by Avery Wilde
He stood, his eyes on me. “That may be so. But I’m a snob who would dearly love for you to prove Mother wrong. Good night, Edward. Do let me know if you need help. I know you won’t come to me for help, but the offer is there.”
“Night, Andrew,” I said, feeling that my brother had earned a healthy dose of respect for his parting words. I was going to show my evil stepmother—and the world—that I could do this. But most importantly, I was going to show my father that I could finally make him proud to have a bastard son, that I was more than just the black sheep, the half-breed of the royal family. I was going to prove to them that for once in my life, I was better than that. So what if my original goal was the money and the lifestyle that I’d become accustomed to? It was, in a way, a means to an end, and it gave me the motivation I needed.
They expected me to fail, and some even wanted me to. But little did they know, I had a secret weapon in my pocket. She just didn’t know it yet.
6
Rose
I slid the back on the frame and turned it around, a smile coming across my face as I stared at the print. It was one of my favourite shots from my two years abroad, a perfect sunset of every colour imaginable as it settled over a calm body of water. We had hiked to the lake hours earlier, setting up the cameras and waiting for the right moment to snap this one picture. I had gotten others, of course, but this one was like my Mona Lisa.
I set it on my bed and looked over at my broken camera—the lens cracked beyond all repair—my wallet already crying at the funds I was going to have to shell out in order to fix it. What was a photographer without a camera? It was my bread and butter, and right now, without the ability to take photographs, I was painter without a brush, a writer without a pen.
At the insistence of my mum—and to be fair it was a good idea—I’d started an online shop to sell a few selected prints from abroad and some from around London, but it had yet to take off. Once in a blue moon I got a sale, so there was no way I could rely on that as a source of income. And without a working camera, I would have to give up my paycheque at the club and continue to scrape by with the measly tips I got from my part-time waitressing job. At that rate, I was going to be ninety before I would be able to move out of my parents’ house.
The doorbell rang, the sound easily heard through the thin walls of the house, and I looked at the clock by my bed, hoping that it was finally Harriet and Jacob. I was starved.
Mum was in the kitchen, cooking a large pot of spaghetti, and Dad was out back, tinkering with some lawnmower that he hadn’t been able to get running in over a month now. It was our weekly family dinner, the one night of the week we weren’t allowed to do anything but come eat. Though I had enjoyed my trip abroad for the most part, I’d missed these nights. My family was just a normal, sometimes crazy family, and I loved them all dearly.
The doorbell rang again as I was halfway down the stairs, wondering how on earth I was going to tell Harriet. I would have to tell her I wouldn’t be able to take photos for her for at least a month until I could get my camera repaired. She would likely offer to pay, but I wasn’t one to accept charity; I hated to rack up any kind of debt. Plus it had been partly my fault it had been broken in the first place.
Throwing the lock, I opened the door, my smile dying as soon as I took in the person on the front doorstep. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Ms. Mathis,” the rebel prince replied, a full-on grin on his handsome face. Damn him, just his looks alone sent a fluttering low in my stomach. “I would like to have a word with you.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you, and how on earth did you find out where I live?” I hissed, confused as to why he was here on my parents’ doorstep and why he would need to talk to me. “Never mind, I don’t need to know. Now please leave.”
“Honey, is that Harriet and Jacob?”
I closed my eyes in frustration and was about to shut the door before she could see, but as my mum came to stand beside me, her breath left her in a rush. “Oh my god.”
“Mrs. Mathis,” the prince said, giving my mum an award-winning smile and bowing his head slightly. “I’m sorry to disturb your evening. I was just asking your daughter here to give me a moment of her time.”
I wanted to call bullshit so badly, but I knew my mum would probably bop me in the back of my head for cussing in front of royalty.
“I don’t even know what to call you,” my mum stammered, her hand up to her mouth. The devilish smile reappeared in his face and he shook his head. “I’m just Edward, ma’am.”
