A Love that Endures 3

by Forrest, Bella

  Katy giggled, leaning in to her cousin. Then her expression hardened again. “It’s . . . this is all just a bit much. I mean, for my engagement.” She bit her lip, choosing her words carefully, telling as much as she could without going to the place she didn’t want to dwell on. “When I told Oliver that we could announce, I was thinking something like . . . nice cards we could send out. Not televised introductions to the queen and massive parties at the palace.”

  “Then you should be marrying a computer programmer, hon. Not a duke.” Cassie winked.

  Katy smiled and looked down at her hands. “I guess I kind of wish I didn’t have to marry anyone.”

  Immediately after she said it, Katy’s smile slid off her face. She turned to look at her cousin, noticing that she also looked taken aback.

  “I don’t mean it like that,” Katy quickly added. “I mean, Oliver’s great. He’s lovely, truly. But I . . .”

  “Never got over David?”

  Her cousin’s suggestion nearly knocked the wind out of Katy’s lungs. She hadn’t expected her to be so forward about it, especially since they had basically stopped talking about Katy’s infamous ex almost five years earlier, only weeks after they’d left Harvard without finishing sophomore year. Katy had been too stunned, and then, as everything unfolded, too pained to bring it up. Cassie had responded with “tough love,” trying to heal Katy by helping her forget rather than wallow. And then, slowly, eventually, everyone else had seemed to forget and move on with their lives.

  So it had gone unspoken. Until, deep within Katy, that tangled mass of emotions had begun to fester.

  Katy’s mind reeled as she struggled to formulate a response to her cousin. But Cassie spared her the effort, leaning closer and draping an arm over her shoulders.

  “Katy, honey, I know that was hard for you. It was hard for me too, to see you so happy only for it to get pulled out from under you.” Cassie leaned her head against Katy’s shoulder. “But you’ve got to remember that it’s not your fault—you just got taken in by a scoundrel. You’ve got to let it go. You’ve got to bury David once and for all.”

  Katy exhaled. She was torn inside. Mostly, she just willed herself to forget everything, but a part of her still desperately wanted to talk about her complex feelings on the matter. “I have let it go. I mean, I don’t even know where he is. For all I know he’s still in Boston. Or Brazil. It’s not like I went looking for him.”

  “I know,” Cassie said comfortingly. “But I know he’s been on your mind. Maybe taking up a place where Oliver should be.”

  Katy swallowed.

  “I know that you’re not sure about anything right now,” her cousin continued, her arm around Katy tightening in a gentle squeeze, “but you can’t let your fears hold you back from happiness. Not anymore. You have to give in to new love, hon.”

  Katy leaned her head over to rest atop Cassie’s. It was a beautiful sentiment, and she so greatly appreciated her cousin’s presence and kind words.

  But it was easier said than done.

  Cassie pulled back to face Katy. “I didn’t thank you properly for being here today, Katy.”

  Katy tried to demur, but Cassie wasn’t having it. “No, really. Madame Ivanov is still in Russia, and my own mother . . .”

  Katy reached down to squeeze Cassie’s hand. She’d been quietly indignant on Cassie’s behalf when she heard that Cassie’s mother couldn’t make it to her daughter’s dress fitting or the engagement party because she was still recovering from a cosmetic procedure. She knew it was a painful subject for her cousin.

  “But having you here, and knowing that you’re okay with the timing of my wedding and all, well . . .” Cassie paused, and Katy noticed that her eyes were beginning to mist over. “It just really means a lot to me. More than you know. And I hope you know that I’m here for you, too.”

  The two women embraced on the tufted chair of the bridal shop room. Katy held her cousin closely, relishing the feeling of being less alone in London.

  “Ladies?” The attendant rapped on the door. “Anything I can do?”

  Cassie pulled back and wiped away a tear. “Yes, we’re ready now!” She cast a last appreciative look at Katy and then stood and walked back to the pedestal as the attendant reentered the room.

