The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 47: The Last Supper

I couldn't think straight as Andrew's arms crushed me, the queen gesturing for Anne, Thomas, and James to leave the room. She followed them out with a worried look our way before she closed the door quietly behind her. I didn't dare move as I clutched my prince to me, all manner of dark and terrible things swirling in my head.

Something had happened. In what little time we'd been apart, something had changed yet again. Thomas had suspected something the moment Andrew had stepped into the room, but I had known it with gut-wrenching certainty when he wouldn't look at me.

"What's happened?" I asked finally. Andrew hesitated before pulling back. Seeing the tears on his face brought a silent scream into my throat.

"He signed the treaty," Andrew said, cupping my cheek with his hand as he memorized my face.

"But you have three witnesses! Thomas said-" I started, resting my own hand on his cheek. His eyes closed at my touch before he shook his head.

"If we'd informed the bishop, our engagement would have been official to the church, requiring consent from the both of us to call it off," Andrew said, "Father got to him first."

My knees very nearly gave way as the weight of that sentence hit me. Andrew caught my elbow, guiding me to the bay window seat. His grandmother's ring slid on my finger as I sat, the sharp edges of the diamonds biting into my other fingers. It meant nothing. All of it had amounted to nothing. His naming me, the proposal, all gone on the whim of a king. An inked signature had wiped away the future I'd only just begun to imagine for myself. But it wasn't that gilded future that I would mourn, it was the man I wanted to have beside me.

"No," was all I said, clinging to Andrew. This couldn't be happening, not now, not after everything that had transpired to get me here. But when my prince kept silent, tears sprang to my eyes. We remained there, in each other's arms as the sun dipped towards the horizon. I held him tight to me, unwilling to let go, until a servant entered, pushing a cart of bell-covered trays. She hurriedly set the plates on one of the many tables scattered about the room, arranging a pair of chairs for us all while studiously avoiding looking out way.

"Her Majesty ordered you dinner," the servant said once all was prepared, bobbing a quick curtsey while still studying her toes.

"Thank you," Andrew said, his voice rumbling through his chest into my ear that was pressed up against it. It was the only sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life, that voice underscored by the steady beat of his heart.

As the scent of the food hit my nostrils, hunger flared in my belly. Through the haze of desperation, of disbelief and denial, I realized with a pang that if I was going to spend one more evening with him, all I wanted to do was relive it like all those other evenings we'd spent together. I wanted to hear his laugh and see his lopsided smile and crinkled eyes again just one more time before he swore himself to some other woman. I wanted to touch his soul again, if only for just a moment, before it would be off limits forever.

"We should eat," he said, his lips murmuring against my hair. It took us both some effort to detach ourselves, our stiff muscles just as reluctant to rise as we were. Andrew kept my hand in his, unwilling to break that connection as he led me to the table. Once I was seated, his fingers trailed down my arm until he tucked his own chair in, his knee a welcome warmth against my own.

I didn't care what we ate, but a ghost of a smile flitted across Andrew's face as he lifted the bells, setting them aside. Bowls of steaming stew faced us, the rich, spiced scent setting my mouth to watering. A basket of crusty rolls had been provided as well, which Andrew passed to me.

"This was my mother's recipe," he said, ripping apart a roll to expose the soft center within, "She used to make it for us when we were children, whenever we'd had a bad day. Father was mortified, but the cooks never batted an eye whenever she appeared in the kitchen. Apparently it was what her own mother had done for her."