“And he was just leaving,” I answered, not believing he had ambushed me at home. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?
“What? No, no,” my mum said, pushing open the door and pushing me aside, literally. “Forgive my daughter. She seems to have lost all her manners. Please, come in. I am just making some spaghetti.”
“I like spaghetti,” he said smoothly as he stepped over the threshold, giving me a pleased smile as he passed me, the smell of his cologne assaulting my nostrils and doing funny things to my insides all at the same time. No, no! He couldn’t be here in my parents’ house! There would be so many questions. They’d jump to conclusions, and there was nothing to even remotely put together here other than the fact he was trying to ruin my life and I didn’t know why. I hadn’t even sold the picture of his rear end, for god’s sake!
Maybe I should have, I thought to myself as I went to close the door, watching his royal rear end saunter down the small hallway. Then I would be dealing with his lawyers and not the rogue prince himself.
“What the hell, Rose!”
“Sorry,” I squeaked out as I opened the door back up, staring into the eyes of my sister. “I didn’t see you out there.” She took one look at the man following our mum, and her eyes widened, surprise filtering across her face. “Is that who I think it is? Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly as she stepped through the door. “Where’s Jacob?”
“Working late,” she said, her eyes joining mine, never leaving the prince’s finely crafted ass. It was a fine rear end, I had to admit, encased in a nice, tight pair of jeans. I couldn’t decide if I liked the jeans or just the au naturale picture tucked away on my laptop. What I didn’t like was the fact that he was currently getting very chummy with my mum.
I closed the door, and we both followed Mum to the living room, where she was showing our guest to a comfortable spot on the couch. “Please sit down,” she was saying, her smile wider than I had ever seen. Oh god. She was hooked. “Welcome to our home, Edward. I have no idea why you are here, but we are honoured that you are. Shouldn’t you have bodyguards or something with you?” she asked, her face full of concern.
“Mum, you’re rambling!”
He turned his dazzling smile on her and I rolled my eyes. There was no doubt in my mind he wanted something from me. What, I did not know, but I was going to find out. “The pleasure is all mine, ma’am, and well, yes, I should, but I gave them the slip. But don’t you worry. I think I’m perfectly safe with you and your nice family.”
“Ooh, you are a cheeky one. I’m going to get your father,” she said happily, turning her attention toward us. “Keep an eye on the sauce, girls.”
I nodded, and my mum nearly floated out of the room, leaving my sister and me with the surprise visitor. “Er… I’m going to stir the sauce… in the kitchen,” Harriet said quickly, bolting out of the room, as well. I was sure, though, knowing my sister, that she was just around the corner, listening in on the conversation I was about to have with the man in front of me.
“Why are you here?” I finally asked. “Did I not make myself clear last night when you ruined my date?”
He chuckled then, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners. Damn. It made him look even hotter. “Rose, I wasn’t ruining that date. It was ruined from the start.”
My face burned with embarrassment. I’d thought nearly the sam
e thing as I left the restaurant in a flurry. The date had been a disaster, and Edward had in a way saved me from having to go through an awkward goodbye with the boring banker. What had Harriet been thinking? “Still, you had no right to say those things,” I fought back, squirming in my seat.
He gave me a grin, setting off those damn butterflies in my stomach again. “Did you like what I was saying, Rose?”
I bolted off of the chair. “You need to go.”
“No, wait,” he said as I marched to the door, throwing it open before looking back. He was standing a few feet away, something akin to shame on his face. “I’m sorry. Things come out of my mouth without me thinking about it.”
“You think?” I replied, arching a brow. He gave me a shrug, the boyish smile still lingering on his face. I could almost fall for his act, almost. “What do you want, really?”
“I need your help,” he said softly, some of the humour leaving his expression, replaced with something I could not decipher. Desperation? “And I believe you are the only one that can help me.”
I opened my mouth to say something, like how on earth could I help a prince? I was a nobody! I couldn’t even get my own life on track and move out of my parents’ house, let alone help a prince. But we were interrupted by my mum coming back in, dragging Dad with her. “See? Can you believe it?”
