by Geneva Lee
“She needs to tell him first,” Belle remarked, surprising the doctors.
“The King isn’t aware…” Doctor Rolland trailed off when he realized he was voicing his thoughts.
“Not yet. He’s been busy. It is my body, after all.” I clung to my bravado like a shield. The truth was that I didn’t need anyone else telling me that I needed to come clean.
“And we will respect patient privilege regardless of who the patient is,” Ball said significantly.
“Of course.” Rolland agreed, but he looked uneasy about the prospect.
“I will tell him. Tonight,” I added. “May I call you to schedule the date tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Ball made a note on his clipboard, then shoved his pen in his pocket. “The nurse will schedule our next visit at your home, and she has Mary’s medication. Make certain that Henry reads through the side effects, please.”
I’d nearly forgotten about picking it up. I felt more like a bobblehead than a human as I nodded again. It was all I could do nod and accept what was coming.
Belle walked beside me in the hall, taking the medication the nurse tried to hand me, and forcing answers from my lips to her questions. Tuesday. The doctor would come exactly two weeks from now. Yes, I had the office number to schedule the birth. No, I didn’t have any questions.
I had answers—answers I didn’t want.
“Clara, everything is going to turn out all right,” Belle promised as we reached the waiting room. “You and Alexander are fighters. This baby will have that in spades.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Georgia assessed me as we met her in the lobby. It wouldn’t escape her notice that I was upset, but could she tell something was wrong?
“Baby will be here before she knows and she wishes Alexander was here for the scan,” Belle lied smoothly.
I could tell from the way her eyes pinched that Georgia didn’t believe her, but she didn’t press the matter and I didn’t tell her the truth. Maybe we weren’t friends, after all.
* * *
I went straight to Alexander’s office when we reached Buckingham, bypassing Belle’s offer to have lunch in favor of getting the bad news out of the way. I’d dreaded telling Alexander, but I no longer had any capacity to worry about anything other than the baby. His door was closed.
I could risk walking in on a confidential discussion with the Prime Minister or I could wait outside. Seconds ticked by like days. Of course, now that I was ready, I would have to wait. When the door finally opened, I was surprised to see Henry standing before me.
“Oh, I thought you were meeting with Prime Minister Clark,” I said to Alexander, not containing the bitterness I felt at discovering his important meeting wasn’t what I’d thought.
“He did,” Henry assured me. “We were discussing young Sarah.”
“What about her?” I asked carefully.
“It’s possible she will come to stay with Mary and I for a while. If she’ll agree…”
“Naturally.” Mentally, I began packing her bags. I didn’t care if she demanded the Crown Jewels, I’d agree to almost anything to get her out of here.
“Your appointment went well?”
I was still caught in the fantasy of watching a car drive away with Sarah, so I merely mumbled, “Yes.”
“You must need to speak with Alexander. I’ll be going.”
His farewell jogged me from my daydream. “Wait!” Opening my bag, I retrieved the bottle of pills that I’d been given for Mary. “As promised.”
“She’s an angel, Alexander,” Henry called into the office. He took the medication and kissed my cheek. “Get some rest. You seem tired. This will all be past you soon.”
Alexander didn’t look up as I entered the room. He looked weighted to the spot by thoughts. I wished I could lift that burden from his shoulders. Then again, maybe I could. There was a place we could go together to be free for a few moments. Desire coiled at my core at the thought of release.
But once I revealed what was going on with the pregnancy, I’d be lucky if he touched me. There was no way he would accept my submission.
“What did Clark have to say?” I asked, moving to rub his shoulders. He leaned into my touch, his groan half pleasure, half frustration.
“The meeting lasted five minutes. I should have come with you.”
I was glad he hadn’t. I needed to tell him before he found out that way, but I kept this to myself.
“How was the doctor? I’m sorry that I wasn’t there, Poppet.” He caught my hand and pressed it to his lips.
I decided to work my way into my confession. “He thinks we should schedule my cesarean,” I said as his mobile buzzed.
“Is that necessary? We’d discussed trying for natural birth. The risks—” He was cut off by another buzz of his mobile.
“That’s the thing—”
He began to read his mobile. “Christ, I’m sorry. Give me a moment.”
I knew the small number of people who had his direct number meant that every call was important, and clearly someone was trying to reach him. I also felt like I was dangling off a cliff one-handed, however, and waiting for him to rescue me.
The conversation was short and Alexander’s voice brutal.
“What’s wrong?”
He held up a finger and I fell silent as he pulled up the message he’d been sent. I leaned over his shoulder to see the screen as a news story flashed onto the screen. Reading the headline, I forgot why I was here. My fingers clamped onto his shoulders as my brain start spinning. We both knew what we had to do next.
Or more importantly, who we had to call.
Chapter 22
Alexander
I read the headline over and over, trying to process the betrayal. In the end, it wasn’t all that difficult. Scanning the attached article, I discovered that the press had managed to get most of the facts correct in the few hours since Sarah’s post had gone viral. It would be a refreshing change if the news wasn’t intended to divide my family further.
