28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"To me, he seems equal to gods, the man who sits facing you and hears you near as you speak softly and laugh."SapphoAn atmosphere of anticipation pervaded Canastra’s palace tonight. The dining hall had been arranged with Byzantine splendor. Butterfly orchids adorned the vases and table centers. The chandeliers shimmered in blazing glory, spilling golden light over the marble statues. The Spanish aristocracy had donned their finery, the gentlemen’s uniforms bedecked with medals and orders, and the ladies sported more jewels than they had space in their limbs to carry.

Henrique stood with Dio near the Grecian colonnades. Isabel had yet to appear. After blaming him for Dolly’s disappearance, she avoided his presence. Henrique’s gaze went to the top of the stairs again, hoping to glimpse the hoydenish princess. He preferred her outrage over this dratted distance.

Dio inspected the crowd with narrowed eyes. "Do you think they are eying us strangely tonight? At least more than their usual despise of foreigners?"

Henrique ignored Dio’s fretting. "What maggot consumed Charles’s brain? He’d planned to speak to Dolly’s father. He had proposed to her. His intentions were honorable. Why did he change his mind?"

Dio crossed his arms and let out a sigh. "He could be as far as Liverpool. They were probably beyond reach before the ridiculous cavalcade this afternoon."

"Stop grumbling. After Alfonso decided to search for Dolly, it would have been strange if we had demurred, if not outwardly suspicious."

"And so we went. Instead of spending the siesta with my saucy maid, I had to comb the countryside until our asses were numb." Dio lifted his glass to his mouth. "Rafaela is flaying you alive. Someone’s been naughty."

"Rafaela is her husband’s problem." Henrique gulped a liberal amount of brandy. Between Isa’s outburst in the garden and Rafaela’s midnight escapade to his room, he had enough. He understood Rafaela’s desperation with her passionless marriage, but he would not accept Isa’s desire for a quick tumble on the grass. He wanted more from her. Christ. After seeing her flying, her joy... It was the first time he felt something different from a body’s craving for sensual release. He felt a bonding of souls.

After dinner, he would take her to their secret spot under Eros and show her how deep his feelings were.

Dio groaned. "Don’t look now. The dragon is prowling near."

Henrique hid his chuckle behind a cough. Lady Montijo had developed a less than platonic admiration for his friend. It was amusing to see Dio fending off her advances.

Trumpet in her right hand and her turban slightly askew, she latched herself to Dio’s arm. "There you are." She leaned closer and whispered so loudly people around them stopped their conversation. "I have a problem that requires your youth, my dear."

Dio stiffened, his shoulders coming up to touch his blond curls. "And what would it be, my lady?"

Lady Montijo gave him a sly look and tapped his arm with her fan. "What a naughty, curious boy. I can’t tell you now. Come to me after dinner."

Dio rounded his eyes. "But it will be way past my bedtime."

She licked her lips. "Poor baby. Auntie will put you to sleep."

Henrique didn’t hear Dio’s repartee. The trio of violinists struck the first notes of the Heart of Granada, and the assembly hushed.

Isabel appeared at the top of the stairs. Layers of white satin and silver thread embraced her torso and trailed to the floor like a moonlit wave. As she glided down, diamonds glittered on her cocoa hair and the hollow of her throat. She moved with the grace and the dignity of a true queen.

His gut tightened, and his mouth dropped open.

Lady Montijo rapped Henrique’s forearm and said in her loud, deaf voice, like a person shouting from a cave into a strong wind. "If she isn’t the most stunning princess I ever saw, I will eat up my turban. She will make a lovely bride."

Henrique groaned. He didn’t need Montijo to express what passed through every male’s head as Isabel crossed the ballroom. Their eyes met. He expected to see anger in her gaze, but he glimpsed confusion. Sadness even. Henrique started in her direction. Just as her joy had affected him, her hurt pierced him, their connection similar to the ones uniting atoms in a molecule. Before he could reach her, Alfonso was at her side, speaking close to her ear and escorting her to the dining room.

Henrique gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay away when every primal instinct clamored for him to pummel Alfonso back into exile. He didn’t have to make a scene. He could wait to speak with her after dinner.

When the company settled at the lavishly decorated table, Alfonso stood. The Spanish aristocracy rose in unison.

Foreboding made the brandy churn in his stomach. All around him, people watched, excitement written clearly on their powdery faces. Why did he feel like the only one not privy to a joke?

He sought Isabel’s gaze. She averted her eyes, interested in whatever French wine they had served tonight. Her face had the same color as the marble statues. The opposite of the brazen red of when he touched her.

Alfonso cleared his throat. His face was flushed, and he spoke with his chin up. "I’m sorry to make this announcement during such a convoluted period. As we speak, guards are searching for Lady Dolores, and her untimely disappearance will be accounted for."

Henrique scoffed. So that was what they decided to call Dolly’s elopement? A disappearance?

Alfonso pulled Isabel to her feet.

Lady Montijo stopped harassing Dio and adjusted the trumpet to her ear.

Henrique’s gut tightened, and he could not keep a scowl from his face as the Bourbon prince kissed Isabel’s hand. For a second, Isabel’s gaze found his. What he saw there curdled his blood. Regret dulled the emerald of her eyes. What have you done, Isa?

As Canastra lifted his glass, a villainous smile tugging his lips, and the footmen lined up the doors, their trays filled with champagne, Henrique knew. His stomach sunk, and he gripped the table to stay in his place.

"Still, I hope you all will find it in your hearts to appreciate our news, even in these trying times. With great honor, I inform you Isabel de Orleans, Princess of Portugal, has accepted to be my bride."