Broken and Beautiful

by Ryan, Kendall

  I felt her eyes on me before I saw her, and when I turned, she was indeed watching me, her lips curled into a sneer that did nothing to mask her beauty. I tugged self-consciously at the jacket and made a beeline for my room.

  “Oh my, was there an accident?” she called after me.

  I stopped, my resolve hardening at the venom in her words. I couldn’t run away from Pepper Lockwood. She’d insinuated herself into Alexander’s life, and even though I couldn’t understand for the life of me why anyone wanted her around, I knew she was here to stay. “I need to get dressed for dinner.”

  “You might consider showering as well.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like cheap sex.”

  “A smell I’m sure you’d recognize,” I said with a smile.

  “Clara, dear, stupid girl, do you still think you can play this game?” She walked toward me, her thin arms braced against her chest as she appraised my appearance. “You think we’re eating you alive. I can see it in your eyes. You look just like that poor fox they loosed this morning, hopeful but terrified. But I’m here to tell you: we haven’t even begun to feast on you yet. We’re not even past the appetizer course.”

  I swallowed against the rawness mounting in my throat. I couldn’t let her get to me, and I certainly couldn’t let her see me fazed. “I know you like your games. Surround a weaker creature and call it sport, but there’s something you need to know: I’m not the fox.”

  “You aren’t the hunter either.” Pepper’s nostrils flared as she spoke. I’d hit my mark. She wanted me to roll over, but I was no longer willing to wait for her to pounce.

  “Neither are you. Neither of us belong here, Pepper. But the one that gets to stay is the one he chooses.” I emphasized my words carefully, hoping she’d take my hint, but she remained unmoved.

  “And you think that will be you.” She giggled at this, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder, the essence of poise and femininity no matter how much pressure I applied.

  “I’m the one sharing his bed,” I said without missing a beat.

  “You’re the one he’s fucking. Did he take you out to a field?” Her eyes travelled once more over my disheveled form. “You think if you let him shag you like an animal, he won’t get bored?”

  “Trust me—” I tilted my chin up in a show of a pride “—he’s not bored.”

  “Not yet.” Her words were clipped as she shrugged off my bravado.

  “And you’re the one who can keep him interested?” I guessed.

  “There are expectations for Alexander. A whole country’s expectations. That means a lot more than some piece of ass he picked up for fun. Alexander knows his time is running out. That’s why he’s slumming.”

  “Slumming?” I actually laughed at this, ignoring how it echoed through the hall. “Pepper, dear, stupid girl, you have the name and the connections, but don’t ever forget that I have a trust fund that could buy your family three times over.”

  Pepper’s eyes rolled back against her perfectly fake lashes. “Discussing money is so crass.”

  “People who have none usually think that,” I said. “But that’s what is in this for you, isn’t it? Validity for your old family name. A chance to prove your titles and history still mean something to someone. To anyone.”

  She took a step back as though I’d struck her, and this time there was no doubt I’d hit my target. “And what do you have to offer? You’re only a little girl who got rich on internet dating.”

  I blinked at this, unable to fathom how this couldn’t be obvious to her. How could these people be so incredibly broken that they couldn’t recognize the one thing a person craved? The one thing a person needed? It could only be the lack of it that accounted for their utter ignorance on the matter.

  But my silence inspired her, and she laughed once more. “Wait—love? You think you can give him love! I knew you were delusional, but that’s actually pathetic.”

  I’d never actually considered punching someone before. At least not seriously, but I thought about it now, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “My relationship with Alexander is between him and me, and your opinion isn’t welcome. So please feel free to shut the hell up.”

  “Believe what you want,” she said with a dismissive wave of her manicured hand. “But consider this a friendly warning: Alexander isn’t capable of love or true emotion, and he’ll only destroy you. You’re already drowning in his darkness, Clara, and someday when he has to face himself and the man he will become, he’ll need someone at his side who can’t be pulled under.”

