Blast. Lady Roche was barreling down the lane towards Edwerdina. She sat on a picnic blanket, bright day muslin skirts spread in a pool of orange spice that should have clashed with her red hair like a violent storm, oblivious to the drama hurtling in her direction. Prince wasn't certain he could head her mother off in time to avert disaster, and lunged in her direction. But help stepped in from an unlikely source.
Conte de Lecce's body, straight as a lance, shifted in toward Lady Roche, blocking her ambush. Prince slowed, chuckling. The Conte was either daft or a saint. No one with any sense would willingly place themselves in Lady Roche's path.
Well, Prince was not one to kick a gift horse in the mouth and swung his gaze to Cinderella and Pricilla. Their pace could certainly not be defined as dignified, in fact bordered on scandal. They'd not seen yet realized the Conte had thwarted Lady Roche's plans. Prince bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing and ambled towards them.
"You shouldn't run," Evangeline chastised. "You'll secrete unsightly moisture."
The dynamics between the two sisters and Cinderella begged his curiosity. One moment Lady Pricilla's dour features boasted good natured humor, and the next anger turning her eyes from gray to narrowed chips of glacial ice and lips pressed. In this instant, however, she rolled her eyes. "Secrete unsightly moisture, Essie? You could not say sweat?"
Cinderella clapped a hand over her mouth, thus cutting off a burst of laughter. Prince just grinned. How enlightening these three were when they believed no one about.
Alessandro strolled over and assisted Cinderella to the ground next to Eglantine, effectively snuffing out any amusement. I am not jealous. Perhaps if he told himself enough, his heart might believe it.
Then the cur shifted the picnic basket to the center of the palate. His ruse was clear. That manipulator! He wanted closer to Cinderella. Something violent jarred in Prince's chest.
High color singed Cinderella's cheeks. Prince bolted to the group. "Pardonnez-moi," he said, squeezing between de Lecce and Cinderella. The move forced de Lecce next Ellaralda, who also, curiously, sported high spots of red on her face. Prince had the notion Erwanda could take care of herself. Cinderella was the one needing protection. Erlyse managed to disguise her discomfort. She began pulling contents from the basket.
Minutes later a plate was thrust into his hands loaded down with a leg of chicken, some cheese, and bits of fruit. Prince ate slowly, glancing around the circle of the company. Three young maidens to protect from one over-zealous Italian in line for his own title, who clearly thought himself the king of seduction.