To Marry a Prince - By Sophie Page Page 0,8

Quite apart from the curtain of ivy which she had clawed off the wall, every single shrub she could see in the dark was either lurching at a drunken angle or missing branches. She struggled to sit up, but had got herself hemmed in by displaced urns and fallen foliage. She could not see where the shadows ended and the plants began but there was no mistaking the pressure of solid objects against her back, her knees, her feet, even her stomach. And there seemed to be nowhere to put her hands, to give herself purchase. And when she did finally wiggle up a little, so that her back was against the stripped wall, she found that the spiky heels on her shoes made it impossible for her to plant her feet side by side and simply heave herself upright.

‘I’m trapped,’ she said, in disbelief. ‘Come on, think, woman. Think!’

She had a go at releasing the strap of her right shoe. Between the awkward angle and the romantic shadows, she couldn’t really see what was going on, but tendrils of ivy seemed to have wrapped themselves round and locked the shoe to her foot tighter than any buckle would have managed.

‘What I need is a Swiss Army knife. Oh, boy, am I in trouble.’

It seemed there was only one thing left to do. She would have to surrender what was left of her dignity and crawl out of the fallen foliage on all fours, hoping that sheer body weight and her forward momentum would snap the bloody ivy. Well, thank God no one had been there to see the disaster at least.

And then an arm, in a silken sleeve as pale and perfect as the moon, pushed aside the fallen plants.

‘No Swiss Army knife, I’m afraid. And I don’t know where they keep the gardening tools. But may I offer a hand?’ said a voice. It was trying very hard not to laugh.

Bella jumped again and in pure reflex kicked the bay tree. A mistake in strappy shoes. The pain was excruciating.

‘Ow!’ Instinctively, she made to rub her stubbed toe. But she still couldn’t reach, for pots and plants.

What she did manage to do, however, was to set all the plant life in motion again. Specifically, the bay tree. It started to tip sideways slowly, like a drunken judge.

Bella pushed herself away as far as she was able, which was not very far at all. ‘Oh, no …’

Silk Shirt, however, was there first. He arrested the bay tree before it fell on top of her, and returned it to the upright position. Then he walked round her carefully, picked the thing up, mighty planter and all, and moved it out of the way.

He turned back to her then. ‘I think you’d better get out of there.’

‘I’m trying,’ said Bella between her teeth. She was tearing at the ivy that had wound itself round her ankle. But the more fiercely she tore, the faster she seemed to be caught. ‘This damned stuff won’t let me go.’

‘Let’s have a look.’

He hunkered down and considered her foot. From where she lay sprawled she saw that he had springy dark hair. And she was right, that shirt was silk. Nothing else had that sheen. Pearly white silk, as pure as snow, and here she was, looking like a compost heap. It was enough to make a girl weep.

‘Have I got twigs in my hair?’ she asked.

But he was concentrating on her feet. ‘Hmm. You’re certainly tied in pretty tight. Wonder if this ivy is carnivorous?’

‘Thank you for that thought.’

‘No problem.’

He slid a finger under one of the tendrils and Bella yelped, as much from surprise as the tightening around her ankle. He looked up quickly and she had the impression of dark, laughing eyes and a determined expression.

‘No help for it. In the absence of a knife, I shall have to tear it off with my teeth.’

He was serious?

He was serious. He bent his head.

Bella felt his breath on her ankle and went into a spasm of embarrassment. Without the bay tree to prevent it now, her foot kicked out freely. She got her rescuer under the chin, making him sit down abruptly, and followed it up by knocking out the National Grid. Well, that’s what it felt like. With a sound somewhere between a fizz and a pop, all the Chinese lanterns in the fig tree went out, along with all sorts of discreet lighting along the walls that she hadn’t even been

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