Royal Mistake: The Complete Series

by Ember Casey

  I reach out, finding her hand and curling my fingers around it. Then I drop slowly to one knee.

  Victoria’s eyes go wide. “Andrew, what—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you say,” I tell her. “I will love you anyway. But I should have done this properly from the start. I love you completely. With every fiber of my being. And I will continue to do so until the day I die. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Victoria. I want to fall asleep in your arms every night and spend every day trying to be the man you deserve. I want to have wild adventures together. I want to curl up with you on rainy days and watch the stars with you on clear nights and spend our free afternoons trying to finally beat you at fencing. I want to build a complete life with you.” My fingers tighten on hers. “If you’ll let me, of course.”

  She looks completely stunned, but before she can respond, I have to say the most important part.

  “Victoria Simpson,” I say, “will you marry me?”

  Victoria

  This can’t be happening. Maybe I’m still knocked out, lying by the side of the lake after our plane crash and this has all been some glorious dream.

  Whatever it is, one thing is obvious. Prince Andrew cannot be asking me to marry him.

  In some ways, it seems like it might have only been yesterday when Elle and I were lying on the beach in California and I was dreaming of merely dancing with the man kneeling before me.

  What he’s doing—what he’s offering—is more than I ever dared to dream. More than I ever hoped. But I can’t let him do this. I can’t let him throw away everything he’s always believed in for me.

  I look down at him, my mouth falling open to tell him how ridiculous this is. How there’s no way we can make this work, even if what William said is true. Even if love can conquer nearly everything, what we’re facing is so much bigger than almost anything. This isn’t just about Andrew and me. This is about Montovia. This is about the country he loves so much.

  He must read it in my eyes—I can almost feel the crushing weight in my chest that I see in his expression as he pulls his hand away from mine. He nearly collapses and hunches over, burying his head in his hands.

  I drop to my knees, pulling him into an embrace. But he doesn’t touch me other than to press his forehead against my chest, his hands still hiding his face.

  Dipping my head, I whisper in his ear. “Andrew, I love you more than I can even say. More than I have words for.” Tears fill my eyes again and my voice chokes in my throat. “I want all those things for us, too. I want to fall asleep in your arms every night. I want to have every possible adventure with you. I want to stand by your side and face the world with you.”

  He lifts his head and meets my gaze with eyes that are shining, though it’s difficult to tell if what shines in them is tears or hope.

  I force a weak smile. “I love that you’re willing to give up everything for me. I love that you made a fool of yourself in front of the world for me. But that’s just it, Andrew. You’re not a fool. And you can’t give everything up. Not for me.”

  He slowly shakes his head. “How many times do I have to say it, Victoria? I want to give it all up for you. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions on the matter. And I’m completely aware of the consequences. I don’t…I don’t know what else I can do to prove it to you. I’ve done every last thing I can think of.” His voice quivers with emotion. “I love you. I want to spend my life with you. And I’m willing to give up everything for that. Everything.”

  My heart hammers in my chest at his words. I want to believe him. If there was any way possible to have it all—to have our cake and eat it, too—I’d be all in. But there isn’t. And I’m not sure why he’s choosing denial over accepting the truth.

  “Andrew…” I try to choose my words carefully, not wanting to cause him any further pain. “From the moment we met, your only concern has been Montovia. The only—”

  “That is not true. I became quite fond of you within hours of our meeting, Victoria. If you’ll recall, I pulled you from a lake—”

  “But that wasn’t our first meeting.” I smile. “If you’ll recall, our first meeting was when you danced with me at the state dinner.”

  He sits back on his heels, pulling my hands into his. “A grand mistake if I have ever made one. Not the dancing, of course. The deportation…”

  “Yes.” I grin. “But I danced with you, and I got to cross it off my bucket list. I—”

  He shakes his head, interrupting. “Bucket? List?”

  I nod. “It’s a kind of list people keep of things they want to do before they kick the bucket. It came from a movie a while back.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve wanted to dance with you since I can remember. And I got my wish. And that was enough, Andrew. I never thought I’d see you again. Hell, I never wanted to see you again after you had me deported.”

  “As I said, one of my bigger mistakes in life.”

  “Yes.” I give him another smile. “But what I’m trying to get at is that you’ve always been more worried about what’s best for Montovia. Even when you had me kicked out on my ear, it was because you were trying to do what was best for your citizens.”

  He arches a brow. “When I gambled away the royal scepter, I clearly was not doing what was best for Montovia or her citizens.”

  “You went out for a night of fun, had a bit too much to drink, and lost your wingman to a model. It’s a wonder you didn’t lose more than the scepter.”

  The corners of his mouth curl into something that almost looks like a smile. “The details of that night are a bit fuzzy. I suppose I should be grateful I didn’t gamble away our contested borders. Not that they are mine to gamble.” His brows draw together. His lips part and he gasps. “Not that they are mine to gamble.”

  I nod. “I got it the first time, Andrew.”