  Sixteen more dresses later, a poignant hush settled over the room as Cassie was pinned into a bright, sleeveless gown that trailed crystals and tufts of downy white feathers. It hugged her in all the right places, and the straight neckline highlighted her elegant décolletage.

  “Perfect for a statement necklace,” the attendant offered. “One of the most sought-after young designers in the world. Ostrich feathers and Swarovski crystals.”

  Cassie was transfixed by her own image, unable even to respond.

  It was a gorgeous, theatrical, showstopping dress. Katy already knew what Cassie would say next.

  “This is the one.”

  The attendant breathed out a sigh of relief. “It’s perfect for you, madam. Just perfect.”

  “How much?” Cassie asked, smoothing her hands over the silk.

  The attendant cleared her throat with a blank face.

  When she said the number aloud, Katy had to stifle a gasp. She could’ve paid for a whole wedding with that amount. And then the honeymoon. And then three more honeymoons after that.

  But Cassie hadn’t even blinked.

  “We’ll take it.”

  7

  David

  When the first light of the dim London morning reached the vagrants’ car park, it found David restless and in thought. He hadn’t slept much the night before. He had been unable to slow the racing thoughts in his mind, a cascade that had tumbled free of its normal boundaries with the addition of just one new variable.

  Cassie.

  Cassie had been the one to plant drugs on an innocent man, not the king or queen. That was the exact same tactic that had been used against David back in Cambridge. It didn’t seem likely that both she and whoever had framed him originally would be using the same nefarious methods without being in cahoots somehow. If not the same person altogether.

  And why?

  In Rufus’s case, the answer was more or less clear: to cover up an unsavory overheard conversation. David’s mind flashed back to the details Rufus had shared with him the night before, the details that he had turned over and over all night.

  “It was the princess’s cousin, Cassandra, and that new fiancé of hers. Some Russian guy named Boris. She was complaining to him about the princess, calling her a prude and a bore and some other . . . less nice things.”

  “Like?” David had pressed.

  “Like . . .” Rufus had replied, obviously uncomfortable. “Like, ‘Hopefully Her Holiness isn’t planning on wearing a white wedding dress,’ and, ‘Not like Oliver is getting any.’ Stuff like that.”

  David had narrowed his eyes and shaken his head. It didn’t make any sense. When he’d last seen them, Cassie and Katy were the best of friends, and Cassie had always seemed to care so deeply about her cousin, sometimes to the point of being overprotective. David couldn’t imagine her being so hateful behind closed doors. But Rufus had sworn that what he overheard made it clear: Cassie wasn’t the friend that Katy thought she was.

  Was Rufus lying? Though David had only just met him, he seemed like an affable, genuine person. And while he had wound up in a homeless camp, by now, David knew that simply being homeless could happen to just about anyone, honest or not. Moreover, Rufus’s story made sense. And what motivation would he possibly have to come here and lie to David?

  “I was in charge of bringing the evening tea to their stateroom,” the young man had told him, his face pained at the memory. “But we were running a bit ahead of schedule. I don’t think they were expecting me yet. I knocked on the door. No answer. But it was cracked open, so I decided to just leave the tea on the credenza.”

  All a reasonable enough story so far. Maybe not the usual palace protocol, but reasonable eno
ugh.

  “I could hear Cassandra and Boris talking, so I tried to make haste. I should’ve just announced myself, but she has a bit of a reputation for being testy around staff. So I decided to just try to get in and get out quickly.”

  The reputation part had confused David. Sure, Cassie had a taste for luxury, and she could be a little out of touch at times. But testy? David had only seen that side of Cassie when she’d been convinced that he was out to destroy her cousin, and though he’d been upset at the time, he’d also thought it a fairly understandable response.

  “I could hear them talking in another room while I sat the tray down. They sounded kind of giddy, like they had maybe had a few glasses of wine. They were making fun of the princess’s relationship, I think. Cassandra called it a farce, said that the princess was incapable of love anymore. Called the duke a fool. When I heard that, I knew I was in trouble. So I tried to book it, but, dunce that I am, I tripped over something on the way out. Cassandra comes running out . . . and I knew then that I was a goner.”

