The Thrill Is Gone

“I believe my uncle mentioned that tea would be served in the courtyard garden, right outside Milner Hall,” commented Harry as they moved along the dance floor for their third dance of the afternoon. “Would you care to take tea with me, Miss Balcázar? It is not the champagne that I had promised, but I believe the fresh air might be a welcomed changed. And if the fresh air is not enticing enough, then perhaps the privacy that it would afford might be enough to tempt you.”

“Privacy?” she nearly laughed. “I'm afraid you are quite mistaken, Sir. There is no privacy here. Not in the gardens, not in the hall. The Trustees are very keen on being in your favor.”

He moved his lips to her ear. “And I am very keen of being in yours.”

“Scoundrel,” she whispered, her lips hitching upwards into a grin. “But since you, Sir, are so adamant about taking tea, then I will be honored to accompany you, and if you so desire, I will be glad to show you to a bench, that is tucked away by a cluster of trees.”

“A cluster of trees, you say?”

“Yes, they keep it quite unseen.”

They waited until the song came to an end, to take their leave. They clapped politely in direction of the Sinfonietta, talking with nearby couples about the delicacy with which the music had been played, and then, when the performers readied themselves to begin another round of music; Paulina and Harry quietly made their way off the floor. Harry led the way, keeping a respectable distance between the brunette and himself, so as to not raise suspicions. The last thing he wanted was to have his uncle pestering him with questions. Harry knew very well what sort of man his uncle was, and if Lord Fellowes even had the slightest inclination that there was something going on between Paulina and him, he would immediately begin to bombard Paulina with questions that would certainly border on the appropriate. He would attempt to interrogate her, to know how things had developed between her and the Prince. Harry knew that she wouldn’t tell his uncle anything, she was trustworthy, but the reason he didn’t want that to happen was because he didn’t want her to have to deal with an inquisition mounted by Lord Fellowes. He wouldn’t wish that even on people he hated.

The moment that Lord Fellowes saw Harry leaving the dance floor, he excused himself from the students he was speaking to and made his way over to him. When Paulina noticed that Lord Fellowes was walking towards them, she informed Harry in a low voice. Harry responded by telling her to walk faster, maybe they could lose him in the crowd. That was wishful thinking on Harry’s part. If there was something that Lord Fellowes had a sharp eye for, it was royals. And even with the hall as crowded as it was, he easily spotted Harry and maneuvered himself in a manner that allowed him to reach the tea area, just as his nephew was asking Paulina what sort of tea she would like.

“Your Highness!” he said, quite out of breath. “You left so quickly that I had not the time to commend you on your impeccable dancing, and you, as well, Miss Balcázar. You glided across the floor with true grace. It was a true indulgence for those of us who are such lovers of dance.”

“I thank you, Lord Fellowes for your kind words.” Paulina bowed her head slightly, “Though I must admit that gliding was made simpler by the ease with which His Royal Highness led us on the floor.”

“You are being modest, Miss Balcázar. You dance gracefully, with or without my lead.” Harry’s gaze didn’t linger long on her. It was quickly redirected to his uncle. “Would you care to join us for tea?” he asked, hoping he’d say no.

“No thank you, Sir. I simply moved this way to inquire as to whether or not there was something you necessitated.”

“I'm quite well at the present, thank you.”

“Are you sure there is not something you would like?” Lord Fellowes pressed.

Despite the fact that Lord Fellowes was getting on his last nerve, Harry remained composed. “Miss Balcázar has seen to my being well looked after.”

“Has she now?” Lord Fellowes glanced towards the brunette that was standing at Harry’s side.

“She has,” answered Harry. “While we were dancing she inquired as to whether or not I fancied a cup of tea, and during our walk here, after I commented on the beauty of the gardens, she offered to show me the grounds.”

Lord Fellowes stared proudly at Paulina, pleased with her behavior. “Very well then, since you are being so well looked after, I shall take my leave and return to the Scholars inside, but it ever you necessitate anything, please do not hesitate in calling for me.” With a bow, he took his leave.

“We’re going on a walk, Sir?” inquired Paulina.

“Yes or do you not wish to indulge me with a walk?”

“I have no qualms against indulging you with a walk, Sir. Though I must admit that I no longer care for tea,” she said.

