Caught in a Lie ~ h.s.

♕ XXVI ♕

"Let's get this over with and then..." He abruptly stops leaving me utterly and nervously confused.

"And then?"

... and then I'll kick you out.

... and then we don't ever have to see each other again.

... and then we can part ways.

"And then," he sighs, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, "we can talk."

•••

Never in my life have I sat through a longer meal. It's not that the company was a bore or that the conversation was dull, it was just what was lurking ahead. I was distracted. I was distracted by what was to come after dinner and even more so by the man at my right. For the entirety of our meal I was hyper-aware of his presence, his accidental brushes of his hand against mine on occasion, and of course those eyes.

His family is kind, some of the kindest and most genuine people I've ever met. Matthew, Gemma's husband, seemed far from surprised with my presence in his dining room. He didn't look fazed at all as a member of the royal family sat comfortably at his dining table at the side of his brother-in-law. Blair, on the other hand, was still as giddy as she was when we first met. She kept asking questions about ball-gowns, tiaras, and anything important that had to do with being royalty, at least to a five-year-old. The young girl's excitement grasped her young brother's attention, so I spent the entire meal entertaining the two young, impressionable children.

"Can I come visit you at your castle?" Blair asks from her perch on my lap. Somewhere between her questions and the dessert being served she had found herself on my lap, which gave her mother a near heart attack, but I didn't mind. Her small presence brought comfort to my nerves, plus I quite liked having the cheeky thing around.

"Blair, you can't just ask Mabel that."

"Nonsense," I say to Gemma before turning my attention to her daughter, brushing a loose strand of hair back out of her face. "You, and your family, are more than welcome to come over. Maybe you uncle can bring you sometime." A loud gasp leaves blair as she crawls from my lap to Harry's.

Was that a small ploy to get Harry to consider coming back to the palace? 100%. Am I ashamed of my ulterior motive? Not in the slightest.

"Can we? Can we? Can we?" Her words are rushed out between hops of her shins against Harry's thighs. I smile at her giddiness, but can't find it in me to look Harry in the face. I'd rather not peer up at him if he's sending me a dirty sideways glance.

Instead of a blatant no or even some strong thinking on his part, he only sighs.

"Maybe, love."Harry says to his niece, holding her close whilst avoiding direct eye contact with me.

I can't help the sly grin that takes over my features, but I try my best to hide it behind the nearly empty glass of red wine in my hand. I'm not completely an evil genius, although at the moment it does seem this conniving part of me is boding very well for everyone.

"Well, I'm going to start clearing up." Gemma announces, standing from her chair and beginning to gather empty plates and glasses. I suspect she just wants to escape the awkward tension in the air; it's pratcially suffocating.

I, too, raise to my feet, wanting to help, although I'm not one for cleaning or have I ever done much cleaning before.

"I'll help." Gemma merely shakes her head, collecting the dishes from my hands with a smile.

"No, thank you. You and my brother should talk." Her eyes fit down to Harry, who is sitting staring up at the two of us whilst simultaneously trying to entertain Blair. "Feel free to use the guest room upstairs, but remember the walls are quite thin." Was she hinting at us yelling or something far more suggestive? With a sly wink towards me I know it's the filthy suggestion.