The Thrill Is Gone

They were gathered in the lobby, each person waiting for their turn to be introduced into the society of those within the main ballroom. There were Lords and Members of Parliament, standing with their respective wives and husbands. There were bankers and entrepreneurs, separating themselves so as to discuss the latest economic news of the day. All around there were some of the most powerful politicians in England and some of the wealthiest individuals in all of Europe, and amongst them, standing tall and holding her head up high, was Paulina.

She was functioning on borrowed confidence, though no one in the lobby would’ve believed so. For on the outside, she was calm and composed, smiling politely and carrying herself in a graceful manner. Everything about her was inviting. She had taken her lessons to heart, and was doing everything in her power to comport in a manner befitting an intimate acquaintance of Lord and Lady Fellowes. Standing in the lobby was simple enough, she simply had to look graceful and pay attention as Lord Fellowes reminded her of talking points that she could refer back to, for her future conversation with the Prime Minister. He’d already gone over those points several times, having covered them during breakfast and then again during the drive over to the dinner. But he couldn’t help but give them one last run through. He wanted her meeting with the Prime Minister to go well. He wanted to have her praised, and to have himself praised for having distinguished such an accomplished young Scholar.

Paulina understood why he was focusing so heavily on the talking points, but she wished that he would’ve spared a few minutes during the drive over, to tell her that there were going to be photographers waiting outside for them. Of course she knew that the dinner was going to be large in scale and that there would be royals in attendance, but she had convinced herself that there wasn’t going to be any media taking pictures. In her mind, the press was more interested in stalking young celebrities than they were in following middle aged politicians with plump bellies and thinning hair, but she’d been wrong. The press was very much interested in the night’s festivities. It was, after all, one of the most exclusive political events of the year, a traditional dinner that every Prime Minister held, and as such, the press was obligated to be there in order to discuss who had been in attendance and what might be expected to come of it.

If she had known that, she would’ve prepared herself for the flashing lights, but as it was, she was completely unaware of the photographers outside. And when the door opened, when Lord Fellowes stepped out, and the cameras began to flash, she went into shock. Her eyes went wide and she almost strapped her seatbelt back on, but then Lady Fellowes looked over to her and shot her a reassuring smile, the sort that mothers give their children whenever they’re scared, and it was that smile that led to Paulina exiting the limousine. She moved slowly, taking deliberate steps as she focused on her breathing and on keeping a smile firmly on her face. She thought they’d only snap a few pictures before they realized that she wasn’t known, but her being an unknown didn’t seem to be a problem, they snapped pictures as she made her way towards the entrance with Lord and Lady Fellowes, and only stopped snapping when another vehicle pulled up.

She was relieved to be away from the cameras, but then Lord Fellowes started going on about the talking points and she was tempted to tell him to shut up already and let her take in the fact that she was in the same room as Condoleezza Rice the United States Secretary of State. Was Paulina a fan of the Secretary of State? Of course not, she wasn’t a fan of anyone working in President Bush’s cabinet or him, for that matter, but the simple fact that she was standing that close to the Secretary of State was amazing to her, it felt unreal, and she would’ve liked to have had a mental fangirl moment about it, but Lord Fellowes demanded her attention, and she had to give it to him.

Paulina stood beside Lady Fellowes, and smiled politely as she listened to Lord Fellowes last minute pointers. It wasn’t until it was their turn to enter the ballroom that he stopped talking. He spoke his name, as well as that of his wife and Paulina’s to the young man doing the introductions. And once the titles had been spoken, he held out his arms, one for his wife, and one for Paulina. She carefully took hold of it, doing it just as Lady Fellowes had taught her to.

“Do not be nervous, Miss Balcázar,” spoke Lord Fellowes, quietly. “You belong in this company.”

That comment, that unexpected praise was enough to brighten her features, to give them a more joyful appearance.

“Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled, but said nothing; instead he puffed out his chest, lifted his head upwards and waited for the doors to open, for their names to be read.

“Presenting the Right Honourable the Lord Fellowes, accompanied by the Right Honourable the Lady Fellowes, and their guest, Miss Balcázar.”

Hearing her name proclaimed loudly gave her an extra burst of confidence. Her forced smile was overtaken by a natural one, and the graceful manner in which she moved, commanded the attention away from Lord and Lady Fellowes, and onto her. The wives who prided themselves on being knowledgeable on everyone worth knowing began whispering amongst themselves, trying to find out who the young woman was. A friend of Lady Fellowes was able to inform them that she was an American Rhodes Scholar, a young student whose accomplishments had impressed the right people. They pressed the middle aged woman for more information, wanting to know if the young woman was connected to any important political families in America or if she was wealthy, but none of that was known by Charlotte, the friend of Lady Fellowes.

If someone had told Paulina that she’d become a topic of discussion among the wives of Lords and Ministers of Parliament, as well as some of the actual politicians, she would’ve laughed and told them to stop drinking so much, but that was the truth. The way she carried herself had caught their attention, her appearance had kept it, and even the Prime Minister was curious to learn who it was that Lord Fellowes had brought with him to the dinner. It wasn’t long before the Prime Minister was introduced to the young woman. Since he was hosting the event, everyone had to be personally greeted by him not far off from the entrance. The usual greetings were uttered; Lord Fellowes took the liberty of stating that Miss Balcázar was currently studying philosophy at Oxford, and after a brief conversation regarding what courses she was taking, they continued to walk since another group had just made its way in.

They moved in direction of their table, where Baron Waldegrave was sitting in between his wife and Callum. A bright smile broke across Callum’s face when he saw Paulina come closer to the table. He’d had enough of humoring Baron Waldegrave and desperately wanted a change in company, but since they weren’t allowed to move around until after dinner was served, the only company he would have was that of his table. The usual greetings were uttered, and once they had introduced themselves, Paulina took her seat beside Callum.

