by E V Darcy
‘As punishment, Edward made the jeweller cut and polish it up and hand it over to ten-year-old William as a reward. Edward told him to one day give it to the woman he loved. He did. And when my great-grandmother died, when my grandfather was just a teen, William gave it to my grandfather, telling him to do the same. When he met my grandmother years later, he knew she was the one it was meant for.’
‘That’s beautiful, Roman,’ Hattie managed to get out, a sudden lump of emotion filling her throat, knowing she’d never have such a love story as those two women. No, there’d be no historic tales told of her and Roman by their grandchildren or great-grandchildren. She dreaded to think what they might say of them.
‘I know it’s not as fancy as your sister’s’—Hattie huffed, nothing was as fancy as Victoria’s La Larme Bleue—‘but it holds significance for me, for my family…’ He looked at her expectantly.
She blinked, glancing to the ring and back to him before her eyes widened in surprise.
‘You want me to wear your grandma’s ring?’
‘I know it’s only a third of a carat—’
‘Roman, it’s not the size. It’s a beautiful ring and the story behind it is wonderful and deep, and, well, loving.’ She heard the wistfulness in her voice and hoped Roman didn’t pick up on it. But she wanted to weep at the thought of this precious stone, one that had been worn by women who had been loved so deeply, suddenly gracing her finger. A woman who was merely a means to an end, a woman who wasn’t loved and cherished as they had been, but simply one carrying another heir of the line; surely, she shouldn’t be allowed to wear such an amazing piece of history?
Roman seemed to draw himself up at her words; straightening his back, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin. He took a deep breath before he stepped back in front of her and slowly lowered himself to one knee.
Hattie hadn’t thought her eyes could grow any larger, but apparently they could, because right now she thought they were going to pop out of her head as she realised exactly what Roman was about to do—again!
‘I know my word doesn’t mean much to you right now, Henrietta,’ he said as he got down on one knee and took her left hand in his. ‘But there was a time that you trusted me more than anyone else in the world, and I know I ruined that. I know that was my fault, and I can never apologise enough. No words will ever convey the regret I have for what I did.’
Hattie frowned at his words; did he mean for sleeping with her or for the aftermath?
‘But I will earn your trust again,’ he continued. ‘I will ensure that you never have to second guess me. Henrietta, I want to be your friend again.’
Hattie’s breath hitched at the thought; her heart longed for her friend to come back to her, to know him once more as she had so long ago.
‘I promise I will never cheat on you, Henrietta. I promise I will ensure that I am worthy of you in every way possible. I can’t change how we got here, but I can promise this; I will do everything to make sure you never want for anything, physically or emotionally, and I beg that you will give me a chance. A fair chance, Henrietta. That we can work together and be a united front, not just to the world and your grandfather, but to our families and our children.’
Hattie raised a brow at the word children.
‘Children?’ Her voice was high and squeaky, but the idea of Roman wanting more children with her, of giving her his own child to carry filled her with both a sense of desire and deep-seated panic.
‘Well, twins do run in the family…’
‘Twins?’ she croaked as the colour drained from her face. He chuckled, actually chuckled at her reaction.
‘Henrietta Constantine Snape, I know that our situation isn’t perfect, but I promise I will never give you a reason to doubt me. Will you give me the chance to prove that to you?’
Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes dropped from his to the ring and back again. Why was he doing this now? Why was he making these sweeping declarations? Did he honestly mean what he said or was it all another ruse? What about what he’d said earlier, about her name and money?
Oh, but she wanted him to mean it, wanted him to mean every word he said. She wanted them and so much more from him, but how did she know that he wasn’t just saying these things to sweeten everything between them? So he didn’t lose the chance to use her name and fortune to his own advantage?
She swallowed and slowly licked her lips as she considered her options.
‘Roman,’ she said his name so cautiously, as if it could somehow trigger an explosion. She didn’t want him suddenly retracting his promises, she’d like to get to know her old friend, but what if she ended up being hurt all over again?
‘All I’m asking for is a chance, Henrietta, a chance to prove to you that I can be more than a husband in title.’
She searched his eyes, looking for the truth within them.
‘But why do you want to?’ she asked. ‘And you never answered me; why would you and I be different to you and Fiona?’
Now it was his turn to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed and his tongue sneaked out to wet his lips as he considered her.
‘Honestly? I’ve missed our friendship,’ he finally admitted. ‘It is one of my deepest regrets that I hurt you in so many ways.’
There! There it was, a flicker of truth within his eyes. It filled Hattie with a hint of hope that if nothing more, they could become friends at least in all this.
Friends that kiss? she wondered as her eyes fell of their own violation to his lips. What about ones that make love, hard and fast in VP offices? She blinked rapidly, trying to silence her stupid brain.
‘Okay,’ she whispered, not trusting her voice to go any louder. ‘I’d like to be your friend too.’
His smile was beatific; it lit up his eyes, captivating Hattie in their glow. She offered him her own tentative smile before both of them dropped their gaze to watch as Roman slowly eased the Tyrrell Red Diamond on her ring finger.
