by Kelly Hunter
‘But I do really mean it,’ said Moriana.
‘Good for you. Tell him often.’
And then Sam was between them, drawing Theo’s attention with a glance. ‘Your Majesty, my apology for interrupting but your uncle’s physicians are requesting a word with both you and Prince Benedict. Now.’
That couldn’t be good. ‘Where are they?’
‘In your uncle’s room, Your Majesty.’
‘Go,’ said Moriana. ‘I can hold the fort here until your return. I suspect Ms Cordova and I can amuse ourselves and doubtless find more shared interests in your absence.’
The mind boggled. Theo wanted not to think about it. Ever.
‘Yes, that’s not going to set tongues wagging at all,’ murmured Angelique Cordova, heavy on the caution. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I don’t think tomorrow is going to be a slow news day,’ Moriana said and pressed a kiss first to Theo’s cheek before turning to Benedict and doing the same. ‘Go.’
* * *
‘Scary woman,’ said Benedict when they were halfway along the west wing corridor. There were guards to the rear and more up ahead but otherwise they were alone.
‘Which one?’
‘Yours. I waver between being totally intimidated by her one minute and wanting to bask in her attention the next.’
‘Stay away from her.’ Of all the emotions seething inside him, this one was foremost.
Benedict frowned and glanced Theo’s way. ‘I’m not a threat to you where she’s concerned.’
‘I know better than to believe you.’
‘Then you’re a fool.’
Benedict subsided into silence and Theo was glad of it. They walked the rest of the wing in silence until they reached the suite of rooms that currently housed Benedict’s father. Two security guards stood sentry; one of them opened the door for them and Theo stood back to let Benedict through first—and that was a first. Benedict’s startled glance and hesitation in stepping forward confirmed it.
‘He’s not my dying father,’ Theo said and waved his cousin forward. It was a callous move rather than an act of respect and Benedict knew it.
‘You’re a monster,’ Benedict muttered.
An insecure, needy, untrusting one, yes.
Theo let Benedict ask most of the questions as they spoke first to the physicians and then entered the bedroom where Constantine of Liesendaach lay. They’d taken away all life support machinery and the man lay in bed, his eyes closed and the shallow rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he still lived. Not long now, the physicians had said. Tonight. The shadow of death was in the room.
Benedict sat beside his father and took his hand, but when the old man’s eyes slitted open they focused on Theo, not Benedict.
‘I knew you’d come,’ said Constantine, his voice no more than a rasping protest against a throat too close to seizing. ‘You want to confront me before I die.’
‘Maybe I do. Maybe it’s time.’ Theo had kept the knowledge so close that sometimes he’d felt as if it was strangling him. But it was family business and if Constantine wanted to air it, family would bear witness. ‘I know you killed my family,’ he told the dying man. ‘I’ve had proof of it for years and I don’t care for your denial and I sure as hell don’t care to hear your confession. You did it. I know it. I know why, and I only have one question left. Did Benedict know of your plans?’
The cadaverous old man wet his shrunken lips with his tongue, tried to speak and then started to laugh before any words formed. ‘That keep you awake...at night...boy?’
‘Yes.’ It was no lie, and there was no ignoring Benedict’s pale and frozen face.
‘Father, what—?’
Benedict stopped speaking when his father started coughing but it wasn’t so much coughing as it was cracked and rattling laughter. ‘My weak, pathetic...son. Think I don’t know...about your sodomy...or your plans to renounce your family? No loss. No loss.’
Benedict recoiled from that serpent’s tongue but Theo moved in; his need to know the truth was riding him hard. ‘I’m talking to you, old man. Did Benedict know of your plans?’
‘Weak...like his mother. Soft...’
‘Answer me!’
His uncle’s eyes gleamed with pure malice. ‘Don’t think I...will.’
But Theo wasn’t looking at his uncle any more; his attention was solely for his cousin and the blank, uncomprehending shock in Benedict’s eyes as he stared at Theo. Theo pushed away from his chair, toppling it as he stood.
