Bleeding hell…
This night just continued to get worse.
Eloise and Theo reacted instantly, trained from birth to respond to her like some Pavlov experiment, rushing to her side, fussing and clucking.
“Grannie.” Theo swallowed nervously, taking the dowager queen’s arm. “We apologize. We got caught up in a conversation. We’ll return straightaway.”
“Yes.” Anne frowned, her gaze parting the group, landing on me. “You do that. However, I am curious as to what was so enthralling that encouraged this rudeness and disregard of your duties?”
Not once did her gaze leave me. I had no doubt who she blamed for this.
“Nothing, Grandmother.” Eloise took her other arm. “It’s not important.”
“Clearly, it is.” The old bat didn’t move a muscle as her grandchildren tried to steer her away.
“Let me get you a drink. Dinner should be starting soon.” Theo forced a smile onto his face, patting her arm, but she wasn’t paying him a bit of attention. That was all on me. She gave nothing away, but in my gut, I felt she knew…something. Maybe not the exact story, but this woman was far too sharp and clever to not pick up on a bit of it.
“Dinner is now being served in the dining room,” a smooth deep voice announced from the other room.
Theo’s shoulders sagged in relief, thankful for the diversion. “Come, Grannie, let me escort you.”
She allowed him to guide her around, my breath slipping from my chest the moment her gaze left mine. My moment of reprieve was short-lived.
“Spencer.” She paused, her long swan neck swiveling to me. “I would like you to sit next to me. Allow me to get to know my future granddaughter-in-law better.”
Kill me now.
“Be my pleasure.” I dipped in a curtsy, forcing the false words up my throat, my gaze slipping to Theo. I wanted to end the facade now and walk out. I wouldn’t, though. I couldn’t do that to him, although Theo did not look a bit sorry for my predicament.
Anne regarded me for another moment before dismissing me, letting Theo lead her to the dining room.
Hazel and Eloise stared at me; their silence filled with the one thing worse than their anger—fear and pity.
My lips pinching painfully together, I took a deep breath through my nose, pushing my legs forward.
Anne was a viper, and I was the furry, little mouse about to be swallowed whole.
Chapter 17
Beads of sweat dampened my neck and armpits; every move I made was under intense scrutiny and judgment: how I sat, picked up a utensil, sipped my wine, or spoke.
The dowager queen watched me out of the corner of her eye, and outright, like a hawk waiting for the precise moment to swoop down on her prey. Theo watched me on my other side, while Eloise and Hazel glared at me from across the table. They had me covered. If this crazy stalker person decided they wanted to come in and kill me, they’d have to wait in line.
Low chatter hummed in the room as our main course was served. It took everything I had not to speed eat, hoping we could get through the evening faster. These dinners were painful on a good day.
My attention remained on the wine glass in front of me. This society was still so archaic and misogynistic that women weren’t supposed to finish a full glass of wine. Though the waiters were always circling, topping it off, so you might have several, you weren’t supposed to go below the halfway mark. It was deemed unladylike.
I was about two seconds away from saying fuck it.
“It is quite irregular for bodyguards to join a dinner party at a private residence, let alone be in the room as we eat.” Anne cut into her already sliced piece of filet mignon, taking a bite so small I wondered why she even bothered.
“I suppose it is.” I took a sip of wine, my façade cool and unruffled, but on the inside, I was like a cartoon character running around screaming and flailing about.
She frowned at my lack of response.
“That is all you have to say on the matter?”
“There was a threat, Grannie,” Theo spoke around me.
“There is always a threat.” She rolled her eyes like we were drama queens.
“This one was more credible. They wanted to take extra precautions.” Theo’s hand came down on my leg. “Especially for Spencer.”
“The threat was for her?” Grannie’s eyebrows went up, then returned to her dish. “I wouldn’t think she would be worth threatening.”
Ouch. The comment was subtle and thrown away like she didn’t just stab me—zing one for Grannie.
“It was for all of us, but they singled Spencer out.” Theo’s hand moved up and down my thigh as I darted my gaze to him. He kept his head forward, acting like he didn’t feel my eyes burning into him.
“Theo,” I ground out, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“What?” He smiled widely, leaning into my ear. “We’re supposed to be acting like two people in love.” His lips grazed my ear. “Like we can’t keep our hands off each other.” He kissed my cheek, then turned his head to his other seat partner, chatting with Duke Henry, his hand staying firmly on my upper thigh.
Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it here.
My skin prickled with the sensation of eyes on me. I didn’t have to look. I could feel Lennox behind me, his gaze burning into the back of my neck.
“So…Spencer,” Anne’s lips twisted down as she clicked her tongue. “Who names a girl Spencer anyway? It’s so masculine and harsh on the tongue and even worse on the ear.”
“I was named after my great-great-grandfather, Lord Spencer.” I stabbed at the fish on my plate, the Prime Minister kindly recalling I didn’t eat red meat when everyone in the Royal House did. “He was the King’s best friend, was he not? You probably remember…you were around then, weren’t you?”
Anne’s mouth parted, choking slightly on her bite of food.
Zing one for Spencer.
“Around then? What nonsense.” She quickly gathered herself. “And his best friend? What are we, in school? Neither men nor kings have best friends, as you adorably put it.” She took a sip of her wine, staring off as if she was recalling a memory. “Hmm…Lord Spencer, yes, I think he was spoken of with great respect. I can only imagine his disappointment at what has happened to your family name since then.”
Zing two. Bloody hell, this woman was good.
“Good thing he’s long dead then.”
She pressed her lips, her head shaking. “You don’t think I can see what is going on with you?” Her voice was steady and controlled but full of implications.
My tongue swelled. “What do you mean?”
“You have no real desire to be part of this revered monarchy. You are stepping into one of the most prestigious roles in the world. Women groomed from birth covet the chance to be deemed worthy of being chosen. Yet, here you are. Merely by marrying my grandson, you will be allowed to be addressed as princess, and then you will be queen. Once you marry, there is no turning back. You are part of this family and will be called upon to act like it. You will be the dutiful wife and queen, no matter what private issues are going on.” Everything in her face and words was always so even and cool; no one would suspect she was using you as a dartboard. “Will you be the princess the public and press never really accepts, or will you accept your role and duty here?”