When it was nestled where it was supposed to be, a surprisingly perfect fit, he raised her hand to his lips and sealed his promises with a kiss.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED.
Cheating the System Sample
The Royals of Avalone - Inheritance Part 2
AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER NOW
* * *
Mr Daven eyed Henrietta speculatively over the rim of his glasses.
‘I just want to clarify,’ the old solicitor said slowly, his grey bushy brows lowering so much they almost touched his glasses. ‘You want a will drawn up, one that says everything is left to your current unborn babe upon your death and not to Mr Tyrrell, your betrothed?’
Hattie took a deep breath, her sweating hands clutching at the hem of her skirt just out of the man’s view, and nodded far more confidently than she really felt.
A swarm bees buzzed around inside her head while her stomach was seemingly being attacked by a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around without rhyme or reason. The sick and discombobulated feeling she’d woken with that morning hadn’t left her, even after she’d deposited the contents of her stomach several times into the bottom of the toilet.
And having Mr Daven sizing her up through his beady, ice cold blue eyes—that reminding her so much of her grandfather—wasn’t helping to settle her mind or her stomach. Nor was the constant doubt swirling around her helping.
This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?
When Pippa had suggested denying Roman access to anything she inherited, even upon pain of death, Hattie had thought it a good idea. If her money was indeed what Roman was after by marrying her, it would be one last way to give him the finger. Even Victoria and Alexi had wholeheartedly agreed. But without her sisters to back her up, to fuel her ire, she was starting to waiver.
Her fortune would far outstrip anything he had access to, and he would be the one raising the child in her absence. Even if he passed the job off to an army of nannies. And nannies weren’t cheap, especia
lly the best ones…
The thought of her child being raised by strangers, passed from one nanny to the next as they outgrew their role, then being packed up and sent off to boarding school as quickly as Roman could get them there, made her heart sink. That was exactly the life she didn’t want for her child, after all she’d lived part of it. And growing up away from your family at such an age was just too difficult, even if they had a tight clique of friends around them. Eventually.
Hattie wasn’t the most maternal person, she’d never desired children, but if she was having one, she was damn well going to love it and raise it herself! No boarding schools, no gifted programme, no nannies. Okay, maybe a nanny—no definitely a nanny. But if she wasn’t able to be there to see to that, there was only one thing she could do to ensure they weren’t passed from nanny to nanny to boarding school…
‘I also want to make my sister, Lady Victoria Georgina Blake, the legal guardian of my child in such an instance as well.’
That comment made the solicitor’s bushy brows fly up into his hairline. Mr Daven blinked a few times before taking a deep breath.
‘I have to say, you Snape women really know how to keep an old man on his toes.’ He shook his head and carefully removed his glasses, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips as he considered her. She was tempted to ask what he saw, but there was one more thing she needed to say and she had to get it out there before she lost her nerve.
‘I also want a pre-nuptial agreement,’ she told the solicitor in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t want him to have access to anything I inherit or any assets I purchase with said inheritance; not now or in the event of my death or if we should divorce—no matter the reason for the split.’
‘Of course you do, and that I wholeheartedly agree with.’ Mr Daven slid his glass back onto his nose. ‘Your sister’s demands of her husband having access to everything was extremely vexing, I must say. But I do believe he is a lord now. What times we live in.’
‘Yes, well,’ Hattie managed, unsure what to say to such a comment. The announcement of her brother-in-law’s rise into the ranks of aristocracy—even of the lowest order—over the weekend, had given the country a sense of relief. It seemed the nation of Avalone wasn’t ready to see their Royal Family, even lowly members such as the Snape Ladies, giving up their titles.
Although, if Dick had hoped that releasing such news—against Cormac and Victoria’s wishes—would distract from story of her surprise pregnancy and Roman’s very public faux pas of dumping Fiona, they had been most certainly dashed.
Every day—a few times a day, or maybe a few times an hour—there was a new story or article popping up on the internet. The British tabloids were having a field day. Two Avalonian royal spectacles in six months; was the pristine monarchy of Avalone crumbling? Was the snobby, conceited, high and mighty, pretentious nation finally getting their just deserts?
Strippers and Bastards had been the headline on the worst of all the British Tabloids, The Herald, the morning after Cormac’s Lordship had been declared, dragging the story of her poor brother-in-law’s days as a stripper back out into the open. Although she secretly had to admit, she rather enjoyed the pictures every time they totted them out. She’d never tell Victoria such a thing, but Cormac was a hottie.
She briefly wondered how Roman’s body had developed over the years since she’d last seen him topless.
‘None of this is complicated,’ Mr Daven told her, interrupting her daydreams before they could start. ‘I can have it all ready for you in a day or two. You’ll both need to be present to sign the forms for the pre-nuptial, of course.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘I’m assuming your betrothed doesn’t yet know about this?’
Hattie’s tongue curled over her lower lip as she shook her head.
‘I see. Well, the will can be witnessed independently; that doesn’t need Mr Tyrrell, nor does he need to present for your guardianship wishes to be noted—but I would suggest you give both your sister and your fiancé prior warning in that regard.’
