The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(59)
As planned, Gary bursts into a deep belly laugh, the nerves disappearing in an instant. “Not at all, ma’am.”
“Oh good. He’s usually well behaved.” More laughter. “Although, probably wise to keep him away from that champagne fountain.”
“Thank you for the advice, ma’am. And I must thank you for being such a wonderful patron for the charity.”
“Very welcome.” I smile, guilt niggling the corners of my conscience. I am a patron for over one hundred charities, and truth be told, I am only told what I need to know regarding the operations of them. But the point of having a known face as a patron is exposure. The tweets, the messages of support, and the media articles are not my words. They’re the words of my advisors. The speech-writers. “Can I just say, the work you do for the young adults is tremendous. Really tremendous.”
“It’s such a passion of mine, ma’am. Creativeness, art, and expression. It’s all such wonderful therapy, and as you can see”—he motions around the gallery, and my eyes follow, seeing the walls adorned with canvases, and the floor scattered with stands displaying sculptures—“the results truly speak volumes.”
“They really do,” I agree. “Well done for giving these vulnerable people such a valuable opportunity.”
He nods and motions down the line. “May I introduce you to the key members of our team, ma’am?”
“Certainly.” I scan the line and quickly gauge the length. It’s going to be a long haul. But that champagne fountain is waiting at the other end.
“May I introduce Professor Lennington,” Gary starts, motioning to the lady first in line. She curtseys, her mane of frizzy locks falling forward, her glasses slipping to the end of her nose. She quickly rectifies her out-of-place spectacles and takes my hand. “She is a very talented painter.” Gary goes on as Professor Lennington’s hand trembles in mine.
I place my other hand over it, applying a little pressure. “I hope your hand in steadier with a brush in its grasp,” I say lightly.
She laughs. “Your Highness, such an honor to have you here.”
“Professor Lennington has donated her time and invaluable knowledge to the project. We couldn’t have done it without her.” Gary smiles proudly.
“How wonderfully generous of you.” I release her hand.
“It’s been an amazing experience seeing these young adults expressing themselves so ingeniously.”
“Maybe Edward and I should explore the possibilities of expressing ourselves in such a way.” I look back to my brother who grins cheekily, offering his hand to Professor Lennington.
“I’m terribly clumsy with my hands,” Eddie says softly.
More laughter breaks out, and my brother gives me a discreet wink.
Over the next hour, we’re introduced to the entire line of twenty people, and then a dozen more before a glass of champagne is placed in my hand. I’m still not done, though I do get to sip while I am given a guided tour of the gallery, being shown endless paintings and sculptures while hearing the story of the artists, from young, homeless people, to people with learning difficulties. Listening to so many inspiring stories has the smile on my face fixed naturally.
When my tour is complete, Kim checks in with me quietly. “Can I get you anything?” she asks.
I shake my head as Eddie slopes off, collecting another glass from the fountain and settling in for a conversation with some of the charity’s representatives while I continue the pleasantries with Gary, listening to him explain how the project works, with the artists receiving a percentage of all sales to encourage their newfound hobby. I’m about to declare my intention to purchase one of the stone sculptures, a beautifully simple naked woman, when a raucous cheer erupts from the street outside, the crowds clearly still holding fort. I look across to Damon, whose hand instantly moves to his earpiece, listening carefully. He nods and catches my frown, but assures me with a mild shake of his head.
“Time to say a few words,” Kim says, motioning me to a nearby wall that has a small pair of red velvet curtains concealing what will be a sparkling engraved plaque. I move into position and face the gathered people, waiting for it to quieten down.
Then I clear my throat. “Thank you.” I smile, scanning the crowd, making sure I address everyone before me. “I am so very thrilled to be here today to …” My words get lost amid a tidal wave of shock when my scanning eyes fall upon something that I’m unprepared for. Or someone.
My breath lost, I stare at Josh Jameson standing at the back, his head literally head and shoulders above everyone. His face is straight, his blue eyes watching me. My blood sparks. My heart misses too many beats. Two suited men flank either side of him, standing tall and ominous. A cough jolts me from my stunned state, and I swallow, looking away from him. My mind is blank. Where am I? What am I supposed to be doing? Everyone is staring at me, and when Eddie frowns and looks back, I see recognition on his face as I try to focus on fixing my shakes. “I am so very proud,” I start again, breathing through my words, “to be a patron for High Spirits Charity.” I keep my eyes well away from the back of the room. What is he doing here? “Their work is truly inspiring.” I force a smile, my body arrested by shock, fear … heat. The words I memorized in the car have escaped me. Gone completely. Taking hold of the silver chain beside the curtains with a shaky hand, I fast-forward through all of my forgotten words. “I am delighted to declare the High Spirits Gallery now open.” I pull the chain, and the curtains slide across, revealing a silver plaque engraved with my name and today’s date. Applause breaks out, and Damon is quickly by my side.