Royal Command (Royal Watch #2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Her head bolted back, her eyes widening, really taking me in. The girl in jeans, Chucks, and hooded jacket was not what she expected from a future princess, but now that she really looked at my face, I watched her throat dip, trying to swallow back her fear.

  “My lady.” She curtsied, her head lowering immediately, “Forgive me for my rudeness. I did not recognize you.”

  “There should be no difference whether I am a queen or penniless commoner in how you treat me.” I held myself over her small round frame like a mallet.

  “Maude, you may go,” William cut in. “Shut the door.”

  She dipped her legs in a bow before quickly shutting the door in distress.

  A low chuckle yanked my head back to the man standing behind his desk. Wearing a tweed suit, his jacket tossed on the back of his chair, he patted his head with a handkerchief, peering up at me from his files on his desk.

  “Nothing frightens Maude, but I dare say, you may have kicked some life back into that crusty carcass.”

  My throat thickened with acid. “Speaking as a man who was probably around when this country was founded in the fifteenth century.”

  He forced a curl over his lips. “Not quite, but my family was here. Our name has been intertwined with the royal family as long as they’ve been established here.”

  I stared at him, making his mouth curl up into a smug sneer.

  “Good of you to come, Ms. Sutton.” He motioned to a chair on the other side of this desk. I didn’t budge. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Please sit.”

  “No, thank you.” I folded my arms.

  He smirked as he walked around the desk. His skin was pasty and damp, only adding to the repulsion I felt down to my toes for this man.

  “Fire and spunk. I’m so going to enjoy you.” He leaned on the edge of his desk, his demeanor shifting in a blink to ire, spitting out the demand. “Sit.”

  My eyes never leaving him, I circled the curved leather chair, perching on the lip, scanning the room quickly. The office was in dark woods and creams. Built-in bookcases and cabinets were on two connecting sides stocked with books, pictures, and art sculptures. Arched windows overlooked the street, covered by thick cream organza curtains, and a heavy piece of furniture acting as the cocktail bar was set up along the entry wall. His desk was elegant with skinny legs, but the dark wood made it feel masculine. The room smelled of stale cigar smoke, whiskey, and him, which was a mix of rotting corpse, wet wool, and old man aftershave.

  “Would you like a drink, my dear?”

  “No.” My nails dug into the arms of the chair. “Let’s cut the bullshite.”

  His eyes flared with heat, a smile curving his mouth, his tongue slipping over his lip. “To the point.” He reached for his trouser zipper. “No fuss or pretending this is not going to happen. I’m impressed, my dear.”

  “If you move your hand one more millimeter, I will slice it off with a letter opener.” My voice was cool and even, but my gaze burned with rage.

  His nose wrinkled, confusion and anger threading together. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” I couldn’t or wouldn’t touch him. Ever. The thought of touching him, doing what he wanted, would kill me, which made me feel selfish, but it would strip me of my soul. And as much as I loved my family, I couldn’t.

  “Do you realize, little girl, what happens if you don’t?” he seethed, fully standing, his fingers rubbing at his temple. I rose to my feet. Standing, I was still a lot shorter than him, but it made me feel less vulnerable. “You will be destroyed. Your family will be penniless and out on the streets, shamed in the papers. And fucking your bodyguard last night? It was so obvious.” He stepped closer, his sweaty body hovering over mine. “I will happily drag you and him down. The shame and ridicule will not only be on you. Can you do that, Spenccceerr?” He slurred over my name. Was he drunk? “All those lives ruined? Does Theo deserve you screwing the hired help behind his back? Told you if you needed a little extra, you could come here.”

  I swallowed back the vomit building in my throat. “You are the most loathsome bastard alive. Your poor wife. God, I can’t imagine why she’s stayed married to you.”

