The Prince and the Player

“Right now?”

“Come, come, it will only take a moment.”

The two of them set off in the direction of the library, and I’m left alone with Miss Benedict. She’s wearing beige leggings and a pale grey tunic sweater made of a fuzzy yarn like Mohair. One shoulder is exposed, and her pale blonde hair is styled in large curls over it. Her eye makeup makes me think of that singer.

Zelda Benedict is actually quite lovely. I look down at my hands as we walk through the entryway into the left hall. Mother is at the spa in Marins, so it’s up to me to play host.

“I hope your friend isn’t ill.” Yep, no getting away from where my mind is.

“She said she was tired. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Zelda’s voice is soft. At times, it reminds me of Ava’s, but I suppose it’s because they’re friends.

We’re in the living room, and I’m looking at the wet bar in the far corner. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”

She glances up and smiles. “It would be the real thing here, wouldn’t it?”

“It is from the Champagne appellation.”

I pour us each a glass of Canard-Duchene and we do a little clink.

“Mmm,” she sighs. “It’s delicious. Not bitter or sweet.”

“It’s my mother’s favorite.”

She walks to the small fountain stationed in the center of the wall. It flows down to a grate and provides ambient noise.

“Your life here is so lovely.” Her thoughts seem to be miles away. “I can’t imagine growing up like this, without a care in the world.”

I wasn’t prepared for her comment, and I pause a moment to think about how our lives here must appear. “Before my father died, I was quite selfish. I did whatever the hell I wanted to do without worrying about anyone.”

“Are you saying you’ve changed?”

I exhale a laugh. “No, I’m still quite selfish. The only difference is now I lament the things I wish I could do while I work on the things I should.”

“I suppose that’s the definition of being noble.”

“Something like that.”

Cal’s teasing voice cuts through our sudden solemnity. “Those are some seriously long faces to be sharing champagne. Pour me a glass, brother.”

“I’ll have one of those as well, Rowan.” Reggie says. “Your mother has excellent taste in wine.”

“Find what you were looking for back there?” I call, walking to the bar for two more glasses.

“Domaine de Toasc,” Reggie answers.

Zee seems suddenly on edge. She moves from the fountain over to where my uncle is standing as if for protection. I’ve just finished pouring when James enters the room.

“If your graces are ready, dinner is served.”

Zee takes Reggie’s arm, and we proceed through double doors into a dining room off the side of the living area. I’ve always appreciated the interior design of this room. The walls are beige stone, and exposed beams line the ceiling. A heavy mahogany table is in the center, with heavy, red-upholstered chairs surrounding it. Heavy red drapes hang beside enormous French-door windows overlooking the sea. It’s one of my favorite rooms in the house, strong and rugged.

Since it’s only the four of us, I sit at the head with Zelda on my left and Reggie on my right. Cal takes the seat on Zelda’s left.

“It’s been a while since I’ve dined at this table,” Reggie sighs. His observation pricks my annoyance at his return, but I let it pass.

“We don’t normally open the house this early in the season,” Cal says. “Mother wanted to come out. She missed being close enough to walk along the shore in the morning air.”

“It must be lovely to walk along the shore at sunrise.”