‘Did you know? Is that why you saved me?’ This time Theo’s question was for Benedict.
‘Is that what you think? You truly believe me capable of saving you and letting the rest of your family fall? What for, Theo? To what purpose? Because I’m my father’s son? Does it sound to you as if I enjoy his approval?’ Benedict looked shattered, lost in memories maybe, or mired in his father’s cruel contempt. ‘This is what you’ve been punishing me for all these years?’
Benedict stepped back, and then again, still facing them both. As if he didn’t dare turn his back on either of them. And then he drew himself up. ‘Father, I’ve never been the son you wanted. I’ve always known it. I used to crave your approval, more than anything. I don’t any more. I have value—maybe not to you or to the King, but to some, and I am content.’ Benedict turned to Theo next. ‘I renounce you.’ Benedict’s voice shook. ‘I absolve you of all dealings with me, going forward. We are not kin. I have no King. Now, get out of my sight while my father dies, and then I will get out of yours.’
It was no small matter, renouncing one’s family. It was a testament to how badly Theo had handled things here tonight. He’d left cool intellect at the door, already emotionally engaged and disinclined to give Benedict the benefit of the doubt. He’d let the old man get to him while simultaneously trying to analyse Benedict’s reaction, and now the old man was laughing, and Benedict was broken and Theo was responsible. ‘Do you need—would you like anyone else with you? I can bring Angelique.’
‘Unfortunately, she’s not the Cordova for me.’ Benedict crossed to the sideboard and poured a full tumbler of Scotch.
‘Her brother then. I can get him here.’
‘Why? So you can display your tolerance for our kind?’
‘So you’re not alone,’ Theo said doggedly.
‘Too late.’ Benedict scowled. ‘He won’t come.’
‘Then I’ll stay.’ He held his cousin’s bitter gaze.
‘You just want to hear your family’s murderer draw his last breath.’
‘I would see that chapter of my life closed and a new one opened, yes,’ Theo admitted. ‘Benedict, I’m sorry I ever doubted you.’
‘Yeah, well.’ Benedict drained his drink in one hit and opted to pour another. ‘Your loss.’
* * *
Constantine of Liesendaach, former Prince Regent and father to Benedict, died during the main course of Moriana’s first State Dinner in Liesendaach. Both Theo and Benedict were absent when the meal was served and rumours had already started to spread as to why. Some said they were in conflict over Moriana’s favouring of Benedict earlier in the evening. Others declared Angelique Cordova the bone over which they fought. Moriana withstood the mutterings until the main course had been cleared away and then stood and held up her hand for silence.
Two hundred people quietened and stared at her with varying degrees of tolerance. Her introduction to Liesendaach society wasn’t exactly going to plan but there was nothing she could do except stand tall and bear their regard.
She was a Princess of Arun and the future Queen of Liesendaach, assuming Theo didn’t want his ring back. And she would damn well command their attention if she wanted it.
‘Many of you here tonight have offered congratulations on my engagement to your King, and I welcome it,’ she said. ‘All of you a
re no doubt wondering where my fiancé is right now. You might be thinking what could possibly lure him from my side? Is Moriana of Arun being jilted? Again.’
A titter of nervous laughter ran the length of the room.
‘Exactly,’ she said drily, and lowered her hand now that she had their attention. ‘Former Prince Regent, Constantine of Liesendaach, died ten minutes ago. Prince Benedict and the King attended him, and won’t be returning to dine with you this evening. Dessert will be served directly, after which we’ll bring the evening to an early conclusion. I look forward to meeting you all again under easier circumstances and I thank you for your understanding.’
She didn’t expect applause and she didn’t get it. Her appetite for sweets was non-existent. For the first time in her life, she walked out of a function and didn’t care if she was doing right or wrong. She caught the Cordova twin’s eye on the way to the door and gestured for her to join her. Benedict had brought her here. Moriana would not abandon her.