  Rufus’s story ended in the palace staffer’s office. Apparently, she’d received a report that he’d looked intoxicated on the job. When she’d asked him to turn out his pockets, he’d been surprised to find a small bag of marijuana.

  “Planted. I mean, I’m no prude. I’ve had my share. But I’ve been sober for a while now, off everything. It was the only way my parents would let me live with them. So I get terminated on the spot, and then when I try to explain it to Ma and Dad, they kick me out before I’m even done talking. Obviously. Who would believe this story anyway? I have a history.”

  David had experienced that kind of judgment firsthand. Now, as he sat up in his paltry shelter and thought over the events of the previous evening, he was wondering if such similar stories could really be a coincidence.

  Cassie acting as an agent, doing the king and queen’s bidding, kind of made sense. In fact, he’d briefly considered the possibility in prison, when he’d had all the time in the world to think over possibilities. Cassie would’ve had access to David’s room. She would’ve been better able to keep an eye on Katy from Cambridge than Katy’s parents. And she had turned on David so quickly at the first sign of his guilt. Had that been by design?

  In fact, in his darkest moments, he’d realized that Cassie had spent the first part of their acquaintance getting between himself and Katy however possible. But he’d always thought that had been because of her incredible lack of tact and her really obvious crush on him. She’d seemed clueless, but sweet. Surely a person who was so socially awkward was incapable of such a bold plan.

  But for the same reason that he’d eventually shaken the thought off in prison, David was doubting himself now. What did Cassie have to gain? Katy was her beloved cousin and best friend. They’d grown up together. They were practically sisters! Why would Cassie risk her relationship with Katy just to do the king and queen’s legwork?

  Katy’s parents had to be involved somehow. They were the ones who needed Katy to be married off to a suitable match in order to avoid losing their legacy. Lorrellian law required that the monarch be married. So if something happened to the king or queen, and Katy wasn’t yet betrothed, the de Courtes royal line would be at an end. In fact, Cassie had been the one to tell him that little detail, on his single visit to Lorria.

  But what was in it for Cassie? She was already rich. She couldn’t be queen. What could they possibly have offered her?

  David sighed and rubbed one grimy hand against the back of his stiff neck. He needed a shower and some hot coffee. He might be able to scrape together enough change for a cup, and the homeless center had communal showers for use. Maybe after that his brain would clear up and he’d better be able to . . .

  “David!”

  Mick’s thin face popped into sight milliseconds after his warning. David sucked in air, trying to relax his automatic startle, then the grumpiness that followed.

  “Mick! We’ve talked about this. Boundaries. In the mornings, wait until I come out!”

  “Ain’t no boundaries in the tramp camp, lad.” Mick grinned. Then, without waiting for an invitation, he piled into the box, forcing David to sit up or be sat on. He sighed and made room. “Mick, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”

  Mick widened his eyes in disbelief. “Well you should know, shouldn’t ya? Did that stuff last night mean nothing?”

  David looked to the side, pulling his knees up to rest his forearms on them. “Well, no. It didn’t mean nothing. But it doesn’t really change anything.”

  “What you mean it doesn’t change anything? David. This is your chance, like. Right the wrongs!”

  “Mick,” David started slowly, trying to get his easily excited friend’s full attention. “What do you want me to do with this information? Go to the press? Storm the palace?”

  “Um.”

  David went on. “I have no evidence. I mean, no hard evidence. All I’ve got is hearsay from an ex-addict who got fired from his palace job.”

  “But what about that Cassandra bird? You was putting all your focus on the king and queen before. When you should’ve been investigating the cousin! Don’t you want justice, lad?”

  David shook his head disapprovingly. “Justice? Listen to yourself, Mick. What part of this place makes you think justice even exists? What world are you living in?”

