The Princess Affair Read Online Free Page A

and Kieran debating which of our group is most likely to become president.”
    He immediately warmed to the topic. “Good one. Don’t tell me. I want to guess…”
     
    *
     
    Two hours later, the bus pulled in front of the Rhodes House, an impressive colonial structure that had been built in the early twentieth century in memory of Cecil Rhodes. Kerry took in the sight eagerly: the portico’s tall Ionic columns, the rotunda topped by a copper dome, the slate roof peeking up behind several wide parapets. As they entered the building, she looked around eagerly. The rotunda was bedecked by royal blue banners emblazoned with the university’s motto: Dominus Illuminatio Mea .
    “Can you read Latin?” Harris had evidently noticed the direction of her gaze. “What does it mean?”
    “God is my light.”
    “Are you still a believer?”
    Kerry crossed her arms beneath her breasts in a protective gesture as automatic as it was unnecessary. Harris’s eyes held no hint of judgment, only curiosity. She didn’t have to put up shields against him. He was on her side.
    “My head is agnostic. But my heart…” She gave him a half-smile and shrugged. These days, that was all the answer she could offer. “You?”
    Before he could reply, the group was called together by a lean, dark-haired man wearing a crisp white collared shirt and gray slacks. His tie was several shades darker than the blue of the banners, and a pair of round glasses drew attention to the freckles that liberally sprinkled his nose. He introduced himself as Brent, their primary liaison with the Rhodes Trust.
    Anna stood on her toes and leaned into Kerry’s space, hands fluttering. “He looks like Harry Potter!”
    Harris gave her an incredulous look. “He’s much more attractive than Harry Potter.”
    Apparently, that was a heretical thing to say, because she huffed off to report her epiphany to a more receptive audience. Kerry shot Harris a bemused glance before falling in behind Brent for a tour of the House. As he led them past the large hall where Einstein had once delivered a lecture series, the extensive library dedicated to Commonwealth and African Studies, and the spacious dining room, he answered questions about the facility and explained their privileges. Kerry could hardly wait to take advantage of them and make this incredible space her own.
    The tour concluded in one of the reading rooms. A middle-aged woman dressed in a dark gray wool suit, her hair pulled back severely into a bun, awaited them behind the podium. Brent joined her as the remainder of the group filtered inside.
    “I’m very pleased to introduce you all to Mary Spencer, Secretary of the Rhodes Trust,” he said before stepping aside.
    “Good afternoon, and welcome to Oxford University.” Speaking in a rather nasal tone, Spencer over-enunciated each syllable. “On behalf of the Trust, we are delighted to welcome you, the newest class of scholars. For the past several months you have celebrated your success, but now it is time to rise to the challenges that await you. You are all not only representatives of the Trust, but of the United States of America. As you embark upon your studies, remember to acquit yourselves in a manner becoming your status.”
    “Cheery, isn’t she?” Harris muttered as she paused to look around the room, and Kerry struggled to keep a straight face as Spencer’s gaze swept over them.
    “Good luck and God speed,” she concluded, relinquishing the podium once again to Brent. Within minutes, he explained, they would be joined by Rhodes scholars in their second or third years who had agreed to mentor the incoming class. Free of Spencer’s iron grip on the crowd, Kerry barely registered his words; she was enjoying the atmosphere of the room, which boasted several clusters of high-backed leather chairs between walls lined with bookshelves.
    A table nearby held several platters of sandwiches and pitchers of iced tea. As they mingled and ate, Brent made