The Third Son (16 page)

“I will wait for you,” he said, grasping her forearms gently and pressing his lips to hers swiftly. “I will wait until you are ready and then I will show you how it should be.”

He replaced her bonnet on her head and re-tied the ribbon beneath her chin.
Damien
took her hand and led her from the library to the entrance of palace where he ordered his carriage brought around. They rode the distance to Esmeralda’s house in silence.

Chapter 9

“I swear Davina, he was leading her about on his arm and whispering to her as if they’d known each other for years!”

“And there she sat, smiling and flirting with his brother and cousin, right there in front of everyone! It was really quite scandalous.”

Davina sipped her chocolate slowly, enjoying what little she had left of the gift Damien had given her. Her two closest friends, Giselle and Ariel had come to her townhouse to tell her about Damien and the mysterious woman he had escorted to the picnic. Giselle sat at her left, Ariel at her right, on the sofa in her parlor. Each was holding her hand and cooing to her affectionately, trying to soothe her frazzled nerves. She pressed her fingers to her temple and groaned.

“That bastard!” she spat, slamming her porcelain cup down into the saucer. “Less than a day after he threw me over and already he’s carrying on with someone new? Does he seek purposely to embarrass me?”

“Perhaps he’s been keeping her behind your back for months now dear,” said Giselle, patting Davina’s hand. “Perhaps he has waited until now to bring her out in public.”

“No,” said Davina with a shake of her head. “Damien has had his little flings behind my back and I have always looked the other way. I myself have not been entirely faithful,” she said, lowering her eyes and thinking of the burly footman she had welcomed more than once into her bed. She had called him in to soothe her the night Damien had left her angry and flustered. She smiled
. T
he young footman had done his job well. But now, she was furious all over again at the thought of some other woman moving in on Damien.

“It must have been her that came between you,” said Ariel. “Didn’t you tell me just a few weeks ago that things were going well? That Damien was visiting you well over five times a week?”

Davina nodded slowly, her mind whirring with chaotic thought. Had Damien tossed her aside for this new woman? If so, who was she and how long had he been with her behind Davina’s back? She didn’t mind when he tossed a barmaid or t
w
o, but a lady brought around in the company of his family and friends was another matter altogether.

“Yes it must have been,” Davina agreed with Ariel. “Damien was on the verge of proposing to me, I just know he was.”

Giselle shook her head. “Well you can’t let something like this come between you.
Y
ou certainly can’t spend your days hiding away like you did yesterday. Why, the entire palace was abuzz with gossip when you didn’t attend the picnic.”

“Yes,” said Ariel. “You have to get back out there and show him that you are still the perfect lady for him. This woman that no one seems to know anything about doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

Davina stood, squaring her shoulders resolutely. “You are the very best friends,” she said. “And I shall be attending the theater tonight, as I know all of the court is to be in attendance. Now do come and help me choose the right gown
.
I mustn’t be outdone!”

As Davina led her friends up the stairs and to her chambers, bellowing for Anne as she went, she vowed that Damien would be hers. She would make him regret leaving her and then make him crawl back to her on his hands and knees!

****

Esmeralda looked down at the crowded theater from the royal family’s theater box. The opera was beginning in fifteen minutes, but Esmeralda was glad they had arrived early. She gazed about at the high painted ceilings and massive crystal chandeliers. The luxurious box she stood in was situated high above the masses where common folk mixed with nobility, at least those of the nobility who could not afford a private box. People milled around talking, sipping champagne. Esmeralda had a feeling that most had come not to watch the opera, but to see and be seen. Damien stood conversing with his cousin, Nicolai, a few feet away, though he watched her with admiration in his eyes. 

She was particularly proud of her appearance in the ruby silk evening gown her father had purchased for her. Damien had surprised her upon his arrival at her home with an elegant black cape with gold satin lining. “The fall evenings are getting much cooler and I wouldn’t have you catch a chill,” he’d said.

She felt luxurious in the beautiful gown, though the corset would take some getting used to. Prince Lionus moved away from where he had been chatting with
the queen
and his betrothed, Princess Isabelle. He smiled at her as he approached, but the coldness in his eyes hardened his expression so that the smile seemed like something else altogether.

“Good evening,” he said politely

She curtsied, the plumes in her hair sweeping low. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

“I don’t believe we have been properly introduced,” he said.

“Esmeralda Brandon, your grace.”

“Brandon,” he said, seeming to think on her name. Naturally he didn’t see the need to introduce himself. “I do not believe I have ever heard your name before. Is your family here in Cardenas as well?”

“My mother, brother, and grandmother are. My father passed away.”

“My condolences.”  

Princes Lionus was not very subtle. Esmeralda knew he was curious about who she was, and was seeking to gain information. He was trying to intimidate her, but she would not be intimidated. She pulled herself up to her regal height of five feet ten inches and looked him square in the eye.

“Where do you come from, Miss Brandon?”

“From here in Cardenas, your grace.”

“How is it that I have never heard of you, Miss Brandon?” 

“Are you acquainted with everyone in the province, your grace?”

A muscle twitched in his face and the corners of his mouth turned down. He was annoyed, but so was she and she refused to be sorry for her bold remark. Damien suddenly appeared at her elbow.

“That is quite enough,” he said, which told Esmeralda that he’d been listening the whole time. 

“I am simply acquainting myself with this lovely woman you have escorted here this evening,” Lionus said, his frigid eyes lowering the temperature in the tiny box severely.  