I watched, amused, as my dad shrugged as he eyed Edward, disinterest on his face. “Well, are we going to eat or not?” he asked, as if he hadn’t even registered that there was royalty in the room. My mum huffed and turned her special smile on Edward, whose expression was comical in itself. What did she expect? That my dad would jump up and down and squeal like a teenage girl? Mum kept up with everything that had to do with the royal family, but my dad had always said that until they started paying his bills, he wasn’t going to give them the time of day. Seems that he wasn’t lying, even with one of them standing in front of him. Well, half royalty anyway. I didn’t know if Edward actually counted… and I didn’t dare ask.
“Of course, right this way, everyone. I hope you’ve brought an appetite, Prince Edward,” she finally said and shooed us all into the dining room, where Harriet was bringing the food to the table. My dad took his customary seat at the top of the table as he did every night, and I chose to sit in my regular seat, too, the one I had literally grown up in, thinking I would be safe from Edward. But then Harriet betrayed me and instead of taking her place beside me, gave me a devilish smile and sat opposite, next to Mum!
“Ooh, why don’t you take a seat next to Rose? Unless you’d be more comfortable at the top?” my mum asked. My dad grunted as if Edward would take that seat over his dead body.
“Here’s perfect,” Edward replied as he slid in next to me.
I could have screamed. This man, a virtual stranger in my books, was sitting at my family’s dinner table like it was an everyday occurrence! It was beyond ridiculous. I sat rigid in my chair waiting for this nightmare to be over. How does one eat with royalty present? I knew I was overthinking everything, the way I held my fork or the way my dad slurped up tendrils of spaghetti—digging in without ceremony—but I couldn’t help it. Edward was sitting right next to me, his heat and mind-swirling aftershave just radiating off him.
“So,” my mum started after we had all gotten our portion of her spaghetti. “How’s the club going, Harriet?”
“It’s great, really starting to pick up,” Harriet said slowly, her eyes still on the prince who was crashing our family dinner. “Rose helped me get some really great shots for the flyers, too.”
“I don’t know why you don’t let Jacob run the club,” my dad grumbled, like he did every time we talked about the club. While he was proud that Harriet had established herself, he hated the fact that she, and not her husband, was running the club. It was an old-school way of thinking, but he was an old-school kinda guy, my dad.
“Dad,” Harriet warned, “Jacob is a banker, not a club owner. I don’t know how many times we need to go over this.”
“Now, now, we have company,” my mum interrupted between gritted teeth.
“He’s more equipped to handle the situations like that fight the other night.” He then looked at the prince, his eyes narrowing. “And I do believe I saw you on the front page getting arrested.”
I watched as the prince’s cheeks stained with embarrassment, surprised that he was reacting to a simple commoner’s retort in such a way. Shouldn’t he be calling for my dad’s head or something for airing his dirty laundry like that? I mean, it had been on the front page and all, but even still, knowing my father, he probably would’ve done the same if the king of England were sitting at his table in Edward’s place. There was one thing for certain; my dad didn’t have a filter on his mouth.
“Harold,” my mum said sharply, looking at her husband, “he’s our guest.”
“No, your husband is right,” Edward sighed next to me, his expression taking on a sheen of shame. “It was wrong fighting with that man—but I don’t regret it one iota. He was insulting your daughter and I had no choice.”
It was my turn to duck my head as my mum’s narrowed gaze swung in my direction. “Rose,” she said slowly, a hitch to her voice, “what on earth happened?”
“It was her asshole of a boyfriend, that’s what,” Harriet piped up before I could come up with an answer. “He was bothering Rose. The prince stepped in at just the right time.”
“Well, I had it under control,” I muttered, though no one was listening to me. Great. Now my mum was beaming at the infuriating man beside me like he was some damn superhero. She would be talking about this at her ladies book club meeting for weeks.
