She motioned toward the stool beside him and dropped her arms to her sides. “You’re the first person today who speaks English without staring at me funny. Can I joinyou?”
“Only if you promise no more personal questions.” He pushed the seat backward so she could sit besidehim.
She claimed the stool and picked up the bar menu. “An even exchange. I’ll take it. What beer would yourecommend?”
Sweetness stirred around him and it came entirely from the woman—essence of vanilla bean. He leaned closer to her. “You don’t strike me as a beertype.”
A scoff escaped her lips. “I’m here to change who Iam.”
He was going to ask why, but then reminded himself—no personal questions. If she wanted a beer, she should at least try a good one. He held his mug up. “Well, I suggest thestout.”
“Okay, I trust you.” The bartender came over and she repeated the beer he recommended. Once he left with her order, she turned toward him. “What’s yourname?”
“Blackwell.” He kept his last name to himself. If she Googled him, she’d find out in five seconds that he was the Duke of Oakley and one of the landed gentry. Was it wrong to just want to be himself for theafternoon?
The beer came. She paid with a ten dollar bill and then held out her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Blackwell. I’m Donna.” Her fingers were long and slender, but her grip strong. She gave him a half-smile, ended the shake and picked up her beer. She sipped it and her upturned nose said plenty. She wasn’t a fan. She gamely swallowed it down. “And this isheavy.”
He felt like laughing and he never laughed, ever. Maybe it was the way she braced her shoulders for another taste. He pressed his lips together and kept his poker face. “It’s good once you let itsettle.”
She motioned for him to click glasses as she held her mug out and toasted, “Here’s to newexperiences.”
They both sipped. The first time he’d had moonshine, his skin must have turned green, but once he passed that painful first cup, he’d come to enjoy the illegal alcohol that was stronger than any whiskey. This time she made less of a face and took a full gulp, keeping her word on no smalltalk.
Donna was the first woman he’d met in years who didn’t make him feel like he was drowning. He put his glass down. “Are you here to see the royalwedding?”
“Isn’t everyone?” She shrugged and took another sip of her beer before she put it down. Her big brown eyes gazed at him with innocence, which struck him as funny. No adult woman was ever truly innocent, but the clear earnestness in her eyes suggested otherwise. “I’ll stand in the parade and watch the carriage go by before I take the train toItaly.”
Maybe she was one of those Americans fascinated with all things royal. Why else would a woman travel alone from theUS?
He recalled the argument he’d had with his mother earlier regarding the latest lady she’d suggested for him to escort to the wedding, which led to his suffocation and anxiety. Blackwell was very aware that he had to marry. With Donna on his arm, his mother would back off. He leaned closer. “Would you want to see it upclose?”
She picked up her beer, sipped, thought about her answer, and finally said, “Sure, but they don’t let people like mein.”
Right. She had no idea who he was. He dropped his hand in front of her on the bar and inhaled her vanilla scent. “I have an extra ticket to the wedding, Donna. If you can find a dress and give me your hotel, I’ll bring you withme.”
She put her beer down and studied him as if waiting for him to shout “just kidding.” He lowered his head and smiled encouragingly. Finally, she said, “Seriously?”
With her the night would at least be sufferable. He sat straighter, liking the plan. Tonight was just one night and tomorrow, neither of them would ever see each other again. “I need a date and you’re here, wanting to go. Just don’t get romantic ideas about me and we’regood.”
She brought her hand to her throat then shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream aboutyou, Blackwell. You’re far too… umm… strong for mytastes.”
Strong? Hegrinned.
She took a napkin from the bar and found a blue pen with a white flower in her bag. He’d never seen one so decorated with stickers. Before he could comment, she handed him the napkin and deposited her pen back in her bag. “But here is my hotel info. I would love to see thewedding.”
Suddenly he was looking forward to it as well. Tonight, he had a date that he’d chosen. Hopefully she’d wear less layers so he could enjoy perusing her figure without the bulk of extra fabric. Her neat penmanship shared that she was in the inn across from this tavern and he tucked the napkin in his pocket. Donna would be a good distraction from all of the royal chaos, which was what he needed. “I’ll come pick you up at 6 PM. We will have the wedding followed by the reception at thepalace.”
She gazed at him warily, as if she debated her words even as she declared, “I trustyou.”
His mother and that tailor for the stupid velvet jacket would be up in arms if he didn’t return soon. He stood and gave her a slight bow. “You probably shouldn’t Donna, but I’ll see youthen.”
She gazed at him and then his mug. “But you didn’t finish yourbeer?”
Answering that question would reveal who he was. Tonight, she’d find out he was nobility. He wouldn’t be able to hide it when they walked into the reception or took their seats at the wedding. For now, he’d leave with Donna eyeing him as an attractive, strong man. “I need to get back to work. See youtonight.”
“Okay, bye.” Shewaved.
Blackwell raced his motorcycle back to the palace with a sense that things in his life were finally looking less bleak and monotonous. Tonight, he’d take Donna to see this wedding up close as promised. It was only fair as she’d reminded him to laughagain.
