My voice shook, my hands shook. I was furious. “What I have of a life has been completely turned upside down and wrecked because of the man you were going to marry! I was happy in Italy. For once in my life I could breathe, and then…” Hugh had crossed behind me, put his hands on my shoulders. I half wondered if he would stop me if I physically went after Thea. Which princess would he protect? “Then you have the nerve to tell me how I get to react when my house, my privacy, my livelihood are threatened once again because of this goddamned family.”
Thea had paled, her eyes wide. “Caroline…I didn’t mean…”
But I had had enough of empty royal promises. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I won’t help, I’ll go back to Italy. Just leave me alone.”
“You were contacting Christian, a man we’ve been hunting for months. Of course we want to be involved.”
“But I was trying to help you.” The words tumbled out of me.
“Help me?” Thea’s expression went glacial. “The apprehension of Christian is a matter of national security. I have a team of trained professionals—what makes you think you could send him a flirty email and bring him in when they couldn’t?”
My mouth opened. Closed. I felt tears in my eyes. It was all I had ever done in this family. Try to make everyone happy. And it seemed I had finally been told that I was completely useless.
Hugh’s hands tightened for a moment, his thumbs brushed the back of my shoulders, but when I pulled away to go back to my room, he didn’t come with me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
There was a knock at my door the next morning. I had already bathed and dressed and was ready to jump on the next vehicle going south. No one had come to try to talk me out of it, after all. I tried to tell myself I didn’t care, that I could go back to Italy and relock all the doors that I had closed after Stavros’s death. And whoever was at the door wasn’t going to stop me.
When I opened the door, I realized that, yes, somebody could stop me.
Because there was a person that I really, really, did not want to deal with today.
“Hello, Sybil.”
She looked freakishly amazing and chic, with a straight black bob and a pale, nearly wrinkle-free face. She even knew how to use black eyeliner to make a perfect cat-eye, which was a bit extra at eight o’clock in the morning but on her looked just right.
She smiled at me, like a favorite aunt. “Care to go for a walk?”
All of a sudden, a walk outside in the cool morning breeze sounded like perfection. I jumped on the chance to explore the grounds of the château and I knew exactly where I wanted to go—the water.
I followed my nose and Sybil followed me and, before too long, we had rambled past the gardens, through the bower of dead roses, and we were on a wide expanse of flat, windblown land that looked out on the North Sea.
I took several deep, cleansing breaths before Sybil spoke. “I came with your sister,” she said.
“I figured that out.”
“I help her with getting information.”
I stayed silent.
“Much like I’ve helped you in the past.”
Another cleansing breath wouldn’t help the nerves that just rattled through my body. “Sybil—”
She held up a hand. “I’m not going to betray your secrets. I wouldn’t.”
“Then why are we even talking about this?”
“Because we received an alert that your personal medical records were hacked,” she replied, with as much matter-of-fact concern as if she were discussing a nasty sunburn I’d gotten on one of Sophie’s friend’s yachts. “Your sister wanted me to get information on who might have done it. And to see what I can do to connect to the evidence you’ve collected on Christian Fraser-Campbell.”
“Okay…”
“And I’ve done it.”
“That’s great. Well done.”
“I traced the address of the hacker, and they’ll be receiving a visit from law enforcement shortly.” She paused, and I could tell from her expression that the rest of this wasn’t going to be welcome news.
“Spit it out.”
“While I was in his system, I took a look around at what else they’ve been looking for.” Her face softened. “They were looking for you.”
“They found me.”
“No. Everything about you. They had a file on you. They knew your Swiss accounts. Your real-estate purchases. They were in your email. They know about Clémence Diederich and Cordelia Lancaster,” she finished.
“Ah.”
There was a pause before Sybil spoke. “You already knew this.”
Might as well be upfront with the family’s psychic-slash-computer hacker. It wasn’t like I could hide anything from her. “Christian has been low-key blackmailing me with that information since he found me in Varenna.”
Sybil brushed her hands, and said, in a very practical Driedish way, “You’ll need to tell them.”
“No.” My answer was automatic. But inside, a tiny nugget of doubt sprang up.
She grew sterner. “Caroline. Secrets only give these bastards power over you. Once you expose all the truths, they can no longer win.”
I laughed, a bitter, sharp sound. “Oh, yes. I see your point. Once I tell my family that I wrote a royal gossip column under the name Cordelia Lancaster, it won’t matter so much when the bad guys expose me on national television.”
“It was almost ten years ago.”
“It was the most difficult, brutal period my family has endured,” I reminded her.
“You wrote those columns to take control of the narrative. You always had the best intentions.”
I shook my head. It wouldn’t matter that it had only ever been an impulsive way to try to turn the tide of public opinion back to supporting the family. Any type of unsanctioned involvement with the press would be treated as a mortal act of betrayal. And I’d just now returned to Drieden. Already I’d had one minor scandal, and there couldn’t be another. Not with Gran abdicating this summer and Thea taking her place.