“I must say you clean up very nice.” Paulina teased softly. “One could almost mistake you for a gentleman.”

“For your information I always look the part of a gentleman. Whether I act like one is what constantly varies.” Callum replied, in a voice so low that only she could hear him.

She had to stop herself from saying anything further, because she knew it’d probably make them burst into laughter and earn them, glares from their respective member in society. So instead she lifted her glass of water to her lips and took in a sip. Callum knew what she was doing. He could see her smiling into her glass, and was perfectly aware that she was stopping herself from saying something that would get them in trouble.

“How were the photographers?” he asked once she’d set her glass down.

“They were . . . well, I don’t really know how to describe photographers. I haven’t had much practice with them, but they were polite, if that counts for anything.” Paulina set down the glass. “Have you been here long?”

“About twenty minutes. So not long, not really, but I am quite hungry now. Hopefully dinner will be served soon enough.” He glanced over at the other side of the room; there was still a good chunk of empty tables. “I heard that the American Secretary of State is in attendance. Is that true? Have you seen her?”

“I have actually. She’s outside waiting to get in.”

“Did you introduce yourself?”

She shook her head. “While I am awestruck at being in the same room as such an important American politician, I can’t very well say that I am anxious to make her acquaintance. I strongly disagree with her work as a National Security Advisor to President Bush, as well as politically on other grounds.”

Callum stared at her with a perplexed expression.

“She’s a Republican. I'm a progressive Democrat.”

“Oh right, right.” He wasn’t very well versed in American political affairs. Europe and New Zealand were his concerns. “Well, I don’t know if this makes any difference, but I heard Baron Waldegrave say that there was going to be another American politician at the dinner.”

“That’s right. I did.” Baron Waldegrave joined the conversation. “Apparently a Senator is to attend as well. Forgot his name, but he is very well known, I believe he is from the New England area.”

“Sir is it by chance Senator Edward Kennedy from Massachusetts?” inquired Paulina.

“Hmm, I do believe it is him. I’ve personally never met the Senator, but there are those here that are intimate friends with him.” Baron Waldegrave spoke and then returned his attention to Lord Fellowes.

“Aye Dios mio . . .” she whispered to herself, eyes frantically darting around the room in search of one of her political icons.

Her primary concern was no longer to impress the Prime Minister and the politicians. It was to become acquainted with Senator Ted Kennedy, to meet the Lion of the Senate! There wasn’t a week that went by in which she didn’t watch a speech from him. He was her hero, one of the people that she looked up to, and whose career as a liberal democrat she wanted to model her own after. He was, in her opinion, one of the greatest modern politicians in all of America. He sponsored Immigration reform, defended the reproductive rights of women, and had been involved in so many other countless endeavors. He was . . . oh, he was a Kennedy. That alone was enough to explain her admiration of the man, and of the political contributions his family had made.

“You alright?” asked Callum, taking note of the peculiar glint in her eyes. “Miss Balcázar,” he called to her.

“Yes, I am.” Paulina reassured. “I was . . . I was looking for the Senator. I know I might seem off, but he is the Liberal Lion of the Senate, and although that means nothing to you, it means everything to me as a progressive.”

“If it means so much to you, then when dinner ends, ask Lord Fellowes to introduce you.”

That was what she planned to do. It was thought that was in the back of her mind as she sat at the table, talking with Callum, as well as alternating conversation between Lord and Lady Fellowes. She couldn’t believe that she might have the opportunity to meet one of heroes. Her friends from Stanford would be green with envy. Senator Kennedy was one of those people that if you were on the political left, you almost certainly idolized.

Just thinking about what she could possibly say during a conversation was enough to give her face a soft glow, and her cheeks a rosy look. She was excited, she was nervous, and she was looking very well. In fact, she was so pleased with how things were going that she’d even managed to forget that Harry was going to be there as well. It wasn’t until Prince William was introduced to the crowd that she remembered. She stood up with the rest of the crowd, curtsied when he walked by, and then wondered where Harry was, but then she remembered that Harry wouldn’t be there until lady, until his other engagement ended.

That was to be hours from then, for now she would just sit through dinner and try to do everything she wanted before Harry got there. The dinner was a five course meal that lasted well over an hour. It was an elegant affair, and Paulina didn’t finish everything on her plate, because Lady Fellowes said that a proper young lady should always leave something on her plate. It was because of that saying that Paulina had had a sandwich before they started getting ready for the dinner.

When the dinner ended, Lord Fellowes excused himself from his wife and asked Paulina to please follow him. They were going to start making their rounds. The pair would spend what remained of the night, visiting with politicians, holding lengthy conversations, and doing their absolute best to be ever charming and memorable. Paulina wanted to grab him by the arm and drag him over to where Senator Kennedy was standing. She didn’t want to meet with Members of Parliament anymore, not when one of her role models was standing so close by, but she couldn’t just drag him off. She had to be polite, she had to embody the grace, the elegance of mind, and eloquence that Lord Fellowes had helped prepare her to be. And for nearly an hour and a half that was exactly what she was.

She walked around, she smiled, she made lively conversation, touched the talking points that they had gone over throughout the week. And at the end of it all, Lord Fellowes stated that they would visit one more time with the Prime Minister to hold a lengthier conversation. When they reached him, the Prime Minister was in the company of Secretary Rice.

“Lord Fellowes, Miss Balcázar.” He greeted them. “Have you had the pleasure of making Secretary Rice’s acquaintance?”

“I can not say we have, Sir.” Lord Fellowes spoke.

