My Sweet Daisy

Chapter 17 - Mask Wearing Facade

Chapter 17

Mask Wearing Facade

The prince bowed to her. "I am pleased to meet your acquaintance formally, Miss Daisy."

She dropped a courtesy. She couldn't remember how low she was to go in front of a royal who was not the king, queen, the crown prince or his princess, and her legs were trembling so she went down almost to the floor and couldn't come back up. She heard her aunt's indignant gasp. Richard placed his hand under her arm and helped her back to her feet.

Fazed as to whether to thank him or not, she just stood there staring at him. He looked like the royal gentleman you'd expect him to be but his twinkling eyes gave away the wickedness of his heart. They overtly fed on her discomfiture.

"My, beauty must run in your family, My Lady. Next time, don't burden yourself to courtesying, Miss Daisy. I'm not fond of such conventionalisms." His drawl, she realized, was so slow and every syllable so distinct it was a mystery how he managed to keep his audience keenly hanging on his every word without getting bored somewhere in the middle. When he said his name, she felt a spark running down her spine.

Juliet appeared that instant, looking flustered on Andrew's arm. "I heard Prince Richard just came in?"

"Yes, I am here, Lady Juliet. You must have wandered far to have heard it only now."

Juliet gaped, sparing a nervous glance at her mother before fixing a charming smile on her face. Once again, Daisy saw a flinch, so tiny and so quick, in Richard's jaw as his eyes criss-crossed between Juliet and Andrew. "Now that I've seen you though, I feel better. I would've loved to have this dance but what to do seeing you're already partnered. And I'm sure all your dances have been spoken for."

Juliet started to talk but he cut her off, likely intentionally because he didn't relinquish the stage for her but kept speaking instead. "It must be too late to ask for a dance without calling down the resentment of some men upon me."
His dazzling smile turned to her instead and unexpectedly too. "What about you, Miss Daisy, can I have your next dance?"

Daisy's legs nearly gave out under her.

Unlike Juliet, he showed no consideration for any partner she might have booked, of course she had none, as he bowed to her and offered his hand. She woodenly placed hers in it, willing herself not to tremble as he led her through the deafened crowd to the dance floor. If miracles do happen, that moment would have been a perfect time for God to act before the music started but the first struck on the violins pricked without any divine intervention. The prince pulled her into his arms and she had to move along. To both her chagrin and relief, it was the same ballad they had danced to in Shingham.

"Are you feeling unwell?" he murmured.

"Your highness?" she twirled and wound up flawlessly in his arms again.

"Am I going scot-free for cutting into your dances? I remember you being quite sharp-tongued in our earlier meetings."

"I'm doing my best to focus on the dance, so I don't step on your royal toes and break them, Your Highness," she rasped and went back to counting her steps before they became mixed up in her head. His arm squeezed her tighter. She had practiced her waltz several times, preparing for that very occasion when he would claim his dance, and he was a very good dancer, but she was getting stressed out keeping track of her steps more than she had during any of her previous dances. She could feel every pair of eyes in the room bore onto her back, none admiringly; her face was flushed, and she could feel beads of perspiration pooling at unsavoury places.

"I appreciate your consideration. I must say you are looking quite lovely this evening though."

"Thank you," she muttered.

"Green does become you. I assume it is your favourite colour?"

"Not entirely. I turn to lean on it because it's one of the few colours that go with my hair." Would he stop distracting her?

"I beg to differ. A lot of colours will go well with your hair," Richard contradicted. He spanned her at what she believed to be unnecessarily too fast, and would have caused her to miss a step if she hadn't remembered on time to put her left foot backward instead of forward. "For instance, pale blue will look lovely on you. Pink would look just as fine with a bit of white. Try silvery-grey, dusted gold, pale yellow, and cream too."

"Oh my." She blinked in surprise. "Fashion must be a major part of your studies as a prince."

"Not necessary. I'm only mentioning colours I imagine will look good on you. I may be wrong." He smiled, and she missed the next step but fortunately managed to avoid his feet.

"Ah, I see. Fashion may not be but being an expert mask-wearer certainly must be. You excel at it."

"Excuse me?" She took a small satisfaction in seeing the look of confusion on his face.

"I have a feeling you hold a great dislike for Sir Andrew Fitzgerald but you mask it well. What other things do you hide? Ah yes; anger, boredom, a desire to snap when things don't go your way. Pardon my rudeness for saying this, Your Highness, but you were more congenial when you were an ordinary Richard to me without your royal title. You looked quite yourself and it was very comfortable in your company. Are you just a shy person or is it a well-taught lesson about royalty that you cover everything with a flash of your teeth? I also have a talent for reading people, but of course, I may be wrong too." She held her breath nervously as Richard continued to stare at her, not a muscle betraying the thoughts behind the intense blue gaze.

He pulled her closer and whispered into his ear, "You read people marvellously well, Miss Daisy. You put me at a disadvantage, however. It's a major setback in a royal lifestyle to be read like an opened book. I must go back to my studies and groom my mask-wearing facade."

He released her so abruptly she stumbled backward. Bodies floated in twos past them, but they stood motionless, staring at each other, on the dance floor. Considering the awkwardness she would feel if they were to pick up the dance again, he held her hand and directed her back to her aunt.

"Did I say something upsetting to Your Highness?" She found her voice again, asking shakingly.

"Certainly not."

He bowed to Lady Perribea and spurned around, beckoning to his guards to follow. He offered no courteous explanation why he ended the dance before the music did and caused a stir among the crowd who now were feasting on her with their eyes. Midway, he stopped and walked back to them. He had on a disarming smile that also felt threatening.

"Lady Perribea, can I have your permission to pick Miss Daisy up for a tour around town tomorrow? I believe she hasn't had the pleasure of seeing Cacitel yet. If it's well with you, I'd like to pick her up at seven in the morning."

It wasn't a polite request because he didn't wait for a response. Daisy was still wondering why he wanted to spend more time with her long before he had disappeared through the doors.

"Well, if anyone could, it would be Daisy. How did you drive him out so fast?" Juliet demanded furiously.

"I don't know. I really didn't do anything." Daisy shook her head. All she did was join in on their conversation. She kept her head down, afraid to meet all the accusing glares around her which weren't just her aunt's and her cousins'.

"He finally came, and you made him go?" Cynthia shrieked. "Well, don't expect any more invitations. You've made yourself a social outcast."

"I saw you two talking. What did you say to him, Daisy? Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth tightly shut during the ball?" her aunt demanded.

"I merely complimented how good he was with colour coordination." She tried not to look guilty.

"Girls, stand back to receive your dance partners," the countess instructed. "As for you, Daisy, just sit down and do not cause any more trouble."