  And she believed she could be that person. Maybe she was right. I’d seen the darkness she spoke of flashing behind his eyes, felt it when his dominance took over. Could he ever be happy without breaking me further than I was already broken? But she was wrong about one thing. Alexander felt things, even when he allowed his darker emotions to cloud his perception of reality. That passionate loathing that he felt toward himself and his place in the world proved he did feel, perhaps more acutely than any of us. A woman like Pepper couldn’t understand that. She couldn’t see that light could bring him out of his prison. The realization felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest—only to be anchored to my feet. While I didn’t believe him incapable of love, I wasn’t certain I was strong enough to be the person to show him that. I’d walked through the valley of the shadow myself and I was not unscathed.

  “Maybe,” a soft voice said from a nearby alcove, startling both of us, “you should listen to the lady and shut the hell up, Pepper.”

  Edward emerged from the dark recesses, neatly attired in a vest and tie, no doubt dressed for dinner. His glasses were perched on the top of his head, indicating he’d been reading, but his hair was mussed up as though he’d been anxiously ramming his fingers through it, and I spied tired, bluish circles under his eyes. I was little embarrassed to think he might have been here the whole time. Still, he seemed in support of my suggestion that Pepper should back the fuck off.

  “Lady?” The word rolled out of her mouth drolly. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

  Edward exhaled a long can-you-possibly-be-serious sigh. “How very witty. I’m nearly positive that you must be the reincarnation of Shakespeare himself with insults like that.”

  “Don’t be so intellectual, Eddie. Men don’t find that attractive,” she advised, clicking her nails together as she spoke.

  “Clara.” Edward strode toward me and offered his arm. “Allow me to see you to your room.”

  “Gladly.” A mixture of relief and disgust and confusion swirled through me. As soon as we were out of earshot of Pepper, I added, “I think that went well.”

  “I suppose that depends.”

  “On what?” I asked. “How much did you hear?”

  “All of it,” Edward admitted, his eyes flitting to me briefly. “I saw you and Alexander, and I wanted to give you some privacy.”

  “And then you left me to defend myself against Pepper Spray?” I smacked his shoulder.

  “Pepper Spray? Have you nicknamed us all?” His mouth crooked into a grin. “Am I Queen Edward then?”

  Now it was my turn to feel sheepish, even as I shook my head. “You are Nice Edward Whom I Don’t Want to Kill.”

  “Something about the way you said that makes me think there are others on your hit list.”

  “Only the Royal Brat Pack.” The answer slipped out before I could even consider how childish I sounded or whom I was talking to. I had no doubt that he could guess to whom I was referring, and after what I’d witnessed last night, he might take my dig rather personally. I chewed on my lip, waiting for him to drop my arm or laugh, but he did neither.

  “Another excellent nickname. I’ve never come up with something so fitting before myself.”

  I couldn’t help but take his response as an indication that he wasn’t offended. “What names have you given them?”

  “Assholes. Wankers. The usual,” he said with a shrug.

  “I want you t
o know that I don’t think David—”

  Edward’s demeanor shifted immediately, and I was reminded that he was Alexander’s brother. Without a word from him, I knew to drop it.

  “About that,” he began.

  But I held a hand up. Now it was my turn to save him. “You don’t have to say anything. My lips are sealed.”

  “So I don’t have to buy you off?”

  My mouth fell open until I realized he was joking, and I shut it quickly. “No,” I said dryly. “As you know, I’m a woman of means.”

  “So I heard.” His answer lacked the snappiness of his earlier comebacks as his eyes faded into thought. “It’s a well-kept secret. Not about me. About him. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  I’d spent the last day enduring derision and condescension. Edward didn’t have to elaborate on what he hoped to save David from, but I couldn’t help but wonder how David felt about it. It was a difficult line to walk openly being here with Alexander. How hard must it be for David?

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to be brave as I opened the door to my room. “Do you want to come in?”

  “I’m not sure how Alexander will feel about me being in your room.”

  “Somehow I don’t think he’ll mind.”

  “I have quite the reputation, you know.” But he stepped inside.

