A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,110
with a couple of younger boys Leo didn’t recognize. “You want to come skating with us?”
Gabby introduced him. They turned out to be Imogen’s nephews, whom Gabby had met on the hayride a couple days ago. “Can I, Leo?”
“Sure, kiddo.” He handed her a few euros, and she ran off to the skate-rental stand. He looked around for a place to sit and watch and spied Imogen working a booth out front of her bar.
“Hello!” she called as he approached. “Can I interest you in some hot buttered cocoa?”
“Sure.” She had set up a small outdoor wooden bar complete with stools, so he collected his mug and went to sit on one. He watched her hand off cocoa-serving duties to someone else and make her way over to him.
“Gabby and I are heading home tomorrow.” He hoped. He was a little worried about the forecast: this snow was not supposed to stop anytime soon. “Thanks for all the hospitality while we were here.”
“I thought you were staying through Boxing Day. I was going to invite you all down for a little post-Christmas party I usually hold for close friends. I close the pub at five on Christmas Day and we all kick back and toast the fact that we don’t have to drink, discuss, or look at cocoa for another twelve months.”
“Yeah, well . . . our plans changed.”
“Did you and Marie break up?” she said softly.
“We were never together,” he said automatically.
“But you kind of were, weren’t you?”
Leo sighed. There was no point in lying—to her or to himself. “Yeah. We were.” He wasn’t really sure how it had happened, but it had. “Did Marie say something about us?” God, listen to him. He sounded like a teenager.
“No. It was obvious, though.”
“It was?” That was mildly horrifying.
“To anyone who really knows Marie. It was easy to see how lighthearted she was around you. I think our princess has been alone—existentially alone—for a very long time. Since her mother died, certainly.”
He sighed again. “Will you . . .” Fuck. What? What was he trying to say? “Will you take care of her when I’m gone?”
“I will.” She smiled. “But you could also just . . . not leave? Merely a friendly suggestion.”
“Maximillian von Something of the House of Whatever has arrived, so, yeah, I pretty much have to leave.”
“Ah. I see.”
Imogen didn’t sound like she saw, though. “They’re engaged. It’s being announced at the ball tonight.” He hated how indignant he sounded. He cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to just stick around for that?”
“I don’t know if it’s sticking around for that so much as sticking around for Marie. She hates that ball. She would probably appreciate having an ally there.”
“She’s getting married to someone else.” What part of this did this woman not understand?
Imogen nodded sympathetically, but then she winked. “Unless someone rewrites the ending.”
In the end, it was Max who made Marie brave. Marie had made good on her promise to invite Gabby to witness the ball preparations. They chatted while Verene did Marie’s hair and makeup. Gabby clearly had no idea what was happening between Marie and Leo, but she had been informed they were leaving tomorrow, and she was not pleased about it.
“I don’t understand what the big hurry is. There’s supposedly a party at the pub on Christmas night after it closes, and Imogen’s niece invited me to sleep over afterward.”
Marie was going to miss Gabby’s babbling so much.
“Wow, that lipstick is so pretty!” Gabby moved a little closer to get a better view. “Is that an actual paintbrush you’re using?”
“Ahem.” Max appeared in the doorway of her dressing room.
“Max,” Marie said, meeting his gaze in the mirror while Verene murmured “Good evening, Lord Laudon.”
“Lord!” Gabby exclaimed.
“Gabby,” Marie said, “this is my friend Max. Max, this is Gabby Ricci, Leo’s sister.”
“Are you a prince?” Gabby asked.
“Alas, no. A mere baron.” When her face fell, Max added cheerily, “Future duke, though, if that helps.”
“What can we do for you, Max?”
“I need a word with you.”
Marie eyed her half-made-up reflection. “Now?”
“Yes.”
She raised her eyebrows. Easygoing Max never insisted on anything, never showed up uninvited into a space as private as her dressing room. “All right.”
Verene stood. “Miss Gabriella, let us step out for a moment. Would you like me to apply some of this lipstick for you?”
After Verene and Gabby left the room, Marie rose and moved to join Max on a sofa by the fireplace. She said, “What’s on your mind?”