His Scandalous Christmas Princess (Mills & Boon Modern) (Royal Christmas Weddings, Book 2) by Caitlin Crews

Author:Caitlin Crews [Crews, Caitlin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mills & Boon Modern
Published: 2020-10-29T17:08:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE SO-CALLED INTIMATE dinner party was both boring and thrilling, which didn’t surprise Melody in the least. Not after a lifetime of hearing Calista’s stories about such gatherings. All that hostile gentility over the soup course, animosity disguised in airy chatter about nothing, and blood feuds concealed in manners so fine they squeaked.

“You appear to be enjoying yourself far too much,” her sister murmured when the women repaired en masse to one of the salons, an archaic custom Calista had always claimed to enjoy as it permitted a glimpse at the real faces of women who preferred to act out characters in the presence of men.

“Enjoy is a strong word,” Melody replied. She sat with her sister on one of the salon’s many couches, thereby giving the rest of the women tacit permission to sit as well. “It’s informative, isn’t it, these awkward gatherings of so many soft creatures.”

Calista made a reproving sort of sound. “They only appear soft, Melody. When it suits them. Beware the talons beneath.”

Melody knew that she and her sister had very different definitions of softness. But as Calista shifted into her queenly hostess duties, Melody settled back against her seat and tried to exude it. She tried to look shy and fragile and all the rest of the things she was supposed to be—soft chief among them. She had already met most of the women who were now fluttering around Calista, jockeying for position and pretending their only goals were sudden, bosom friendships with the brand-new Queen. And while she found a measure of enjoyment in pretending she really hadn’t noticed all the slings and arrows these same women had thrown at her in their private audiences earlier—and continued to throw out in their usual understated ways—she spent most of her time sitting softly at her sister’s side. Fuming.

At herself.

She didn’t know what had come over her this afternoon. She blamed it on back-to-back tea skirmishes with Idylla’s viper class, which would surely make anyone loopy. That was the only reason she could think of to explain why she’d actually tried to build a bridge with Prince Griffin.

And had basically admitted to him that she was hiding things, though he hadn’t picked up on it.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

Melody could not pretend she knew her husband very well. How could she when she was acting a part herself? But she knew already that whatever else Griffin was, and whatever he might like to pretend in public, he was nowhere near as foolish as the tabloids liked to claim.

He was far too self-aware, for one thing.

And tonight, as she sat about attempting to look overset and trembly while surrounded by so many high-placed members of society—all of them chattering about nothing in particular while political and powerful undercurrents flowed as freely as the wine—Melody was forced to conclude that he was a whole lot more than that, too.

The way she had the day of their wedding when she’d first noticed that leashed power in him, such a surprise in a man who acted as if all he was, ever, was charming.

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