To Love A Prince (True Blue Royal Book 1)

by Rachel Hauck

  Daffy fumbled to unlock the door. Ella reached to help. “I don’t know why you’d sit up all night. What if I’d gone off to London or Florida?”

  “Then Tessa would feed me more sandwiches and milk. I might have to start paying a squatter’s fee to your co-op.”

  Daffy unloaded her things in the middle of the floor. Ella excused herself for the bedroom. “I’ll start setting up.”

  “What’s going on?” Gus said. “Can I help?” This was not at all how he imagined things would go. But Daffy seemed to be processing.

  “We’re painting my room.”

  “I love to paint. I’m great with a brush.”

  “Gus, what are you doing here?” Her eyes teared up when she briefly looked his way. “Do you want some tea?”

  “That’d be lovely.” He took a seat at the island while Daffy filled the kettle.

  Ella came out and announced she was going down to meet their parents. “Text when the coast is clear.”

  “There’s no coast,” Daffy said.

  “Thank you, Ella. Say a prayer for me.” Gus seemed rather full of himself.

  When the door closed behind her, the silence between echoed. Daffy retrieved one of the bags from the lounge and took out a box of scones. Back in the kitchen, she arranged them on a plate, trying to plump up the one that was smashed.

  “I know why you’re here. At least I think I do. It can’t work, Gus. We can’t work.” Might as well lead off. Address the elephant in the room. “I won’t come between you and your parents. Not that I could. I won’t be a point of contention in House of Blue.”

  “This isn’t about my family or the House of Blue.” Gus walked around the island toward her. “It’s about you and me. Do you love me?”

  “You know I do.” She stared at her feet as a tear dropped to the tile.

  “Then come to Hadsby. To the ball. Let’s face it together.”

  “Gus, I don’t belong. I will never belong. You’re pretending because you don’t want another broken heart. Though I’m sure our brief relationship caused nothing more than a scratch.” She stepped back and raised an invisible barrier between them. “Every time your mother sees me, she’ll think, ‘There’s the girl who exposed my secret.’ Have you talked to her? Did she tell you what happened with that chap, Trent?”

  “I was supposed to meet with her, but I drove down here instead. John texted a summary. Pretty typical story. Fell in love, conceived a child, but the relationship couldn’t work.” Gus pinned her between his arms, her back against the counter. “But I care more about you and me in this moment. Daffy, after Coral left, everyone said, ‘Go after her,’ but I refused. If she didn’t want me, I wasn’t going to chase her, make a fool of myself as I begged her to take me back. I didn’t want to hear her reasons for running. Hear how I failed her. Hear how I came up short. My heart was too broken. When you told us about Leslie Ann and the likelihood of the whole world knowing, for a second, I—I was that man again. The one standing alone at the altar. I knew exactly what Mum would face. I knew exactly how she felt. Humiliated. Mixed up. Ashamed. I thought, ‘We must surround her. Be there for her. Protect her.’ Everything I needed two years ago but refused to accept. My pride…”

  “Exactly my point. You must be there for your Mum. She will not want me at her dinner table. I’ll just remind her of the pain. Besides, who knows what is to come? What will transpire with your new sister? What will happen with my career?” She fought a losing battle with the tears. Gus brushed the dew from her cheeks with a tender touch. “I don’t know what LA will say in her piece about me or the diary, but we must be prepared. I’m not playing the pity card, I promise. But let’s just face it now. We’re not meant to be. I’m not Blue material.”

  She jumped when the kettle whistled. Gus released her, shoving aside his overnight, glorious mess of hair. His blue gaze remained clear and determined. He was not fighting fair. Not at all.

  She filled their cups and set out the cream and sweetener. Taking a scone each, they wandered round to the stools.

  He bit into his scone with a nod of thanks. “I was hungry.”

  “Mum’s going to try to make puffs today,” Daffy said. “Last time she did, we could’ve used them to replace the tires on Dad’s motor.”

