Chandelier (Tarnished Crowns Trilogy Book 1)

by Annie Dyer

  Today I plan to ride, see the mountains and the loch for one more time before I’m away because homesickness is real and I know within a few days I’ll be craving the dark grey of the water and the wave of the pines.

  I need real, not these wicked thoughts of Ben which reduce me to living in a world fabricated from fantasy. Still naked, I pull back the curtain enough to look out at the loch, knowing that the rough land outside means no one will catch sight as it’s rare for anyone to be there.

  But I’m not alone.

  Ben’s standing on the rocks, looking out to the water at the oncoming clouds. Weather spotting.

  It’s almost like he knows I’m there, as he turns round to my window. He’s naked from the waist up, his skin tanned and muscles cut, wearing army fatigues that are worn.

  I drop the curtain open and stand at the full-length window naked, knowing he’ll see me. Wanting him to see me.

  He stares, the movement of the material catching his attention if it wasn’t there already. My arms fall to my sides, my nipples still puckered and I know that the top of my inner thighs is shiny with my arousal, which is now heightening once more as his stare touches my skin.

  I cup my breasts, pushing them forward and step my legs apart. Ben’s frozen, watching, so I do it again, not caring what he thinks of me or how I’m acting. This is all based on instinct and need.

  Lust.

  Want.

  All the base things I’m not meant to feel because I’m a princess. I’m refined.

  I’m a woman.

  I slip a hand between my legs and cup my sex, pressing a finger inside and then he moves, his hand dropping to his fatigues, between his legs and I know he’s hard. For me.

  There’s a knock at my door and the call of ‘breakfast’. I ignore it, slowly closing back the curtains and leaving him standing there, alone. With the image of me naked and touching myself burned into his retinas.

  I won’t be ashamed later. I won’t avoid his eyes when he looks at me. It was risky and wild, but now I feel alive although my body still yearns for his.

  Finish what he started more than a decade ago.

  Let me find out what it’s like to be with him.

  The stables are quiet, most of the horses out in the field nearby, some of them being trained. Ellidh, my favourite, is peering over the fence as if she’s waiting for me to find her and take her out for a ride. Time is poor as my father’s insisting on a family meal before I head off to Jumby Bay and three weeks of sun and beaches at a private resort on a private island. I’ve been before and it was my wish to go again, to be able to sunbathe by the pool in a bikini that was almost indecent.

  There’s the sound of galloping hooves and flicker of mud as a horse turns and heads towards me. Ben’s the rider, his head without a helmet and his body without a top. He’s wearing the same army fatigues as before and I vaguely remember to feel some sort of embarrassment that’ve I’ve stood at a window naked and let him see me.

  “You’re going out for a ride?”

  “Hence the jodhpurs. I opted to keep the nakedness to the indoors.” Embarrassment wasn’t my shade.

  He grins and I feel a sense of achievement.

  “As your head of security, I’d rather you didn’t expose yourself in public.”

  “You didn’t like the view?”

  “I’d need a closer look.”

  My smile is victorious. “Maybe by the pool in a few hours.”

  He shakes his head but I can tell he’s amused.

  “I’m taking Ellidh out around the loch. Do you want to join us?” It was private land, secure. Somewhere I had my freedom. I’d never asked Micky to join me, or even Lennox or Elise, unless it was a planned ride.

  This should be about me and my last time with my horse for a few weeks but I wanted Ben there. Every summer, he’d hung around the stables, learned to ride, and like with everything else he’d done, he’d become a master at it.

  “For an hour or so. I have to go through the security detail for the airport again.” He rolls his eyes.

  “I thought that was done?”

  “It is.”

  I laugh. Micky being protective was to be expected. “Give me five to get her saddled up.”

  I see him ten minutes later, this time wearing a T-shirt that’s too fitted. There’s still no helmet, but then, I’m not wearing one either.

  We head off to the track that rises quickly, taking us up between the dense pines and follows the loch. He knows the route, which doesn’t surprise me; I’m aware that every step I make out of the castle even in a place where I think of myself as being safe, is tracked.

  There’s the sound of hooves falling on soft ground, the occasional whinny and the beating of wings from an eagle as it soars above us, but other than that, there’s silence.

  Ben rides ahead, setting the pace. I try not to watch how he rides, trying to focus on what’s around us instead of his ass and the width of his back. The changes in the last decade shouldn’t surprise me, but I still struggle to understand how that beautifully rough boy has become this beautifully rough man.

  The path broadens out as we descend the mountain, leading us into a glen that’s filled with wild flowers which have survived the summer so far. Ben moves to the side and allows me to catch up, turning his head to look at me.

  “Have you packed?”

  “Pretty much. This time tomorrow – Antigua.” Where there would be a hot sun, blue skies and no politics. No media. Three weeks of head space where I could read and swim and lie in the sun.

  “Why’ve you picked the same place?”

  It was a fair question. This was my second time and given I could pretty much go anywhere, it was reasonable. “Familiarity. It’s secluded. I liked it two years ago.”

  “Not last year?”

