Royal Love
Or doing it for her.
Well, she would be putting her foot down rather quickly if that was the case. She wanted to be a mother in all aspects, including the late nights and the poop. Her child—their child—would have hands-on parents.
Angus stopped in the doorway, the sight before him nearly taking his breath away. Siobhan and Claudia were only a few feet before them, surrounded by children, but it was only Siobhan he had eyes for. She was holding a baby and looking so natural doing so, the tender smile on her face something he had not seen before. She was gorgeous, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her.
In a few short months, she would be doing that with their own child, the thought both scaring him shitless, and bringing a joy to his heart he hadn’t anticipated ever feeling again. What was she thinking about right at this moment? Was she thinking about their own child in her arms?
She turned and he caught her eye, seeing the blush on her cheeks, the glow that seemed to surround her lately. He wanted nothing more than to walk over and kiss her, to lose himself in her once more. When had she consumed him so much?
Something shifted inside him. Something fast and unexpected. And something inevitable, he realized. Seeing her smiling up at him, a child’s head on her shoulder, sunlight pouring over her skin.
How could he have known he’d been waiting, almost his entire life, for a moment like this? And his future seemed as bright as the day with Siobhan and their child—children—in it.
Siobhan walked along the river’s edge, the sparkling water begging for her to take a quick dip. If she were by herself, she would be tempted to do just that—even in the cold weather—but the sight of her stripping down to her underwear might give Angus, who was walking with Mircea and Javert a step behind her, a heart attack.
She had seen the way he had looked at her when she had been holding Claudia’s little one, that hunger in his eyes he had tried hard to mask when others were around, but failed every single time. It wasn’t just sexual in nature, it was like, well, longing. What had he been thinking seeing her hold that child?
Heaving a sigh, she shook off the thought. Truly, Angus was being a little bit better these days with his mood and his communication skills, and she suspected it had something to do with the time they spent down here on the riverbank. It was going to be a day she would never forget.
Siobhan looked up and realized she had reached the bridge, a good hike from the Romani camp itself.
Looking back, she saw that Angus had distanced himself from the two other men, and was in a heated conversation with whoever was on the other side of his mobile, his voice carrying over the water as he gave someone an earful, his usually impassive face red.
A piece of her really wanted for him to pay some attention to her. He had been gracious and very well within shouting distance in case she needed something. What would he do if Siobhan suddenly took off running instead of stripping down to her skivvies?
Not that she could run, of course. Even with the additions to her diet and the daily walks, she still felt dizzy and weak, like the baby was draining her own life out of her. Do pregnant women normally feel this way? Because all that’s advertised is hearts and flowers.
There were days she felt as if there was an alien living inside of her, threatening to split her open like those movies on the tube. Then, there were other days, where she thought about the fuzzy-headed child she would bring into this world in a few short months, one she could dote on and love. Unconditional love was what they called it.
That was what she wanted with Angus. Unconditional love; to surrender to another person freely and without fear, trust they were going to make the future the best it could be. Would she ever have that with the king? That was the double-edged sword, the pit of uncertainty. Siobhan knew she could love him, easily in fact, if she didn’t already to some degree.
But he had made it quite clear he might not be able to do the same.
The ground changed under her feet and Siobhan looked up, realizing she had walked onto the bridge. How ironic he was building a bridge but she couldn’t build one to his heart.
A great deal of work had been completed and since it was nearing lunchtime, there were no workers about as she carefully stepped onto the structure, the wooden planks wobbling under her feet. She should really turn back, but the fascination of the intricate detailing on the bridge caught her eye. It wasn’t on the adjoining cross post, just on the first one, she leaned closer and could make out a tiny dragon etched in the wood, the flames coming out of his mouth so realistic that Siobhan shuddered inwardly. She would have to ask Angus what the significance was of the dragon being on the bridge. Perhaps it was a good luck symbol for his country as well.
A sharp gust of wind whipped the front of Siobhan’s half-cape apart. The button of a frog fastening slipped free of a braided silk loop. Gripping the edges of the cape, Siobhan turned her back to the wind and fumbled with the loop as a woman, clutching a large bag, brushed by her.
Siobhan was bumped sideways.
She felt the railing bite into her side, and for a moment, Siobhan could feel herself tip off balance, her hands blindly grasping out to catch anything she could find as she let out a sharp cry.
But she found nothing.
28
When Angus noticed that Siobhan was on the bridge, he panicked. It wasn’t ready for traffic—not even pedestrian traffic.
“I have to go,” he was already running in Siobhan’s direction, and then he saw her falling and he ran the last few yards as hard and fast as he could.
How to save her from falling without sending us both over the edge? If he could reach her in time, he still had a problem. Instinct took over. He had no awareness of planning it as he aimed for a vertical steel brace while reaching out for her at the same time. He felt his hand grasp hers, but did not notice any pain as the brace brought him to a dead stop.
She cried out as he pulled her against him roughly, his heart pounding in his ears. She was fine. She was in his arms, yet he felt as if he had just experienced his first heart attack.
