She swallowed. He would not look at her and she ached at the loss of him even in that small way. “Dash,” she began.
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and retrieved a small stack of papers. She could see they were written on in his smooth, even handwriting that she knew better than her own. “I have prepared a full briefing for you to review as you prepare for the evening.”
“I see,” she said, trying desperately to meter her tone the same way he did. “And will you abandon me tonight, then?”
Now he did dart his gaze to hers. “Not abandoning, Gia—Your Majesty,” he said swiftly. “I will be at your side as always once we reach the reception. I am just creating a distance I-I never should have closed. It is there for a reason, after all.”
She pursed her lips, hating how hurt and disappointment washed over her. She stepped back. “I suppose it is,” she said softly. “Then I will see you tonight.”
She turned away and flinched when the door shut behind her. She pushed the pain from her face as Betsy walked in from the other room. The maid’s expression was bright as she brought out the two gowns they had packed for this event. Giabella sighed and put away her thoughts as a woman on this subject. Tonight she was queen and she would need to act as such.
At the very least, it would make the sting of what felt like rejection fade a little. At least she hoped it would.
From the moment he’d first met her, Dash had always been impressed by Giabella. She wore her role as queen with an ease that many might try to replicate, but none could.
Tonight, as the reception in her honor wore on, he watched her move from aristocrat to aristocrat, engaged with each one like he was the most interesting person in the room. She laughed even when the jokes weren’t funny, she leaned in when someone told her something personal or painful, she gave both a sense of regal distance but also warm humanity to her role and to the monarchy in itself.
If she were still upset about what had transpired between them on the beach the night before, she didn’t show it to those in the room as she moved from person to person, connecting with them all. She didn’t even show it to Dash. When they’d met in the hallway outside, she had smiled and nodded to him, as usual. The only indication that anything had changed between them was that her smile didn’t reach her dark eyes.
And that she had called him Mr. Talbot before they entered the room. Oh, how that moment had stung. Even though he was the one who insisted that distance between them was important.
He shook away the thoughts and looked at her through the crowd again. She had been standing with Count Friskar for a while now. Under normal circumstances she might send Dash the very specific look that told him she needed to be rescued from a conversation that had gone on too long. But the family liked the count and she seemed not to be in need of interruption on his part. Still, Dash moved a step closer in case that changed.
Giabella laughed and his heart stuttered. By God, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met in his entire life. And when she was happy…he was happy.
But the moment passed quickly enough. Another of the counts approached, Hadley, and her smile fell back into the false one she wore for people she didn’t know or like. He touched his forearm out of habit. Dash could feel the faint throb of the raised scar where he’d been shot saving Grantham’s life half a year ago.
They spoke for a moment and Friskar bowed as he excused himself. Hadley was talking swiftly, Giabella arched a brow. She said something and Hadley nodded, motioning her toward the terrace beyond the receiving room windows. Dash caught his breath and followed them at a respectful distance out onto the terrace that had grown dark during the evening’s festivities.
Hadley was leading Giabella toward the terrace wall and Dash stepped into the shadow to watch their interaction, his body coiled to come to the rescue, his gaze focused on Gia’s face so he would see the moment when she required interruption. Because this was what he’d been for a decade and a half…he would not change it. Not until he had to. Not until the very end.
Giabella kept a serene expression on her face, but her stomach turned as she took in her companion. She had never liked Count Hadley, nor his father before him. Pompous men too full of their power, counting what they felt they were owed rather than taking seriously their duty to their people. And Hadley the younger, the one who was chattering on slightly drunkenly at her side, had always stared at her and her daughters in a certain way. Leering when he thought no one noticed.
Disgusting creature.
“But I asked you to accompany me onto the terrace so we might have a private conversation as the evening winds down,” Hadley said, and Giabella forced herself to attend.
“You know you can make an appointment with my secretary,” she said softly, “if you wish for a discussion. Or come to the capital and meet with Grantham.”
There was the slightest twitch to Hadley’s cheek at the mention of her son. Once again she thought of this bastard’s involvement with a man who had plans to kill for power. Was Hadley more involved in that than anyone knew? Or was he just as he appeared: a mindless rube who blindly reached for anything he could get?
“But why not take advantage of these more pleasant circumstances?” Hadley asked, and Giabella supposed he meant his tone to be smooth rather than desperate.
“I suppose,” she said. “Though I do have farewells to say as the evening winds down, so perhaps we should have this conversation you’d like.”
Hadley cleared his throat. “Of course. Your Majesty, I come to you as a man desperate to protect his country. And you may be the only one with influence enough to aid me.”
She arched a brow. As if the Hadleys had ever given a damn about their country. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Let me clarify. You have been part of a royal family all your life, first in Everlay and then here in Athawick. You cannot truly wish to see that long tradition dissolved by this foolish notion of your son.”
She pressed her lips together hard. “I have spent a lifetime in service to this country. Service, my lord: that is the imperative word to focus on. In their best, the aristocracy serves the people. And in this moment, the people are saying it isn’t what they want. I bow to their desires and full-throatedly support Grantham’s brave decision to change the course of our island.”
Hadley opened and shut his mouth. “But the upheaval, the loss, the…the power…”
“Are you speaking in terms of the country, or your own loss, sir?” she asked softly.
His expression hardened a fraction, but he didn’t respond. She doubted he was able, for she had likely hit upon the truth. “I realize that change is always difficult, my lord. But some pains make for the future, and so we must endure them in the knowledge that better things are on the horizon…for everyone, not just for a ruling few.” She inclined her head slightly. “And now I should return to the others. Our time together is coming to a close for now, and as I said, I would like to say my goodbyes.”
She pivoted to walk away, but Hadley shocked her by catching her wrist. He pulled her back, none too gently, and she saw the wild desperation increasing in his gaze, as well as smelled the hint of whisky on his breath. “Now wait just a moment,” he growled.