Royal Love

  As jealousy stabbed him like a driven nail, Angus strode through the shop, reaching into his pocket for a peppermint candy. Popping a soft white wafer into his mouth, he went to glare out the window. The confection, made of egg whites, icing sugar, and flavored essence, instantly dissolved in a melting flood of mint.

  “What is this?” Siobhan asked the jeweler.

  Javert chuckled. “I added a musgravite beneath the diamond for a fun twist.”

  “How beautiful.”

  Perceiving that the ring had caught Siobhan’s fancy, Angus went to have a look at it. She handed the ring to him, and he inspected it closely.

  As he turned it from side to side, ambient light struck hot and cool blue and green flashes from the colored depths. It was a lovely ring, but even with it being a diamond, it was infinitely humbler than the one he had first chosen. It wasn’t fit for a princess, much less for the wife of the King of Lektenstaten.

  Silently he damned Javert for having brought up such an unassuming piece of jewelry in the first place.

  “Siobhan,” Angus said pitting the piece back on the tray and moving away from it, “let him show you something else. This has to be the least valuable ring from the entire tray.”

  “To me, it’s the most valuable,” Siobhan said cheerfully. Having studied jewelry, she would have liked to discard the formality of a diamond for something creative. “I never judge the worth of something by how much it actually costs.”

  “A pretty sentiment,” Javert commented. “Plus, I have coordinating wedding bands.”

  “But this isn’t good enough for you. Choose another,” Angus said.

  Crossing the room, careful to keep her posture perfect, she faced Angus, mere inches between them. “You haven’t any idea what I deserve.”

  There was a beat, and he said, “I know you deserve better than that.”

  Her breath caught at the echo of the words, no longer a taunt, now an honest, quiet observation. She willed herself not to allow him access to the part of her that cared what he thought.

  The part of her that could too easily imagine that he didn’t care for her.

  That he didn’t think highly of her.

  But failed.

  He did care for her and thought highly of her: Him angry at the reporters for her sake had proved it. Him saving her a few days ago had proved it. Now proved it.

  “That’s utterly inappropriate,” he informed her, squashing all thoughts of rebellion. He refused to indulge in her whimsy for something cheap, even if it was cheerful and turning to Javert, he said, “My wife will wear only the best. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, or emeralds. She can choose.”

  “I can choose, but only what you want?” she asked, but with a smile. How could she object to a man arguing over trying to give her more than what she desired?

  And hasn’t he compromised when it had come to my work? She picked a ring which had caught her eye previously by the rarity of the green diamond. It was striking in its purity and held by four prongs it stood out by the two triangle diamonds of the purest white set on the side. She tried it on and it slid right into place. She extended her hand to Angus. “Is this stately enough for Your Majesty?”

  The diamond wasn’t the size of a boulder as he would have preferred, she was sure, but it would never pass unnoticed.

  “You have exquisite taste, Lieben.” Satisfied with her choice, when he went to pay, he whispered to Javert, “Make a full set for her using the style and gems of the ring she liked.” And then in a louder voice, “Siobhan and I would like to talk with you about a joint venture.”

  When he looked over his shoulder at Siobhan, she was grinning.

  What is a loving relationship if not about compromises, Dragon?

  Lekten Royal Bank

  Thursday, April 7, 2016

  3:45 p.m.

  Ludwig snapped his fingers. “Angus, stop daydreaming!”

  He raised his eyes from his watch to look at Ludwig sitting in the armchair in front of his desk.

  “I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t witness this love-sickness with my own eyes.” Ludwig tsked his friend.

  Angus chortled. “There’s something indescribable about her—and the way she makes me feel.” He spent his days in a state he could swear was close to bloody pining, counting down the hours until night when he could have her all to himself. He, Angus Augustus Braxton-Lenox, the King of Lektenstaten, craved a woman’s attention.

  “But you scarcely know her, man.”

  “I have no reason for it that makes any sense. But I refuse to lose her.” He understood what he’d experienced in the past had been so lacking compared to what Siobhan gave him—it was as if he’d been eating all his life without having been hungry or tasted a morsel. Now he starved. And feasted. And he never wanted to go back. “And I’m getting to know her better every day. The more I do, the more of that indescribable feeling I get.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Ludwig offered.

  “I’ve known many beautiful women.”

  Ludwig chuckled. “She’s more beautiful than the others, then?”

  “She’s more something than any other.” Angus shook his head. “How is it possible a man’s world can be turned inside out before he even has a chance to see it coming and try to stop it, Ludwig?”

  “There’s never been a prevention, or a cure for lovesickness.”

  Angus turned and gave Ludwig a grin. “Lovesickness is not a thing my friend. This is a man enjoying what belongs to him with great relish.”

  It was Ludwig’s turn to chuckle. “Very well, you can pretend that’s what it is but we all know it to be something totally different.”

  Angus thought about denying it further but decided to save his breath. “I have no words for what she makes me feel.”

  “You always have words.”

  “Not this time, which warns me I’m truly in deep trouble and about to get deeper.”