  We’ve slowed to little more than a trot.

  “Not last year. There was too much going on with my father’s birthday.” Twenty-five percent more events as we worked to raise the profile of the royals during my father’s sixtieth year. “I always hate leaving here though.”

  “You always did. When you went back to school it was like you were in mourning.”

  It’s the first time he’s properly referenced what I was like.

  “I had to leave here. And my parents.” I watch him. “And you.”

  He doesn’t succeed in hiding his smile. “Me.”

  “Yes you. From being a kid, I hated going back to school and you weren’t there. I asked my mum once if you could come with us.”

  He laughs. “My father wouldn’t have been able to afford a week of the fees, never mind a year.”

  I don’t tell him that I asked if we could pay for him but my father had subtly suggested that Ben wasn’t the type of child to enjoy my school, meaning that he wasn’t right for it.

  “I’m not sure it would’ve been your scene.”

  I see his jaw clench; some internal war being fought.

  “It would’ve, if you were there.”

  The words surprise me.

  “I didn’t think you missed me.”

  “I never said I did. Once you went back to school, I went back home.”

  “Where was home, Ben? I never knew.” Because you never talked about it.

  He says nothing, slowing his horse even further. We’re about forty-five minutes from home and we should be heading back, finishing packing before the car to the airport arrives. I should be finding Lennox and warning him to behave and think in the week before he comes out to join me, taking a break from his own schedule.

  “You knew so much about my family. You never told me about yours. What about your mother?” Because no one had ever said anything about his father’s wife either.

  “My mother died when I was a kid. During term time I lived with my aunt in Lewis and went to the local school. Holidays I stayed with my dad.”

  “How old were you when she died?” I know I shouldn’t ask the question, but I do anyway. He can only refuse
to answer.

  There’s silence, unspoken words hanging in the air.

  “I don’t mean to pry.” I do. “I just never knew that much about you.”

  “You knew everything that mattered.”

  “I knew how your hands felt on my skin and what it was like to kiss you. And how hard you could hold my hair without it hurting.”

  He kicks his heels and the horse gallops off. Ellidh’s ears prick and I know she’s jealous wanting to run too. We all want to run. All the time.

  I let her go, following Ben around the glen, in the shade of the trees and where the shimmering rays of sun capture the blades of grass in a moment that will never be repeated.

  My hair is tossed back by the motion, the breeze tangling it. Ben doesn’t look at me, concentrating fully on his mount and the speed at which he can gallop. He’s good; fearless, maybe stupid but talented. Like he always was.

  He comes to a stop next to the stream that runs through the glen and dismounts, leading the horse to drink. I copy him, giving him distance. Ellidh is interested in the water, and the other horse. She whinnies and stamps her feet, a little protest at something, as is her way, and I offer her a sugar cube I have in my pocket.

  “I was eight when my mother died. She was called Minna. Me and Majken went to live with her sister, my aunt.” His voice is like the stream, cool and trickling, its power in its continuity. Steadiness.

  “Who’s Majken?”

  “My sister.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister.” I didn’t know he had anyone, apart from his father.

  “There was never any reason to mention her. She’s older than me by five years. And she’s, well, she’s unique.”

  We’re standing next to each other by the stream, the trees behind us and the mountains in the distance, sheltering us from the castle. There’s no one here. It’s still private land and too far away from the rest of the world for anyone without an agenda to actually be.

  “Do you still see Majken?”

  “Sometimes. We clash.”

  “Tell me about your mother. Was she Scottish?”

  “Norwegian. She was strict but warm. She always smiled and laughed.”

  I don’t think. My hand goes to rest on his arm because my words may be factual and nosey, but there’s tenderness I can convey with a touch.

  Ben doesn’t flinch but neither does he acknowledge.

  “Your father hugged you too.” I’d seen Ben being side hugged, full hugged, patted on the back multiple times by Leonard, but he’d been reticent to ever initiate touch with me, or anyone else, not until someone had touched him first.

  “He did. I think he tried to make up for our mother not being there.”

  “How did she die?”

  He’s quiet and I know he’s wondering if to tell me the truth or to lie.

  “She was living in England but because she was an immigrant she was forced to leave. She died on the boat on the way back to Sweden. She was sick. Cancer. But couldn’t be treated in England when they changed the laws.”

  There is nothing I can say because no words can wash away that pain, so instead I turn to face him, knowing he was the one to dismount first, that he led us here.

  He’s not running.

  Neither am I.

  I lift my hands and cup his face, feeling the scruff on his jaw, seeing his eyes, feeling the power in my hands that came from touching someone so intimately and them letting you even if it was for just a moment.

  There’s no thunder. The air doesn’t change. Birds continue their summer song. July surrounds us with its stagnant promises of glorious summers where the heat kills everything and nothing moves.

  Ben licks his lips and swallows, his eyes dark pools of secrets. Then his hands pin themselves onto my hips and I have no idea who kisses who first, but our mouths are hungry and there’s fire in every synapse, every pulse.