“Then I do not care for tea either.” Harry declared. “Shall we be on our way?” he held out his arm for her to take.

Paulina stared at his arm in confusion, unsure of whether or not to take it, but then she remembered all those Jane Austen adaptations that she’d watched and all those other period films, in them, the woman always took the arm of a gentleman when they went for a walk. There was nothing odd or suspicious about it. That was just how things were done. So with that thought, she took his arm and the pair began their walk, leaving the courtyard behind as they entered the opened grounds where no one else wandered.

“I think we’re free from those old sods now,” commented Harry, his face relaxing. “Bloody hell was it stifling to be so formal around you. Didn’t like it one bit.”

“Neither did I,” she said, looking up at him. “When Baron Waldegrave said that you’d showed up, I was like all what the hell about it. It caught me off guard.”

“I'm glad it did. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Why?”

“Well, I was curious about how you were around them. I’ve always seen you relaxed and at ease. I’ve seen you being you. Does that make sense?”

She nodded that it did.

“And I suppose I wanted to see you being a Rhodes Scholar. I was curious about how you are among them.”

“And how am I?”

“You fit right in.” He answered honestly. “Though I don’t know if you’ll take that as a compliment or an insult, because their company – despite what they think – isn’t that enjoyable.”

“It’s not,” she agreed, smiling. “But I want to go into politics when I'm older so I have to play the part around the trustees. That way if I ask them for a letter of recommendation for Stanford or UCLA law, they’ll be able to give me one and the admissions people will be impressed.”

“Why not Oxford or Cambridge law?” he asked. “I think they’re more distinguished than those American schools, not that I know anything about law, but everything’s better when it’s from England.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“I have every right to be. I'm quite fantastic.”

“I feel like I'm going to have to insult you a bit just to knock you back down to earth. Lord Fellowes inflated your ego way to much.”

“Inflated it? No! Him walking around, telling me how brilliant I am, didn’t inflate my ego.” Harry grinned.

“Then I must barely be noticing how full of yourself you are.”

“Not full of myself, I'm simply a bit pleased.”

“Well can you be a little less pleased?”

“That’s like asking the sun not to shine! It can’t be done! It can’t!”

“So overdramatic,” she huffed. “I don’t even know why I spend so much time with you.”

“Because you fancy me,” he said, very matter-of-factly. “And you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“Not only are you overdramatic, you’re also delusional.” She stopped walking. “I am more than capable of keeping my hands off you. You’re the one that’s constantly touching.”

“I’ll have you know that it’s not touching, it’s admiring.”

“Admiring?”

“Mhm, I’ve got to admire the fine specimen your mother and father created.”

That was it, she burst into laughter. “You’re awful!”

“And you adore me. So you must be even worse than me.”

“I must be. Maybe I should get my head checked out; something has to be off in there.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t waste time getting it checked out.”

“Why not?” asked Paulina, tilting her head slightly to the right.

“Because I’ll pay the doctor to tell you that everything’s in order.”

“Then I’ll just have to wait until my brother comes from America. Have him check me out.”

“When’s he visiting?” asked Harry.

“In late June. I think they land on the 28th.” She noticed the confused look on his face. “Him and my mom, they’re gonna be here for a week and a half.”

“Are they?”

“Mhm, they wanted to visit and I wanted them to visit so they’re flying out.” It was then that she remembered Olivia’s having asked her if Harry was going to meet her mom and brother. “And I was thinking, maybe if you weren’t busy, you’d like to come over when they’re here, and meet them and have a proper Mexican meal. I know how much you like my cooking, and I think you’d be in love with my moms, but if you can’t make it, I completely understand, I know you’re busy.”

“That’d be brilliant.”

“It would?” she cursed inwardly for having sounded too eager.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’d love to meet them and feast.”

“Awesome, yeah, that’s rad.” And there it was, that stupid massive grin had yet again engulfed her face. “I’ll tell her to make enchiladas.”

“Ah, my favorite,” he commented.

“I know,” she said. “But you don’t like the red chili enchiladas, only the green ones.”

They stood silent for a moment; staring at each other with such fondness that a kiss was sure to happen, but just as Harry was leaning in, Paulina remembered where they were and took a step back. Harry was confused by her actions, but the confusion soon gave way to the realization that although they were at a safe distance from being heard, they could still be seen.