“Then you shall have it now.” Gordon Brown turned to Condoleezza. “Madam Secretary this is Lord Fellows, an old friend, and this is Miss Balcázar, an American Rhodes Scholar,” he politely made the introductions.

They shook hands and muttered the appropriate greetings amongst themselves.

“To be a Rhodes Scholar is a very prestigious honor,” stated Secretary Rice. “You must be a very accomplished young woman.”

“I would rather refer to myself as a very hardworking one, Madam Secretary.” Paulina said.

“Would you really?”

“Yes, for there are many individuals who are accomplished yet are by no accounts hardworking. I’d much rather be known by my tenacity.”

“As would I,” said Secretary Rice. “But there are many who would prefer the former.”

“There are,” agreed Paulina.

“Judging by your accent, I would say you’re from the west coast. Am I correct?”

“Yes, from the Los Angeles area to be precise.”

“Did you go to university in Los Angeles?” inquired the Secretary.

“No, I attended Stanford up north.”

“Stanford,” Secretary Rice’s smile brightened. “I taught there for many years, wonderful campus.”

“It truly is amazing. The resources and opportunities available there are extraordinary, and the students are truly fortunate to have such a faculty.”

Secretary Rice was pleased with what she was hearing. The young woman before her had a welcoming disposition, was clearly educated and well mannered since she was in such illustrious company, and as she conversed with her, she thought about what the Republican leadership had been saying for years: We need young people. Their party was filled with old white men, and they desperately needed to remain relevant by recruiting young adults and minorities to make the party seem truly diverse.

“What are your plans for the future, Miss Balcázar?” she asked ten minutes into their conversation. “You studied political science and philosophy at Stanford. You’re studying philosophy at Oxford. What is it that you wish to do?”

“I wish to be involved in politics. Perhaps become a congresswoman for my district back home, maybe work in the senate.”

“You have very ambitious dreams.”

“And I plan on making them come true. I wish to be a public servant. To help others have a chance at the American Dream, just as I have had my opportunity.”

Secretary Rice smiled, pleased with what the response. “May I be frank?”

“Of course,” said Paulina.

“I believe you have a very promising future ahead of you. You are clearly on the right track. You are tenacious, have a very impressive academic record, and are very well spoken. I think if you so desire, you could find a place in the ranks of the Republican Party. The GOP is always looking to recruit young patriotic Americans that understand the blessing that being an American is, and that are willing to uphold its basic principles. Would you, Miss Balcázar be interested?”

Lord Fellowes smiled into his brandy, very much pleased with the honor his scholar was receiving.

“While I am honored by your offer, I must politely decline.” Paulina spoke, she could feel Lord Fellowes gaze burning into her back.

“May I ask why?” inquired Secretary Rice.

“I'm a Democrat.” Paulina said simply.

“As was I,” declared Secretary Rice. “But party identification changes over the course of one’s lifetime.”

“Mine won’t,” she reassured.

“You seem very certain of that. Will you humor me with why you believe that won’t be the case for you?”

Paulina took in a deep breath, taking the opportunity to formulate a response. “I am the daughter of immigrants, the sister of a man whom desperately wishes to marry his partner of nine years, and a woman who believes that decisions concerning her reproductive rights are hers alone, not the decision of men who will never have a menstrual cycle. That’s why, Madam Secretary. I hope I didn’t come across as rude or ungrateful. I truly am honored that you thought I could have done well in the Republican Party,” she said, politely.

“The Republican Party isn’t as conservative as you might believe. We are the party of small government.”

“Yet your party wishes to invade the privacy of women by making it difficult to have access to abortions. It also wishes to keep same sex couples from marrying. I may not be in politics, but I know that if one holds those beliefs, then they must believe in big government. A small government wouldn’t do either of those things.”

“Miss Balcázar, it is possible to be a mildly prochoice Republican. That is, after all, what I am.”

“You might be mildly prochoice, but your party isn’t. It’s firmly anti-choice, and even you have been attacked for having libertarian beliefs concerning abortion. I have read what some right wing pundits have said regarding your position.” Paulina declared.

There was a moment of silence, Paulina could see Secretary Rice’s eyes flicker in annoyance, but being a true politician, being truly graceful, Secretary Rice said, “Lord Fellowes, I believe you are doing a fantastic job of preparing future politicians for the Democrats. Such a fine young woman, very intelligent and eloquent,” she forced a smile. “I’ll be keeping my eye out on you. If you ever run for office, I’ll have to warn your Republican opponent about you.”

There was a burst of polite laugher from everyone, and then, Secretary Rice looked over to Gordon Brown, and the pair excused themselves. Lord Fellowes stepped towards Paulina, closing the gap between them and making her think that he was going to tell her off for having spoken to the Secretary of State like that, but instead he lifted her glass to her and smiled.

“Well done, Miss Balcázar, well done indeed.”

“You’re not upset?” she asked, at a lost as to why he was being so nice.

“I have to admit I was nervous about how you would handle the situation, but you bore it well, spoke your beliefs in a manner suiting a politician. I am very pleased with how you acted, very pleased indeed. Now come along, there are others we must acquaint you with. I believe you will do exceedingly well with the Labour Party . . .”

“Lord Fellowes?” she called to him, interrupting his sentence. “Sir?” she spoke again.

“Yes?” he asked, annoyed that he’d been interrupted.

“Could you . . . that is to say, it would be a true honor to become well acquainted with the members of the Labour Party, but I was wondering if you would please do me the honor of introducing me to Senator Kennedy.”

