Hand-Me-Down Princess (21 page)

Malachi knew better than to let his father get to him. For the moment, he succeeded. “What are you talking about?”

“Taking your wife to judge the garden club contest. You know what a disaster she is when it comes to speaking to anyone in public.”

He needlessly rearranged the papers on his desk. “I didn’t make the arrangements. Mother was sick. I was told Jessabelle would be going. I told you she wasn’t ready for all this, but you insisted. First, you insisted I marry her without knowing how she would do under the pressures our family deals with. Second, after you knew she wouldn’t deal well, and I told you that repeatedly, you insisted she had to make public appearances. Now she is, and you’re mad. You can’t have it both ways.”

“Do you know what will happen if she chooses the wrong winner?”

The wrong winner? Was there a fix he didn’t know about? “Nope. Sure don’t. And I don’t particularly care. Jessabelle will choose the winner she believes to be best. That’s all anyone can expect her to do.”

The king glared as only a king can do then turned on his heel and walked out.

Malachi waited until the door to the rest of the palace had closed to slump in his seat. If only she would choose the right one because it was most deserving. Otherwise, this could get nasty. He did the only thing he could. He prayed for wisdom for himself, but mostly for Jessabelle.

With the prayers still whispering in his head, he got to work.

Chapter 20

Jessabelle wished desperately Malachi had been allowed to stay with her. She had never done well with crowds. There was an undertone she didn’t quite understand. It was explained to her that calla lilies were chosen as the required element this year, as an homage to her wedding bouquet. She smiled politely and thanked them, not mentioning she’d had no idea what kind of flowers they were. The queen most likely had chosen it. It seemed that everyone wanted to talk to her. The only saving grace was that she wasn’t going to be required to give a speech.

She walked around with the garden club matriarch, looking at all of the bouquet entries from the different categories of entrants. There were some from children ages ten to eighteen. The adults were divided into different categories based on their level of experience in the floral industry. Three entrants from each category had been chosen as finalists by the other judges. She would be the final judge, determining the winners as well as choosing a “best in show” bouquet.

When everyone else began to file out for the luncheon, Jessabelle was left alone at the table containing the fifteen finalists. The categories were only numbered, giving her no way to know which was which, though she could guess which ones the professionals had done. According to what she’d been told, the calla lilies were provided to all contestants but any other flowers had to be procured on their own.

Her judging sheets were on a clipboard. With a deep breath, she went to the first one and scored it based on her interpretation of the requirements and how much she liked each one. She then slipped the sheet with the score tallied under each one. The winning bouquet from each category would have its score compared to the other winners with the highest becoming the best in show.

Finally finished, she walked toward the door where they’d entered. One of her bodyguards stood there, a serious expression on his face. “Is everything okay?” she asked, wishing she knew his name. Even after two months, her protection detail rotated through the available guards until someone settled on the best combination.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

“You seem unusually somber.”

“My mother spent many years being a part of this group,” he offered as way of explanation but provided no more details.

Jessabelle turned to look over the room filled with fragrant flowers. “My mother was a member for a time. I’m not sure why she chose to end her membership. I just know it was long before her death.”

He simply nodded and reached for the door, holding it open for her to pass through. She was escorted to the luncheon by the granddaughter who had greeted her when she’d arrived with Malachi. The rest of the guests stood as she entered the room, a smattering of applause following her to her seat.

It took every ounce of extrovert-ness she could muster, but she managed to converse with several women at her table. The roiling in her stomach meant she didn’t eat as much as she probably should have, but before long, the bouquets of all of the finalists were brought in. Someone, she wasn’t sure who, started by announcing third place in each category, reading the description provided by the contestant, including bits of information about the flowers included. She then announced the second place in the first category followed immediately by the winner. Each of the winners came to stand by their bouquet as it was announced.

“And now, for the Best in Show grand prize. The winner of this accolade will receive a lifetime membership to the club, photo of herself and the winning bouquet on the Wall of Fame, and the waiver of entry fees for the competition for the next five years.” She opened an envelope. Jessabelle found herself holding her breath, though she already knew who the winner was. “This year’s Best in Show goes to the winner of the Young Adult amateur category!”

For several seconds, there was no sound in the room. Shock covered many of the faces before they pulled themselves together and began to applaud, rising in their seats. The young woman who walked toward the podium looked speechless, tears streaming down her face.

She was handed an envelope and a plaque then stepped to the microphone. “I don’t even know what to say,” she managed to get out before stopping. It took obvious effort to control her emotions. “Most of you know my mother is the florist in the family. She often accused me of having a black thumb, and I suppose when it comes to growing flowers, she’s absolutely correct. She couldn’t be here this year as she’s caring for her ailing mother. When she encouraged me to enter, I never imagined I would be a finalist much less win Best in Show.” She turned to look at Jessabelle. “Thank you. You’ll never know how much this means to me.”

Jessabelle smiled at her, applauding politely with everyone else as the winners all returned to their seats. The luncheon was nearly over, but before the group was dismissed, she felt a presence to her side. She looked up to see one of her security detail standing there.

“I need you to come with me, ma’am.”

She nodded and excused herself, following him to the car waiting for her. Malachi would be proud of her for remembering to wave to those still gathered. Only two stiff, very formal waves, but better than forgetting.