  Gus laughed, spewing crumbs. “I hear it’s an easy recipe.”

  “Precisely, but my mum can make dough, grease, cinnamon, and powdered sugar into a hard, chemical compound.”

  His laugh was so strong and lyrical. Daffy grabbed onto the melody and pressed record. To make a memory.

  “I want you to come to the ball,” he said.

  “Thank you, but no.”

  “Too late. You already said you would. I won’t let you off. You’re a woman of your word, are you not?”

  “Gus, when that story airs tonight, the world will explode. It may rival what happened with Coral. There is another royal child of our sovereign. Your family won’t see each other or me the same. I’m not sure I see me the same.”

  He pulled her stool toward him and lowered his forehead to hers. “I see you the same and more. Know what Holland said?”

  “I can only guess. Did it have a B-word in it?”

  “Yes—brave. She lauded you for standing in front of the Royal Family and telling them something devastating. You showed courage.” With the pad of his thumb, he caressed an escaping tear. “‘Gus, go after her,’ she said. It took me a second to get myself together, but I’m here. I love you. Daffy, I let one woman walk out of my life without a backward glance. I’m not doing it again. Not when that woman is you.”

  “Coral Winthrop was a loss.” Daffy sniffled. “Beautiful times ten. Smart. Rich. Influential.”

  “Daffy, stop.” He made a face and she felt the sting of disappointment. She was playing the martyr and her prince didn’t find it sexy. “You know how you said you probably always loved me? On the drive down here, all I could think was how I wanted to tell you everything. How I couldn’t wait to introduce you to Coral and Robbi.” His hands circled her waist. “Ask your thoughts on how we could support Mum. Tell you how you’ve lived in my heart since our first video game marathon.”

  “Where I beat you.”

  “If I recall, my controller arm was broken.”

  “Excuses will get you nowhere, Blue.”

  His kiss was sudden, tasting of tea and scones. Of life. She hooked her hands on his muscular shoulders and surrendered. She’d take what he offered because she may never be here again.

  Gus broke away and pulled her close, his breathing labored as he held her. “The silver lining of Coral leaving is I found my soul mate. I feel rather lucky. Blessed. Like the Divine cares about me. You cannot let us go because of Leslie Ann Parker’s actions. Because Mum hid a secret as large as the Hand of God. That’s on them, not you.”

  “Maybe…but my footprint is on the path. I don’t want to ruin the ball for John and Holland. For your mum. She’s going to have enough to deal with. She doesn’t need me reminding her of it all.”

  “Then I won’t go.”

  “Gus, you must. It’s your brother. You cannot shirk your responsibility.”

  “So where are we then? What? Just forget that we love each other?”

  “Take a break. Let this blow over. See how we land. But, Gus, I won’t be at that ball. Based on what happens tonight, I may never leave my apartment.”

  He released her and drank his tea. Ella texted that it was starting to rain and they were coming up. They greeted Gus and talked too loud about the rain and Mum’s puff attempts.

  Dad and Ella set up in the bedroom while Daffy walked Gus to the elevator. Instead of leaning in for a kiss, she offered her hand. “Good luck. Have fun.”

  But he held her and kissed her until she rose up on tiptoe and stepped into the elevator with him just as the doors slid closed.

  “Leslie Ann Parker dropped a royal bomb last night with her piece on The Rest of the Story. Recap on our YouTube.”

  �
��LTV-1

  “Are you KIDDING!? The Queen’s Secret American Baby? The House of Blue has entered a romantic novel cliché.”

  –The Lauchten LOUD!

  “Queen, Privy Council, PM Discuss Succession. Can It Be Challenged?”

  –The News Leader

  “The Morning Show’s Leslie Ann Parker is all guts. Wow!”

  –LauchtenlandTweet

  “Maddie, I never. Did you? Queen Catherine II has a love child.”

  –Madeline and Hyacinth Live!

  “Queen to release a statement today at 3 o’clock.”