“Well, I'm afraid I'm not acquainted with him.” He had intended for that to be the end of that, but when he saw the disappointment in her eyes, he decided that he would do his best to introduce her to the Senator. It would be her reward for having been such an outstanding guest. “Give me leave to get into contact with an old friend, he is acquainted with the Senator, and he will introduce me so that I may then in turn introduce you.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he took off in direction of his friend, leaving her there to her own devices. She knew she should’ve stayed there, made polite conversation with someone nearby as she waited until he came back, but she didn’t want to wait any longer – she couldn’t! Senator Kennedy was in the same room as her. He was one of her political icons, and she wasn’t about to miss out on the opportunity to meet him, because of what custom dictated. He was an American. He’d understand her having taken charge of the situation.

And so she took in a deep breath, pushed her shoulders back and moved towards the sweets table that was positioned across the room. He was standing a few feet away from it, with a woman standing beside him. His features seemed animated, there was a smile on his face, and he seemed healthy, which made Paulina feel relaxed, because in June, he had undergone brain surgery.

“Just walk over there,” she whispered softly to herself. “Just introduce yourself, that’s all you have to do.”

She ran her hand over the fabric of her dress, attempting to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles, and then she glanced over to Senator Kennedy to see if maybe the woman was going to leave, that way she wouldn’t be interrupting an important conversation, but when she looked over at him, her eyes met his. He smiled at her, the kind of smile that made the political fangirl in her go wild. Paulina did her best to not seem too eager as she smiled back, but then he motioned towards her. At first, she didn’t quite think he was referring to her, so she glanced back, thinking that perhaps someone else was there, but when she saw that there was no one directly behind her, she knew was motioning for her. And as calmly as she could, she walked towards him, using her full restraint to not hug him tightly and ramble about how much she loved him, politically.

“You must be the American that told off the Madam Secretary.” Senator Kennedy spoke, smiling in amusement.

“I didn’t tell her off.” Paulina blurted out, speaking in her normal voice. “That is to say, I did it politely.”

“Calm down, child, I'm not going to scold you for it.” He chuckled to himself, the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes becoming more prominent. “My friend here, Harriet, overheard the exchange and knew I’d appreciate it. Have you met the Harriet?” asked Senator Kennedy, speaking as if they were old acquaintances. “She’s the Deputy Leader of the Labor Party. She’s one hell of a politician.”

“No Sir, I haven’t had the honor.”

“Then let me make the introductions. I know this isn’t how our British friends do introductions, but what’s the point of being an American if we don’t get British customs wrong?” He chuckled. “Harriet this is . . . well, I just forgot your name, Harriet knows it, called you by it when she mentioned you. Ah. Don’t tell me her name, Harriet. I'm making the introductions. I’ve remembered. This is Miss Balcázar. Did I say your last name right or did I butcher it? These Massachusetts accents are horrible for pronouncing Hispanic surnames.”

“You said it right, Sir.”

“I'm pleased to hear that. Well, Harriet this is Miss Balcázar, the tenacious American that upset the Secretary of State. Miss Balcázar this is MP Harriet Harman.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.” Paulina smiled politely.

The same treated was given to her by Harriet.

“It seems I forgot to introduce myself. I'm lucky I'm not British or else everyone would be complaining about this.” Senator Kennedy joked.

“And who says I won’t be complaining about this?” asked Harriet, fighting back a smile.

“Because my company’s the only one that doesn’t make you drowsy,” he said very matter-of-factly. “You got me off track. I was going to introduce myself.”

“There’s no need for that, Sir. I'm well aware of who you are, Senator Kennedy.” Paulina smiled nervously. “I'm kind of a political junkie. Okay. Not kind of. I am a massive one, and I'm a big fan of your legislative work. It’s truly inspiring.”

“You’re familiar with my legislative work?”

“I don’t think there’s a progressive Democrat in America that isn’t aware of the contributions the Lion of the Senate has given to not only the party, but the nation.”

That statement opened the door for a lengthy political discussion. They talked about the upcoming election, why it was that they were supporting Obama and why it was that they detested Sarah Palin so ardently. It was a lengthy discussion that only ended when Lord Fellowes and his old friend made themselves known. Lord Fellowes was surprised to see his Scholar in such deep conversation. He’d thought she’d wait for him to do the introductions. That was how it always was, but she had taken the initiative, and though he disliked the fact that she didn’t act according to custom, he knew that the Senator, as an American, would most likely appreciated the initiative.

“You’re doing a fantastic job with Miss Balcázar.” Senator Kennedy complimented Lord Fellowes. “We may have to start sending out all promising Democrats to Oxford so you can work with them.”

“So long as they are as eager, principled, and hard working as Miss Balcázar, I believe we may be of assistance. Though, if I am to speak plainly, I can not guarantee the same results, since one does not often cross paths with a young person of Miss Balcázar’s exceptional abilities and character.” Lord Fellowes declared. “One often meets youths that are intelligent and very much capable of being accomplished, but they think themselves above instruction and dare not heed the advice of those that have long been involved in politics.”

Senator Kennedy nodded in agreement. “They think they know best, and while it is good to be a little hardheaded, it’s even better to have an open mind and to be willing to learn.”

“It is indeed.” Lord Fellowes sipped from his champagne. “Are you to be in town long, Senator Kennedy?”

“Only a few more days,” he said. “I'm here in conjecture with an embassy to give them some posters and pamphlets from Senator Obama’s presidential campaign. It’s important that Americans abroad get their absentee ballots. Are you going to vote, Miss Balcázar?”

“Of course, Sir,” she told him. “I’ve already picked up my FPCA from the embassy, and have filled it out. I just have to wait until late September to receive my absentee ballot and then I’ll make another trip to the embassy to drop it off.”

“You take your civic responsibilities seriously,” commented Senator Kennedy.