  “She likes spending my money and doesn’t care what I do on the side.” His gaze dropped to my breasts. I wore the most bulky and unflattering outfit I could find, but he still made me feel like he could see right through, my skin itching and clawing like it wanted to slither off my bones and hide. “But don’t act like you have a problem fucking a married man.” His slurring tripped in and out of his sentence as he stepped into me, unsnapping his pants. I stumbled back, my calves hitting the chair.

  “What does that mean?” I moved around the chair, putting space between us. “Have you finally gone senile, old man?”

  “Oh. You don’t know?” Arrogance perfumed off him, a Cheshire smile engulfing his mouth. “This is so brilliant. Makes this even better, to have that sharp mouth around my dick soon.”

  I gagged, not able to hide my revulsion. “What are you talking about? I’ve never touched a married man in my life.”

  “You sure about that?” His sentence smeared together, his sneer lifting one side of his mouth, sweat beading down his forehead.

  “Yeah.” I tightened my jacket around me, stepping back for the door.

  “Guess you’re not the only one hiding secrets. And when the world learns this…oh, my dear, you won’t survive this scandal.” He stumbled as he traveled to me. “The world will tear you apart. There will be no coming back.”

  “Seriously, how drunk are you?” I edged closer for the exit. “I came here to plead with your humanity. Hoping you would be merciful, but I realized that’s a lost cause. You have none.” I eyed my exit. Only a few steps and I could run for it.

  His expression shot from me to the door, gauging the space, ire compiling along his jaw.

  It was just a beat; tension crackling the space. We both moved at the same time, my hand curling around the handle, a cry breaking from my lips as his long arms grabbed me, whipping me around, slamming me painfully against the wall, my head cracking back, my hip hitting the bar, my eyes watering as the pain stabbed through me.

  He pressed his form into me, his stinky breath and musty suit burning my nostrils. “You aren’t going anywhere, princess.” He sneered the title, his hands grasping my arms, pinning them back into the wall, shoving me tighter between the cabinet, wall, and himself.

  “Get off me!” I bellowed.

  “Not until you give me what I want, you fuckin’ little tease.”

  “Not a chance!” I struggled against him, but he pinned all his weight on me, squashing me as his hands clumsily pawed at my clothes, trying to undo my jeans and shove up my sweater. “No! Stop!”

  “You came to me.” He scoffed, panting for air as he tried to contain me. “How do you think that will look to the media? You think they will ever believe you? Stop fighting me. I know you want it…you’re practically begging me.” The entire end of his sentence mashed up together in a garble. “You want to save your family from ruin? Your relationship with Theo? I know something that will devastate you more than you could possibly imagine. You can oblige me or not. Either way, I will enjoy breaking that feisty spirit of yours.” His hands tore at the button of my jeans, trying to shove them down. I squirmed against his hold, but he had me restrained so tightly against the table and him, all I could do was wiggle my shoulders.

  This can’t be happening.

  “Help!” I bellowed. Maude didn’t seem to like me, but could she really step to the side and let this happen to someone? To the future princess? “Help!”

  “You think she will come save you?” He laughed, his fingers so cold and boney they felt like a skeleton touching my skin, pushing at my sweater, running along my bra. “She’s so deaf, there’s a light in the kitchen to let her know someone is at the door. She won’t help you, girl, not that she would anyway. She has been in this house for forty years and turned a blind eye to all my lo
vers coming in and out.”

  “Your lovers?” I sputtered. “You are sick! How do you even look at yourself? Can’t get a woman who actually wants to be with you, so you have to force them?”

  “You think me so vile?” He growled. “At least I tell you the truth. You know I’m married. You know what I want. Can you say the same for your bodyguard?” He forced my jeans lower, propelling bile onto my tongue. A wretched whimper shot from my esophagus, waiting to crawl out of my body.

  Think, Spencer. Think!

  “Your bodyguard?” He leaned into me, almost like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, his mouth scraping my ear, his fingers pushing into my knickers, “is married.”

  With his words, his touch—rage snapped like a twig, inundating me like a wild animal.