  –The Chamber Office

  “Our requests for an interview have been denied so far. But we’ll keep trying. Until then, we wish the Family all the best as they walk through this together.”

  –Tamma Tucker News at Noon

  “Wishing Prince John and Lady Holland all the best joys of this season, especially in light of recent news. Can’t wait for the ball and the wedding!”

  –Loyal Royals Blog

  “Prince Gus set to host wedding ball for his brother. Will he go stag? Or has he found love again with Daffodil Caron, the girl on the quay?”

  –The Talk Mag

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Catherine

  She was glad to wake up in Hadsby Castle Monday morning. Perrigwynn and the surrounding city were buzzing with the news.

  Queen Catherine II’s love child.

  She suspected the media would swarm Hadsby and the hamlet by the end of the day.

  For thirty-five years she’d believed there was no option but to keep her secret. No one must know. She was a Crown Princess. An example to young women and men. The leader of a proud country.

  She had goals, plans, and dreams. An educational path to follow. Yale Law followed by a rotation of legal internships throughout Lauchtenland courts. Then a term at Haxton to study economics. Another to study agriculture.

  Since she was eighteen, Dad included her in meetings with his privy council, the Prime Minister, church leaders, and business executives.

  Then there were dances and dinners, parties and holidays in Switzerland and the south of France.

  When Dad passed her the crown, she’d be ready. But she had years and years to be a princess. Why, she’d be a grandmother herself by the time Dad went to glory. Until then, she’d make Dad proud by honoring her royal position and duty.

  Then Trent O’Shay waltzed into her life…and captured her heart, mind, soul, and strength. For all her education, no one had ever schooled her in the blinding euphoria of love.

  Her twenty-first birthday was the highlight of her life. So grown and mature, so she thought, she gave herself that night to the man she loved.

  Confessing her pregnancy was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Until she placed Scottie in Trent’s arms to raise her on his own. Then they vanished from her life and left a wound she had yet to heal.

  Last night, watching that uppity blonde Ms. Parker tell her story, HRH Queen Catherine Amelia Louisa Charlotte, her whole life came screaming into focus. By the end she was angry she’d not dealt with this long ago.

  Monday morning broke with rain, but for Catherine II, Regent, freedom beamed its brilliant light through her soul.

  The secret was out. The burden she’d carried for so many years, lifted. Even the little pains in her back were gone. Was it any wonder?

  Shoving her musings aside, she sat up, kissed her sleeping husband and wrapped up in her robe. The secret had locked her down, limited her ability to love. Because if she loved a hundred percent, Edric would’ve stumbled upon what she never wanted him to know.

  How modern she thought she was in the ’80s—but a baby out of wedlock came with a stigma. A royal baby shook governments. She should’ve just gone public. Endured the criticism and backlash. But the king insisted they deal with the matter quietly and discretely.

  Escaping to the conservatory where the rain beat a steady rhythm against the tile roof and large windows, Catherine lit the gas heater on her way to the front right corner. Pulling back the carpet, she knocked on a loose floorboard and reached inside for the small photo book where she kept three baby pictures in the plastic sleeves.

  John, Augustus…and Scottie.

  Curled under a blanket in a wide, mohair chair, she turned on the lamp and studied their sweet baby faces.

  Three babies in four years. She developed a soul of steel to manage it all. Scottie’s baby picture was the only one she possessed until Trent sent her a photo of “our” girl a few months before her sixteenth birthday—which was a big deal in America.

  The image of the beautiful young woman she’d given life to but did not know had sliced her heart, and she’d retreated to weep in private. That’s when she discovered poor Daffy Caron in her dressing room in the blue gown.

  Catherine looked between the photo of Scottie and John. Now that the truth stood in the light, she could see the similarities in her children’s cherub faces. Scottie and John had the same eyes. She shared a chin with Gus. Minus the whiskers.

  “It’s cold in here.” Edric wandered in with a shock of dark bedhead, his hands tuck in his robe pockets.

  “I just lit the heater.”