  He shakes his head, his smile widening. “I…I just remembered something. I…There’s a law. Victoria, there’s a law.”

  My brow furrows. “I—”

  “You’re a genius.” He squeezes my fingers. “You, Victoria, are a genius.”

  “I would hardly say that. Especially since I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He shakes his head again. “It’s no matter now.” He lets out a long, almost exhilarated sigh. “But it is one less concern for me to bear at the moment. At least for this moment.”

  “Good.” My eyebrows draw together again under my confusion. “That’s good—”

  “There’s still the issue of you answering my question, however. Whatever the answer, Victoria, I promise you what I’ve said is true. I will love you regardless. Even if you say no.”

  I look into his eyes for a moment. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I don’t see any other way around this. “What I was trying to say before, Andrew—”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve had my head up my backside my entire life. I tried to explain to you that you’ve made me see the light, Victoria. I’m sure I’ll still have my moments, but you’ll be by my side to remind me that there’s more to life than duty.”

  “What is your first duty, Andrew?”

  He stares at me for a moment, his smile widening. “To you, of course.”

  “Not to me.” I shake my head. “Your first duty is to Montovia.”

  He heaves a sigh. “I don’t want to do this. I know what you’re doing. I know this is about my duty to provide Montovia with—what do you say in the tabloids? An heir and a spare?”

  “That’s exactly what it’s about, Andrew. Exactly. Even if…” I almost wince at the words I know I have to say. “Even if the people of Montovia can get past the fact that I’m not one of them… Even if they can somehow come to accept me as your wife…”

  He grins. “Are you accepting my proposal?”

  I have to stop myself from shaking my head. “What I’m saying is, what are they going to do when they find out? How…how am I supposed to deal with that? I know you want to protec
t me, but that issue isn’t anything you can protect me from. It just isn’t.”

  “And I know that. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

  “But what happens when you have second thoughts? When the questions raised are sufficient to make you reconsider? What happens then?”

  “What questions, Victoria? This is Montovia. There will be no questions from the press unless I allow them.” He shrugs. “So I’ll never allow them. It’s very simple, really.”

  “You realize also that I have a huge problem with the lack of freedom of the press in this country, right? That someone with supreme authority can just wave their wand—”

  “Scepter.”

  I lift a brow. “Fine. Scepter. They can wave their scepter and have members of the press thrown in the dungeon or whatever.”

  “I assure you, Victoria. No member of the press has been locked away in more than a century. Well, not for very long, anyway.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Fine. Even if you are able to control the press here, what happens when I go home? When I have to face the American media?”

  He shrugs again. “You don’t have to go home. I’ve already told you I can assist you with finding whatever type of employment you like here.”

  “So we’ll stay in Montovia forever?”

  “Perhaps.”

  I nod. “Even for our honeymoon?”

  A grin flashes across his lips for a moment. “We have some lovely vacation spots here.”

  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

  He presses his lips into another smile. “When it comes to you, I’m afraid I do. Believe it or not, I have thought out this decision quite thoroughly. Regardless of whether or not you believe it.”

  “Well, I don’t believe it. Not that it seems to matter.”

  His grin widens. “Are we coming to the part where you say ‘yes’, yet?”

  I roll my eyes to the clouds overhead, giving my head a small shake. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m sitting on the ground across from Prince Andrew after he just proposed to me.”

  “Would you like me to ask you again?”

  I drop my gaze back to his. “Yes. Yes, I think I would.”

  He lifts himself back onto a knee, pulling my fingers into his before he places a kiss on my hand. He smiles and gazes into my eyes. “Victoria Simpson, will you marry me?”

  My heart hammers in my chest, so loudly this time that I can barely hear my answer squeak from my lips. “Yes.”

  Andrew

  She said yes. She said yes.

  I pull her into my arms and kiss her. One of my hands weaves through her hair, the other slides around her waist, holding her as close to me as possible. We’re still on the ground, but I don’t care. She’s going to be my wife. My wife.

  She kisses me back just as enthusiastically, her lips moving against mine with a hungry joy. Now that her walls have come down, now that she’s embraced what we have between us, it seems as if the full force of her desire has come out.

  I pull back just enough to speak.

  “I love you,” I murmur to her. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispers back.

  I kiss her again, pulling her tight against my chest. I hardly dare believe any of this is real—perhaps I blacked out after my disastrous speech and this is all some sort of fever dream.

  But Victoria is warm and soft and real in my arms. Her kisses are sweetness and fire. Everything is too vivid for this to be a dream.

  Victoria is going to be my wife. We’ll be together forever. I get to spend the rest of my life showing her how much she means to me. No matter how many times I think it, it still seems surreal.

  I don’t know how long we sit there on the ground in each other’s arms. My mind is on nothing but her. After a time, though, I become aware of a prickling on the back of my neck, and the sensation draws me sharply back into the present—we’re being watched.

  I pull back abruptly. I’m almost drunk on my happiness, dizzy and lightheaded and reckless, but I force myself to turn my head, to look away from Victoria and toward the narrow path behind us.