“Why did we leave?” she asked the bodyguard as he sat in the passenger seat.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that, ma’am. I was informed that it would be best for you to leave before the luncheon dismissed.”

All righty then. She stared out the window as the car wound its way through town to the palace. Jessabelle had a feeling she’d done something very wrong. Malachi wasn’t waiting for her when the car pulled up near the door leading to their apartment, but she was told he wanted to see her in his office.

Time to face the music.

* * *

Malachi glanced up, shocked to see Jessabelle in one of the seats on the other side of his desk. Sure, he’d been absorbed in his work, but he hadn’t heard her walk in, much less sit down.

“How did it go?”

She stared at her hands where they were folded in her lap. “You tell me. I committed some kind of
faux pas,
and I have no idea what it was.”

“Who won?”

A lift of one shoulder was his only answer.

“You were the judge, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I know the names of the people who won.”

He pulled up the Conservatory’s website, knowing they would have been posted immediately. A few of the names were familiar, but he stopped on the Best in Show. “This is who won the top prize?” He turned his monitor so she could see it.

“Yes.”

“Wow.” He shook his head. “I bet they were livid.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Why? I chose the one I thought was best.”

A chuckle escaped despite his attempt to suppress it. “I’m sure you did, but it’s not the one my mother would have chosen. I would imagine many of the bouquets were designed with her in mind as the final judge. To have some of the top tier floral designers in the city chosen as the top winner has to rankle them some.”

She sat silently for a moment. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone,” she finally said quietly.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to, and they probably shouldn’t be offended. You were told to judge based on your preferences, which is exactly what you did.” He turned the monitor a bit more. “What made this one your favorite?”

She pointed to the calla lilies, one of the few flowers he could recognize on sight. “I love the purple in the middle here. Carnations are my favorite flower. I love how they smell. I really liked how the two purples of the carnations complemented the purple in the calla lilies. This is the bouquet I would have chosen for myself.”

Malachi blinked twice as the statement sank in. “Chosen for yourself? For when?” He feared he already knew the answer.

“The wedding.”

Yep. What he suspected. “You didn’t choose your own bouquet?”

“No.”

“What about your dress?”

“No.”

The base of his skull began to throb. “Did you pick anything for the wedding?”

“I wouldn’t let Stefan do anything to my hair, but that is the only thing about the wedding that I chose.”

He sank back in his seat and tried to absorb that. “I figured the reason it could be planned so quickly was because you were one of those girls who had her wedding planned long before she knew who the groom would be.”

“No. Everything was chosen for me. I believe your mother did most of the choosing, but I really have no idea.”

“But you hadn’t met my mother prior to the wedding, had you?”

“No,” she confirmed again. “I tried on three dresses sent over. Pictures were taken of each of them. I didn’t even know which one had been chosen until the morning of the wedding.”

He was going to have words with his mother when she was better. “So they didn’t even present you with a few options and ask you to choose one?”

She hesitated, though she still didn’t look at him. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.” He wished she would be and knew she was doing better.

“I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. Up until about the time we got to the other house and had dinner, I kept thinking if I pretended it was a dream, eventually I would wake up. They may have presented me with options, or planned to. I didn’t say anything except ‘ow’ when I got stuck with a pin while the seamstress tried to figure out how to fix all three dresses, since she didn’t know which one it would be.”

“And if you’d had your way? If you really had no choice with the marriage, what kind of wedding would you have chosen?”

She thought for a moment. “I suppose I would have chosen a small ceremony with just a few family members. No television cameras, no photographers, no masses of people I’ve never met and won’t remember. Just me, my father, the groom, and a few members of his family.”

He noticed the way she wasn’t specific about who the groom would be. “Did you have anyone else you would have preferred to be your groom, Jessabelle?”

She glanced up at his use of her first name. “No. There was no one. There never has been.”

He simply nodded. “I have some more work to do if you want to go on and get changed. The movers asked if they could come this afternoon. I told them I would double check with you, but unless you have an objection, you’ll be done with all of it by bedtime.”

“That’s fine.” She stood to leave but stopped. “May I go through the door in here?”

“Of course. I do all the time. Much easier than going out and all the way around.”

“Thank you.” He stared at his computer screen until the door closed behind her. Picking up the phone, he dialed then scratched a list on a sheet of scrap paper. He had things to do.

* * *

“Princess Jessabelle stood in for her mother-in-law the queen during today’s Garden Club Extravaganza. Though the princess was not asked to give a speech and was reportedly gracious and friendly with those who spoke to her, she seems to have angered the upper echelons of Erres floral society. The Best in Show winner, chosen by the princess and based on the scores she gave in the final round, was an amateur with no floral experience or background. The bouquet was made up of the mandatory calla lilies, an homage to the princess’s bridal bouquet, and carnations the winner found in her grandmother’s garden.”

Lizbeth threw the rice cake in the general direction of the trash can. When she had a hard time buttoning her favorite blue jeans, she realized the ice cream binges were catching up to her. The winning bouquet didn’t seem like anything special to her, but what did she know about flowers? Malachi had given her some from time to time when they were attending an event where a corsage was appropriate. He’d sent some for her birthday the last couple of years, but she doubted he’d picked them out. More likely, he’d told someone to pick a nice bouquet and send it for him.