The Trouble With Princesses Read Free Page B

nose, and bow-shaped lips that changed easily with her mood. Her body was long and slender, but graced with feminine curves that invited a man’s touch. If she weren’t so infuriatingly headstrong, he would have found her quite attractive.
    Then there was her hair—a glorious red-blond that always came as a bit of a surprise. Considering her Nordic heritage, she ought to have had extremely fair coloring with pale, perhaps even near white hair. Instead, it was as if she had been lit from within, her tresses a vibrant gold that gleamed as if warmed by a fire. Apparently nature had seen fit to expose her true passion in the color of her hair.
    And she was passionate, throwing herself fully into any endeavor she pursued.
    She danced with passion as well, he noticed, the skirts of her vivid green dress billowing in a lively flourish around her trim ankles.
    He gave an imperceptible shake of his head, a smile playing across his mouth. Only she would be brazen enough to wear such a shade when she was yet unwed. Unmarried young women—even ones with numerous Seasons to their credit—confined themselves to white and a few light, muted shades.
    But not Ariadne.
    She defied the rules of propriety at every turn. He thought she sometimes did things for the express purpose of flouting social convention, as if she were daring Society to find fault and kick her out of its exalted ranks. If she wasn’t careful, and pushed the boundaries too far, he feared she might get her wish one of these days.
    The music ended, the dancers drawing to a halt. He expected her partner to escort her across the ballroom to where Emma sat chatting with a group of young matrons. Instead, as Rupert watched, Ariadne rose up on her toes to whisper something into the man’s ear. He gave her a nod and a smile, then turned away.
    Ariadne moved into the throng exiting the dance floor, half disappearing into the crowd. But Rupert’s height allowed him to keep track of her, especially given her green dress and the red-gold hair that set her off like a beacon.
    He followed her progress across the room to the main doorway that was packed elbow to ankle with a mad crush of party guests. Then suddenly she was gone, vanished somewhere into the house beyond.
    For a moment he considered trailing after her to see what sort of mischief she might be up to—since Ariadne was always up to her pretty ears in one kind of trouble or another—but then he decided it was none of his business. He and Ariadne managed to live in his sister’s house in just the same manner, by a judicious and carefully honed talent for mutual avoidance.
    Yet her escape had given him an idea.
    Why not follow her lead and escape the party for a brief while?
    “This has been fascinating, Ambassador,” he said, interrupting the man in midsentence, “but if you will excuse me, I really must be going.”
    The man’s white eyebrows flew high as a pair of flags on his lined forehead. “Oh, o-of course, Your Highness. M-my pleasure as always.”
    Rupert didn’t remain long enough to acknowledge the other man’s bow as he strode away.
    He managed to make it halfway across the ballroom before he was stopped again.
    And again.
    And yet again.
    It took him more than fifteen minutes to extricate himself from everyone who urgently craved his attention.
    Finally, he made it into the refreshingly cool atmosphere in the rear of the house, not sure where each corridor led and not really caring so long as he found some peace and quiet. The noise from the party grew more and more distant as he moved away from the ballroom. Occasionally he passed other guests who had also wandered away from the festivities, but none of them sought to stop him, as they were too preoccupied with their own interests to wonder about his.
    He turned into a dimly lit hallway and approached a door that stood partially open. To his pleasure, he discovered it was the study. He moved into the darkened chamber, where a cozy fire burned in the