“Have they visited you before?” he asked.

“No, they haven’t. This is the first time they come to England. Well, my mom’s first. My brother came when he was an undergraduate at UCLA for a summer abroad thing.”

“Did he enjoy it here?”

“He really liked it, but Europe’s not for him.”

“Why not?” asked Harry.

“He . . . hmm, well, I guess it’s the difference in culture. We’re from a city where it’s mostly Hispanic so we have specialty food shops, channels in Spanish, and basically it’s a mini Mexico, but over here, it’s – well, there’s not that. And my brother didn’t cope well with the change. He missed it too much.”

“Do you feel the same as him?”

“No, well, sometimes I do. I mean it’s a hard change to go from having everything be so familiar to being dropped in a completely environment, but I’ve adapted well. I love England. I’ve always been an anglophile so I think that’s helped me a lot.”

“I thought your brother was keen on European football.”

“Oh he is, but he wouldn’t want to live in Europe. Southern California is his home. He can’t imagine why anyone would want to live anywhere else. That’s why he was nagging me about not going home for winter break.”

“Were you meant to?”

“I wasn’t exactly meant to, but he gave me some travel money to use however I wanted and uh, he kept saying that I should go home and I should go home, but instead I went to Berlin to visit my friend, Rudy, who’s doing an internship there. He was upset for awhile, but he got over it.”

“I didn’t think you the sort to go to Berlin.” Harry commented. “How’d you like it?”

“It was alright, but Berlin’s not for me.”

“What was off about it?”

“Um, I don’t know how to explain it. I just – when I love a place, I feel like I can I live there. I didn’t feel that way about Berlin. I mean I liked it. I had a good time hanging out with my friend and going to clubs out there, but it’s not me. Germany isn’t a fit.”

“But England is?”

“Yeah, England is. I'm in love with England. I always read about people saying that they fell in love with Paris, and thought that was a weird thing to say, but then I came to England and well, it was love at first sight! London’s brilliant. There’s no place on earth like it! But Oxford . . . Oxford just has me. I love the open spaces, the fact that I can go out on a bike ride on a lovely day and end up in a beautiful meadow. It’s very Jane Austen, very me.”

“Austen? Really?” he nearly laughed.

“What’s wrong about Jane?” she was going to get defensive, she always got defensive about Jane Austen. “I’ll have you know that she is one of the most brilliant authors that have ever lived! Her satire, her wit, the manner in which she brought to life each and every character and constructed their world so clearly that it’s so real! It’s like the reader knows Barton Cottage and the grounds of Pemberley. And –”

“Bloody hell, you’re obsessed.”

“It’s not that I'm obsessed. I'm simply an ardent admirer.”

“Call yourself whatever ya like, but all I know is that you sound just like Gran, and Gran is quite obsessed with Jane.”

“You’re not allowed to call her Jane.”

“Says who?” he asked, arching his brow ever so slightly.

“Says me,” she proclaimed.

“And why I can’t I call her by her given name?”

“Because you’re not a Janeite,” she declared. “So you don’t have the honor of calling her Jane.”

“You’re mad.”

“Not mad, passionate.” Paulina clarified. “And even if I was a little mad, I’d be in good company.”

Harry chuckled.

“Keep laughing at Jane, and I’ll force you to watch one of the film adaptations.”

“As if I’d let you.”

She leant in closer to him. “You would if I didn’t let you touch me until you watched it.”

At that, she pulled away, taking a few steps back so there was a fair distance between them.

“That’s not fair.” Harry complained.

“I think it is.”

“It’s not,” he argued. “Those films are rubbish! Sitting through one would be absolute torture.”

“How can you say they’re rubbish if you haven’t even seen them?”

“I just know.”

“Of course you do,” she glanced over her shoulder towards the courtyard where Lord Fellowes stood watching them intently. “Your uncle might not be able to hear us, but he’s still staring at us.”

“Can’t help it, he’s a nosy bugger by nature.” Harry let out a sigh. “It’s annoying really.”

“Then why do you visit?”

“Well, I suppose it’s because of my aunt and cousins. Spending time with them is worth enduring his incessant pestering. Have you ever met my aunt?”