The sweetness of her curves registered, and he gathered her in his arms. She was delicate, like an exquisite piece of china in need of protection. He didn’t think he’d ever held anything so fine. Careful, so careful, he wrapped his arms around her and held her against him, using his body as a shield against the world.
“Is she alright? Do we need to summon a physician?”
Angus ignored Mircea’s and Javert’s frantic questions behind them as he pulled back to look in Siobhan’s eyes, his hands refusing to budge from her body just yet. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head but he could see the stark terror in her eyes. “I…no, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” he asked again, feeling the blood return to his own body. If she had fallen into that river, there would have been a good chance she would have been swept too far downstream before anyone had a chance to reach her. Her body would have smashed against the rocks violently. A cold sweat broke out over his body and Angus picked her up in his arms, needing to feel her close to him.
Pain flashed in his eyes and his lips tightened. She was already too close to him. And when people got close, they ended up dead. Every time he cared for someone they wound up dead. His father, Lilian, Innes. He didn’t want to lose Siobhan. He didn’t—couldn’t—lose another loved one. If he fell too much further he would never recover. He couldn’t lose her.
“Angus, I’m fine, I can walk,” she insisted as the small crowd that had formed, now parted for him to move through. “You’re embarrassing me!”
“What happened?” he asked instead, his voice still not as steady as he would like.
“I-I lost my balance,” she answered, her arm wrapping around his neck. “Please, put me down.”
He shook his head, the pounding in his ears starting to lessen somewhat. “Are you certain? Perhaps you shouldn’t walk so far without assistance.”
She sighed
loudly. “Are you serious? I’m fine—better than I was before you came into my life.”
The corner of his mouth lifted and he looked at her, the rest of the terror leaving his body. She was fine. She was going to be fine. “I’m having the physician summoned as soon as we get back, Siobhan. I want you checked out.”
The frustration on her face was evident and Angus kept walking, wondering if she could feel the tremble in his hands under her body.
They failed to notice the woman on the other side of the bridge with an angry scowl on her face.
The woman couldn’t believe her bad luck—or was it the younger woman’s providence that had gotten in the way?
What irony, she hissed, mentally. She had failed to knock the King’s bride off the bridge, but only because the stupid woman was in the act of falling off by herself.
That wasn’t her agenda. She wanted to see the dragon humiliated, on his knees.
When a sudden cold clamminess broke out on her neck and back, dampening her shirt under her armpits, she reached into her skirt pocket. She’d anticipated that and had had her medicine prepared differently: in chewing gums, easily carried around and taken when necessary.
She popped one in her mouth. The taste was like almonds that were slightly off.
She chewed it, relishing it, and her heartbeat slowed to a ponderous rhythm, though she felt more excitement than she could remember. She hoped that with this dosage there would be no hallucinations.
Ah, and there went the mighty king, carrying his fiancée to the car, walking as if from a trance as Siobhan gestured and fumed at whatever he was saying to her.
Stubborn Siobhan wasn’t one to be led blindly, and she was no doubt demanding answers, ones that Angus clearly wasn’t providing.
She compared Angus to a bear chasing a butterfly.
The corners of her lips tilted up.
No, Angus was better than that—he was like a dragon with a rabbit twitching her tail in front of him.
Sooner or later, the dragon would attack.
She chortled thinking that it would be a great humiliation if the rabbit escaped him.
When Angus shut the car door, he stood for just a second, exhaling deeply, as if getting his bearings, running a shaking hand over his face, no doubt disbelieving he’d wed such an empty-headed woman.
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” she softly assured him. “It shan’t be for long.”
Braxton-Lenox Mountain House
5:00 p.m.
Angus had made good on his threat, and the doctor was there to examine her as soon as they arrived at his country house since he had ordered the helicopter to fly Dr. Singh—immediately—to his house.
She had merely slipped. She was fine, as she had assured him, and now the doctor could confirm it. As if she wasn’t able to be an authority on her own condition. He was the one who ran himself into a bridge and didn’t even know how badly he was hurt.
“Everything looks good, Siobhan.”
Siobhan looked over at Angus, who was holding his arm while watching Dr. Singh’s every move. “Thank you, doctor. I feel better than I have in quite some time.”
“Continue your walks but do not overdo it and make sure to keep away from bridges under construction.” Dr. Singh stepped back, peeling off his gloves as he did so. “Now, Your Majesty, if you please?”
Less than fifteen minutes after Angus had started the car, the throbbing in his shoulder and arm started, and by the time he was near his country house, he was sweating in pain. He had barely been able to drive the rest of the way.
“You should be in bed,” he said brusquely to Siobhan as she cut his shirt open for the doctor to examine him. “Not taking care of a big brute like me.”
One side of his chest and shoulder were already turning purple from where he had smashed himself against the post. “And you should not be traipsing around your country saving women from falling off bridges.”
She stepped back to allow Dr. Singh to examine Angus.
“First, I don’t traipse, and second—Devil take you, that hurts!” he shouted at the doctor.
“Of course, it does. I’ve yet to see a case of flesh beating steel. It’s always the reverse,” said Dr. Singh.
