Crowned: An Ordinary Girl. Natasha Oakley

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СКАЧАТЬ lifted her chin and straightened her spine. She’d paid a heavy price for her naivety, whereas Seb had recognised their relationship for what it was and survived it unscathed.

      That hurt. To know that she was the only one nursing any kind of regret.

      ‘Marianne’s recent research has been particularly focused on the role of women.’ The professor turned to smile at her. ‘Obviously the vast bulk of primary sources available to us have been written by men—’

      ‘And for men,’ Marianne interjected, bringing her mind back into sharp focus.

      Dr Leibnitz nodded. ‘It must make your research particularly painstaking.’

      ‘But fascinating,’ Marianne agreed. ‘Wars have always impacted on women and the Third Crusade was no different.’

      Seb stood back and listened. He wasn’t sure what had surprised him most—that Marianne was fluent in German or that she was so clearly respected for her opinions. Ten years ago she’d intended to pursue an English degree. So, what had made her change direction?

      And the German? It was impossible not to remember the times he’d tried to instruct her in his native tongue for no other reason than he’d loved to hear the strong English accent in her appalling pronunciation. There was no trace of that any more.

      Very little trace of the girl at all. This morning he’d been struck by the similarities, but this evening her ash blonde hair was swept up in a sophisticated style and her body was much more curvaceous than the image of her he held in his memory.

      Still beautiful. Undeniably. Maybe more so.

      And nervous. Seb wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did. There was nothing about the way Marianne was speaking that told him that. Outwardly she seemed to be a woman in control of her destiny, comfortable wherever she found herself, but…there was something. Perhaps the grip on her handbag was a little too tight? Or her back a little too straight?

      She hadn’t wanted to talk to him this morning—and he’d lay money on the fact she didn’t want to be here tonight. He watched the soft swing of her long earrings against the fine column of her throat and he experienced a wave of…

      He wasn’t sure of what. Regret that he’d hurt her? Maybe that was the ache inside of him? He’d never intended to hurt her. But then he hadn’t intended to do anything more than speak to her on that first day. Not much more than that on the second.

      They had all four of them been travelling through France. What was more sensible than that he and Nick should join forces with Marianne and Beth? At least, that was what he’d told his friend.

      He’d been such a fool. He’d had no idea of the possible consequences. But Nick had. Seb thought of his old school friend with a familiar appreciation. Nick had tried hard to persuade him to stay longer in Amiens. Had been a constant voice in his ear reminding him of what his parents would say…

      Marianne’s accusation this morning that he’d lied to her had startled him—and yet the more he thought about it the more ashamed he felt.

      He owed her an explanation. What he lacked was the opportunity to give it. Professor Blackwell and Dr Leibnitz might be deep in conversation, but it was pushing the bounds of possibility to imagine they wouldn’t be aware of what was being said in another part of the room.

      Seb nodded towards the butler, who opened the double doors into the intimate dining room. The party moved through and with great skill, he thought, he encouraged the professor and Dr Leibnitz to continue their conversation uninterrupted—and that left him next to Marianne.

      The butler positioned her chair behind her and she’d no choice but to accept the place. Instinct told him that she would not have if there’d been any alternative. He watched her, surreptitiously, noticing the small curl of baby-fine blonde hair that had escaped the elegant twist and had settled at the nape of her neck.

      She was a very beautiful woman. And not married. She wore no rings on her left hand. In fact, she wore no jewellery—except the long, tapering earrings that swung against her neck when she spoke.

      ‘Your German is excellent, Dr Chambers,’ Seb said, forcing her to look at him.

      Her eyes turned to him, startled, and the long earrings swung softly. ‘Th-thank you.’

      ‘Where did you learn it?’

      The butler stepped forward and moved to fill her wine glass.

      ‘No. Thank you. I’d prefer water.’

      Seb watched the nervous flutter of her hands. ‘Your German,’ he persisted, ‘where did you learn it? Your pronunciation is perfect.’

      He saw the slight widening of her eyes and knew she was remembering the afternoon they’d spent at Monet’s garden at Giverny.

      She turned her head away and her earrings swung. Marianne didn’t seem to notice the way they brushed her neck. ‘Eliana…’ She swallowed. ‘Eliana, Professor Blackwell’s wife, is Austrian. From Salzburg.’

      Seb frowned his confusion. He didn’t immediately see the connection…

      ‘I lived with Professor Blackwell and his family when I…was younger.’

      He could have sworn she’d been about to say something different. His mind played through the options. When I…finished university? When I…started work? When I…came back from Paris?

      He wanted to know. Certainly Marianne hadn’t lived with the professor’s family before France. She’d lived with her parents in a village in…Suffolk.

      ‘Eliana and Peter are close family friends of my father’s sister.’

      Ah. Seb’s eyes flicked across to the professor, still firmly engrossed in his conversation on the finer points of twelfth-century sword design. ‘And is that why you chose to study history?’

      Again her soft brown eyes turned on him with a startled expression. She gave the slightest of smiles. ‘His enthusiasm is infectious.’

      No doubt that was true, but Seb felt that her answer was only half the story. Ten years ago she’d had ambitions to write plays that would rival Shakespeare. She’d set herself the goal of reading her way through the entire works of Chekhov and Ibsen by the time she started university. So, what had changed?

      ‘I imagine it is. Professor Blackwell’s reputation is second to none.’ Seb paused while the butler placed the beautifully presented foie gras and wild-mushroom bourdin in front of him. ‘That’s why my sister is adamant I must persuade him to come to Andovaria.’

      ‘Your sister?’

      ‘Viktoria. My eldest sister. The Princess Elizabeth Museum is in my grandmother’s memory and Vik’s pet project.’

      Marianne’s mind felt as if it was spluttering. ‘Vik’ would be Her Serene Highness, Princess Viktoria? Tall, elegant, married to some equally tall and well-connected title with two young sons?

      She looked down at the heavily starched tablecloth, bedecked with more cutlery choices than she’d ever faced in her life, and tried to focus on what had brought her here. ‘But if much of what you have beneath СКАЧАТЬ