another tart and took a bite.
“But, Anthony?”
“Hmm?”
“Be careful with her heart, please. If you do not love her, do not continue this madness where you meet with her. You are quite charming, and could make any woman fall in love with you. Do not use this gift to accidentally harm someone whose heart is already fragile. If you believe she is being treated as a servant—”
“I know, Mother.” He quickly placed another kiss upon her cheek and stole a few more tarts at the same time. “I promise not to break her heart.”
“Good.” She turned to collect her plate and gasped at the mayhem he had caused with the tray. “Be gone you! Go meet your secret girl. If you are not staying for tea, then kindly stay out of my refreshments.”
He grinned and went to grab another, his other hand full, but she smacked his knuckles and shooed him. “Go, get. We will speak of this more tonight.”
Anthony laughed as he turned to go and lightly jogged out of the room. “I love you,” he called behind him.
His mother’s voice followed him as it echoed down the hall. “You’d better, you ungrateful wretch!”
He laughed harder.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLA WASHED HER FACE with water that was brought to her room and poured into the chipped basin on her dresser. It was nearly two o’clock and her chores were finally complete. Patting her face dry with the ragged cloth that hung upon a nail on her wall, she looked around her room. How she wished she had something prettier to wear. Something that would allow John to see her a bit differently. It was quite silly, she knew, to be forever thinking of the man. His presence meant nothing different in her life, except perhaps a small change, an excitement that was not there before.
She hung the cloth back on the nail and took the pins from her hair. He was the means of the impossible. He was causing her to have hopes and dreams she did not need. Dreams that were even now beginning to clutter up her mind.
Taking her old comb, she began to smooth out her long hair. If only she could escape this house. If only she could one day meet a man who would love her and take her away from here. He need not be like John—so very tall and handsome and a part of the court. He could very well be a nice farmer who was hoping to start his own farm somewhere. Someone who was used to working the land—someone who perhaps would not mind so very much to own a horse or two.
Ella’s hands paused in her combing. Every now and then a very impractical thing happened to her when she was alone in her room and not forever busy with chores, or errands, or the stresses of life. When all was quiet, there were some times when a great sadness would come over her. It would
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