Frog Meets Girl

Chapter 26--A Fairy Tale for the Man With The Dimple

The plot thickens...

            The Duke D’Urbino arrived in a cloud of glitter and dust. Horsemen on gleaming mounts, carriages laden with trunks, dogs, and servants in matching livery paraded into the receiving courtyard of the palace. The duke’s carriage stopped with the door at the red carpet that had been rolled out in his honor. Clearly, belonging to a scheming, power-grubbing family did not reduce the pompousness of the ceremony if the man was marrying a princess. Her father was clearly trying to butter them up.

            Gabby would have skipped this all if she could. Somewhere near her favorite tower, there was a baby being born and she needed two questions answered. Desperation clawed at her ribs. It was her only plan and time was skittering by.  Of course, the king stayed inside. He would come out to see his son off to war, but never came to meet dignitaries. They had to go meet him in the throne room where he could sit on a dais and look down his nose at them just so they knew their place.

            Curiosity still held some of her attention on the lead carriage. Inside was the man she would have to marry if she couldn’t act fast enough. She hoped that he would be tolerable, should she fail.

            Will was torn as he watched the carriages arrive. He wanted the duke to be prematurely balding and have a lisp, but for Gabby’s sake he felt generous enough to wish that he wasn’t completely revolting. He looked around for Niccolo Machiavelli, sure that he was wetting his pants with excitement. Stupid jerk.

            Somewhere in the entourage, trumpets began playing a tune and a man with white gloves opened the door to the duke’s carriage. What emerged first was a leg in silk hose, then a red brocade doublet, and finally a man with a head of shiny black hair and a gleaming smile complete with a deep dimple on the right side.

            Will wanted to curse.

            “Bonjiorno!” he called, waving a hand. It looked as though he’d never used them. Gabby looked down at hers. There was some dirt under her nails from working with the seedlings this morning and a bit of paint on her third finger where she gripped her brush. She smiled.

            The gravel crunched under his shiny shoes as he sauntered down the red carpet, the gold embroidery on his stockings glinting in the sun. Sauntering, he flashed smiles at the crowd, making his way to Gabby as she stood at the foot of the stairs.

            It was time for all those formal manners she’d been taught. Perhaps this would be the first time she did her training justice.

            Suddenly, Niccolo was at her left elbow, breathing loudly. “Good morning, your grace, and welcome.” He made a low bow, which the duke acknowledged with a nod. “Allow me to introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Gabriella Persephone Almondine Jane.”

He made an unnecessary, elaborate gesture toward Gabby, who made a low courtesy. Will studied her face, but could not glean her reaction to the duke from her passive expression.

Without hesitation, and with definite appreciation gleaming in his eyes, the duke took Gabby’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I am honored,” he said. “Seniore Machiavelli told me of your beauty, but you are much more beautiful that could possibly be described with words.”

Now Will wanted to puke as soon as he was finished cursing.

“The honor is mine, sir.” She extracted her hand and gestured toward the palace’s large entrance, “Please come in. I’m sure you’re tired.”