  There are people there. And not just a handful, no—a small crowd. Perhaps a couple dozen. All gathered close, watching Victoria and me celebrate our engagement.

  And they aren’t the only ones. There’s a restaurant nearby overlooking the river. Many of the patrons have gathered at the edge of the terrace to gape at our little scene. Some have even pulled out their mobile phones to snap photos of us.

  Quickly, I scramble to my feet, then reach down and help Victoria to hers. My first instinct is to deny everything, to protect Victoria from the attention this scene is bound to bring—but it’s far too late for that. The only other option is to tell the truth. I like the truth.

  “Good citizens,” I say. “Forgive the informality, but I would like to introduce Ms. Victoria Simpson. She has just consented to be my wife.”

  Though I’m sure many of the onlookers have pieced together the situation already, my announcement still draws a collective gasp from the group. Some of them start whispering excitedly amongst themselves, while others boldly call questions out to me.

  “Who is she?”

  “How did you meet?”

  “Is she American?”

  “Does this mean she’s going to be queen?”

  Victoria’s fingers tighten on mine, and I glance down at her. She’s wearing a smile, but I can see the anxiety in her eyes—our happy little moment has turned into an overwhelming one very quickly.

  I raise my hand, quieting the crowd.

  “There will be an official announcement soon during which all of your questions will be answered,” I say. “In the meantime, Victoria and I must return to my father’s bedside.” With that, I step forward, pulling Victoria along with me. A couple of people still try to ask questions, but I ignore them. They must see the determination in my face, because the crowd parts to let us through, stepping back so that Victoria and I may pass.

  We go quickly down the path, back in the direction from which we came. If I weren’t such a fool, I would have waited to propose until we were somewhere private—but there’s no use in chastising myself about that now. What’s done is done, and the important thing is that Victoria has consented to be my wife.

  I look over at her again as we head down the street toward the hospital. She still looks a little stunned, and she glances around as we walk, no doubt noticing how many people are looking at us.

  I squeeze her fingers. “Ignore them. They’re just curious about you.”

  She gives a little laugh. “That’s easier said than done.”

  No doubt these next few weeks—even months—are going to be difficult for her. Victoria isn’t used to being on this side of the celebrity story.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t have been so impulsive. I should have done all of this in private and given you time to adjust—”

  “No,” she says. “No, I’m glad you did it.” She looks up at me, her eyes bright and her lips curling into a smile. “I want to marry you, Andrew. I do. I’m just… This is just going to take some getting used to.”

  “Just remember that you aren’t alone. That we’re in this together. Whatever challenges you face in the coming months, I will face by your side.”

  Her cheeks redden slightly, and she drops her gaze. “I…I don’t even know what to think. I know there’s a lot to consider now, but…I don’t want to deal with any of that at the moment. Is that stupid?”

  “No,” I tell her. “I know exactly how you feel.” I haven’t allowed myself to stop and think fully about the consequences of marrying Victoria…but I’ll face them as they come. Right now, I just want to enjoy this. To live in the moment and allow myself this moment of happiness. Victoria is going to be my wife.

  The hospital is still around the corner, but I can’t wait that long. I pull Victoria into an empty doo
rway and yank her fully into my arms, kissing her deeply.

  Her surprise fades quickly, and her arms go around my neck, pulling me closer. My hands slide up her back and tangle in her hair. I press my hips against her, and she lets out a gasp against my lips. We’re like two teenagers, helpless against the desire coursing through us. Blissfully ignorant of propriety and responsibility. Right now, in this moment, there’s only us—us and our love.

  My tongue slips into her mouth, tasting and searching. Her fingers grip my hair. I’ve half a mind to take her right here, to lift her up against the door and bury myself in her, any onlookers be damned. I can only imagine what stories they’d print about us then. Victoria makes me feel wild, reckless, unafraid of anything.

  One of my hands falls to the bottom of her shirt. My fingers slip beneath the fabric and slide across her bare skin. She gasps again, but she doesn’t pull away.

  My hand creeps higher, moving toward her breast. I’ve got her pressed against the door, so my body is effectively blocking her from the view of the street. I can explore her all I want while still giving us some privacy.

  My fingers move higher and higher up her body, finally skimming across the bottom edge of her bra. She moans softly against my mouth, and my hand moves higher still, up over the curve of her breast. Her nipple is a hard bud beneath the fabric, and I run my thumb over it, making her whimper.

  I’ve started to slide my fingers beneath her bra when I hear a click. And then suddenly the door behind us opens, sending both of us tumbling into the room beyond.

  It takes me a moment to come back to my senses. I sit partway up, stunned, and beneath me Victoria rushes to pull her shirt back down. When I look up, I see a woman staring down at us, her eyes wide. As I glance around, I realize that the doorway we chose led into a small bookstore, and several shocked faces now stare down at us.

  Once again, there’s no lying my way out of this. I climb to my feet, straightening my clothes with one hand and helping up Victoria with the other. I clear my throat.