Hattie nodded. That was not a conversation she was looking forward to, either with Victoria or Roman. Her sister was probably going to say that Roman had just as much right as she did to the child; especially as they were both related only via aunt and uncle status. Not that anyone else would know that, of course. Victoria had sworn to take the secret to the grave, Cormac said a long as she stopped staring at him like he as evil incarnate, he’d also keep his mouth shut. She planned on avoiding him for the rest of her life, hottie or not.
‘I would be remiss in my job if I didn’t tell you that if you do perish before Mr Tyrrell, he would have a good case to legally challenge your wishes, being the child’s father and all. It may very well be the case of him gaining custody regardless of your wishes based simply on that fact alone. Especially if there are no other legal reasons for him to be kept from his own son or daughter. Your own wishes would not supersede the legal parental right he has.’
Hattie fought the twitch in her eye. Even in her death, the truth of her child’s paternity could never be known. She knew she needed to keep the truth of Jensen’s role in her pregnancy from the world, even if death if her child was to keep her money, but it didn’t stop the guilt, that seemed to be her constant companion recently for boring a hole in her soul. Would it be a yoke she’d wear for the rest of her life? Perhaps one day she’d wake up and begin to believe the lie herself? Was that when the gnawing at her chest would stop? Would that be when she’d be able to look in the mirror again without disgust staring back at her?
‘I understand, and thank you for the warning,’ she managed to get out. She cleared her throat with a little cough, hoping to dislodge the ever present lump that seemed to sit there, choking her. ‘But I’m sure Roman wouldn’t go against my wishes.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Mr Daven nodded his head as if he’d heard such a thing before. He probably thought Roman was only marrying her for duty’s sake, or perhaps that Dick was forcing them to wed because of the situation she found herself in. He more than likely assumed that as soon as Roman had the chance he’d bolt, leaving the kid behind.
Such a thought made her angry. She wanted to jump up and shout at the top of her lungs that he wasn’t like that; that Roman hadn’t just agreed to take on the role of father to his brother’s child but had actually been the one to come up with the idea! And all to save her from making the difficult choice she had been facing; becoming a vagrant as she moved between her sister’s homes, staying for as long as they’d have her, scrambling for work when she could, or turning to Ol’ Dick who would demand her unwavering obedience in return for room and board.
She suppressed a shudder at the latter part of the thought. Couch surfing she could deal with, but she couldn’t stomach the mere idea of being beholden to her grandfather.
He may not yet be in her best books, but she couldn’t deny Roman had saved her. He could have easily sent her away from his office last week, simply told her she’d made her bed and thus it was time to lie in it. But he hadn’t. And he would never receive the recognition he deserved in stepping forward and saving her and her child from either destitution or the King. No one would ever know of his sacrifice and Hattie’s heart ached at the injustice of it.
But, at the same time, she didn’t see Roman as a paternal figure, not in the sense of being there for the day to day raising of a child. The idea of him trying to change a nappy was laughable. The image of him tenderly cradling their baby as he fed them a bottle…
The ache in Hattie’s chest intensified. The picture sprung up so clearly in her mind; there was no awkwardness as he stood there, gently swaying as the baby guzzled their breakfast. She had no idea why her mind made him shirtless in such a scenario, but she wasn’t complaining…
‘However, if he does,’ Mr Daven continued, jarring her from her thoughts. ‘And he wins guardianship, who do you wish to be trustee of the child’s assets? I’m assuming not your betrothed?’
‘No, my other si
ster, Lady Philippa Patricia Snape will be the trustee, even if Victoria is given guardianship.’ There was no one else Hattie would trust other than Pippa to handle any money matters if she wasn’t around to do it. Pippa had sat and explained all her options to her yesterday and even if Hattie hadn’t been impressed with her sister’s knowledge of the system, the `fact she ran the country’s largest accounting firm clearly put her to the forefront for the role.
Mr Daven made a note on his notepad as he muttered, ‘I see. Well, seeing as your grandfather handled your wedding announcement—I thought that very elegant, by the by—I think we have everything sorted. I’ll get the drafts to Maya shortly, and once she has them typed out we’ll get Roxanne to arrange an appointment for you, Mr Tyrrell, and two witnesses to attend the signing. I suggest they not be anyone you have named today.’ He gazed at her pointedly and Hattie nodded quickly.
‘Should Mr Tyrrell wish to have his own legal team look over the pre-nuptial—which I strongly advise he does,’ Mr Daven told her as he put his glasses back on. ‘Then we can arrange to have that sent over to them before we meet again.’ The Solicitor pressed a button on his desk and called Maya in. ‘Meanwhile, we can get the paperwork started on getting you access to your own trust fund for now. Just a few forms to sign and you’ll be free to go.’
As her curly signature flowed from the pen, Hattie decided the guilty ache was never going to go away.
About the Author
E. V. Darcy is a former high school teacher with a Bachelor of Arts in Imaginative Writing from Liverpool John Moores University.