“I have to be.” She said. “I would argue that all Americans should take their voting duties seriously. It’s our one chance to impact government, and to not take that opportunity is unpardonable. Especially since so many people don’t vote and then complain about how Congress is doing. That always annoys me, because not voting and complaining about Congress is akin to telling a server at a restaurant that you don’t care what plate they give you so long as it’s edible, and then complaining about your meal. It’s idiotic.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Senator Kennedy said. “I know this may sound strange, but would you consider doing some volunteer work for the Democratic Party at the London embassy?”

She glanced over at Lord Fellowes who was discreetly nodding his head.

“I would love to.” Paulina was actively keeping herself from jumping up and down. “Term doesn’t start until October 13th. I could help until then.”

“Excellent.” He pulled out his wallet and took out two cards. “This is my personal assistant’s contact information. If you have any questions regarding what the message we’re trying to give, just call him and he’ll be glad to explain things to you, also to send any flyers and buttons that you may want to pass out. This card is for Michael, he’s a great friend, works at the American embassy and he’s the one that you’ll be coordinating with for the efforts. Give me a few days, and I’ll . . . you know what? I have a better idea. We’ll do lunch tomorrow. Meet me at the American embassy, and Michael and I will discuss the specifics of your volunteering there. How does that sound?”

“It sounds brilliant.”

“Do you have a card with your contact information?” he asked.

“I do.” Lord Fellowes had printed her a hundred contact cards for her to hand out at the event. “Here you are, Sir.”

Senator Kennedy put his card away. “Meet us there at noon, Miss Balcázar. And now if you’ll excuse me, Lord Fellowes, I have to be going. I'm still in recovery from surgery and can’t stay out past ten.”

Goodbyes were quickly uttered and as soon as he was gone, Lord Fellowes clapped his hands together.

“Very well done, Miss Balcázar!” he exclaimed. “Not only have you charmed several members of the Labour Party, but you have put the groundwork with your party back in America. I daresay this went very well, very well indeed. Oh! Baron Waldegrave and Baron Brockwell will be envious. Callum has been charming enough, I daresay, but apparently, he flirted with Sally Bercow, wife of MP John Bercow. Now the lad can’t be blamed for flirting. Sally is a terrible flirt, everyone knows that, but John sees his wife through rose colored glasses, even though she’s had her fair share of lovers, but I digress, apparently Bercow took offense and confronted Baron Waldegrave about it. Waldegrave was humiliated, as is only right, and now Callum, has been forced to sit for the rest of the festivities. But that’s nothing compared to what Gustav did.”

“What did Gustav do?” she asked.

“Well, he rolled his eyes at David Cameron. Now, I'm fairly certain that Cameron deserved it. I have never personally been very fond of that man, but anyone that knows anything, knows that Cameron is going places in Parliament.” He took a drink of his champagne. “Baron Brockwell was so furious at Gustav that he made them both leave.”

“Isn’t that a bit drastic?”

“No, I don’t think it is. Baron Brockwell wanted to show he was sorry, and that Gustav no longer deserved the honor of being among superior company, so the only way he could get those points across was to leave. Don’t worry though; we won’t be leaving anytime soon. There’s still much to do.”

“Sir, I don’t wish to seem disrespectful, but I was wondering if I might dance. I know it might seem silly of me, but I'm in this gorgeous gown and feel as though I’ve done my part. Might I indulge in the festivities now?” she asked politely.

Lord Fellowes sighed. “While I was hoping to introduce you to a few others in the Labour Party, I do think you’re right about having done your part for the evening. Feel free to enjoy in the dancing, but remember to continue being as graceful and respectable as you have been all night.”

“I will,” she reassured. “Thank you, Sir.”

There was only one place that she wanted to be, so as respectably as she could, she walked towards the table where a brooding Callum was sitting beside a displeased Baron Waldegrave. Paulina wanted to hear exactly what had happened between Callum and that Sally woman, so she did the only thing she could, she asked him to dance.

“Baron Waldegrave?” she called to the older man.

“Yes? Miss Balcázar?” He turned to look at her.

“I was wondering if you might be so kind as to allow Callum to have a turn about the dance floor with me?” asked Paulina. “I’ve not yet had the opportunity to dance, and Callum moves so gracefully that I long to dance with him.”

Baron Waldegrave looked over at Callum with a scrutinizing gaze. “Hmm, I suppose so long as he is at your side it will be alright.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Paulina curtsied out of respect, and then held out her hand for Callum to take.

“Bloody hell, you’ve no idea how grateful I am for that.” Callum told her as they walked onto the dance area. “He’s had me sitting there for the last hour. Can you believe that?”

“Well it’s your own fault for not being able to control your hormones,” she teased, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. “Honestly Callum, this is the one event where your dick had no business.”

“Well I told him to behave, but the problem is that when someone’s running her hand up my thigh, it won’t very well listen to me.”

“You’re awful.” She laughed. “Was she really feeling you up like that?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “It’s not like I went out of my way to flirt. Ya know? I was being polite, but then . . . well, I don’t know, I guess she got tired of being with some old wrinkly bloke and liked what she saw, so she started going about my thigh, and I started flirting. No need to get into specifics, you know the rest.”

“I don’t.” She stopped talking as he twirled her. “Lord Fellowes only said you got caught flirting and got in trouble, he didn’t say how you got caught.”

Callum’s cheeks grew rosy.

“What did you do?” she nearly screamed.

“So . . . it wasn’t even that bad, I’ve done loads worse.” He muttered. “Look, she put her hand on the table and I started running my fingers along her palm, and then I may have whispered a few things that made her blush and just as she was blushing, her husband came about, saw how close we were, didn’t like it. Asked me to please stand, I did, not realizing I had a semi, and . . . don’t laugh! It’s not funny!”