  “Shut up!” I shoved against his frame with everything I had, my nails scraping at his face, and he stumbled back. He cupped his cheek, peering down at the dots of blood. Only half his face contorted into wrath as he glared back for me.

  But I was no longer there. The beast inside, the one that could rise like the phoenix, bellowed inside my chest.

  Two things buried such deep hate in me: people harming innocent animals in any way,

  And…

  Men using power, position, blackmail, and intimidation to abuse women so their egos could feel better about the fact they lacked anything resembling a real man.

  “You bitch!” He spat at me as he lurched for me.

  Reaching across the table, I snatched up the closest object, swinging a crystal decanter bottle at him in threat.

  A strange mangled noise came from him as he staggered backward, his hands going to his chest.

  I didn’t even touch him. Was he going to play that game? Turn this around like I attacked him?

  “Oh, how fast you crumble when the girl gets a little backbone! Come on, arsehole…fight me now!”

  He curved over, gasping and gurgling. He peered up at me, half of his face appearing like it was dripping down his face, one arm falling lifeless to the side.

  “Lord William?” I heard myself croak.

  His face twisted, and a strained groan pitched from him as he toppled back, smashing into his desk.

  Crash!

  Both he and the desk hit the wood floor with a thud, all the contents inside spewing out like it threw up over the room. His hand clawed at his chest as he gasped for air.

  “Oh. My. God.” I cried out, reflex driving me instantly down to his side. “Lord William?” His eyes were glazed over as he sweated profusely, groaning. Panic thumped up my vertebra. “Help! Someone help,” I screamed, realizing too late Maude probably wouldn’t hear me.

  “Fuck. Fuck.” I crawled over the debris streamed on the ground, searching for his landline. I had left my cell back at the palace so they couldn’t track me if they found I was gone. My hands shaking, I dialed the emergency number, spitting out what I could to the dispatch.

  “Hurry!” I screamed before I hung up, scrambling back over to him. He laid there unmoving, his skin pasty, oxygen no longer pumping his chest up and down. “Shite!”

  A part of me, deep down, knew if he died, so would a lot of my problems…

  How I wished I was that person, but I wasn’t. Like with animals, I wanted to save, protect, and help the creatures who couldn’t speak up for themselves. Lord William was one of those right now, no matter how much I hated him.

  “Maude! Help!” I tried to call for her again, hoping she was close. An anguished noise coiled in my chest before I bent over, starting CPR.

  How ironic, I still ended up having my mouth on him.

  Either she was near or sensed a disturbance in the house she ran for so long. Maude burst into the room, her face paling, screaming as she fell down next to her employer. The sirens from the ambulance hinted in the distance.

  Time moved both fast and glacially before figures bustled around me.

  “Miss, we got this.” A man’s voice dominated the room, pushing me out of the way as the EMTs got to work.

  I crawled back, my spine hitting one of the bookcases, the entire ground littered with objects from his overturned desk. My palm flattened on something glossy.

  Maude flapped around uselessly, glaring at me as if I was the cause, constantly asking them if he was all right instead of letting them do their jobs. They tuned her out as they got him on a gurney, his breath steady, and wheeled him outside into the ambulance.

  “You saved his life.” The female EMT turned to me, the acknowledgment of who I was popping on her face like fireworks. “Oh, my goodness…My lady.” She dipped her head, her eyes widening, “I-I didn’t know it was you. Are you all right? Were you hurt?” She peered around the room at the mess. It did look like we got into a brawl. Instinctively she reached for my hand to help me rise.

  “No.” I shook my head, needing the steadiness of the ground under my arse. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, I can say he is only alive because of you.” She stared at me with awe and respect. “He owes his life to you.”

  With Lord William, saving his life would have no sway over my situation with him.

  “I’m truly honored.” She dipped then turned, following her coworkers as Maude ran outside, still hounding them about his condition, almost running into two policemen coming in.

  “Miss?” One spoke to me, but I couldn’t seem to respond. “Are you all right?”