  “That’s why I’m not worried.”

  “Yes,” he said, “because a gay man is only ever in a woman’s room for innocent reasons.”

  “You aren’t going to steal my underwear, are you?” I teased, shimmying out of Alexander’s jacket.

  Edward’s eyebrow shot up as he took in my blouse.

  “Wardrobe malfunction.” I opened the armoire, hunting for something appropriate for another stuffy dinner.

  “Whatever he did to you, I hope it was worth ruining a Donna Karan.”

  “It was,” I promised him as I continued to riffle through the clothes I’d brought. I had thought I was over-packing, but being stuck around Pepper and her brat pack made all my clothing feel dated or casual or cheap.

  “Go take a shower,” Edward suggested, pushing me toward the en suite.

  “I can’t find anything to wear. There’s no point. Maybe I’ll go like this and give the whole rotten bunch of them heart attacks.”

  “It would certainly weed the line of succession a bit if you did that,” he said, shaking his head bemusedly. “Don’t worry about your clothes.”

  I stared at him as he began to poke through my dresses. “Are you going to pick out an outfit for me?”

  Edward’s back was to me now, but I saw the laughter rolling through him. “Oh poppet, there might be some unfair stereotypes about gay men out there, but our sense of style isn’t one of them.”

  25

  An hour later I was fully clothed, my makeup perfectly applied, and my hair curled. I tugged self-consciously at the dress Edward had chosen for me. I’d bought it at Belle’s insistence, and it was far from my usual style. The satin skirt rested a good eight inches above my knees, and the lace fabric of the top draped over a nude slip. I looked positively naked under it. It wouldn’t take much to imagine my breasts as the thinness of the fabric left no room for a bra.

  “You’re sure you don’t have some tape,” Edward said as he swept my chestnut locks over one shoulder, eying me analytically in the loo’s mirror.

  “Not all of us carry a fashion emergency kit,” I said drily as I stared at my reflection, trying to decide if I could show my face in this ensemble.

  “More’s the pity. Oh well, Alexander will like it.” Edward winked, grabbing my hand he spun me away from my self-analysis and whistled. “You have excellent taste. Your closet is a gay man’s dream.”

  “Want to play dress up?” I asked seriously. It was a safe bet that Edward’s trim body would fit into some of my clothes.

  “Oh no, I like to see beautiful women in dresses, but I don’t swing that way,” he assured me. “Christ, can you imagine what the family would think of that? They lucked out and only got a mild case of metrosexuality to deal with.”

  I laughed along with him, noting that he was rocking a tweed vest, horn-rim glasses and carefully polished wingtips. It wasn’t the careless, sexy look of his brother, but rather a carefully articulated sense of taste all his own. “I wish I could claim I bought these clothes, but I had help.”

  “Personal shopper?”

  “My mother has tried for years to dress me like a nice British aristocrat. I’m sorry to say I’d rather be in jeans and sandshoes,” I admitted, sighing in remembrance of my university days. “My flatmate took me shopping.”

  “Your flatmate has excellent taste then.” It was clear from his tone that Edward’s interest was piqued.

  “You might know her actually: Annabelle Stuart.”

  If Edward knew about the Stuart family scandal he didn’t let on, he simply shook his head. “I’m sorry to say I don’t, but I would love to. If we make it out of here alive, we should have tea.”

  “I would like that.” Now that I’d made a friend in Alexander’s inner circle, I wasn’t letting go. It was nice to be around a member of the royal bunch who didn’t have his head stuck up his ass, which was something I couldn’t always say for Alexander, and I found Edward’s openness about who he was to be a refreshing change of pace. Edward had as much reason to be coy as Alexander, and yet he’d already opened up to me.

  “Uh-oh. I see those wheels turning,” Edward said, interrupting my thoughts before they spiraled further into despair. “This is all you need to know. You look fantastic. The skirt isn’t too short. We’re likely to be treated to a viewing of Pepper or Sandra’s ass tonight. Believe me, this is nothing in comparison. This is sexy and sophisticated.”