  Mick ran a hand through his thinning hair, his ordinary smile looking strained, and David realized that he was being unnecessarily acidic toward his friend. He took a deep breath and calmed his tone. “Look, I appreciate your effort here, mate. But I already knew I’d been backstabbed and framed before I heard that Rufus bloke’s story. Even if I was missing some of the details, I don’t really see how this changes anything—if the hunch is even correct! It’s still not quite adding up to me.”

  Without a clear motive for Cassie, David wasn’t sure about his suspicions. Maybe Cassie was just a crappy friend. Maybe she’d had a bit too much to drink and thought she could safely vent to her fiancé. On the other hand, maybe she really was a total bitch who hated Katy and had planted evidence to get palace staff fired once they knew too much, just like Rufus claimed. That didn’t necessarily mean that she’d been working with the king and queen five years ago in Massachusetts, or that she’d practiced the same tactic on David.

  Maybe it was just standard protocol for how the Lorrellian elite did business.

  “I see where you’re coming from,” Mick countered. “But all I’m saying, like, is this opens up some new avenues. For justice, yeah, but also to . . .”

  David shook his head quickly, cueing Mick to go on after trailing off.

  “To get your bird back,” he finished.

  David’s chest went icy, as it so often did when someone mentioned Katy to him. It was a pain he didn’t feel like sinking into, preferably ever, but especially not before coffee and a shower.

  “Mate,” David replied. “I already know that’s hopeless. All communication between us was effectively blocked back when I was a uni student with a smartphone and email. Now I’m a hobo without a library card, even. I have as much chance talking to her as you have scheduling an audience with the queen of England.”

  “But that’s the thing, David! This Cass bird obviously gets a little loose on the alchy-ol. Maybe she’ll even sing to the king and queen once they show up! What if you could get evidence? Then we ‘it the presses and we talk to your princess.”

  David didn’t even mention Mick’s use of the word “we.” Instead, he said, “It won’t be any easier to get close to Katy’s cousin if she’s staying in the palace, too.”

  “Well, what about that palace job opening? They did just can a junkie yesterday. And I know some people who could get us fake docs for a pittance. Quality stuff.” Mick winked.

  David rolled his eyes. “Even if that somehow worked—which it wouldn’t—Cassie isn’t going to confess anything to me. She knows me. She’d recognize me in a heartbeat and have me arrested.”<
br />
  “Then we make sure she won’t recognize you.” Mick threw his hands up in an exasperated manner. “C’mon, lad. I thought you were ‘ead over ‘eels for this princess. Where’s your sense of effort? What’s ‘olding you back?”

  For a moment, David couldn’t answer.

  The accusation stung. In a way, Mick was right. Even if it seemed hopeless, this was Katy they were talking about. She was worth the effort, no matter how slim their chances were. He couldn’t argue that. He knew it in his bones. But Mick didn’t see the whole picture.

  “I’m scared, mate.” David looked down, resting his forehead on his arms where he sat. It was an embarrassing confession, and it made him feel vulnerable and exposed. After a few long seconds, he looked back up at Mick. “They took everything from me. Harvard, my reputation, my family, the girl I love . . . and that was just back when I was collateral damage. You have no idea what they’re capable of.”

  Mick took a deep breath and then nodded, pushing up on his arms. It was obvious that he was making to leave. But he spoke before that.

  “You’re right, David. I don’t know.”

  The pitter-patter of morning rain began to drum the cardboard as Mick paused.

  “But Rufus got a taste of it. And I bet ‘e won’t be the last. So it’s not really just about you anymore, is it?”

  David’s brow furrowed in thought, that information slowly sinking in, as Mick nodded in farewell and then backed out of the shelter, keeping his eyes on David until the plastic flap obscured his face.

  8

  Katy

  Encased in Oliver’s warm, strong hand, Katy’s fingers began to lose circulation. She wiggled them, hoping that he would get the hint and release. But instead he just looked over at her with a small smile.

  “Nervous?” he asked playfully, gently squeezing Katy’s hand.

  She was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. “No,” she replied, trying and failing to be convincing.