She bit down on her lip, forcing herself to stop laughing. “Did he notice it?” she asked once she’d reigned in her laughter.

“Well of course he noticed it! That’s why he went over to Waldegrave. He even dragged me along with him, thankfully it went down quickly, but it was so embarrassing. I'm being stared at by these influential people and I’ve got a hard on. Bloody nightmare,” he shook his head.

“Think of it this way, at least you’re not Gustav.”

“What happened with him?”

“He rolled his eyes at someone, and got taken out.”

“You’re joking.”

“Wish I was, but apparently Brockwell was furious.”

“That’s mental.” He said before twirling her.

“I know,” she said when they regained their former position. “But you know how they are.”

“So did you make a mess of things as well?” he asked.

“Just because you boys don’t know how to behave, doesn’t mean I don’t.” Paulina smirked. “I happen to have made quite the impression on some of the members of the Labor Party, and I even met Senator Kennedy from America. He offered me a volunteer position, which was brilliant and I had to stop myself from acting like a total fangirl, but it was rad.” The blank look on his face made it clear that he didn’t know who she was talking about. “Oh. That’s right. You don’t know who he is. Let’s just say that he’s American political royalty. His family is . . . well, they’re the Democratic elite, they make or break people.”

“That’s a lot of power for a family.”

“It’s like that all over the world. There’s always a family that has a lot of influence.”

“That a dig at me?” he asked.

“Just a little one,” she smiled. “So how much longer do you want to dance? I know you’re not a massive fan of dancing.”

“It’s either this or sitting next to Waldegrave.” He told her. “So I’ll take the bloody –”

“Excuse me?” spoke a voice from behind Paulina.

Callum immediately stopped dancing.

“Your Royal Highness,” he said before he even thought to tell Paulina that royalty was upon them.

Paulina turned around to see who was there. And just a short distance away was Prince William. She quickly curtsied and greeted him as according to custom.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Balcázar.” Prince William declared.

“The pleasure’s entirely my own, Sir.” She smiled. “This is my friend, Callum Key. He’s also a Rhodes Scholar.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Key.”

Callum, yet again, bowed.

“I was taking a turn about the room,” Prince William began to speak, “When I noticed you dancing. I thought it would be rather enjoyable to share a dance with a familiar face. That is if you would indulge me and Mr. Key would consent to my stealing away his partner.”

“That’s fine by me, Sir.” Callum reassured. “Excuse me.” He bowed and then walked away.

“Would it be alright with you, Miss?” asked William, though he already knew that it would be alright.

“Yes, of course Sir. It would be a true honor.” Paulina stepped towards him and nervously placed a hand on his shoulder and her other in his.

William began to lead them in the dance. “I wished to speak with you earlier, but you were quite indisposed.”

“Yes, Lord Fellowes had me making the rounds. He was introducing me to his acquaintances and friends.”

“That sounds awfully tedious. To have to do work when there is dancing to be had is always a challenge.”

“It is indeed, Sir.”

“Come now, Paulina. I think that our relation with Harry warrants us being on friendlier terms. Speak to me as if you were speaking to him.”

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“And why ever not?” he asked.

“Because I call him a wanker fairly regularly,” she informed him.

William’s eyes widened in shock and a strange chortle passed through his lips. “Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.” He composed himself. “A wanker,” he muttered to himself. “I call him that as well, though I think he may quite enjoy it when you call him that.”

“He protests, but he always ends up laughing over it.” She said. “Is it alright for us to talk like this? Everyone’s looking at us and I can’t help but think they might eavesdrop.”

“No ones close enough to hear what we’re saying.” He reassured her. “Look around, they’ve left an area to us, that way no one bumps into me and upsets me.”

“Would you truly get upset if someone were to bump into you?” she questioned.

“No, I wouldn’t, but everyone seems to think I would.” He smiled and then decided to mention when his brother would arrive. “He should be arriving any moment now, sent me a text a little while ago saying that he was on his way, and asking if you were still here. Ah. Speak of the ginger and the ginger shall arrive.”

“He’s here?” she asked, trying to keep the smile from engulfing her entire face.

William nodded. “He’s just walked in, everyone’s bowing and curtsying. Give him a few minutes and when he makes his way over to Lady Fellowes, we’ll join him.”

A great deal of time passed before Harry finished the necessary introductions, and was at liberty to make his way over to the table where his aunt and uncle were seated. William kept an eye out for Harry, and when he saw his brother reach the agreed rendezvous point, he led Paulina off the dance floor and towards the table.

“About time you arrived, Harry.” William spoke, taking his brother into an embrace. “I was just telling Miss Balcázar that I was afraid you weren’t going to keep your promise.”

“I'm a man of my word, Wills. I promised Miss Balcázar a dance, and here I am. Black eye and all,” Harry grinned, sporting the bruised eyes and cheek that he’d sustained after a polo incident. “Tell me, Miss Balcázar, do you still believe these bruises represent a charitable heart?”

“I do indeed, Sir. Though I must confess that your particular bruises are not only representative of a charitable heart, but of mishaps in polo. I hope you are well.” Paulina spoke genuinely concerned for his well being.

“Well enough,” he reassured. “I believe that after so many years of being a polo enthusiast, I’ve somewhat grown accustomed to its injuries. I'm quite sure my brother would agree with me.”

“They aren’t as painful as they were when we first mounted, but they still have a way of hurting.” William smiled. “Do you by chance play polo, Mr. Keys?” asked William politely when he saw Callum sitting beside Baron Waldegrave.

“No, Sir. My passion lays in rugby. In fact, I play with Miss Balcázar.” Callum declared, glancing from Paulina to Harry with a hard look in his eyes.

The look wasn’t noticed by either Harry or Paulina; they were far too busy trying to stop stupid grins from conquering their faces.