‘What now?’ asked the other woman once they were clear of the dining room. But Moriana’s confidence had run out.
‘We go and find them.’ Although, given the way tonight was running, they’d probably stumble straight into whatever it was that Benedict and Theo needed to sort out between themselves.
‘I need to call my brother,’ said the other woman. ‘He’ll want to know.’
‘Brothers are like that.’ Augustus too could do with an update. ‘Do you need privacy? I’m sure there are rooms available.’
‘Here is fine, Your Highness.’
She could like Angelique Cordova, given the chance. ‘See if you can get your brother here. I’ll see to it that he has security clearance.’
‘I’ll try, Your Highness, but, with all due respect, it may be better if I simply find Benedict and take him home. My brother will be waiting.’
Moriana nodded and turned to walk away.
‘Your Highness, thank you for your patronage this evening. It was more than I expected.’
It was more than Moriana had expected to give the Cordova twin, truth be told, but she didn’t regret it. ‘My mother used to tell me to face my fears rather than let them grow. And I did fear you, just a little, as a woman who might have held Theo’s heart.’
Angelique Cordova smiled ruefully. ‘I never even came close, and neither did my sister.’
‘Tell your sister I’d like to meet her too. Perhaps we could all go riding one day. Tell me, do you ride?’
‘Since infancy, Your Highness. My father breeds horses in Spain. They’re quite famous.’ Angelique Cordova paused. ‘But then, you already knew that.’
‘I did. Still. There’s a forest here I’ve yet to explore and an entire regiment of mounted guards with nothing to do but tend horses. I’m sure some of them could be persuaded to accompany us.’
‘That would definitely be a pretty ride.’
Aury was going to like this woman too.
Angelique Cordova took her leave, pulling a phone from her evening bag and retreating to the far corner of the ballroom foyer for privacy.
As for finding Theo and Benedict, Sam was heading her way and would probably know. ‘Where are they?’
‘Benedict went to his rooms and the King is in the Lower West Library. Past the Rafael, two doors down on the left. Neither of them are in fine spirits.’
That was hardly a surprise. ‘You’ll see to it that the guests take their leave?’
‘Leave it with us.’
‘Thank you, Sam. The meal was delicious and the service was prompt and unobtrusive. Let the kitchen know I’m pleased.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And have some food sent to Theo. He hasn’t eaten yet.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Shall I organise a meal for the Prince as well?’
‘No. Just take Angelique Cordova to him once she finishes her call.’
Moriana found Theo in a room that reminded her less of a library and more of her father’s den. Dark leather and wood dominated a setting scattered with low reading lamps, deep wingback chairs and a wall full of books with ancient spines. There was a bottle of whisky on the table at Theo’s side and one crystal tumbler. He watched her come in but said nothing. He didn’t smile.
‘I’m guessing it was a rough finish,’ she said, approaching cautiously. She didn’t know this Theo, the one with the burning eyes and the coiled tension. Her teasing suitor was gone and in his place stood a man with a gleam in his eye that said, Don’t push me—stay back.
She never had learned how to back away from a situation she didn’t know how to deal with. She’d only ever learned how to push on and muddle through.
Theo didn’t answer her so she filled his silence with words. ‘The dinner is winding up. I announced that your uncle had died and you wouldn’t be returning. I hope I didn’t overstep.’
‘Do you ever? You’re the perfect princess. What more could a man want?’
Something else, judging by the sneer on his face, and she should have retreated then and there and left him to his grieving. The ring on her finger had never felt heavier. She hadn’t even warned him she would be wearing it. ‘May I stay and have a drink with you?’ she asked.
‘Help yourself.’
She did and eyed him pensively while she sipped. ‘Did you and Benedict clear up your differences?’
‘No.’ Theo drained the rest of his drink.