“How could she?” Clara breathed over my shoulder.
“You wanted to tell her,” I reminded her flatly.
None of us had told Sarah the truth. She’d overheard it and the first thing she’d done was spill the secret to everyone who would listen. It was proof that we couldn’t trust her.
It took a few minutes before Norris arrived. Everyone but Brex was gathered within the hour. I considered calling him. I needed people I could trust, but amends would have to be made before then. There wasn’t time for atonement now.
Clara sat in the corner chair quietly, watching the scene unfold before her.
“Who allowed Sarah to be on social media?” I demanded.
Norris stopped mid-pace and looked down his nose at me. “It is not forbidden. It’s understood.”
His implication was clear: it was another matter we’d failed to discuss with her. Another way we’d failed to prepare for her return to her previous life. In the time that she’d begun, social media had morphed from innocent pastime to a megaphone for the loudest voices. It skewed elections and connected terrorists. The family had taken a proactive stance against it. There were official channels. None of us had our own accounts.
Which is why none of us had thought to check if Sarah had. We’d handed her a phone without realizing it was more dangerous than a loaded gun.
“Has anyone contacted Anders?” Clara asked as I stewed over this.
“He’s unreachable,” Norris said regretfully. “She posted late last night. It took the larger outlets longer to get their stories out, but it gave everyone plenty of time to track him down.”
“They’re in Silverstone?”
I loved my wife for caring so much, but I hated that I had to watch her care about the man who would steal her from me without a second thought.
“The good news is that they assumed he went back to Silverstone,” Norris informed us all. “He stayed in London with a friend. That’s the most we know. We’
re attempting to track his mobile signal.”
So, he’d had the good sense to turn off his phone—that was something. He had some experience with the paparazzi as a driver, but it wouldn’t prepare him to handle how frenzied they could become. He might be my brother, but his unofficial status meant he wasn’t protected by the various legislations that had been enacted to keep the leeches at a slightly safer distance. That would have to be rectified. If the stubborn arse would finally allow me to intervene on his behalf. Now that the world knew the truth, he would have to accept that.
“We could deny it,” Georgia said. “The press spin wild stories all the time.”
That was true, but it had been all too easy for the intrepid reporters to dig up enough facts to make it a more than viable theory. Anderson’s mother had worked for my father after my mother’s death. She’d disappeared only a few months before giving birth. Then I’d been photographed brawling with him weeks ago. It all pointed to the truth.
“We could, but we’ll never kill the story,” I said.
“We can contain it more by making it a non-story,” Norris said.
I flattened my palms on my desk, drawing a deep breath. There was only one way to do that. “It’s not a story if we acknowledge it.”
“Like hell it isn’t!” Georgia’s eyes flashed to Clara for support, but she was absorbed with her mobile.
“Scandal is like a dead body. The smell dissipates once you deal with it,” Norris explained. “It only lingers if you try to ignore it.”
Clara hadn’t chimed in on this charming analogy. Rather she was looking increasingly upset, her hand rubbing the baby absently as her thumb scrolled through her screen.
“This is unbelievable.” She slammed her phone onto the table in disgust.
“If only,” I muttered. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about this at all.”
“This paper is reporting that we chose Anders for the Games because he blackmailed us,” she huffed, clearly offended on his behalf. “They’ve already forgotten that he was one of the most successful race car drivers we have. He was famous before we even approached him! If we’d left him out then they’d be saying we were trying to hide it.”
I didn’t point out to my wife that if she hadn’t asked him to participate in the Games, this likely would never have happened. I would have gone on keeping my father’s secret. No one would be any the wiser and Anderson Stone wouldn’t be in hiding somewhere in London. He wouldn’t even know and he wouldn’t be in love with my wife.
The trouble had started entirely with the Games, a fact I was not going to bring up.
“You’re quiet,” she accused when I didn’t respond to her rant.
“Trying to figure out what to do.” Standing, I crossed to her and took her phone. “The stories are going to drive you crazy.”
“Keep it.” She glared at the phone like it was a snake. “I’m tired of the lies.”
That was the trouble with lies built on truth, they wounded deeper than deceit itself. We were all reeling, because we’d each participated in this cover-up and we’d all be held up to scrutiny.
“We need to issue a press release,” I decided.
“Not another press conference,” Georgia grumbled.
“I think we’ve all had enough of those. A press release, but not until we find Anders.”
Norris and Georgia left to check the progress on finding Anders, leaving me with my wife. I knelt before her, resting my cheek on her lap.
“Remember when I proposed?” I asked softly.
“You offered me all of London.” I could hear the smile in her voice. It was reassuring that she still found that memory joyful.
“Have you changed your mind yet?”
“Not yet,” she promised, brushing my hair from my forehead. “We’ll deal with it.”
“How?”
“Like we always do. We’ll confront it and we’ll overcome it.”