  I sat there, the shock of what took place in the last hour, hell the last few days, settling in. I felt dazed and numb.

  “Miss, we will need to ask you some questions.”

  Nodding, I slowly started to push myself up, my sweaty palm peeling from the paper it had been pressing on. Looking down, I glanced at the items. Several pictures laid in disarray.

  What the bloody hell?

  My fingers pinched the picture, staring at it, but my brain couldn’t seem to make sense of it. I picked up the others, my breath going shallow as my pulse knocked inside my ears.

  “Wait, you look familiar.”

  “You’re Spencer Sutton, aren’t you?’

  Voices speaking to me were distant and hazy as my shaky hands held the images.

  All of them were boudoir-type pictures of a couple, the paper colored with age. It was the people in them that heaved dread in my chest. Both much younger but still clearly recognizable, plus I had seen many youthful pictures of her in photo albums and portraits placed all over the house.

  My Aunt Lauren…and Lord William.

  “Oh, god.” My hand went to my mouth, each picture showing undoubtedly their mutual attraction, each picture getting more sexually playful and kinky. A happiness I had never seen on my aunt’s face grinned salaciously back at me, enjoying everything they were doing. He was still a lot older than her even back then, but his thing for young girls was well known.

  No, that wasn’t what spiraled my heartbeat to the point my head spun. It was seeing Lord William at least twenty years younger, all his hair its original color, and his face still chiseled enough not to look like every old man.

  I had never known Lord William was a ginger. He had much more delicate features than my uncle. Pretty almost. Nothing like the man I saw now that age and horridness had twisted his soul, coloring his features.

  Gazing at his light brown eyes and reddish hair, smirking as he stared straight into the camera, I felt my stomach drop to the floor.

  Because it wasn’t Lord William who I saw staring back at me…

  It was Landen.

  Chapter 10

  The siren cut through the air, the sound bouncing off the buildings. I watched the shops and homes blur past me, the police car weaving and zipping through traffic. Tucked back in my hood, I stayed low and silent in the back seat. Because of who I was, the police escorted me to the hospital, insisting I be checked out after they spotted some bruises and rips in my clothing. The last thing I wanted was to be back in the hospital after my last time there, but I knew I couldn’t refuse. Who I was now ca
me with the extra pressure of people possibly losing their job or getting in trouble if they didn’t do everything for the princess in waiting. I was a highly fragile product.

  I was fine, but another reason for me agreeing to go was because I needed answers from Lord William.

  My fingers grazed over the set of pictures in my pocket, my stomach rolling with what I thought knew, but still was hoping I was wrong. Was Landen William’s son? I mean brown eyes weren’t uncommon even if your parents didn’t have them, right? My uncle had the reddish hair, and there was not a moment you’d ever doubt Landen was their child. But seeing William in his youth, his eyes the exact color brown as Landen, the same sharper, delicate features.

  Oh god…

  Numbly, I let the cops take me into the hospital to get checked out, with the demand they left the Royal House out of it. It took begging, then a few threats before the doctor and police nodded in agreement, not pleased at all.

  “How is Lord William?” I asked the doctor as he finished taking my pulse and examining my healing injuries from the bombing.

  “He’s steady. Awake, but we will keep him for a few days to watch him. This is his second mini-stroke this year. You saved his life.” The doctor wrapped his stethoscope over his neck, stepping back. “You are clear to go. Your wounds from the incident are healing nicely.”

  I nodded my head, sliding off the table.

  “You’ve been through a lot lately.” He scribbled on his clipboard, his gaze darting to me. “You are a very resilient young woman, Spencer. We are very lucky to have you as our princess.” He dipped his head before striding out of the room, his sentiment gutting me, my lids squeezing together.

  Guilt. Doubt. Self-hatred. I felt anything but strong. Especially when the entire nation was telling you one thing, and your heart was telling you another.

  Doubt was crippling.

  Suffocating.