  “You’re determined to wed the most willful, opinionated female ever to walk the face of the earth.” Ludwig slumped back in the chair. “You are beyond hope. Next, you’ll be declaring your undying love.”

  Angus silently swirled the brandy in his glass, studying it as if he’d never seen such a fascinating sight.

  A moment passed.

  Then another.

  “Angus?” Ludwig’s voice rose. “You’re not in love, are you?”

  “I’m not certain I would recognize love if I saw it. Let me ask you something.” Angus’s gaze met his. “Why are you now so concerned about whether or not I’m in love when you weren’t before?”

  Ludwig blew out a long breath. He knew it would come to this. He should have confided in Angus.

  His friend clasped his hands behind his back as they watched Fiona and Siobhan walking in the garden outside the window. “I have news to share with you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Your Siobhan is the long-lost sister of the king of Aragon.”

  Angus burst into laughter as he looked at his friend, one of the very few he would trust with his life. “And what brought this revelation?” They had all heard the rumors about the desperate search for the sister of the king of Aragon. Rumor was he wanted her to rule beside him, and though a great deal of women had attempted to take that title, none had proven to be his blood relation. And now Ludwig was trying to tell Angus that Siobhan was that woman?

  Ludwig cleared his throat and Angus was instantly on guard. “I come to you as a friend, Angus…”

  “You’re serious about this?”

  “I am. And I can see Siobhan makes you happy, far happier than Innes ever did, and it would devastate you to lose her.”

  Angus ran a hand over his face. “Out with it already.”

  Ludwig began to tell what he had heard and Angus’s own blood relations knew and they were planning on keeping it from him.

  With each word, Angus felt his own heart break, replaced with anger toward those that were supposed to have his best interests in min
d. “You are sure about this?”

  Ludwig placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry, old friend.”

  Angus drew in a breath, watching as the women walked out of view. Siobhan was royalty. He had thought her special, but this, she was considered his equal now. No longer would she have the label of commoner once she took back what belonged to her.

  And his mother, he would deal with her at the right time, in his own way. This would be the last time she would attempt to interfere with his life.

  What if Siobhan leaves me after she learns who she truly is?

  The country of Aragon was quite wealthy and as one of the members of the royal family, she would never have to worry about her future ever again. His wealth would mean nothing to her.

  All he had left to offer her now was himself.

  He turned away from the window, stopping mid-stride when a thought hit him as if a double-punch: What if I am not enough?

  30

  4:00 p.m

  In Siobhan’s Drawing Room turned makeshift office, Ewan, Kerr, and a frightful number of papers awaited her approval.

  Intimidated, Siobhan riffled through the pile Catriona had sent her: menus, flower arrangements, and other lists; the one Kerr had put on the other side of the desk with curriculum vitaes for her new secretary; and at last, the one Ewan had put in the middle of her desk, which was the most intimidating of all: lists for the things to be done to get their wedding going.

  She knew managing the palace and Angus’s mountain house was going to be a monumental task but there was more than she had imagined. Maybe the old cobra is right, and I will mess this all up.

  “May I assist you, Ms. Faulkner?” The murmured question came from over her shoulder. “I know how confusing those lists can be at first.”

  She looked up to find Ewan standing near. She sighed in relief. “Yes, please.”

  “Shall we start choosing a secretary?”

  After two hours—sooner than she had previewed—they had almost gone through the piles and they were chatting as if old friends—albeit formal old friends.

  “The King isn’t always like this,” Ewan confided, handing her the next set of papers.

  “Like how?” she asked distractedly as she reviewed the yearly parties.

  Kerr answered for Ewan, “All good-morning smiles.”

  “No?” Siobhan pounced on the kernel of hope as she signed her name on the list and stretched her hand for the last one.

  Passing her the menus for said parties, Ewan said, “Nein. Usually, he’s a great deal worse.”

  To which Kerr added, “Only grunts and nods, especially in the mornings.”

  Oh. Siobhan swallowed hard, set the list on her desk and put her elbows on it, which earned a dark glance from Ewan. She corrected her posture before asking, “How was he as a child?”

  With a glance at Ewan, who nodded in encouragement, Kerr said, “He was…a lonely child. The Dowager Princess was not a very attentive mother.”

  “And the late princess was not very warm, either,” chimed in Ewan, “though they were good friends.”

  “He doesn’t trust anyone, but he respects those who challenge him,” said Kerr. “I suspect that’s why you are here. He was resentful and bored until he met you.”

  This is not getting any better. She looked from Ewan to Kerr, waiting for the complement she knew was coming.

  “You’ll either be the making of him…or he’ll be the ruin of you,” Ewan added. “If it helps, the entire staff is pulling for the former.”

  “It does help. I think.” To both men she asked, “Do you have advice?”

  Kerr looked at Ewan and back at Siobhan and smiled, “Well, it’s too late to run.”

  Siobhan sighed. “Other than that.”

  “Drink?” Ewan suggested, with a wink that seemed to say: We’re in this together now. “Someone ought to make good use of the royal cellars.”

  Whatever it took for the making of a lonely, resentful, and bored king, Siobhan was positive she lacked it.