It would be the world’s worst timing.
I had never been very religious. Oh, I had probably attended church services more than the average Driedish girl, but piety was considered a plus for princesses. But right there, on the cliffs of Dréuvar, I wanted to pray. I wanted to pray for salvation, for a way out of this awful place I’d found myself in. I wanted to pray for vengeance on whatever creepy jerk had sat in the dark and lurked in my private corners only to hurt me. I wanted to pray for grace. That after all the mistakes I had made, maybe—just maybe—I would be allowed a small sliver of peace. Or love. Or both, really.
“If I tell them, that’s it.” I swallowed hard. “My relationship with my siblings, with my parents. They’ll be destroyed.”
Sybil raised an eyebrow. “Could it be any worse?”
I barked a laugh at her cynicism, but she was right. Telling them everything would sever the last flimsy thread of connection between me and my Laurent legacy.
Would it be so bad?
My Sevine side had its answer already.
“What will you tell Thea about my forays into tabloid journalism?” I asked.
“I’ve already given her the identification information. I will also tell her that you have been thoroughly targeted. But that’s all for now.” Sybil pressed her lips together, like she already regretted keeping information to herself.
“Can you give me some time? A few days, a week?”
Her voice lowered. “And what will you do?”
“Sybil, you disappoint me. Don’t you know already?” She was a psychic, an astrologer; she had charts and predictions for all of us.
She smiled mysteriously. “Your cards have been always been a little oblique.”
When we got back to the château, we entered at the back hall, a high-ceilinged squar
e vestibule where two wide stairs faced each other. Once again, it was similar to my father’s house at Ceillis. One stair would go toward the west wing and the other toward the east.
Sybil went up a few steps toward the west and then, when she realized I wasn’t following, stopped and turned. “They’re meeting in the dining room. I was told there was breakfast.”
Even as stressed out as it was, my stomach rumbled. Never too traumatized for breakfast, it reminded me.
“I need a moment,” I told Sybil, who seemed to understand and left me with a nod and an appraising smile.
In the center of that entryway, I stood like a statue. Whirring thoughts raced through my mind with such speed Stavros would have been impressed.
Oh, Stavros. Briefly, I wondered what Christian’s hackers would have seen of my marriage when they peeked through my digital curtain. It was probably very little, which was ironic. The most scandalous thing I’d ever done hadn’t played itself out in black and white, in emails or direct deposits. No, my marriage was all physical. Stolen kisses and cars belching exhaust and a thick black veil that concealed my face in a shadow so dark a photographer’s flashbulb couldn’t penetrate.
It probably qualified as the most morbid thought of my life, but still I wondered if what I was feeling now was similar to what Stavros had felt in those last few moments of his life. Did he see the crash coming? Did he recognize that he was out of control, that his choices were limited? That no matter which way he turned the wheel, he was headed straight into disaster?
Because that was where I was. No matter what choice I made today, or tomorrow, or twenty years from now, someone out there could have information that would hurt me or humiliate me or drive a wedge between me and my family.
So maybe prayer was the only answer. Maybe a miracle was the only way out. I huffed a laugh, shook my head, looked up at the sky and then saw, out of the corner of my eye, a figure coming down the west staircase.
Hugh.
His steps were sure and fast, his face that so-familiar mix of focus and concern. “Sybil said you were down here,” he said when he reached me.
“I hope I didn’t worry you,” I said, with only a little bit of sarcasm.
He looked quite serious when he said, “I’m constantly worried by you.”
“I’m a bigger mess than you planned for, is that it? That’s why you had to lie to me?”
“What did you want me to do?” His voice was softer now, almost gentle. I couldn’t let him see how much I liked it. How I craved more from him. “This is what I do. What I’ve always done.”
“You’ve always lied to me?”
“I’ve always protected you.” A shadow crossed his face. “Or tried to.”
I finally understood that. Hadn’t that been what I’d spent my life doing? Protecting my family?
But seeing it in Hugh made it different. “It wasn’t your job to protect me from all my bad decisions, and certainly not from Stavros. He was my husband, I loved him, and I will own that choice for the rest of my days.” My lungs hurt as I said those words, something I don’t think I had said before. After Stavros died, I had only regrets—about my notoriety, my family, my shame.
Tears flooded my eyes as I remembered good things, too. Happy, sweet, lovely memories of laughter, kisses and, yes, independence. It was all mine. It would always be mine.
Hugh reached out, as if he wanted to erase the tears from my cheek, and instead I grabbed his hand, reveling in his warm skin, his long fingers that instantly wove through mine.
God help me, I was probably making a bad decision again, but I didn’t want to let him go. Not yet.
“Let’s make a deal.” My voice sounded scratchy and low. “No more lies. No promises we can’t keep. And when this is over, it’s over.”
Hugh pulled me in for a hot, fierce kiss, and I guessed that answer was as good as any.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I didn’t want to go. I desperately wanted to go. This dinner was my worst nightmare. It was my biggest opportunity.
