Weeks passed. Niamh essentially moved into my chambers, sleeping in my bed—our bed—every night. I attended a handful of engagements, while Niamh continued with her lessons and joined me at a few of the engagements as necessary. She much preferred to stay out of the spotlight, and as the public seemed not quite as fascinated with her as they’d been earlier in the summer, I didn’t try to change her mind.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Our relationship was progressing; the threats of scandal that had plagued us seemed to have disappeared.
I became complacent. I became naive.
Because when you lived your entire life in the public eye, you might have a break from the spotlight. It always ends, however. The claws of gossip, of speculation, inevitably disrupted the peace—eventually.
A
