Page 22 of A Problem Princess

But it was Cordelia who received the best gift—their beautiful smiles warmed her heart and were the only bright spots in an otherwise dreadful day. From the moment she woke, her day had been a procession of long and boring meetings during which she’d had to pretend that nothing unusual had happened to her two nights ago at the welcome ceremony.

At least today, though, she was in the fresh air and relative calm of the gardens where she could relax. Unfortunately, this moment of escape wouldn’t last long. She had an evening full of dinners and receptions ahead of her.

What she wouldn’t give to escape it all! Even if only for one day when she could do what she wanted, whenever and wherever the mood struck her, and with whom. For a few precious hours, she wouldn’t have to be aware of every word she said, every smile or glance, every time she wanted to roll her eyes or complain.

Sometimes, she simply wanted nothing more than to run away.

Today was made all the worse because she hadn’t slept a wink for the past two nights, although only part of her sleeplessness had been due to the attack. She couldn’t stop thinking about her father’s misdeeds…and about Clayton Elliott, the man who was determined to uncover them.

Was General Elliott right? Were her father’s actions the reason someone had tried to kill her? She simply couldn’t believe it, especially as no other attempts to harm her had been made. But then, since that night, Clayton had also been guarding her…always in the background, always watching, but thankfully never having the opportunity to speak to her alone and ask her again about her secrets.

For a few precious minutes right now, anyway, she didn’t have to worry about any of that. All she had to do was make a child feel special, andthatshe knew exactly how to do.

She lowered onto her heels in front of the last little girl in line, whose big brown eyes practically glowed at meeting a princess. “My! What a beautiful voice you have.” Cordelia couldn’t help reaching to straighten the girl’s hair bow. “What is your name?”

“’Lithbeth,” the little girl lisped through a gap of two missing front teeth.

“What a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth. I’m Cordelia.” She ignored the way the footman beside her stiffened at her breach of protocol. Undoubtedly, he would report her improper behavior to her uncle, but a lecture on always maintaining royal appearance would be worth the pleasure of talking to this little girl, today of all days. “I’m so happy that you were able to come to my garden party today. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

The girl beamed from ear to ear. “Here.” She jabbed her arms out from behind her back, a yellow dandelion in her small hands. “You can have thith!”

Cordelia’s eyes stung at the sweet gesture. It was nothing but a little weed the girl had plucked from the grass beside the terrace, but to Cordelia, it was more special than the dozens of bouquets that had been delivered to her rooms since her arrival.

“What a wonderful gift! Thank you.” What did she have to give to the little girl in return? She quickly checked over herself. Her eyes landed on her shoes, and she smiled. “I want you to have this.”

She removed the satin bow edged with tiny pearls decorating the tip of her shoe and pinned it to the girl’s dress.

Elizabeth stared at the little bow as if it were a priceless treasure, too stunned to remember to say thank you.

Careful of her arm, Cordelia impulsively hugged the girl tightly to her bosom. Then she whispered into her ear, “You are so very special, Elizabeth. Remember that always, will you? Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

Reluctantly, she released the girl, who collected her gift bag and skipped off to join the other children with one hand protectively guarding the bow. She stopped to look back and waved happily to Cordelia before hurrying on.

Cordelia rose to her feet to start toward the children. She couldn’t bear to part from them just yet—

“Good God, the urchins,” a tired female voice drawled from behind her, stopping her. “Mama insists on inviting them to every garden party and holiday event she hosts. I think she does it to prove she’s charitable. She cannot actuallylikethem, for heaven’s sake!”

Cordelia forced a tight smile. “Princess Sophia.”

“They’re foundlings, you know, given up by mothers who didn’t want them or couldn’t care for them, mothers who most likely delivered them into the world as bastards.” Sophia squinted against the afternoon sunshine as she gazed across the lawn where massive tents erected as a hedge against the weather stood unneeded. “Still, I suppose every child deserves a chance at a good Christian upbringing, even the unwanted ones.”

Anger flared inside Cordelia. Everyone deserved the chance to have a decent and happy life,especiallythe ones whom Fate had placed into poverty and troubled families. It wasn’t the children’s fault they were poor and disadvantaged or that the world was fixed against them so they could never rise above the lot they’d been born into no matter how hard they worked.

But Cordelia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling the royal princess what she thought. If hugging a foundling child would earn her a lecture, then Uncle Ernest would surely exile her from Monrovia if she did anything to offend her English cousins or put her future marriage in jeopardy.

She also kept silent because she felt sorry for the royal princesses, especially Sophia, even if Cordelia didn’t like her very much. Some of King George’s older daughters had managed to find husbands and escape their parents’ control, but poor Sophia had been left for spinsterhood. Worse—horrible rumors had circulated for years that she’d borne her brother Augustus’s incestuous child.

The story was ridiculous, of course, yet it worried Cordelia. Was that the kind of lies the English people spread about their royal family? No wonder the Hanoverians had become the laughingstock of Europe.

“My! What a lovely day.” Cordelia swiftly changed topics to the weather, a tactic that served her well when conversing with people she didn’t like. “We’re so fortunate it didn’t rain.”

Sophia glanced at the sky. “Hmm.”

Cordelia followed the princess’s gaze upward. When her eyes came back down, they landed on Clayton Elliott.

He stood at the side of the lawn where he chatted with a small group of ladies. If Cordelia had thought him dashing at the welcome ceremony when he’d come to her rescue, he was impossibly more handsome today in his general’s red dress uniform with its gold embroidered collar and cuffs, tight white breeches, and chest full of medals. He wore a dark blue sash diagonally across his left shoulder, gold braids across his right, and a sword at his hip. Other men in military dress uniform stood scattered throughout the gardens and terrace, but none possessed his determined bearing or strong presence.

Her heart ached as she stared at him. The night they met, for a few precious moments he’d treated her like an average woman. He’d called her beautiful and brilliant, teased her, listened to her—trulylistened, the way the palace courtiers never did. And when he’d kissed her…oh my. She certainly hadn’t been a princess to him then. She’d simply been a woman in need, and he’d been there to comfort her.