Okay. I had some mixed feelings about heading to the palace for a private dinner with the Queen and my siblings. Who could blame me?
It had been Thea’s idea, obviously. She had told me, in no uncertain terms, on the drive back from the Château de Dréuvar, that the dinner was happening and I was going.
Of course, I wanted to throw it all back in her face. Her and Nick showing up at Dréuvar had ruined all my plans. Christian hadn’t responded to further calls or emails, which meant he had been nearby or had someone reporting on things for him, telling him that the cavalry had ridden to my “rescue.” Yes, I was still angry. If Christian wasn’t caught, then all the upheaval in my life had been for nothing.
Thea had also asked if I could muster up a modicum of surprise when Gran made the big announcement at the dinner about Thea’s succession to the throne.
Little did she know how good I was at keeping secrets.
I still hadn’t figured out what I was going to do…about revealing my Cordelia Lancaster and Clémence Diederich identities, and I knew that clock was ticking. Sybil was right, it would be better coming from me and Christian could blow the whistle at any time, but I still wanted a few more days of normalcy. Maybe I could see Sophie and Henry and Felice one more time before they learned of my betrayals.
“I won’t lie to Sophie and Henry about the succession,” I told her, filled with guilt about all the other lies I was sort-of telling. “And Henry has leave to come?” Our brother flew planes for NATO, wearing the uniform of our military with valor and distinction. I’d always been proud—not only of his service, but that he’d found something that he loved to do, and so effortlessly, too.
Thea nodded. “He always has leave when Big Gran says he does.”
That put a sour taste back in my mouth. Here we were, all of us, having to jump whenever duty called. The rebellious side of me wanted to ask Thea if she would be just as demanding when she was crowned. If she would require our presence at ribbons and trophies and unveilings and other necessary events of civilization.
Why do you care? You’re not even officially a part of this family anymore, came the petty voice from inside my head. And you definitely won’t be once the truth comes out.
So I kept my mouth shut and ignored all the complicated feelings that came with being on the fringes of the Laurent family.
But I had one more person I needed to know about.
“…Will Hugh be there?” I asked.
“He still works for the palace,” Thea reminded me. “And he’s a vital part of my staff, I need him to train his replacement and, honestly, Caroline, that is a little bit more important than whatever it is you two are doing.”
“His replacement?”
“He’s retiring from national service in April.” Thea responded carefully, but the subtext was blaring: He didn’t tell you???
“Oh,” was all I said.
“He’s got fifteen years and, like most law enforcement professionals, he’d like to retire before he’s completely broken by the job. Plus, I know he has his businesses to focus on, but I think it’s not unfair of me to say that I wish he’d stay longer.” Thea made a regretful face. “I don’t think we’re too awful to work for.”
“So he’s just going to become a businessman?” I asked, again striving for nonchalance, but I was either terrible at it or, more likely, my sister saw right through me.
“You two haven’t talked about this? About the future?”
“Why would we?”
“I guess it’s not serious, then?”
“No, of course not.” Liar.
“That’s a relief.”
“What?”
“You’ve just lost the love of your life. And Hugh is a good, solid man. I just wouldn’t want him to get hurt.”
Ouch. But this time, I was be
tter at hiding my feelings. Or maybe Thea didn’t care about them. “How nice to hear he has businesses,” I said brightly. “What sort are they?”
Thea waved a hand. “All kinds, I think. He’s very involved in investing in Koras, started years ago when he first left the army. I think he started out with renovating properties, working with local shopkeepers and offering them fair rents. I keep asking him to advise the economic development council, but he refuses. Says it would be a security risk.” Thea smiled ruefully. “Although I think he just likes to stay in the background. Some men are like that, you know. They want a quiet existence with no one ever noticing how impressive they are.”
I let that all sink in, trying to ignore the churning feeling in my stomach. “Well, that is all very nice,” I said again. “Good for him.”
Thankfully, Thea didn’t press me or bring up any additional pieces of information that made me feel two inches tall for the rest of the ride. I was dropped off at the Hotel Ilysium, and Thea and the rest of the palace vehicles zoomed off toward the palace.
Leaving me to prepare for the dinner from hell all by myself.
Four gowns waited for me in my suite. There was a small card.
Thea said you didn’t have time to go shopping with me. Next time, you’re buying. Xoxo Sophie
The sweetness of the gesture unlocked a little of the reservation I had about going back to the palace. What was I nervous about, anyway? This was my family! My baby sister, my twin brother. They had my back. It would be fine.
Still, I stood and stared at the four evening gowns for longer than was necessary. Picking out what to wear had never been a traumatic experience for me. Not to brag, but I had been listed on multiple international best-dressed lists throughout the last decade. The door to the bedroom opened and Hugh came in, freshly showered and changed back into his security guard suit.
“Oh…” I breathed. Gone was the thermal T-shirt and wool sweater and jeans he’d been wearing while he was on “sabbatical” and chasing Christian down across Europe with me…
The Royal Bodyguard Page 21