“No, can’t say I have.” Paulina replied. “Wait, that’s a lie. I was introduced to her once, but we just shook hands and then she followed your uncle somewhere else. So I don’t really know her.”

“You’d like her.” He said. “In public she’s very formal and she comes off as being a bit cold, but in private, when decorum can be set aside for a bit, she’s very much attentive and sincere in her affections. And my cousins are just brilliant. Get along famously with them.”

“Are your cousins here?”

“No, they’re scattered about actually. Two are at university and one’s settled down in London. My aunt’s actually in London right now. She’s with my cousin, Laura, helping her set up house and get a few things in order. She’d said she was gonna try to be here for today, but in the end, she couldn’t make it. S’alright though, it’s not like I was staying at Lord Fellowes place.”

“You’re not?”

He shook his head. “No, uh, Alistair and I reserved a hotel room for the night, but I was wondering if you’d care to join me for dinner later on. That is if you don’t have plans. I know how trying this weeks been on you with exams and all that.”

“I was just planning on catching up on some sleep, but I guess I can postpone that for awhile. But only if we can stay in,” she said. “I really don’t want to be in public. I just want to be cozy and wander around in my socks.”

Harry broke out into a massive grin. “I give you my word that we won’t go into public. I’ll pick up some take-away. What sort are ya in the mood for?”

“Hmm, I'm in the mood for soup and a sandwich.”

“Soup and sandwiches it is. I’ll go to that bistro you’re so keen on. Maybe pick up some wine while I'm at it.”

“I’ve got wine at the apartment.”

“Oh, brilliant then,” he ran a hand through his gingery hair. “So how should we do it so no one get’s suspicious?”

“I think you should go first, maybe in like an hour you can say you’ve got a headache or something. Lord Fellowes will insist that you retire so you don’t get sick and then, once you put on the wig and sideburns, you can send me a text and I’ll head out.”

“Alright, yeah, sounds brilliant. Should we get going then? Back into the hall, I mean.”

“Yeah, I'm sure my friends are going to be going on about how I was talking and dancing with Prince Harry.”

“They’ll probably think you were doing that poor brunette Henry a disservice.”

That ended up being exactly what they thought she was doing. They teased her about having set her eyes on a new Henry.

“Can’t believe you’re playing with my mate, Henry, like this,” stated Graham. “The poor bloke drives out every bloody weekend to see ya and now you’ve cast him aside for a Prince.”

“He’s gonna be heartbroken when he finds out.” Callum chimed in.

“You guys are so lame.”

“Look at her, she’s blushing!” Graham rested his head on her shoulder, batting his eyes at her. “Was he dreamy? A true Prince Charming?” he asked, placing his hand atop his heart.

“Why don’t you guys go find someone’s ass to kiss?” Paulina flicked Graham on the head.

“For your information, we’ve already kissed the asses we were gonna kiss.” Callum declared. “We’re now free to annoy you.”

“I'm afraid I'm going to have to burst your dreams of annoying me. I'm not gonna stick around much longer. I'm sleep deprived and fantasizing about some ice cream that’s in the freezer.”

Paulina ended up staying another twenty minutes and during that time; Graham and Callum went all out on their teasing her. They started joking about how she was going to become royalty and they’d have to start bowing whenever she entered a room. Then they’d go on about how they were going to have to be Henry’s support group for when he found out that she’d left him for a Prince. It was absurd of them, but was even more absurd was the fact that they were completely unaware that they’d had drinks with a Prince and that they’d laughed and talked about sports with him. They didn’t know that the Henry that she was dating was the Prince that they were teasing her about. She wondered what they’d think if they ever found out that she was with Prince Harry, if they’d treat her differently or just keep on seeing her as the same old Paulina. Her mind was pondering that question when Harry sent her a text. He said that he was just about to finish putting on his side burns. She quickly replied, telling him to make sure to get her sandwich toasted, and after having sent that text, she excused herself from her friends, from Sir John and then finally left Rhodes House and hopped on her bicycle.

She made it to her apartment with plenty of time to spare, and changed into a pair of jeans. With her hair let down and fresh socks placed on her feet, she curled up on the couch, waiting for Harry to arrive with the food. The wait wasn’t a particularly long one. Harry soon walked into the apartment, carrying two bags and wearing a bright grin on his face. He was finally free to be at ease with her.