  He tastes of mint and him, and I remember this. His hands don’t shift from my hips, holding me as if I’ll float away if he lets go. I’ve changed my hold to his shoulders, pulling myself closer, pushing my body against his, but he doesn’t crush me.

  Not physically.

  He could crush everything else.

  Teeth clash; he bites my bottom lip, I suck his. Our tongues explore and my body ignites. This is how I felt when we were kids, only now it’s real because there’s no reason for him to stop.

  Only there’s always a reason.

  I push my fears away, instead losing myself in the feel of him. A part of my world is back in the right place only I’m not sure how long it will stay there.

  I hear a moan and realise it’s come from me. I’m wet between my legs and if he suggested we stripped and fucked by this stream, I’d agree but I know his resolve is better than mine.

  This is our last first kiss and if it’s all I have from Ben to get me through the nights that will follow until I’m too old to remember, I’ll take every single second and memorise it.

  A horse murmurs. The wind turns up a notch and the sound of a bird of prey fractures the quiet.

  We pull apart and pause, looking at each other as if this is the first time we’ve seen something. Ben calls his horse and mounts him; I copy.

  “We should get back to the castle. We’ve been out too long.”

  We have.

  Eleven years too long.

  Chapter Eight

  The cool breeze licks at my skin, causing goose bumps. It’s a perfect day; blue skies that aren’t peppered with any clouds and a calm turquoise sea in the distance, a distance I can see from my sun lounger. It’s still, maybe too still and I can feel a slow niggle of impatience. In a few more days this will have gone and I’ll never want to leave, but right now my book holds no interest. I’m restless, and another swim in the pool isn’t going to tame the need to ride or move or run.

  It’s the third day and I’ve been here alone which up until now has been almost paradise. Ben has come and gone, keeping his distance after our ride together, our kiss, leaving me with the conundrum of assumptions and guesses about him.

  It had always been like this.

  “Blair, your brother’s twenty minutes away.”

  Nina is one of our staff at home, and although the residence we have on Jumby Bay Island is fully staffed with people who have been vetted and are used to being discreet, it’s been tradition to take some of the people who work closely with us, partly so they can have a holiday too.

  Nina is a secretary for the castle and can work from anywhere. I know she’s been working today, mainly sorting and rearranging my brother’s diary so he could come out earlier and stay a bit longer.

  I sit up, loosening my damp hair. The intentions I have of making myself presentable for the future king are none, besides, at some point he’ll probably throw me into the pool and then dive in himself, fully clothed, because that was Lennox. Especially when he wasn’t on duty somewhere.

  Missing Lennox wasn’t something I’d ever done. The world was a small place and we were never far apart for too long – sometimes not long enough.

  “Who’s picking him up?” I sit up properly, stretch my legs. Twenty minutes is enough for another swim or some yoga, or a few minutes of peace with my book that’s becoming more appealing now Lennox is arriving.

  “Ben. The driver from the estate offered but, you know, security.” She smiles. “I can’t believe how Ben looks now.”

  I forget that Nina has been working for us for years and will have known Ben when we were younger.

  “He is a bit different.”

  “He still looks at you the same, though.”

  My attention’s been caught now; I’m curious as to what she’s seen and noticed, and worried too. If Nina has noticed how he looks at me, then so has my mother and maybe my father.

  “How does he look at me?”

  She laughs. “Like he’s scared of you but doesn’t want to be.”

  I’m not sure that’s the answer I wanted or expected to hear,
but I can’t ask because my brother’s laughter is carrying across the still air.

  “I thought they were twenty minutes away?” I’m sun kissed and salty, my hair hasn’t seen a brush this side of midnight and my bikini is nothing to photograph.

  But I don’t care because Ben saw me when I was younger and didn’t wear make-up and didn’t have curves and I shouldn’t care anyway.

  It was just a kiss.

  Nothing more.

  It wasn’t everything.

  I haven’t thought about it every single night.

  I’m a liar.

  “Blairarina!”

  The urge to dump my brother in the pool is strong.

  “Lennox. You’re here to disturb my peace.” I take my sunglasses off and try not to squint.

  He smiles, that radiant smile that my brother was blessed with and uses to light up conference rooms and set old ladies’ hearts on fire.

  “Don’t lie. You were missing me. And I know Ben hasn’t had any chance to keep you company.” He sits on the sun lounger next to me, wearing tan slacks and a shirt that make him look like he should be in the editorial pages of a fashion magazine.

  Ben stands near the doors to the main house, wearing sunglasses and a white shirt. He’s already tanned and his hair’s lightened by the sun. His phone is pressed to his ear and he’s talking rapidly.

  This isn’t about us being here. The island is exclusive and only accessible via boat, the shores are studied to ensure the media don’t land to grab photos of any of the holidaymakers. This is a threat from somewhere and I know that these threats are becoming more frequent, more intense, partly because Lennox is becoming more vocal with his vision for the country and there are people who wish for our divide from England to be more hostile.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Because I am. “Can we not talk politics? Maybe remember this is a holiday?”

  Lennox smiles, runs a hand through his hair. “Only if you come to a party at one of the estates tomorrow.”