  However, if Ewan, Kerr, and the entire staff—plus Fiona—wanted to be in her corner, she wouldn’t complain. She needed to have a few friends in this fairy-tale palace before it turned into a haunted mansion.

  As the three of them continued to go through the lists and the men added little, but very enlightening tidbits about Angus’s past, Siobhan’s mind began to understand his reasons for pushing her to accept a kind of business arrangement for a marriage, instead of focusing on building a love-filled relationship.

  Yet, he hadn’t proposed again and she hadn’t had to deny his request.

  It was kind of ironic.

  And very much scary.

  Because if he had asked now, she would have said yes.

  Friday, April 8, 2016

  9:00 a.m.

  Once more, Catriona leafed through the second file on Siobhan, which had arrived the day before, wondering if she was doing the right thing. With Lilian, the goldmine digger teenager who had bewitched her young and naïve son, she knew she had been right, even if Angus would never know, but now, with Siobhan she was not so sure.

  “Don’t tell me you’re have having doubts about our plan,” said Aileen, eyeing her sister-in-law with sharp eyes.

  “And if they really like each other?” asked Catriona. “She didn’t bow to any of our rebukes and pranks. She seems to like—”

  “She’s a bastard,” hissed Aileen, narrowing her eyes at Catriona. “She was raised by nobodies. She will just taint the line.”

  Catriona sniffed and raised her chin. “Well, the line has already been tainted by me, according to you.”

  “Nonsense.”

  Aileen waved her hand in the air but she didn’t fool Catriona, who added, “And we can’t forget she is pregnant already.”

  “That can also be taken care of.”

  Catriona pursed her lips. “Are you sure this is the best way to deal with this, Aileen? She’s carrying the long-awaited royal heir—a true blueblood.”

  “Do you remember what I told you when he brought that teenage gipsy to see you all those years ago?” Aileen continued without waiting for Catriona’s answer, “If you had not followed my suggestion, she would be reigning here today. Let’s stick to the plan.”

  Catriona inhaled a deep breath. “Alright.”

  9:45 a.m.

  When Kerr had summoned her from her room, whispering that Angus’s mother and aunt wanted to discuss something with her, Siobhan had let her imagination run wild with possibilities.

  Siobhan walked to Catriona’s new wing—to where she had moved after her visit to Angus’s mountain house—as if her feet were made of lead, dreading every step she covered. While she could name a great deal of things she liked about being here, there were two that clearly did not give her the smiles; on the contrary, they made her nauseous.

  They didn’t attempt to hide the fact they thought she was not the right choice for the king. She doubted anything she did would ever change their minds. She could learn the language and mannerisms, she could become the woman that they craved for Angus, but in their minds, she would always be a waitress, a commoner.

  Though Siobhan attempted to not let it bother her, it did, greatly. If she truly was going to marry Angus and become his wife, the mother to his heir, the last thing she needed was the family hating her and her lineage—or lack of it.

  Siobhan drew in a deep breath and placed her hand over her fluttering belly, reminding herself why she needed to put up with his family to begin with. There was a child growing inside her, that no matter how much she balked at her future, would need the support of his or her family. She would remain respectful the best she knew how.

  “Siobhan,” the Dowager Princess said as she entered the room. “Come, join us for breakfast.”

  “You wished to see me?” Siobhan replied evenly, as she did as she was asked, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table from the two women.

  “Yes,” Aileen
said, a smile on her face. “There is something we think you should know.” Which gave Siobhan the creeps. While Catriona was cold and cruel, Aileen was positively mean and vicious, and Siobhan would wager, mad as well.

  Catriona pulled out a manila envelope from the side of her plate and set it in front of Siobhan, a fixed smile on her face. “We could not allow you to remain at my precious son’s side without doing a bit of digging into your past. I hope you will not hold it against us.”

  Anger shimmered inside Siobhan but she bit her lip to avoid giving them a piece of her mind, knowing it would not help. She would not fool herself thinking Angus had not done the same, but differently from his mother and aunt, he had a great deal to lose if he chose the wrong person to marry. And despite her, well, evilness, she knew that the Dowager Princess cared about her son—somewhere in that deep, cold heart of hers.

  “Of course not,” she finally said with a tight-lip smile. “I understand.”

  They both looked surprised, clearing their throats at the same time, making Siobhan want to laugh aloud.

  “Well now,” Catriona finally said, fussing with her napkin. “That is very wise of you, Siobhan, I must say. One must protect their assets.”

  “Hear, hear,” Aileen remarked, taking a sip of her tea, her eyes on Siobhan.

  Glad for Ewan’s daily morning lessons, Siobhan did not offer up any expression, pointing to the envelope. “What did you find?”

  She imagined nothing exciting, perhaps a few of her bills were paid quite late and her checking account was far from anything impressive. What can be so exciting anyway?

  Catriona placed her hands in her lap and looked her dead in the eyes. “You are long-lost royalty.”

  They have truly lost it. Siobhan looked at the two women and burst into laughter. “Now that would be surprising indeed.” Are they trying to make up a past for me so that it won’t look so bad if the wedding takes place?

  “Go on,” Aileen said, waving her hand. “Open it. You will see.”