“That will take forever,” I pointed out. We were still weathering the public outcry over Sarah. At least in her case, most people were more interested in watching her every move as she adapted to life after her coma. I could only hope Anders didn’t provide such colourful entertainment for those that would start watching him.
“You didn’t let me tell you the rest of the plan,” she said. “While we deal with it, we have lots and lots of sex.”
“This plan is looking up.” I nuzzled closer to where she carried our child. “And a baby—which is the best distraction.”
“And a baby,” she echoed. “A distraction for the press?”
“No,” I said sharply. That thought had never occurred to me. I would never use my children that way. “It’s the best distraction for me—holding our child, watching you care for her.”
“Or him.”
“Or him,” I agreed, albeit grudgingly.
“Belle likes William,” Clara said, filling my mind with prettier thoughts than I could, “and Alice.”
“William or Alice. The baby will be here soon.” I turned my face up to her. “You were telling me that the doctor wanted to schedule the cesarean.”
“Yes, but it’s weeks away.” She waved it off. “We can do it later.”
“It can’t be here soon enough,” I said and meant it.
* * *
Once Clara had taken my anger from nuclear to simmering, I decided I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. Anders hadn’t been located yet, but I knew exactly where the other party in question was. A little past noon, Clara laid down for a nap. I fought the urge to follow her into our bedroom and lose myself in her for a few hours.
I made it to Sarah’s room before I remembered that I’d asked Norris to place her elsewhere. Whipping my mobile out, I dialed him.
“There’s still no news,” he answered.
“I presumed when I hadn’t heard anything,” I said dryly. “Where did you put my darling sister?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I could see him, wherever he was, coming to complete attention. He must have known I would eventually hunt her down. It was time she faced what she’d done.
“Norris, tell me where she is.”
“I will take you to her,” he offered.
“You’re busy, and I am in complete control. I only need to speak with her.”
“Alexander—”
“I’ll call Georgia.” I hung up on him, which meant I was on borrowed time. Wherever he’d stashed her, he’d be on his way. I’d played the odds and headed out of the North Wing. It was unlikely that he’d put her near my family after last night’s confrontation. That limited where he might place her. The staff rooms were out of the question. I could only imagine the damage she could do spinning stories to the employees.
Georgia was on my side. I knew because she answered with three words. “The Belgian Suite.”
“Thank you.” I ended the call and stuck my mobile in my pocket, ignoring an incoming call. He wasn’t going to talk me out of going there.
I had no doubt that Sarah had insisted on the Belgian Suite, which was reserved for important foreign dignitaries, impeccably decorated, and well-secured.
If she thought that good locks would keep me out, she would find out how wrong she was. But she didn’t try to keep me out. She was waiting for me, doors unlocked.
“It took longer for you to come after me than I thought.” She sipped tea at the small breakfast table.
“Get dressed,” I snapped. “It’s disgraceful.”
“There’s our father.” Her hand cupped her chin and she stared at me like a welcome ghost. “He’s coming out more and more, isn’t he? He would have tracked me down ages ago, though.”
“You’re leaving,” I told her. “It’s up to you if you do it in your robe or not.”
She pulled the lapels of her red silk dressing gown together and frowned. “Where will I go? How will you control me?”
“I obviously can’t control you,” I ground out. That was the
problem.
“That’s where you aren’t like him.” Her head fell back and she stared into the ceiling like she was watching her memories. “He never realized that. He hated that.”
“You were sixteen then. He could control you and—”
“He was our father. Blah. Blah. That’s a tired excuse. You’re the King now, Alexander, or so everyone insists on telling me. I have to admit your wife seems to be the one in charge.” She dropped her gaze, peering at me with a poisoned smile. “Is that why you have to tie her up? So you’re in control of someone?”
She dangled the insults overhead waiting for me to snap at them, but I didn’t. “I’m not playing a child’s game. These are lives you’re messing with, and it ends now.”
“It ends when I say it ends.” She slammed her fist on the table, sending her tea cup toppling from its saucer.
“You said it yourself: I am King now, Sarah. If you won’t respect it, I will enforce it until you do.”
All hope I’d had that my sister would return to us and bring our family closer was gone. I held no illusions anymore. She shattered them and scattered the pieces behind her. I wouldn’t allow her to break anything else.
“There are real issues facing this family. I can’t put up with your tantrums.”
“What issues?” she cried. “I don’t warrant knowing, do I? You keep saying family like I’m a part of it, but you don’t want me here.”
“You don’t have the privilege of knowing. You want respect? Trust? Earn them and stop acting like a spoiled brat.”
“Admit it,” she said. “When I woke up…”
“I wished you hadn’t,” I roared, “and now I wish we’d let you go ten years ago.”
“Alexander,” Norris said sharply from behind me, but my words had struck their target.
“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Sarah screamed, sobs wracking her body.
I searched for guilt, but all I felt was the cold edge of anger driven by purpose. If Sarah wouldn’t grow up, I would force her to—there was no other option.