“You play rugby, Miss Balcázar?” asked Lady Fellowes.

“Yes, Ma’am,” responded Paulina. “Some of the other Scholars in my year have made a team of our own, so whenever there’s a chance, we play.”

“And is it full contact?” Lady Fellowes further questioned.

“It is indeed,” replied Paulina.

“How dreadful!” she exclaimed. “Are you not afraid?”

“If I may be allowed to speak on Miss Balcázar’s behalf, I think it is more prudent to be afraid of her when on the pitch. She has quite the tackle.” Callum spoke as he refilled his champagne.

“I take it mishaps happen during the matches.” Lady Fellowes said.

“Mishaps have a way of happening everywhere, aunt.” Harry commented. “Though I am quite sure that no mishaps will happen on the dance floor,” he said. “If you will, Miss Balcázar, I would like to have our promised dance at once or else I fear exhaustion might get the best of me.”

“As you wish, Sir,” she replied and then excused herself from everyone at the table.

Harry also excused himself and then led her towards the center of the dance floor, and just like they had with William, the dancers cleared a space just for them.

“Are you sure that you’re alright? Those bruises seem rather nasty.” Paulina said as they began to move in time with the orchestra.

“I'm fine, really. Better now that we’re here.”

“Very smooth,” she complimented, smiling softly. “I thought you may have been too tired to come.”

“I told you that I’d be here. And in all honesty, I’d be a fool to have missed an opportunity to see you in that dress.”

She giggled and shook her head in disbelief.

“It’s not my fault you look absolutely ravishing.” He moved his lips as close to her ear as propriety would allow. “If we weren’t surrounded by people, I’d take you on a table.” The burning passion in his eyes made if perfectly clear that he spoke in earnest.

“Don’t talk like that.” Paulina’s cheeks flushed with color. “One can not speak like that in public.”

“No one is close enough to eavesdrop,” he said, twirling her and then pulling her back into him. “And I can see in your eyes that you’d be quite keen on that.”

“You look so pleased with yourself.”

“I’ve reason to be. I’ve made your cheeks rosy.” He smirked. “You know, I’ve never understand why this sort of dancing has always been called passionate. It always seemed dull to be, dull and traditional, but now I understand why.”

“And why is it passionate?”

“Because it’s the only respectable physical contact that people in society can have out in public, and there’s something very sensual about hands being pressed against each other and the warmth of ones body radiating onto another, when propriety demands physical separation. It’s like in that film . . .”

“Pride and Prejudice,” she said knowingly. They’d recently watched it. “You remember the fire in their eyes, the aching in him.”

“Don’t speak of aching,” he warned. “I’ve been deprived of you an entire week. And seeing you in that dress is making it incredibly difficult to not fling you over my shoulder and run off somewhere.”

“You’re a caveman.”

“And I should have my mate.”

Unable to look him in the eyes any further, she turned away her face and laughed. Laughing was all she could do to stop herself from flinging her body at him and snogging him right then and there.

“There’s a supply cupboard not far from here.” He whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been in this building fairly regularly in my life. Used to run off when I was younger to hide so I wouldn’t have to be fussed over.” He explained. “And if you so desire, we could pay a visit to said supply cupboard.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She said, facing him. “What if someone were to see?”

“No one would see.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Because I’ll go first, and ten minutes later, you’ll go.”

“Harry . . .”

“It’s not far. We wouldn’t even try to get a shag in, just a bit of snogging.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble. I’ve had a very good night.”

“Well why not make it even better? Come on, love. Please?” He was using his sweet voice, the gentle one that always had a way of making her cave.

She looked away, pursing her lips and trying to stay strong, but her resolve to stay away from the cupboard gradually weakened. And she was forced to look his way with a smile that made it perfectly clear that she was up for it.

“How do I get there?” she asked.

A massive grin broke across his gingery face, and it took all he had to not kiss her in the middle of the dance floor. In a hushed voice, he gave her the instructions of how to get there. He told them to her twice for good measure. And after having parted ways after dancing, he went off to speak to someone in the Labour Party to keep up appearances, and she returned to the table to sit beside Callum. Callum wasn’t speaking much to her. She tried to do a bit of light teasing, but he was brooding. Perhaps he wanted to go home, instead of being forced to sit at a table and listen to Baron Waldegrave go on and on about the evenings events.

Since Callum wasn’t talking, she made conversation with Lady Fellowes, and when the appropriate amount of time had passed, Paulina excused herself by saying that she had to make a trip to the ladies room. They smiled and gave Paulina leave, and she walked away briskly, completely unaware of the fact that Callum’s eyes were firmly fixed on her.

It wasn’t long before she left behind the crowded ballroom, and was maneuvering her way towards the cupboard. There were a few people lingering in the corridors, some were shamelessly flirting, others were talking in low voices, most likely discussing politics, and as she moved through the corridors, she couldn’t help but think that someone would find out about her and Harry, that that was to be the night when the world was to learn of her ties to him. That thought terrified her, it nearly made her turn around and walk back to the table, but just as she was contemplating what to do, a nearby door opened and a large hand tugged her into a cramp cupboard.

Her hands instinctively balled into fist, she was about to defend herself via punching, but thankfully for Harry, the light was turned on in the cupboard, and before she had a chance to strike, her eyes had taken in who he was.

“You asshole!” she hissed. “You can’t just grab people like that. What if I’d punched you? Did you even think about that?”

“Of course I thought about that.” He said. “But I reckon you’d see who I was, and not punch me. It worked out like that, after all.”

She shot him a glare.

“Awe,” he cooed. “Come on, love. Are we really gonna waste time fighting when we’ve got a cupboard all to ourselves?”