“Well,” Mum finally said, elbowing her husband in the side. “Apparently we owe the prince here a heartfelt thank-you for stepping in for our Rose, don’t we, Harold?”
“Err,” my dad started, looking down at his spaghetti, “I would’ve expected nothing less.”
“I’m just glad I could help out,” Edward shrugged, his eyes full of laughter. I wanted to sink down in my seat in embarrassment. First he had barged into my private domain for ‘help’ as he was calling it, and now he was sucking up to my parents and making them believe he was some kind of hero. Didn’t he already have enough people worshiping the ground he walked on? Though when I thought back on that night and the menacing look in Brent’s eye, I had to admit I was relieved someone had intervened.
“Rose, how did your date go last night?” Mum asked.
I sucked down a length of pasta and felt it lodge in my airway, causing me to cough violently. A strong hand landed on my back once, then twice, as I choked it down, my teary eyes swinging over to the man next to me. “I’m fine,” I croaked as his whacks turned into a slow circle on my back, igniting a slow burn through my shirt.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his eyes twinkling with laughter. I gave him a dark look and forced myself to look at my mum, who was staring at me with a shade of terror on her face. Leave it to me to embarrass her in front of a member of the royal family. “It was fine. He’s not my type.”
Edward covered his laughter with a fit of coughing, and I grinned, whacking him hard on his back as payback. “Are you going to make it?” I asked politely, feeling the strong muscles flex under my hand.
“Oh my god, Rose, he’s not choking,” Mum said, her voice edging on hysteria. “Quit beating his back.”
“Better safe than sorry,” I said with a smile, turning back to my spaghetti with a self-assured grin on my face. That would teach him to ambush me. Not once but twice now. And still I had no idea what he wanted from me. Yet that gorgeous smile made me think that whatever it was, I would surely regret it.
7
Edward
She was smart. I had to give her that. I knew she would be caught off guard by me showing up at her parents’ house, but I hadn’t expected to actually enjoy the visit. Her parents were the quintessential hard-working English family, and it was obvious to me that they all reall
y cared for each other. Rose was also pretty damn embarrassed, and I idly made a note that I would have to make it up to her.
Still, I thought as I took the last bite of a wholesome rhubarb crumble, I couldn’t imagine having this type of dinner at my father’s residence. There had never been this kind of ribbing between our relatives. Dinner was a more sombre affair, where my stepmother dominated the conversation. She would drone on and on about whatever was bothering her, not leaving much time for anyone else to get a word in. Sitting at that table had been some of the most uncomfortable times in my life, and maybe that was one of the reasons I had acted out so much. When my mum was alive, our dinners had consisted of just us two eating together. I could remember her gentle laugh as I told her about my day, and just like it was yesterday I remembered the familiar smells of my favourite—and what would be considered humble by the palace’s standards—meals coming from our kitchen. This sudden bout of nostalgia, combined with the friendly banter at this family’s table, made me realise how much I’d missed those things.
“Well,” Mrs. Mathis said, pushing her chair back from the table. “I guess we need to get this cleaned up.”
“Sit, Mum,” Rose said, waving her mum back into the seat. “Let me clean it up tonight.”
“Sorry to eat and run, Mum, but I have to go. I have a ton of accounting and stock orders to catch up with,” Harriet said. As she pushed her chair back from the table, she raised her eyebrows at me, then glanced at her sister and back again. “It was nice to meet you, Your Highness,” Harriet said and nodded.
“Pleasure was all mine, but really I wish you’d all just call me Edward.”
“Nonsense,” replied their mother. “I’ll walk you out, Harriet. I wanted to ask you about, er, that book. Yes, that’s right, the book for next week’s book club,” Mrs. Mathis continued and rose from the table. I could tell what she was doing, hoping perhaps to give me and her other daughter some time to talk, but Rose had already started to occupy herself by gathering the dishes in a small pile. She scowled at me when I stood and reached for the heavy sauce pot before she could.