‘Is it because Liesendaach’s royal family can’t accommodate his relationship preferences?’
‘Benedict can bed whoever he wants.’ Theo’s lips curled. ‘As long as it’s not you.’
‘Where did that come from? You know I will never encourage Benedict to see me as romantically available. I mean...how can you not know that? I’m wearing your ring. What have I ever done to make you or anyone else think I’ll not honour my promises?’
‘Nothing.’ He put his drink down and slumped forward in his chair, elbows to knees and hands clasped loosely together. He fingered the royal signet ring on his middle finger, looking for all the world like a penitent boy. ‘I trust you. I do. I was just...jealous earlier, when you put your hand on his arm.’
‘It was an act of comfort. His partner refused to attend the dinner. He was upset.’
‘He was playing you.’
‘No, Theo. He wasn’t. Benedict is at his most vicious when he’s upset. How can you not know that? It’s all he ever is around you. And as for you... You never give him the benefit of the doubt. Why is that? What did he do to you?’
Theo ducked his head and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Trust, right? I need to trust you with my secrets and my failings, even the worst of them. Even the ones you’ll think less of me for. Especially them. For years I’ve held Benedict partly responsible for something he knew nothing about. I should have trusted him. I didn’t.’
Trust wasn’t his strong suit. He knew it. Everyone knew it.
‘You could ask for your cousin’s forgiveness,’ she suggested.
Theo snorted. ‘Yeah, that’ll fix it.’
‘It might.’
‘You know nothing, Moriana! Why are we even talking about this?’
‘Because you’re upset and I want to help you!’ Her temper rose to match his. ‘It may have escaped your notice but it hasn’t escaped mine that I still don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Why do you limit yourself and not share a problem? Why do you limit me?’
‘You’re not limited!’ Here was the fiery boy she remembered from childhood. The one who fought and scrapped and roared. ‘Whatever you want to do, you do. My palace is open to you for reorganisation, my regiments mobilised at your request, education and health reports sit on your desk. Every time you want me to put my hands on you, I do. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you!’
‘Except confide in me.’
‘I do
confide in you. I just did! The details are irrelevant. My uncle is dead and I will not grieve for him. Benedict is gone, and I don’t blame him and I can’t fix it. Enough! I bend for you, I do. Come on, Moriana, please. You need to bend too.’
She looked away rather than continuing to burn beneath the fierceness of his gaze. His cousin was gone, his uncle was dead and she was making things worse.
‘I’m sorry; you’re right. I came in here to see if there was anything you needed me to do. I didn’t come here to push or to argue with you, and you never asked for my company in the first place, and I have no experience with grief other than when my mother passed and I remember when you made me sit at her funeral and gave me a glass of water and it was just what I needed and right now I want to give you just what you need and I’m not, and I’m sorry, and I’m babbling and I need to stop right now and leave you be.’ She dug her nails into her palm and tried to find her lost composure. It was definitely time for her to leave. ‘I apologise. I’ll try to do better next time.’
She set her glass down and headed for the door, her back ramrod-straight and her heart thundering. She’d screwed up. Talked too much. Made things worse, not better. Stop, Moriana. Don’t panic. Breathe.
He hadn’t made her take the damn ring off. Not yet, at any rate.
She had her hand on the brass doorknob and another breath of air in her lungs when his palm snaked out to slam against the door and keep it shut. She hadn’t heard him move, she’d been too busy berating herself, but she felt his arms come around her and saw his other hand land on the other side of the door, trapping her between his big body and smooth oak.
‘Stay.’ His breath warmed her cheek. ‘Please. I know I’m not good company, just... I don’t want to be alone.’
It wasn’t the same as I want you to stay because you’re the only one for me but she stilled her hand on the doorknob nonetheless. Stay. Concentrate on the request and leave his reasoning the hell alone.
‘Stay,’ he said again, and she closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her neck. ‘Sit with me, read with me, curse me. Just don’t leave.’