Time Travel Romances Boxed Set by Claire Delacroix Page B

easily charmed.
    Again.
    “ Really?” the woman purred,
her dark gaze gobbling up a thousand details. “Princess, is it,
darling?” she asked, her smirk condescending. “I suppose you must
be on terribly close terms with the Queen Elizabeth, then? I would
so love to have tea with her, you know, and talk woman to woman. I
could straighten out those children of hers, I’m just sure they
only need a good talking-to…”
    Aurelia blinked in surprise. “I know no
Queen Elizabeth.”
    “ Europe, then, darling?
Prince Rainier is said to be the nicest person, once you get to
know him on a more personal level, you know, darling. I suppose you
do?” The whore’s wide gaze implied that she supposed no such
thing.
    Fortunately, Aurelia had been raised with
impeccable manners, even if these barbarians had not. She drew
herself up tall and did not miss the fleeting smile that curved
Bard’s lips.
    “ I am afraid I do not know
this prince of your acquaintance,” Aurelia admitted with a smile
far more gracious than the whore deserved. Two could play this old
game of one-upmanship. “Perhaps you might introduce us, at your own
convenience, of course.”
    The whore caught her breath, but before she
could speak, the priest interjected. “Oh, yes, why don’t you have
them both over for tea one day?” There was an edge underlying his
tone and the whore fired a hostile glance in his direction. “When
are you planning to see dear Rainier next?”
    The whore gritted her teeth and looked
daggers at the priest. Apparently any hostile feelings were mutual.
“I have yet to make his acquaintance, darling,” she admitted in a
low growl.
    “ Really?” The priest’s
surprise was obviously feigned. “And here I had thought you were
the best of friends. How could I have gotten such an
idea?”
    “ Back to your corners,”
Bard interjected. “We don’t want Aurelia to imagine that you two
don’t like each other.” He quirked a brow at Aurelia with such a
conspiratorial air that she knew the truth was exactly
thus.
    Her foolish heart fluttered at his
attention, and she fought to hide any sign of her response from
that perceptive gaze.
    “ Oh, no, never that,” the
priest muttered.
    Aurelia ignored him and summoned her most
regal manner - ignoring for the moment that she was wearing no more
than a tunic - to address the whore with a winning smile. “We have
not been introduced, of course, but you must be Morticia.”
    The priest choked and the whore gasped in
outrage.
    Aurelia looked between the two of them in
confusion, then to Bard, unable to guess what she had said wrong.
His eyes flashed and she knew that somehow she had put her foot
right into it.
    Not that that was a new experience for
Aurelia.
    She quickly decided to take refuge in her
guise of stupidity. Aurelia opened her eyes wide and blinked
owlishly at the king. “But you said you had an appointment…” she
began in a childishly high voice.
    “ With Marissa,” he
interrupted tersely before Aurelia could finish. “This is Marissa
Witlowe, our interior design consultant.”
    The introduction meant nothing to Aurelia,
beyond the woman’s name, which made it easier to smile like an
insipid fool.
    Marissa did not smile. “I do all the
interiors, darling,” she echoed in a low voice, a warning light in
her dark eyes. She looped one hand through Bard’s elbow and looked
up at him with proprietary smile. “Baird and I work very closely
together, darling, especially on a project of the magnitude of
Dunhelm, so don’t be terribly surprised if he can’t manage to find
a speck of time for you.”
    She turned that cold smile on Aurelia and
her eyes were dark with what was clearly a threat. “Even if you are
royalty.” Marissa’s tone implied that she suspected precisely the
opposite.
    The priest chose that moment to take
Aurelia’s elbow with proprietary ease. “Well, it’s time we found
you a room,” he said with false cheer. He continued in a cutting
tone.