successful. Agriculture is such an important part of the American economy, especially in Orange.” She was tired, grasping at straws, but clearly she’d said the wrong thing.
“Creating wine is not agriculture. It’s an art,” Marshall informed her.
“Of course it is,” she hastened to say. He nodded stiffly before leading her into a careful promenade turn.
As she spun, Beatrice caught sight of a blond head across the ballroom. That was Theodore Eaton, the only young man on her parents’ list who hadn’t yet sought her out. She recognized him from the photos in her manila folder.
“Excuse me, but I need to step away,” she murmured. No matter how Beatrice felt, her manners never seemed to abandon her. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“Oh—okay.” Marshall retreated, letting Beatrice cross the dance floor toward Theodore. In her full-skirted gown, weighted down with her sash and medals and the Winslow tiara, she felt a bit like a ship at full sail, making slow but stately progress across choppy seas.
“Theodore Eaton. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she declared. It was a bit more direct than Beatrice might usually have been, but she was feeling frayed and scattered.
“Your Royal Highness.” He held out a hand expectantly, his feet already pointed toward the dance floor. “And please, call me Teddy.”
“Actually …” Beatrice swallowed. “Would you mind if we just sat down for a minute instead?”
He nodded and followed her through the double doors into a sitting room, which was mercifully empty. Beatrice settled onto one of the couches with a sigh of relief.
“So, where were you all night? Hiding from me?” She meant it to come out teasing, but clearly she’d made yet another mistake, because Teddy reddened slightly.
All the years of etiquette training she’d received, and still she had no clue how to talk to boys.
“I figured that I should wait my turn,” Teddy said tactfully.
A shadow materialized in the doorway. Beatrice knew even before she looked up that it would be Connor.
He took in the scene with a single glance. Beatrice met his gaze, giving him the slightest of nods, and because after a year together they could communicate without words, Connor understood. His brow furrowed into a frown, but he made a stiff bow and retreated.
Beatrice braced herself for the inevitable half hour of bragging she was about to endure. Yet before she could ask Teddy to tell her about himself, he interrupted her thoughts.
“How are you holding up?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“This must be awkward and incredibly stressful for you, meeting a bunch of guys that your parents are trying to set you up with. How are you feeling?” he asked, then shook his head. “Sorry, I’m sure everyone has been asking you that all night.”
“Actually, you’re the first person to ask.” Beatrice felt oddly touched by his concern. “The truth is, yeah. It’s kind of weird.”
“Totally weird. Like that reality speed-dating show,” Teddy agreed, which made her want to smile. She knew the show he was talking about; Samantha and Nina used to watch it.
Teddy wasn’t all that tall, certainly nowhere near as tall as Connor, but as he leaned back against the pillows, he seemed … imposing. Not in a bad way, Beatrice decided: in a solid, steady way. But something off-kilter about his appearance kept nagging at her.
“Your bow tie isn’t on right.” To her immense surprise, she found herself leaning forward. “Here, I can redo it.”
Teddy gave an apologetic smile, though she caught another flicker of self-consciousness. Oh god. Did he think she was flirting with him? But then, wasn’t that precisely what she was supposed to be doing?
“Are you always such a perfectionist?” he demanded.
“It’s part of the job description.” She focused on her hands to keep from feeling flustered: twisting the bow tie over itself, looping it, and then pulling it through.
“How did you learn
“Creating wine is not agriculture. It’s an art,” Marshall informed her.
“Of course it is,” she hastened to say. He nodded stiffly before leading her into a careful promenade turn.
As she spun, Beatrice caught sight of a blond head across the ballroom. That was Theodore Eaton, the only young man on her parents’ list who hadn’t yet sought her out. She recognized him from the photos in her manila folder.
“Excuse me, but I need to step away,” she murmured. No matter how Beatrice felt, her manners never seemed to abandon her. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“Oh—okay.” Marshall retreated, letting Beatrice cross the dance floor toward Theodore. In her full-skirted gown, weighted down with her sash and medals and the Winslow tiara, she felt a bit like a ship at full sail, making slow but stately progress across choppy seas.
“Theodore Eaton. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she declared. It was a bit more direct than Beatrice might usually have been, but she was feeling frayed and scattered.
“Your Royal Highness.” He held out a hand expectantly, his feet already pointed toward the dance floor. “And please, call me Teddy.”
“Actually …” Beatrice swallowed. “Would you mind if we just sat down for a minute instead?”
He nodded and followed her through the double doors into a sitting room, which was mercifully empty. Beatrice settled onto one of the couches with a sigh of relief.
“So, where were you all night? Hiding from me?” She meant it to come out teasing, but clearly she’d made yet another mistake, because Teddy reddened slightly.
All the years of etiquette training she’d received, and still she had no clue how to talk to boys.
“I figured that I should wait my turn,” Teddy said tactfully.
A shadow materialized in the doorway. Beatrice knew even before she looked up that it would be Connor.
He took in the scene with a single glance. Beatrice met his gaze, giving him the slightest of nods, and because after a year together they could communicate without words, Connor understood. His brow furrowed into a frown, but he made a stiff bow and retreated.
Beatrice braced herself for the inevitable half hour of bragging she was about to endure. Yet before she could ask Teddy to tell her about himself, he interrupted her thoughts.
“How are you holding up?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“This must be awkward and incredibly stressful for you, meeting a bunch of guys that your parents are trying to set you up with. How are you feeling?” he asked, then shook his head. “Sorry, I’m sure everyone has been asking you that all night.”
“Actually, you’re the first person to ask.” Beatrice felt oddly touched by his concern. “The truth is, yeah. It’s kind of weird.”
“Totally weird. Like that reality speed-dating show,” Teddy agreed, which made her want to smile. She knew the show he was talking about; Samantha and Nina used to watch it.
Teddy wasn’t all that tall, certainly nowhere near as tall as Connor, but as he leaned back against the pillows, he seemed … imposing. Not in a bad way, Beatrice decided: in a solid, steady way. But something off-kilter about his appearance kept nagging at her.
“Your bow tie isn’t on right.” To her immense surprise, she found herself leaning forward. “Here, I can redo it.”
Teddy gave an apologetic smile, though she caught another flicker of self-consciousness. Oh god. Did he think she was flirting with him? But then, wasn’t that precisely what she was supposed to be doing?
“Are you always such a perfectionist?” he demanded.
“It’s part of the job description.” She focused on her hands to keep from feeling flustered: twisting the bow tie over itself, looping it, and then pulling it through.
“How did you learn
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