  “Just like Pepper,” I said with a sigh.

  “That girl may look like sex on a stick...”

  I raised my eyebrow at hearing this come out of his mouth.

  “I have eyes, even if I’m not buying,” he said with a shrug. “But no one has ever mistaken her for sophisticated.”

  “I did.” I chewed my lip as I remembered my first impression of the statuesque blonde. If I were being honest, part of me would kill to look like Pepper. The other part of me just wanted to kill her.

  Edward grabbed my hand. “Pepper is intimidating, not sophisticated. The difference between the two is very subtle, but don’t ever forget that. She’s all bark and no bite.”

  “I hope you’re right about that.” I couldn’t help but think that Pepper might be more dangerous than Edward or Alexander believed her to be. There was, after all, a difference between attacking and circling. She hadn’t done more than expose her fangs so far, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t planning a strike.

  “After tonight, she’ll know who she’s up against. You’re a badass, Clara Bishop.”

  “I am, huh?” I laughed at his pep talk. It was sweet of him, but he didn’t really know me. The girl who had to remind herself to eat. The girl who had let her ex push her around. The girl who made excuses for everyone.

  “You have to be. Alexander wouldn’t be interested in you if you weren’t.”

  “I get the impression Alexander is pretty interested in anything with two breasts and air in her lungs.” I’d never spoken this fear out loud to anyone. I’d hinted at it with Alexander, always laughing off the mentions of his playboy ways in the press. The closest we’d come to really discussing his sexual history was when I confronted him about Pepper, but I’d always been as eager as he was to avoid the subject of his many girlfriends and flings.

  “Don’t say that.” Edward shook his head, his eyes sad. He rubbed them with the back of his hand. “I’m not the only one who’s been forced to keep up appearances.”

  “Really?” I tried to sound casual but failed miserably. There was so much I didn’t know about Alexander’s life before me, and I couldn’t quite contain my curiosity. Alexander occupied my thoughts constantly. He’d become a compulsion I couldn’t deny
, and yet there was so much I wanted to learn about him.

  “I’m not saying all the stories are fake. But some of them have been embellished,” Edward assured me.

  “And why do you think he’s here with me?” I asked, searching his brother’s dark eyes for any clues that would lead me to the answers I so desperately wanted.

  “Because he likes you,” Edward said quickly. “I heard Pepper tell you Alexander was incapable of love.”

  “Is she right?” I whispered, suddenly afraid.

  “I hope not. I remember a time when my brother played with me as a kid. How he’d come in when I was sick and look in on me. I never knew our mother and our father—well, you know how he is, but Alexander took care of me...” His voice trailed away as though there were more, but he didn’t speak again.

  “But?” I prompted.

  “That was before Sarah died.”

  “So this is who he is,” I said, a note of finality ringing in the words. I’d known that. He’d told me that, but somehow I’d thought things could be different. Didn’t every magazine and self-help book ever written warn that wasn’t possible? And yet, here I was, trying anyway. I waved off the concerned look on Edward’s face. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You look like I kicked a puppy.” Edward’s hand tangled in his hair. He looked so much like his brother in that moment that my heart jumped. “I shouldn’t say this, because I know better than anyone what it’s like to get your hopes up only to have them come crashing down, but I think Alexander is capable of love. You don’t just lose that ability. Whatever is preventing him from getting close to someone is all due to him not wanting to.”

  It was the last thing I wanted to hear, and I turned away so he couldn’t see the pain on my face. Alexander didn’t want to love. That was the real problem, not that he was incapable of it. How stupid was I to think I could fix him? That if I loved him it would be enough? I choked back a sob and took a shaky breath.

  “Here.” Edward handed me a pair of Yves St. Laurent black pumps. They were at least an inch higher than any I’d worn, even the ones Belle had talked me into for the ball. I wrinkled my nose, unable to hide my obvious distress at adding even more leg to this ensemble. I was beginning to think Edward and Belle were part of a large conspiracy to turn me into a fashionista.