Despite going down the back hallways of the hotel, there were still too many people lingering about. It seemed that all of the staff had turned out that day and were finding excuses to travel down the hall at the same time they were. All eyes were on Griffin, and because she was with him, Maylee. She felt stupid in her silly fascinator hat, as well as uncomfortable and out of place. Were these people looking at her and judging her because her hair was in the curls that Griffin frowned upon so much? Was her dress tucked into the back of her pantyhose? She surreptitiously felt her butt, but everything seemed okay on that end. She was just nervous.
Maylee looked at Griffin and he seemed equally tense. Poor man. Her heart swelled with affection for him, and she knew that starchy, I-loathe-everything-and-everyone look on his face masked his own unease. Sidling a bit closer as they walked down the long hall, she brushed her hand against his and attempted to take his fingers in her own.
His hand brushed off hers.
Maybe he hadn’t noticed her attempt to take his hand? She strode a little closer to him and deliberately took his hand into hers.
He pulled away and looked over at her with a frown. “Not today, Maylee.”
She blinked in surprise. “What do you mean, not today?”
He shifted, walking a little faster as if trying to remain out of her grasp. “Today, I am Viscount Montagne Verdi, and I do not hold hands.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Her cheeks burned with mortification and she avoided the gaze of the people watching them.
How utterly humiliating.
He didn’t notice her discomfort, and he said nothing. He wasn’t even looking at her. Maylee was confused, but she figured it must just be nerves.
That was what it had to be, right? He wouldn’t be cruel to her again, not after how close they’d gotten? Not after their wonderful day yesterday? He’d cuddled her and held her hand as they’d toured the dig in Spain. What was different today?
They were silent as they got into the car and drove toward the palace. The streets were crammed with people, street barricades and police officers lining the way. Bellissime flags were everywhere, and Maylee began to get caught up in the excitement of the day. They were about to see a royal wedding. Heck, she was going to see it firsthand!
Well, almost. She’d actually be waiting in the back with the rest of the staff, but that was okay, too.
The crush of people near the gates of the palace was overwhelming, and the driver’s car slowed to a crawl. “My goodness,” Maylee murmured. “Everyone’s so excited.”
“It’s not every day a princess marries an actor,” Griffin said in a dry voice.
“I suppose not.” She gave him a curious look, wondering at his mood. He sounded a bit more like his unpleasant old self.
When they got to the front doors of the palace, a guard came down the steps and the chauffeur got out of the car to come to Griffin’s door. To Maylee’s surprise, Griffin leaned over and gave her a quick, fierce kiss on the lips. “You’ll go and get the condoms?”
“I’ll go,” she agreed, and laughed at the look of pleasure on his face. That was more like the man she knew. His hurtful action earlier had to simply be nerves. “See you soon.”
And then he was gone. As he appeared from the car, she could hear the roar of the crowd grow larger and larger, and he paused to straighten his jacket, giving a faint wave before heading inside. Even if Griffin didn’t like the crowds, they liked him. What wasn’t to like, Maylee mused to herself, waiting for the driver to get back at the wheel. He was young, handsome, incredibly wealthy, and titled. And reclusive. It was a fairy tale in the making.
“Where to, miss?” the driver said once he got back into the car.
“A pharmacy,” she said, ignoring the blush on her cheeks. “And then we’ll head back to the palace, but to the servant’s entrance.” She wasn’t allowed through the front doors.
“Very well, madam.”
The drive to the pharmacy took longer than she imagined, thanks to the crowds. It was hard not to get excited by their enthusiasm. Everywhere she saw pictures of Alex’s elegant face, her engagement portrait with Luke, Bellissime flags, and little girls wearing wedding veils. This was a fairy tale day for everyone involved, it seemed, and it was so fun to be part of it.
The driver eventually pulled up to a corner building. “Pharmacy, madam.”
“Thank you. I’ll be just a moment,” she told him, and got out of the car before he could get her door for her. She hurried inside, feeling conspicuous with her hat and dress. Inside, the pharmacy was quaint, the shelves short and loosely filled with an assortment of items. There seemed to be more souvenirs at the front than actual pharmaceuticals, she thought wryly to herself, but went up and down the meager aisles, searching for condoms. It felt a little embarrassing to be buying only condoms, so she grabbed a box and then headed to the souvenir stands. She’d already purchased most of the postcards and tiny flags and a commemorative mug, but today, the stands were full of newspapers and magazines, all proudly headlining the marriage of the beloved Crown Princess Alexandra to American actor Luke Houston. One paper had an enormous picture of Luke and Alex kissing at the ball, and underneath the headline was the subhead Updates On All of the Royal Family!
Curious if Griffin was there, she picked up the thick paper and then headed to the counter. The clerk gave her a curious look, but said nothing. He rang her up and Maylee paid with Griffin’s business card that he’d given her a few days before. Then, she headed back out to the sedan.
“Back to the palace,” she announced, tucking the box of condoms into the seat next to her. When the sedan crawled out onto the crowded streets again, she picked up the newspaper and began to flip through it. There were pictures of Alex and Luke in various stages of life, which were charming. After the first ten pages of photos dedicated to Luke and the princess, the paper began to include other members of the royal family. Several pages were dedicated to the queen herself, then her children. There was Alex’s mother, a distant-seeming woman. There was the widowed HRH Sybilla-Louise, looking just as regal and incredibly unpleasant as usual. Next came the grandchildren of the queen, and Maylee paused at a man who seemed a lot like Griffin. George, Duke of Calcaire, the paper read, eldest son of HRH Sybilla-Louise. That must have been Griffin’s older brother. He didn’t look pleasant either, she decided. No wonder Griffin never wanted to spend time with his family. She looked at the pictures of George with his wife, a timid-seeming blonde with a child at her side. One page was entirely devoted to George’s notorious philandering, and Maylee felt sorry for his poor wife, who had to endure public humiliation.