Siobhan regarded him sympathetically, knowing how he hated not being in control. Angus was always well-dressed and in command of himself. His very name connotated success, and power. None of that was consistent with finding himself on the bed, battered, bruised, forcibly divested of his clothing and with a doctor probing his hurting flesh.
In pain, he closed his eyes with a grunt.
“And second?” she prompted gently, bringing him back to his unfinished thought.
“You’re not women,” he said gruffly, his eyes still closed, as the doctor probed his shoulder and arm. “You’re my future wife.”
Siobhan’s heart twisted with painful sweetness. She wanted badly to comfort and cradle him. Instead she had to settle for kneeling beside him on the bed and stroking his chestnut hair very lightly. He pushed his head against the caress, like an affectionate wolf. Her palm moved along the side of his face to the firm, perfect line of his jaw.
“It seems okay,” Dr. Singh said, examining his other shoulder. “It’s not been dislocated but the tendon is strained. I want you to do a MRI tomorrow and be careful to make sure it heals properly. Ms. Faulkner, if you keep petting him like that, I’m sure he’ll recover in no time.”
Siobhan withdrew her hand sheepishly and Angus gave Dr. Singh a baleful glance.
Romani Village
9:00 p.m.
“I’m going to bed. We’ve lots of work to do if we want to convince the people of Lektenstaten I am the right person to lead them for the next four years,” said Mircea. “Even though Angus is on our side, we can’t count on him to support us, and the people might see him not choosing me for Prime Minister not as an impartial choice, but as a rejection of our cause.”
“That might be so, but I am willing to bet he will help us if we need,” Javert replied, draining his wine and pushing back his chair to accompany Mircea and Claudia to the door. “That was quite a feat Angus performed today saving Siobhan. I thought he wouldn’t reach her in time.”
Claudia went to stand with her husband. “Our king is showing his true colors, maybe with Siobhan—”
“You are all too trusty,” scoffed Diamanta.
Mircea refrained from contradicting her, he knew Diamanta had her reasons for not trusting the Braxton-Lenox males. “I am just giving him the benefit of the doubt. See you tomorrow, Javert.”
Before Claudia could exit the house, Diamanta grabbed her arm. “Please, a moment, Claudia.”
“Of course,” she answered, giving her husband a look of what was to come when she returned. “Keep the bed warm, my darling.”
His heated gaze was all that she needed as an answer.
“I’ll retire, Mother. I have no need for women talk.” Javert dutifully kissed Diamanta’s cheek before exiting the room, leaving the two women alone.
“What is it that you wish to discuss?” Claudia asked the older woman when they were seated again.
Diamanta sighed, her fingers tracing the crystal on her glass. “The woman Angus brought. What do you know of her?”
“Not a great deal.” Claudia shrugged. “He seems infatuated with her though. She was very sweet and quiet, far unlike Innes was. Perhaps that was never a good match for him to begin with.”
“I would venture to say she holds something over him,” Diamanta said darkly. “Far more than his heart.”
Claudia laughed, taking a sip of her leftover wine before continuing. “Are you saying she has bewitched him?”
Diamanta pursed her lips. There were all sorts of bewitching from affairs of the heart to the sins of the flesh. She imagined young Siobhan had both over Angus.
“No more than I have done to Mircea, no doubt,” Claudia continued, her eyes warm from the amount of wine she had consumed. “I am happy that Angus has f
ound someone that makes him happy, and I like her.”
“She had strange lines on her palms…” Diamanta’s gaze unfocused for a moment before she placed her hands on the table and stood up, her smile returning. “I hold you from your bed and your husband. Go on.”
“Good night, Diamanta,” Claudia said, as she stood and walked out of the room. Diamanta stayed behind, watching the fire as it danced merrily in the fireplace. Young Siobhan had her puzzled, appearing to be nothing but a generous soul who was infatuated with the king of Lektenstaten. There was love between them, even if they could not see it themselves.
She didn’t know what to do about that, or how it would play into the rising political discord with putting Mircea on top as the Prime Minister.
Which would happen in her lifetime.
Braxton-Lenox Mountain House
9:30 p.m.
“I have something to tell you.”
She looked at him, seeing a sparkle in his eye. “What?”
He gave her a smile, squeezing her hand with his. “I know I have taken you out of your comfort, away from the things you love and cherish the most. I know I haven’t been the easiest to contend with.”
“That is an understatement,” she interrupted with a laugh.
He shot her a look. “Will you let me finish without your interruptions?”
She leaned against him, breathing in his scent. Oh, how it made her heart race! “Go on.”
“I wish to give you back some of those happy things in your life, so I have purchased some goldsmith tools, and set an office for you in a wing of the palace that wasn’t being used.”
Her head shot up so fast she nearly clipped his chin with it. Have I heard him right? “What? Already?”
“Yes. A shop, or rather, an office and goldsmith place in the palace, and in the future, a shop,” he said, his other hand caressing her chin. “For you to create your pieces as much as you wish and after the baby is born and you’re feeling well enough, you can start selling them. Meanwhile, you start the production.”