“You’re such an ass.” The glare vanished, a playful smile made its way onto her face. “If I would’ve punched you, you would’ve walked out with a bloody nose and my dress would’ve had blood on it.”

“But you didn’t punch me.” He reminded, placing his hands on her hips so he could pull her towards him. “I'm perfectly fine. You’re perfectly fine. We’re all perfectly fine.”

“And we only have like ten minutes before I have to get back to the table.”

“Ten minutes? Why?”

“Because I told them I was going to use the restroom.”

“I'm quite certain that you could’ve been caught up in a conversation on your way back from the restroom. That’s another five minutes, if not more.”

“Stop talking already!” she ordered.

And before he could say anything, she pounded on him. Their lips met in a heated kiss, her arms snaked around his neck, and he was in such shock that he stumbled backwards, pinning himself against the large storage unit. Had he not been snogging, he would’ve complained that the shelves were digging into his back, but seeing as how his girlfriend was clinging to him for dear life, and how her exposed left leg was hitched over his waist, he didn’t even realize the discomfort.

Instead his right hand ran up her leg, relishing in the feel of her freshly shaven flesh, until settling on her bum. His hand went underneath the fabric of her dress, he expected to slip his hand beneath her panties, but was surprised when he found sturdier fabric.

“What are your knickers made out of?” he asked, pulling away from the kiss.

“They’re not panties. They’re SPANX.” She said, her cheeks flushing further. “Your aunt said it’d be good to keep everything packed in and . . . Why are we even talking about this? It’s not like we were gonna bang or anything.” She noticed the pout on Harry’s lips. “I'm not gonna have sex with you right now. We’ve got to go back out there, Henry. So snogging is all you’re gonna get.”

“Can I at least have a look at your knickers? I’ve got to see them for myself.”

“Well, I don’t want you to see them. They’re worse than old lady panties.”

“That only makes me want to see them even more. Come on, let’s have a look. Yeah?” he smiled, expectantly.

“You’re so annoying.” She scrunched her nose at him, but lifted the front of her dress so he could see the SPANX that his aunt had insisted she wear.

“Now these mean business.” He said, smirking devilishly as he ran a finger along the fabric.

“Nice try, but we’re not banging.” She put down her dress. “Now stop pouting and kiss me already.”

He didn’t stop pouting immediately. A part of him thought that if he pouted long enough she’d change her mind, but that didn’t end up being true. She was firm in her resolve to not have sex in a cramp cupboard, and Harry eventually settled for the snogging. But even that didn’t last as long as he would’ve liked. Paulina thought she was mindful of the time, not wanting to be gone for too long, so after what she thought was five minutes of heated snogging, she pulled apart and told him to compose himself so he could walk out first.

“Just a little longer, yeah?” he asked, staring at her with hope filled eyes.

“No.” Paulina buttoned up his shirt. “I’ve already been gone to long, and I don’t want to worry them. Now let me fix this tie.” Her hands skillfully fixed his bow tie. “Perfect, now get out of here.”

“Ya won’t be saying that next week when we’re at your flat.” He smirked. “You’re going to be asking me never to leave, and I'm going to say, ‘No, I have to get out of here.’”

“As if you’d ever say that,” she smiled. “Now go, I have to wait ten minutes and the sooner you leave, the quicker I can get back to the table.”

“Oh, alright,” he muttered. “I’ll see you out there.” He quickly pecked her lips and then went outside.

Paulina took out her phone from inside her clutch, wanting to check the time. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw that it’d been a half hour since she’d excused herself from the table. Bloody hell, she could already imagine the telling off Lord Fellowes was surely going to give her. Maybe she could tell him that she’d got caught up in a conversation. No. That wouldn’t do. He’d want to know who she was talking to, and knowing how nosy he is, he’d probably check with the person to know if it was true. She was just going to have to tell him that her mom had called. There was no way he’d be able to stay mad if he thought there’d been a family emergency. Yes. That would have to do.

While she was in there, she fixed her make up, reapplied her lipstick, and pinned back a few strands of hair that had broken free during their make out session. After ten minutes passed, she took in a deep breath and opened the door just enough for her to check if there was anyone around. Thankfully for her, the corridor was clear, allowing her to step out without receiving any questioning looks. She moved through the corridors in silence, her cheeks rosy and skin glowing from all the snogging. She hoped Lord and Lady Fellowes wouldn’t think much of her appearance, that they’d think it was due to her having walked around, and luckily for her, that was indeed what they thought.

When they saw her coming towards the table with her cheeks as rosy as they were, they immediately thought that she’d gotten lost. And after Lady Fellowes inquired with concern as to whether she’d had trouble getting around, Paulina decided that that was the lie she was going to go with. So she talked about how she’d taken a right and how that right turn led to a few other poor navigational decisions. They fussed over her for a few minutes, but eventually tired and resumed their own conversations.

“You got lost then?” asked Callum in a low voice.

Paulina nodded.

“Prince Harry got lost as well.” He set down his glass of champagne. “Barely showed up a few minutes ago,” he commented.

“I'm sure he was busy conversing with politicians somewhere.”

“I don’t think he was. I personally think that he was with someone that forgave him for being a massive twat.” He shot her a look that made it perfectly clear that he knew.

Her blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” The alcohol had loosened his lips. “Must say I never would’ve realized it before, but seeing you two . . . seeing you looking at him like that, and hearing his voice made me, realize who he was.”

“Callum, please just be quiet, please,” she implored, desperately wanting him to shut up.

“He accuses you of cheating, belittles you and there you were, grinning like nothing had ever happened.” He rambled on, completely ignoring her words.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re dating Harry. Oh . . . sorry, it’s Henry. That’s the name you call him by, isn’t it?”