  He perched on the edge of the couch with a sigh. “Another rainy day. I was hoping to hike.”

  “The meteorologist assured us the weather will clear by midday.”

  He smiled. But not much. “What’s in your hand?”

  Catherine snapped the photo book to her breast, so used to hiding the truth. After a moment she offered it to her husband. “Baby photos. All three.”

  “She’s a pretty little thing.” He glanced at Catherine. “Is this your only one?”

  “Until right before she turned sixteen. I’d asked Trent not to send me anything. No photos, updates, or anecdotes. We’d made our decision, and playing long-distance Mum would only cause me to doubt.”

  When she met Edric, she’d told him of Trent. The one-paragraph version. “There was a chap. I loved him, but he went back to America.”

  “The boys seemed to take it in stride,” Edric said, handing back the photos. “John’s worried about succession, though I wonder if he’s not a bit relieved. He has an out, should he want one.”

  “Why would he? He’s been raised and trained for this. Holland will be the perfect partner. Besides, I determined the patent letters. He is my successor. If he wants out, Gus is next up.”

  Edric moved to the window. “Do you want to see her?” He spoke to the glass, not his wife.

  “The question is, does she want to see me? I couldn’t tell from Leslie Ann’s story if Scottie even knows.” She nor Trent made an on-camera appearance. “If so, this must be terribly unsettling for her.”

  “What about him? Trent.”

  “Do I want to see him? Not particularly.”

  Edric returned to the couch. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, Kate?”

  “To let her go, I had to let it all go. I felt I was doing what was best for her, for the Family—”

  “All hail the House of Blue.”

  “Don’t. You know what a tenuous throne we sit upon. We’re a lasting royal family despite our detractors and enemies. In 1986, the monarchy was stronger than ever. I was part of that and had a duty to fulfill.”

  “After we were married? Why not share with me?”

  “I don’t know.” Catherine set the baby book on the end table. “I selfishly wanted you to see me as I was before she was born.”

  “Oh, Kate—”

  “Room for me?” Gus hesitated then entered, joining his father on the couch. “I want Daffy to come to the ball, but she won’t because she feels she betrayed you.”

  Catherine focused on her younger son. “She’s a smart girl.”

  “No, Mum, she’s brave. She kept your secret for eighteen years. It’d still be a secret if her sister hadn’t found the diary and given it to Leslie Ann. Let’s put the blame where it belongs. On—”

  “Me,” Cat
herine said. “I know. I should’ve been honest with you all.” She passed the book of photos to her youngest. “Your sister’s baby picture. You have the same chin. While Ms. Parker handled her discovery poorly, I am the one who hid the truth from my husband, my sons, my country.”

  “So why does Daffy have to bear the shame alone? The guilt?” Gus lingered over Scottie’s picture. “She looks sweet.”

  “Should we invite Scottie to the wedding?” Edric said. “Meet her?”

  Catherine shook her head. “Let’s not stir the waters. We can call Trent later, see how things stand with the American side of things.” She tossed off her lap blanket. “But for now, you chaps must excuse me. I’ve an errand to run.”

  * * *

  Daffy

  Her flat smelled of paint mingled with the fresh dewy air of spring. The weakening rain released the city, allowing a streak of sunlight to break in.

  Daffy raised another bedroom window and scooted her bed into place, careful of the newly painted wall. The apartment literally rocked yesterday with music, laughter, and Mum’s baking.

  Her puff recipe came out like chewing gum this time.

  “Morwena.” Dad tossed the entire lot into the trash bin. “Just follow the recipe. Don’t change it.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Ella came up with the Daffy 3.0 slogan. “New career, new you. Maybe a new country.”

  Sunday evening they had ordered pizza and watched The Rest of the Story. It was all Daffy could do to sit still and not shout at the telly every time Leslie Ann opened her mouth.

  As they thought, the ambitious presenter unleashed the hounds. She actually began the piece holding up Daffy’s diary, My Life with the Prince, and credited her with exposing this royal scandal.