“Like hell you were,” Damien growled, his voice low as he stepped between Esmeralda and Lionus. Icy blue eyes clashed with fiery green ones and they stood that way for a moment before someone intervened. 

“I do believe your mother wishes you to come meet someone,” said Princess Isabelle. She pointed to where Queen Alexandra stood near the entrance to the box, conversing with a visiting emissary from Barony. 

“Of course,” he said, inclining his head at Esmeralda. “Another time, then.”

Damien was still seething when his brother walked away, but Isabelle simply grasped his arm and turned her smiling face up at him. “Damien, do be a dear and fetch us some more champagne. Miss Brandon’s glass has gone empty and so has mine.”

Once Damien was gone, Isabelle patted Esmeralda’s shoulder and led her farther away from Lionus and the queen. 

“I thought to help extricate you from that situation,” she said, with a voice that was light and airy like soft music. “I hope I was not too bold.”

“No,” said Esmeralda gratefully. “I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“Oh
,
you mustn’t worry about Lionus and Damien. I do believe they have been at each other’s throats since birth.” 

“What a shame. Don’t they like each other at all?”

Isabelle smiled again, a flash of perfectly white teeth. “They love each other,” she said. “They just have different points of view and often cannot see eye to eye.”

Esmeralda found that she liked the princess already. She had seen her from a distance, but now that she had met her, she wondered why stories of the princess’ kind nature were not as prevalent as the stories of her unflawed beauty.
Isabelle
was indeed beautiful. Silvery blonde hair was curled carefully and pinned like a halo about her head, soft tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were a pale blue, combining with her pale hair and porcelain skin to lend her an angelic appearance. She was petite, several inches shorter than Esmeralda, but carried an air of confidence that conflicted with her small stature. 

“It was very lovely meeting you, Miss Brandon,” she said as Damien came near with their champagne. “I do hope you will come to the wedding,” she said, glancing pointedly at Damien.

“Of course Esmeralda will come with me, if she wishes,” said Damien, placing the champagne glass in her hand.

“I would be honored,” said Esmeralda, excitement bubbling inside of her. She had hardly expected to be invited to a royal wedding.  

The lamps were dimmed and the orchestra struck up their first notes, a sign that the opera was about to start. Esmeralda followed Damien to their seats, allowing him to take her hand as the performance began. Esmeralda found herself enthralled, pulled into the music and the drama as it unfolded. The man and woman on stage sang with clear, beautiful voices in Italian, which Esmeralda did not understand. Damien whispered the translation in her ear, causing her heart to flutter when his breath tickled her ear and the side of her neck. By the time intermission came around, tears were streaking down Esmeralda’s cheeks. Damien pressed a white linen handkerchief into her hand.

“It’s beautiful is it not?”

Esmeralda nodded. “How can you be so unaffected by it?”

He chuckled softly. “I am not. It’s only that I have seen this particular opera twice before.”

“You must come to the theater very often.”

“Yes
a
nd I will bring you as often as you wish.”

She stood from her cushioned chair, stretching her legs. “I believe I’ll visit the ladies’ room.”

“Would you like me to escort you?”

“No, I remember where it is. I can manage.”

Esmeralda
made her way from the box and down the darkened staircase. She found the retiring room and relieved herself. She checked her reflection in the mirror and wet Damien’s handkerchief at the washstand and pressed it to her eyes, which were a tad puffy from crying. Satisfied, she turned to leave the room when she was cornered by three women. 

“Hello there,” said the one in the middle with a catty smile. “Esmeralda, is it?”

For some inexplicable reason, Esmeralda felt as if she were being hunted. “Yes,” she said. “And you are?”

“I am Lady Davina Russell and these are my friends Lady Giselle and Lady Ariel.”

“How do you do?”

“Everyone is talking,” Davina continued. “Apparently you are Damien’s latest conquest?”

“Conquest?”

“Oh never you mind that dear,” said Giselle with a laugh. “When Davina became Damien’s mistress, people called her that too.”

“Mistress?” Esmeralda eyed the woman warily. She was lovely and smiling, though it hardly seemed genuine.

“Ex-mistress dear,” said Davina. “Only recently did we part ways. I suppose I have you to blame for that.”

“Oh dear, how rude of him,” Ariel simpered. “You see, Davina he has given her no jewels at all.”

Davina fingered the gaudy diamond choker at her throat and laughed.

“Davina dear, didn’t Damien buy you that stunning necklace?” asked Giselle, in her nasal, high-pitched voice.  

She
smiled. “Darling, he gifted me with everything I’m wearing. Right down to the essentials,” she said, her voice at a whisper. She leaned closer to Esmeralda, her voice dripping with disdain. “You listen to me, you little nobody! Damien has been mine for a long time and when he is finished with you he will return to me as he always does. You would do well to remember that.”

Esmeralda had long run out of patience with the venomous woman. She lifted her chin and fixed with her most haughty expression. “Well darling, I must say that though I appreciate the warning, Damien has assured me he has interest only in something fresh and not so worn out. And if that necklace and that gown are any indication of Damien’s personal taste, I believe I shall have to do without his gifts.” With that, she shouldered her way past the three women, leaving a furious Davina fuming in her wake.

Damien watched Esmeralda intently in the dark carriage, wondering at her silence. In the short time he had known her, he found he was more than content to sit in easy, companionable silence with her.
T
his was different
,
tension filled the space between them and Damien had no idea why. He had seen and been charmed by her unguarded response to the opera. She had come back during intermission, quiet but still interested in the musical.
Esmeralda
had taken his offered arm and allowed him to escort her to the carriage, though she had done so without a word.